Bright Star

Christmas was perhaps the loneliest of holidays for Noelle. Halloween has kids knocking at her door, and Independence Day has the drunken building party (not that she partook as she sipped her seltzer from the balcony), but once Christmas hits, the snow falls and reminds her how cold her heart feels. 

About as nippy as the wind outside if she had to guess.

She took one last look out the opened window. It had been open to air out a cranky fire alarm at a burnt dinner. She'd gotten distracted watching one of those cheesy Christmas movies where the guy finds the perfect girl.

Why couldn't she be the perfect girl?

A star sparkled extra bright. It worked in the movies. What could be the harm?

"I wish everyone like," she hesitated, trying to find the words, "liked me." 

She shook her head at herself and slammed the window shut. This wasn't some Christmas movie where she'd find her true love because of the magic of Christmas. This was her whispering her pain to the universe. 

Shuffling to bed, she fell asleep, alone. 

The next morning she awoke to a sharp knocking at her door. 

"Dick," she greeted him, opening the door wider. "Hang on a second. I'll go grab the rent check."

He followed her in. But once she handed him the check, he tore it into pieces and tossed them to the floor.

"Oh Noelle, you needn't worry about that." He knelt down on one knee.

Good, he could clean up the mess he made. 

"Are you kicking me out?"

"Au contraire, my little darling. Marry me, move in with me." He wasn't cleaning the mess. In fact, she would say he was making a bigger one.

Was she still sleeping? Dick, her elderly, happily hitched landlord was asking her to marry him. Most communication they'd had was the passing of the rent check, and when her fridge had broken, when they both mourned the loss of her cheesecake. That man loved a good cheesecake.

That man did not love her though. Yet here he was, proposing.

"I'd rather pay January rent, Dick." 

He struggled to get off the floor. She offered a hand, and he held it too long before she coughed, grabbing her checkbook.

"I'll be round if you change your mind. Merry Christmas, beautiful."

She had promised to bring cookies for the children's pageant at church that night, and once he had left, made her way to the kitchen. Tightening an apron around her waist, she heard another knock.

Lance was at the other side of the doorway. She let him in, figuring that he needed last minute advice. He was planning on proposing to her sister that night, a diamond ring wrapped under the tree.

"Honey, I know your present is small this year." He took a box out of his jacket pocket. "But I think you're going to love it."

"Are you practicing? Is this roleplaying now?" Noelle led him back to the kitchen. She needed to get the dough prepped so it would have time to chill. 

He hurried behind her, taking things from her hands to set on the table. "Noelle, would you stop and pay attention!"

She nearly dropped her eggs at his sudden outburst.

Lance exhaled and frowned.

"I'm sorry, but I'm trying to propose and you are making it incredibly difficult." 

"Okay, go ahead."

He knelt down and poured his heart out. Except there was one problem. His heart was talking about Noelle, and not her sister Holly. It was talking about times they had spent together, like that time Holly got sick at a family barbeque and they had spent the afternoon together avoiding small talk with her grandmother. Ah yes, because nothing says proposal like tainted macaroni salad.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, will you marry me?"

"Lance, you might want to go with a different story if you're going to propose to Holly." She flipped her cookbook open, only to have it shut on her knuckles.

He slipped her hand out and took it in his. "I'm proposing to you, Noelle."

She didn't know who had orchestrated such a big prank. First her landlord, now her sister's boyfriend? Didn't they know that pranks were a different holiday? 

"That's not funny. Now if you want help proposing to Holly, you can stay, but these cookies aren't going to make themselves."

"She's not what I want under my Christmas tree this year." He tightened his grip.

"Out."

She feared all afternoon another knock on her door, relieved to find silence. Calling an Uber, she bundled her cookies up for church.

A car pulled up to the curb, cutting the engine. Taking a few boxes off her load, she laid them across the backseat. It hadn't left any room for Noelle. Lifting a box, she got stopped.

"Oh no, you can ride up front." She opened the passenger door, gesturing for her to sit down. Noelle, already running late, agreed.

"Some of the cookies are fragile, so if you could just be careful." She buckled her seatbelt, taking a look back at the boxes.

The driver ran her hand along Noelle's thigh. "Don't worry. I'm always gentle."

Why had she agreed to the front seat? Her brain was spinning. Had she slipped on some snow, knocked out in some sort of fantasy world where everyone was attracted to her? If she did, she wanted out.

If she hadn't...well, that's impossible. Nobody wanted her.

Glancing up at the ceiling, she noticed a mistletoe dangling. 

"Wait until we reach a red light, cutie." The driver winked. Noelle scooted towards the window, praying for all green lights. Which she got, thank God.

Parking the car, the driver unbuckled herself.

"Don't worry, I can get them."

"Nonsense. The backdoor sticks sometimes. I've got the magic touch." She waggled her fingers and got out of the car. Noelle couldn't help but notice the extra effort she put into stretching across the seat, showing off her body.

Collecting her boxes, she swung her purse over her shoulder.

"You want to get married while we're here?"

"Excuse me?" One of the boxes slipped, and the driver moved to catch it.

