Nick straightened the bow on the gift and stood back to make sure it looked perfect before he went to get Holly. Glancing at his watch he let out a frustrated sigh. There wasn’t much time before he needed to get to the airport and catch his flight. He’d sacrificed spending the night with her to get her gift ready. He missed the feel of her skin against his already, but it would be worth it when he got to see the look on her face.
“No peeking and don’t open your eyes until I tell you to,” Nick said as he carefully led Holly down the stairs from her apartment. He carefully positioned her and took the blindfold off. “Ready?”
She smiled and nodded, her eyes still closed. “I’m ready.”
He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. “One. Two. Three. Open your eyes.”
Holly’s eyes flew open. She looked at the brand-new shiny red SUV with a huge gold bow on the top. He opened the back to reveal the cargo space, filled with wrapped presents.
“I know you don’t celebrate Christmas, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t. Merry Christmas, Holly.”
Instead of the excitement and joy he expected to see, he only saw anger blazing in the depths of Holly’s amber eyes.
Her gaze swiveled from the car back to him, with wide eyes.
“What in the world are you thinking? This is a fricking car, Nick.”
“Surprise,” he said, not feeling nearly as jubilant as he did just a minute ago.
“The charms, and the snowshoeing equipment, were lovely gifts. But even those were too extravagant.”
“I was just trying to show you how much our time together meant to me. Maybe the car was a little over the top, but I just wanted to do this for you to show that you don’t have to hate Christmas.”
“Is this why you think I don’t like Christmas, because I didn’t get presents?”
His brow wrinkled in confusion. He thought now that they were together she would loosen up and wouldn’t be so hesitant to enjoy the lifestyle he could provide for her. Why couldn’t she see that he just wanted to take care of her?
“I just thought… I wanted to make up for all the years you didn’t get anything.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t believe you think I’m that shallow. You said you weren’t going to be that guy. You said you understood. I don’t need someone to swoop in and shower me with gifts. You can’t make up for what I didn’t have growing up, with gifts.”
“I don’t think you’re shallow at all,” he answered desperately. “You’re one of the most down to earth and honest people I’ve ever met and that’s why I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”
He reached out to wipe away the tear that slowly fell down her cheek, but she pulled away, shaking her head.
Oh, crap.
“You don’t love me. If you did, you would know what Christmas means to me. I don’t want a new car, Nick. Do you know why I love my car?” She pointed at her little silver Jetta wagon. “Because I earned it. I earned every penny and it was the first brand-new thing I ever bought myself. You throw your money around like it means something and you don’t appreciate what really matters. I can’t…” Her voice broke.
Tears tracked down her face, but she straightened and looked him in the eye. “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t understand that love and the holidays aren’t about things.” She gently pushed him back. “Go home, Nick. Go see your family.”
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Nick stunned. He started to follow her and stopped. He knew she wasn’t going to let him in.
Looking at the car filled with presents his heart sank. He’d been so confident that he could give Holly the best Christmas ever and instead he’d lost her.
His phone vibrated.
“Hey, Holly’s on the phone and she’s pretty upset,” Hugh said in a grim voice.
“I messed up,” Nick blurted out.
“It sounds like it. I’m just calling to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“No, I’ll take care of the gifts when I get back. I have a flight to catch.”
“I can take care of that for you and don’t worry about Holly. Noelle and I will check in on her while you’re gone.”
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thanks, man. I appreciate that. I’ll call you when I get home and we can work out the details. Maybe you can find somewhere to donate the gifts. And I’ll call the dealership to have the car picked up.
There was a beat of silence. “I can’t believe you bought her a car.”
“Yeah, I…I made a mistake.”
Nick hung up and stared up at her apartment. He wanted to go to her, but he wasn’t sure what to say. A second later Poornima came out of the house and rushed toward Holly’s apartment, throwing him an angry glance as she went by.
He didn’t think about himself as being careless with his money. He was generous because he could be and he’d always given extravagant gifts to his family and friends. What was wrong with that?
Two days later he was sitting on the couch in his parents’ family room, scrolling through the unanswered texts he’d sent Holly.
“Stop moping, Nick.”
His brother flopped down on the couch next to him. Holly hadn’t answered any of his texts or phone calls since he left, and Nick was both frustrated and worried. The family had just finished their traditional family dinner and he was lounging on the couch, pretending to give a damn about the football game blaring on TV when all he could think about was Holly. He knew she was working on Christmas Eve, and he hated the idea of her coming home to an empty apartment at the end of her shift.
“I’m not moping, I’m thinking.”
Jason rolled his eyes.
