Christmas at Thistlecombe Cottage

Chapter 6

Walking into the village square on Christmas Day was like walking into a Christmas snow globe. Asher and Maya were greeted by joyful carolers singing a chorus of Christmas songs right at the entrance. Villagers were walking from the church in droves after having attended the Christmas service. They ran into Terry, who introduced them to his wife, Lisa. Soon after, Stanley the pub owner came walking toward them, arms open wide to welcome them into a big Christmas hug.

They popped into the different shops, buying trinkets here and there and exchanging Christmas greetings with the villagers and other guests. They wanted to visit the patisserie, but it was full, as was the tea shop, so they decided to finally head for the village museum, a small building next to the church.

Inside, the small space glittered with fairy lights, like most of Thistlecombe Village. A diorama took up most of the room. It was a miniature version of Thistlecombe Village on Christmas Day—exactly what the actual, real-life village square looked like at that moment.

Along the walls were black-and-white portraits of the town and notable townspeople.

On one wall was the Thistlecombe Legend. It was said that St. Nicholas, Santa Claus himself, had visited the town one Christmas, wanting to take a quick break before heading back to the North Pole after he had delivered all his gifts. Seeing that he was tired and weary, a villager welcomed him into his home for some hot chocolate and to meet his family. Theirs was not a rich family, nor did they have a grand home, and their Christmas celebration was but a simple one, but they warmly welcomed St. Nicholas and shared what little they had with him.

Touched by the villagers' kindness, St. Nicholas gifted the village with the most precious of all presents: an abundance of love and happily-ever-afters, so that every home in the village  would bring love and joy to those who visited. As St. Nicholas left, a trail of magical fireflies appeared, circling the cottage before flying away with him.

The cottage in the story, it turned out, was Thistlecombe Cottage. Their cottage.

From then on, Thistlecombe Village became known as the place in the Cotswolds for a romantic Christmas. And every year villagers would put up fairy lights in honor of the magical fireflies that had appeared that Christmas night with St. Nicholas. To this day, many still believed that if you saw a string of floating lights on Christmas Eve, you were close to finding your happily-ever-after.

"Thistlecombe Village: A Place for Love and Christmas Magic," Asher read over her shoulder. "Guess we picked the right place to stay."

He was so close she could feel his breath tickle her neck. The scent of his cologne surrounded her, and his warmth enveloping her kept a chill from running down her spine. Instead, she felt a familiar yet foreign feeling she hadn't felt in years: butterflies in her stomach, a distinct brand of giddiness, and a strong urge to squeal. There was not a word in English for it, but in Filipino, it was called kilig.

They spent a few more minutes looking through the tiny museum until they decided it was time for lunch. They stepped out of the museum just as the fairy lights that adorned the entrance were being turned on and found themselves under a canopy of them. Villagers watching the lights being turned on suddenly gasped and cheered.

"A very good sign!" one of the villagers exclaimed.

Maya looked at Asher, uncertain of what they had walked into. 

"You must kiss!" someone yelled from the crowd. "It's Thistlecombe tradition. A couple under the fairy lights should kiss for good luck!"

"In this village, mistletoe just doesn't have the same spark," the museum staff by the door added with a wink.

Maya said, "Oh, we're not a couple," just as Asher explained, "We're not together." But the matching blush on their cheeks delightfully betrayed their words, and the crowd knew it. They laughed and kept cheering them on. 

Maya turned to Asher, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding. But to her surprise, he didn't seem to want out of their little predicament.

Instead, he closed the distance between them. There was a fondness in his gaze as he tucked a loose strand of hair away from her face and behind her ear. His lips curled into a small smile as he leaned in, face getting so close to hers Maya could almost feel the flutter of his lashes on her cheek. And then he stopped, standing really still, still so close, but not closing the minuscule gap between them.

"Shall we...may I...do you want to?" he asked.

Standing on tiptoe with a nod and a smile, Maya closed her eyes as she felt their lips brush ever so softly, briefly. For a fleeting moment, the small crowd around them disappeared, and there was only her and him.

They pulled away, and the cheers and applause came back to surround them. Maya couldn't help but blush profusely, very much wanting to have a hole open up on the ground below her to swallow her where she stood. Yet throughout it all, there was no hiding the bright smile on her face.

"You couldn't possibly get any redder than this," Asher whispered as he playfully pinched her cheek. "Come with me, and let me save you from this misery." With another sly grin, he took her hand and swept her away from the fairy lights, the teasing, and the cheering. 

They escaped to the tearoom and spent most of the afternoon there, just talking and people-watching. Maya was amazed at how comfortable they had become and at how close they had grown over just a few days. It was a pity she was going to have to leave for London the next day.

When it was time to go home, they walked back to the cottage in comfortable silence. But Maya wanted to get something off her chest.

"Listen, Asher. I'm really sorry about the mess I made last night and for taking your bed. But you don't have to worry because by tomorrow I'll be out of your hair and you'll have the cottage all to yourself and maybe finally have the holiday you were planning—"

"Don't worry about it." Asher took her hand in his. "I wanted to see what the fuss was all about with sleeping on the couch anyway." He looked at her with a cheeky grin and winked.

Utterly disarmed by his teasing, Maya could only punch his arm playfully.

"Besides, this arrangement of ours took my mind away from . . . things. People. If anything, Maya, I should be thanking you."

Despite the flirting and the teasing, there was a sadness there. Maya was no stranger to it. Unfortunately, unlike kisses under fairy lights, heartbreak was never as fleeting.

She felt a sudden urge to rid him of that sadness. She hoped a little flirting would do the trick. She pulled him close and tucked their joined hands inside her coat pocket.

"Happy to distract you anytime." It was her turn to wink.

She started walking briskly as the cottage came into view, eager to return to the warmth of the kitchen and the fireplace, but Asher pulled her back, causing her to stop in her tracks. She turned around to look at him.

"Maya, have you got plans in London for New Year's Eve?"

She shook her head, unsure where this was going. "Not really. I haven't really thought about it yet, but I'm sure I'll find something to do or somewhere to go. Why?"

Asher broke into the widest smile Maya had ever seen of his. 

"In that case, may I invite you to stay in the cottage with me until the New Year?"

Maya had to hold on to his hand to keep from pumping her fists in the air and jumping joyfully. Instead, she managed a small, satisfied smile. "I would love to, Asher. Thank you for the invitation."

They stayed holding hands until they finally reached the cottage. They only pulled apart when they reached home and started to get ready for Christmas dinner, but even then, in the small space of the kitchen, gravity drew them close so they were almost always joined by the hip.