"It's a church, it's Christmas. There's obviously some magic going on here." She took another box off the top. "You still owe me a kiss."

Holy-

Wait, nope, not finishing that thought in the Lord's house.

Luckily, or not so, Priest Nathaniel approached them. 

"Noelle, dear angel, did you bring a friend to celebrate with us tonight?" He took the boxes off her hands. She refilled them with the driver's boxes.

"No, just my ride, sir. You're free to go now, thank you." She forced her mouth into a smile, rushing towards the door. "I'm sure everyone is anxiously awaiting the cookies, my apologies. It's been a peculiar day, to say the least."

Nathaniel grinned at her. "Maybe I can make it a bit better for you. After service, let's talk."

With the way her day was going, those were not the words she wanted to hear. 

Nor were the words, "I love you, please marry me."

"You're a priest! Your love is with God." 

"I've been listening to your confessionals for years. I know you inside and out, and know that I love you." A mother walked by with her child, dressed as a sheep. He raised his voice. "Great work out there, Bobby!"

"Thanks. Merry Cwis-mus!" 

Noelle waved at the small child, waiting for him to be out of earshot.

"You love me?"

"More than the big man in the sky himself."

She needed to get out of there. She would go home and lock herself in her apartment and nobody would come and propose anymore. This joke had gone too far.

This joke had one final act.

Virgil was sitting outside her door. He was supposed to be at his parent's house, and not on her doormat, smiling at her approaching, shivering figure. She had walked, or ran, really, home.

"My flight got cancelled." He jumped up, enveloping her in a hug. He was like a human radiator, and forgetting the chaos for a moment, she let him. 

"Come in. I saved a few cookies for when you came back. They're in the freezer, since I thought you'd be gone for a while, but we can defrost them."

He let her go. "I'd like that."

She'd like that too.

Setting a plate of cookies on the table, she laughed aloud. 

"You know, I've had the most bizarre day. I've had four different people propose to me."

Virgil looked surprised.

"Did you say yes to any of them?"

"Goodness no."

"Would you say yes to me?" 

There went that cocoa mug. She took another from the cupboard, thankful that it had been empty. "Don't tell me you're in on this too."

He knelt down to pick up the pieces.

No, not the single knee. 

"On what?"

"This big elaborate prank that everyone has played on me for Christmas." She knelt down to help him. "I don't think I can take another proposal."

There was a long pause as they finished cleaning up the mess.

The longer he went without speaking, the more worried she became. Virgil was her neighbor, probably her closest friend. It'd make sense if he had been roped into this all. Difference was, she kind of had a crush on him, and it would kill her inside to hear him say words she knew would never be true.

"Then I'm not proposing to you. I'm not saying that you make my heart flutter, and I'm not saying that I time coming up the stairs so that I pass you coming home so I can ask you about your day. I'm not saying that I want you around forever, nor that I really, really want to kiss that look off your face right now. Because this is not a proposal."

"Okay."

"It's merely a suggestion."

The kettle blew its whistle.

Dipping a cookie into the cocoa, he glanced outside the window. Her gaze followed to see that the stars had come out. There, smack dab in the middle was that bright star.

"I should have never made that wish." It had to be the source of all the chaos. This entire time, she had been blaming some unknown master prankster. What if Christmas really was magic?

"What wish?"

She took a sip of her drink. "I wished everyone would like, like me. I think that's what I said. My brain is a bit fuzzy to be honest."

Virgil set his cookie down.

"You wanted everyone to like-like you? As in love?"

"I- oh. Oh no. You don't think the star misunderstood me, do you?" Magic was always finnicky like that. 

He shrugged.

"I think stars aren't capable of thought, but what do I know. It's Christmas. Anything can happen." He walked over to the window. "Why not just ask it for a do-over?"

Because she really wanted to say yes to his not proposal. Christmas was finally starting to feel a little less cold.

It wouldn't be right if it wasn't true love though.

"I wish people would tell me how they really feel."

Her phone pinged. Lance had texted her a picture of the ring on Holly's hand with exclamation points galore. 

That was a start.

The next morning she had gone to church, curious to see how Nathaniel would be acting. He too seemed back to normal. He was proclaiming his love for baby Jesus as his one true love, beaming. She looked over to see Dick with his wife tucked under his arm. 

Everything was back to normal.

She got home to find Virgil back on her doormat.

"Hi."

"Hey."

Did he remember anything about the night before? Had the star wiped all their memories? She didn't even know which version she'd prefer to be honest, and let him in. There was only one way to find out.

"Last night-" she started, struggling to find the words. 

"Last night I didn't propose to you. Which I think was the right decision to make." He took a seat on her couch.

She hung her coat in the closet, slipping out of her shoes. Stilettos hurt, but the truth hurt too.

Moving a pillow, she took the cushion next to him. That answered that question.

"I agree."

"Clearly we need to go on a date first." He blushed. "I mean, if that's alright with you. I meant what I said last night. I know this may sound crazy but if you would just-"

She kissed him.

"Are you telling me I brought this mistletoe for nothing?" He held it above their heads. She kissed him again.

Thank you, bright star.