Okay, so maybe he was moping. He missed Holly and he was mad at himself for pushing too hard.
“Nick, will you come help me, please?” his mother called.
He pulled himself up and trudged toward the kitchen.
His mother threw a towel at him. “I’ll wash, you dry.”
“Mom, we have a dishwasher.”
“You know the crystal can’t go in the dishwasher.”
He nodded. He knew. “It was a wonderful Christmas dinner. Thanks, Mom.”
“I’m surprised you tasted any of it, you were so busy sulking.”
“Why does everyone keep saying I’m sulking?”
“Because you are,” his dad said, walking into the kitchen.
“George, Nick and I are talking, and you will not sneak another piece of pie.”
“I wasn’t trying to sneak another—”
His mother’s raised eyebrow had his father turning right around and heading out of the room. It reminded Nick of how Holly looked at him when she was frustrated with him.
He sighed and started wiping the glass his mother handed him.
“He’s right, though. You’ve been moody ever since you got here,” she said quietly.
“I screwed up,” he confessed.
“Let me guess. You went too fast and overwhelmed her.”
He dropped his dishtowel and leaned against the sink. “How did you know?”
“Sweetheart. You are generous and loving to a fault, and you’re a fixer.” She gave him a wistful smile. “You get that from me.”
“I just wanted her to have what I had growing up. I hated knowing that she woke up every Christmas without a bunch of presents under the tree.”
His mother frowned at him. “Is that what you think matters? Oh, Nick.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Your heart was in the right place, but you got the message mixed up. If you grew up the way Holly did, what would matter: more presents or having a family?”
Holly’s last words came back to him. Go home to your family.
Family.
No gift could replace a family. That was what Holly missed every Christmas, a family of her own.
“Shit,” he muttered.
Nick threw the dishtowel down on the counter and leaned against the counter, his head bowed.
His embarrassment quickly turned into anger. How could he have been so blind? He remembered all the times she mentioned how much he’d spent on their dates. Even though they had fun, her smile was bigger and her eyes sparkled brighter when they were doing the simplest things, and it was because they were doing them together.
“You look like you might be having an epiphany,” his mom said, watching him with an amused gleam in her eye.
“I don’t think she’ll forgive me.”
“If you apologize the right way without making a big grand gesture, I think she will. I’ve always liked that girl. I’d be thrilled to welcome her as a daughter-in-law someday,” she said with a sly smile.
“Nick’s getting married?” his youngest sister Beth squealed as she walked into the kitchen.
“To who?” Amanda, the middle of his three sisters, asked.
His oldest sister, Melissa, followed the other two into the kitchen.
“I’m not getting married and it’s none of your business,” he growled.
“Girls, leave your brother alone.” His mother shooed them out of the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. How about you stop texting and calling for a few days and give her some space?”
“When I gave her the car I told her I loved her,” he said.
His mother slapped her forehead. “Oh Nick. You bought her a car?”
“And I may have filled it with presents,” he mumbled.
She threw a dishtowel at him. “Of all the… I can’t believe you thought that was a good idea. Let me guess. You’re worried because she didn’t respond when you told her you loved her.”
He ducked his head. It all seemed so obviously dumb in hindsight.
“Please. I’m begging you, please, don’t read the ‘Lovers are patient’ quote,” he said when his mother started for her desk drawer.
Anytime any of the Anderson kids had trouble with their love life, their mother pulled out a tattered and worn copy of a saying from the poet Rumi. Too late.
He sighed while she held up the paper and read aloud.
“ ‘Patience is not sitting and waiting, it is foreseeing. It is looking at the thorn and seeing the rose, looking at the night and seeing the day. Lovers are patient and know that the moon needs time to become full.’ Give her time, Nick.”
He went over and pulled his mom into a hug. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”
She pulled back and put her hands on his cheeks. “Merry Christmas, son.”
The next morning, Nick and his family opened the cards Holly had sent with him. As he watched, tears streamed down his mother’s face.
“I can’t believe she remembered that,” Melissa said looking down at the card.
“What did she write?” he asked.
“She wrote a memory. About a time she saw me with Beth and Amanda at the park and how she admired what a good big sister she thought I was.”
Nick opened his card and the words she’d written to him blurred as he blinked back his own tears. She wrote how she remembered watching him play soccer in high school and how she had silently cheered him on. About how she would pretend that every goal he scored was just for her. And then she wrote how those memories and the new ones they were making together were the most precious gift he could ever give her.
Holly had written one memory she had of each member of his family, a story from school or a memory of watching his youngest sister learning how to ride her bike.
Holly hadn’t given them things; she had given them memories.