Christmas Magic: a story in five unequally portioned parts

Written for the fabulous arcticmuse from the prompt: "greensward, inveigh, alfresco, sprite & svelte" although the story kinda wandered off in another direction. This is part of the Rumbelle Secret Santa exchange 2013.

Hope you enjoy!

~esin

This is the way you left me,

I'm not pretending.

No hope, no love, no glory,

No happy ending

~MIKA

Belle Gold sunk back against the kitchen counter, positively glaring at the kitchen. The room itself was barely big enough to fit typical appliances—the whole flat gave the impression that someone had put it in a compressor at some point. The harsh white of the walls, floors, and counter tops was improved by a string of multicolored Christmas lights she hadn't been able to fit on the tree. The beginnings of dinner were sprawled out over the limited counter space, yes, but it shouldn't have been this hard to find things.

Two hours. That's all she had until her husband returned home. Two hours to finish the magic she'd been working on all day. And there was simply no chance of dinner being finished on time if she had to run to the store for white wine.

She had been sure they had some. She remembered buying it. But there wasn't a single place she could think of where it might be. She'd torn apart the kitchen looking for it. Twice. Not for the first time, she wished she had a summoning spell of some sort. Like in Harry Potter. (She was well-read enough to know not to wish for just any sort of summoning spell—wishes carried prices and not all magic was painless.)

Sighing, she picked up her phone and dialed her husband's office number. She hated ruining the surprise like this, but there was no other choice. The soup wouldn't work without white wine and there wasn't time to try to make something else.

The phone rang several times before he picked up. "Robert Gold speaking."

Belle giggled despite herself. She loved calling his office. He always sounded so serious when he answered. She could imagine him downtown in his little brick building, sitting in his office, surrounded by legal documents and filing cabinets. He would lean back in his chair as he talked to her, perhaps fixing his jacket with his free hand.

"Belle? Are you okay?" he asked, obviously trying not to sound worried. Of course he could recognize her giggle. After five years of marriage, he'd certainly heard it plenty.

"I'm fine," she said, before lowering her voice to a staged whisper. Maybe, with a little magic and imagination, the surprise wouldn't be lost. "Can you keep a secret?"

"What sort of secret?" he whispered back. Belle could hear faint laughter in the background on his end of the phone. At least someone besides her found this amusing.

"A secret one," she said. Jumping back up onto the counter, she smiled. Her annoyance with the kitchen began to slip away. It was impossible to stay annoyed when he was on the other side of the phone, his smooth voice speaking in her ear.

"What is it?"

"You have to promise." Her voice took on a bit of a sing-song quality as she swung her legs back and forth.

"Who am I keeping this secret from?"

"Yourself?" she said, trying to sound apologetic and desperately hoping he'd play along.

"Myself?" Now the laughter in the background of the call was joined by his own chuckles.

"Yes. Can you? Please?"

"Alright. I promise." He was grinning. She could hear it in his voice.

"Great, cause I need your help, but you can't let yourself know, okay?"

"Okay."

"First question: do we have any white wine?"

"I think so. Probably. Why?" he asked. Excellent. He was confused. If he hadn't figured it out already, maybe he wouldn't.

"Shhhh it's a surprise. Where would it be?"

"In the back closet. What are you using it for?"

Belle braced herself for the cold and yanked the kitchen's back door open. The small room in the back doubled as a coat room and storage space. The vents didn't work properly though, so it was never a comfortable temperature. "I'm trying to surprise you," she told Robert. "You can't tell yourself."

"I already said I wouldn't. We have a deal, darling," he said, leaving her to finish his thought: no one breaks deals with me.

"Okay, I'm making the corn soup and cranberry bread—" she stared.

"Belle—" The pain in his voice killed her. Somehow expectation didn't make it hurt less.

"Shhhhhh!" she interrupted before he could convince her to give up. "You can't let yourself hear. If you have a problem with your surprise we can discuss it after you've been surprised."

"You mean once I'm smelling it," he grumbled.

"Of course," she said, the smile returning to her voice. "Now keep quiet. You might hear us."

She could practically hear him rolling his eyes through the phone, but he didn't make a comment, only asking, "Was there anything else?"

"Yeah. Could you pick something up for us on your way home?" she asked, trying to sound sorry for troubling him. It didn't really work, but maybe he wouldn't spend the rest of the day stewing himself up into a rage at her if she was a little sorry. And she was. She didn't want to make things worse or upset him. But this needed to happen. For both of them.

"I take it this is part of the surprise as well?"

"Yes." She knelt down to look through the cupboard for the wine.

"And it's going to surprise me even though I'm picking it up?"

"Yes."

"You realize that Graham is sitting here laughing at my end of this conversation?"

"Yes, he probably is. Will you though?"

"Of course," he said, his voice softening. "What is it?"

"Ah—gotcha," she whispered under her breath, grabbing the bottle of white wine from its place in the back of the cupboard. "A marzipan cake," she told Robert. "From the Swedish bakery down on—"

"Yes, yes. I know. A marzipan cake."

"Yeah, and don't get any of the strange designs, just the regular one." The back door stuck when she tried to kick it shut behind her, so she threw her body back against it to wedge it back into place.

"Of course. Is that all? I have a client coming in ten minutes." He sounded sorry to go—the thought made her grin as she set the wine down on the counter. Holding the phone between her ear and shoulder, she moved the pot from the counter to the stove. Thank goodness she'd thought to look for the wine before starting. Once this started cooking, the timing would have to be perfect.

"That's all," she said.

"Good-bye then."

"I love you," she said shyly. There was no reason to be shy after five years, but the idea that maybe, just maybe, they were each in love with the other still made her stomach flutter.

"I love you too, sweetheart. See you soon."

She kissed the air so he'd hear it through the phone and quickly hung up before their farewells could stretch out any longer. Now, it was time to make some magic.