Elin Hilderbrand - Winter Street

She says to him, “You’re a good egg for coming, Scottie.” She pats him on the shoulder.

He gets it. His face settles into resignation; it’s territory they have covered before. Ava doesn’t reciprocate his feelings. It’s not that she doesn’t want to-she does! She likes him and loves him, she admires him, she thinks he is the owner of a golden heart and an incorruptible character and a solid intellect. He is tall and strong and handsome; he has nice, thick hair, and he looks good in cable-knit sweaters. When he’s using his Assistant Principal Skyler voice, he can silence an auditorium filled with kids; it’s pretty impressive.

But with Scott there isn’t any spark, any juice; that one salient, mysterious ingredient is missing.

“Have you heard from Nathaniel?” Scott asks.

Ava nods. “I broke down and called him.” She pauses, wondering if she should confess that she lied about going to Hawaii and then tried to make it a not-lie by calling Margaret, only to find out that her mother has a doctor named Drake joining her in Hawaii, and, even if she didn’t, it would be really expensive and impractical to include Ava at the last minute.

Ava decides that Scott doesn’t need to know all this. She doesn’t want him to know that she’s resorted to lying to hold on to Nathaniel. “Nathaniel is going over to what’s-her-name’s house. I guess the parents have this cocktail thingy. He said he’ll call me later. Eight or nine.”

Scott gives her a penetrating look that lasts just long enough to throw Ava into self-doubt.

“I’ll go put on the suit,” he says.

And then, Ava remembers her idea!

She has never set anyone up in her life; she knows nothing about it. There used to be a matchmaker on Nantucket named Dabney Kimball Beech. Dabney had been the closest thing Nantucket had to a local celebrity, but she succumbed to cancer in the fall. Dabney set up Ava’s friend Shelby with her husband, Zack, which practically makes Shelby famous-not to mention lucky. Dabney’s matches always stay happily married.

Ava decides to channel the spirit of Dabney Kimball Beech and try her hand at matchmaking. She finds Mitzi’s sexy Mrs. Claus dress and presents it to Isabelle.

“Would you mind wearing this tonight?” Ava asks.

Isabelle looks confused. “Ce soir?”

“You can be Mrs. Claus,” Ava says. “You’ll help Scott with the children. All you have to do is keep them in line and then take the photos.”

Isabelle seems unsure.

“Are you feeling better now?” Ava asks.

Isabelle nods decisively.

“Great!” Ava says. “Just put on the dress and some black shoes. I’ll show you what to do. It’ll be fun!”

Ava then goes to check on things in the kitchen. The salted-almond pinecone is done, as are the cheese board, the smoked salmon dip, the hot sausage dip, the sugared dates stuffed with peanut butter, the red, green, and white crudité tray, and the tea sandwiches. Isabelle has already preheated the oven, and she lined up the hors d’oeuvres on hotel pans.

Kevin set up the bar the night before, and he went out to get ice a while ago, but it’s taking him a long time. In general, Ava would say that she feels almost completely abandoned: Her mother is going to Hawaii with a doctor named Drake (he sounds like a character from a soap opera), Patrick is…? Kevin is…? Bart is… in Afghanistan somewhere? Nathaniel is on his way to Kirsten Cabot’s house. Her father is locked in his bedroom. And Mitzi is…? Ava wouldn’t have thought herself capable of missing Mitzi, but, oddly, as Ava stands in the warm kitchen, listening to the Nutcracker Suite playing on the whole-inn sound system, the person she misses is Mitzi. Ava’s relationship with Mitzi was troubled from the start; it’s safe to say that Ava tolerated Mitzi on a good day and was openly hostile on a bad day. But this is Mitzi’s party, and in years past, Mitzi has made it sparkle with her own irrepressible Christmas spirit. She wore the Mrs. Claus suit, she sang along loudest to the carols, and her enthusiasm, although at times over-the-top, was contagious.

In years past, this party was the closest Ava came to the true Christmas spirit of her youth. Nantucket Island, by anyone’s standards, is a wonderland at the holidays. Ava remembers her first Christmas here. She and her father had gone into town alone to shop for last-minute presents. It was dark at four thirty in the afternoon, and Ava had stood at the base of Main Street, marveling at the trees, with their colored lights running up either side of the street all the way to Pacific National Bank, where the giant tree with its 1609 white fairy lights twinkled. The shopwindows were decorated with evergreen boughs, candy canes, and blown-glass ornaments. Her father bought her a hot chocolate with one pillowy, homemade marshmallow that left powdered sugar on her lip-and then on his lip too, when she kissed him to say thank you. They had bought Patrick and Kevin neckties from Murray’s-which they would be expected to wear to Mass-and then, with her own allowance, Ava had bought their dog at the time, Lucy, a new collar and a bag of rawhides. As Ava and Kelley walked home, they sang carols. First, Ava’s favorite, “Angels We Have Heard on High,” and then Kelley’s favorite, “Silent Night.”

Ava wanders out to the living room now and tries to feel the emotions she felt then. The tree is a Christmas narrative unto itself because of the ornaments Mitzi has collected. Growing up, Mitzi’s mother was part of a Christmas club, where all the women made ornaments to exchange. There is a mama hedgehog made from a thistle, a baby mouse nestled in half a walnut shell, and a Santa made from a hollowed-out egg. Some of the ornaments are over forty years old; Mitzi has taken excellent care of them. When Ava was younger, she was fascinated by the stories behind the ornaments-there’s a reindeer face crafted out of the nipple of a baby bottle that Mrs. Wilson made in honor of Mrs. Glass the year Mrs. Glass gave birth to triplets. There is a stuffed felt Snoopy with paper-clip ice skates made by Mrs. Simon, who was Jewish but who wanted to be included in the Christmas Club anyway. In later years, other ornaments were added-there is a surfboard for Kevin, skis for Patrick, a tiny piano that plays- sigh…- “Jingle Bells” for Ava. There is a papier-mâché roller skate that Kelley got for Mitzi their first Christmas together.

Ava inhales the scent of fragrant evergreen; then she studies the nutcrackers-the scuba diver is her first favorite, followed by the fisherman. She admires the silver bowls of enormous pinecones that Mitzi buys every year from a fir farm in Colorado, and the glass apothecary jars filled with ribbon candy. There are birch logs stacked neatly in the fireplace. The room is more Christmassy than the North Pole. Why isn’t this working?

Well, as Mitzi herself has long said, what makes a tradition special is who you share it with.

Scott steps out of the powder room in the suit and a white wig and beard. “How do I look?” he asks.

Before Ava can comment-he needs help straightening his beard-the doorbell rings.

Ava panics. It’s six thirty. There have indeed been years when guests have appeared early-but not this early. And, please, not this year. Ava isn’t even dressed. This year, she bought a black velvet cocktail dress, thinking Nathaniel might propose and she might possibly be the center of attention.

She goes to the front door, Scott trailing behind her. “No early birds,” she says to Scott. “You’ll back me up?”

“Always,” he says.

Ava swings open the big oak door to see a portly, white-haired man in a flannel shirt and an unzipped parka.

“Ava,” he says.

It takes her a minute.