Approximately Yours (North Pole, Minnesota #3)

And…crickets.

Danny knew what this was, at least on his end. He’d built up the impossible expectation that this was going to be some major, sweeping romance, because Elda’s grandma had predicted it, because they had seemed so perfect for each other when they were kids, because their text conversations came so easily. If Danny was scared of blowing it with her in person, Elda probably was, too.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

Relief crossed Elda’s face, and Danny totally got it. Coffee. Coffee was something concrete they could talk about. It was safe. “Half skim, half two percent, half caf, no foam latte with one Splenda and one Sugar in the Raw. Extra hot.”

Danny started entering her order into the register.

“Oh wait, no,” she said.

He looked up.

Elda was frowning. “Or should I get almond milk? I’ve been thinking about changing from cow’s milk. What do you think?”

“Um.” So, this was the kind of conversation he was doomed to have in real life with the girl he’d been texting for days about anything and everything, the girl who’d said last night that he had a “charming personality.” Well, that was certainly not on display right now. Had he and Elda exhausted every topic via text, so now they were relegated to discussing milk preferences? This was not the kind of story they’d one day eagerly tell their grandchildren. “I don’t know,” Danny said. “Choosing the right milk. That’s kind of a personal preference.”

“You’re right.” Elda spun around as the bell above the door jingled. Danny could’ve sworn she’d whispered “Thank God” under her breath. He was thinking it himself.

Craig and Dinesh strolled in. Both of them looked completely drained. “Caffeine,” Craig said. “We’ve been up all night working on our showstoppers.”

“Hey, guys.” Elda was positively beaming at them. She tossed her hair over one relaxed shoulder with an impressive flourish. It was not a move she’d ever used on Danny. But she was whipping her hair for Craig and Dinesh. Danny couldn’t tell if she was flirting with them or if their geekiness had just made her super comfortable and unselfconscious.

“Hello, Esmerelda,” Craig said.

“Did you get the toilet fixed?” Dinesh asked.

“The shower, too. Oh my God, let me show you.” Elda pulled out her phone. “I have pictures. They’re disgusting.”

Danny had entered some alternative universe where Elda was way more excited to talk to Craig and Dinesh than she was to talk to Danny. And they seemed to have more in common, too. She and Dinesh were literally bonding over the hair and soap scum she’d pulled out of her grandma’s drain. They were talking about the wads of goo in Elda’s pictures with the kind of enthusiasm Danny usually reserved for basketball.

He cleared his throat. “Um, Elda. Did you decide on milk?”

She touched Dinesh’s wrist. “What do you think? Combo two percent and skim or almond milk?”

Dinesh scratched his temple. “I’d go with coconut, honestly.”

Elda turned to Danny. “Coconut.”

Danny made her beverage as his trio of customers chatted about extreme plumbing videos on the internet. Danny mentally tossed out everything he’d learned about North Pole architecture. Those things apparently weren’t going to impress Elda. He had some studying to do before his date tomorrow.



That night Holly and Elda took time out from working on their showstopper and cleaning out Grandma’s house to join the North Pole natives in some Christmas merriment. People had packed St. Nicholas Park to sing carols and drink hot cocoa. Since no snow had fallen yet this month and the temperature was near fifty degrees, a game of touch football had broken out on the grass where the skating rink usually went. Kids in light jackets and no hats climbed all over the monkey bars and swung as high as they could, touching the stars with their toes.

Holly had made a lot of headway on the gingerbread replica of the Page family home today. Throwing herself into showstopper work was a great distraction from the fact that she’d told Danny he was a pathetic dork who sought out other people’s approval. When she’d given him the Harry and the Hendersons treatment, she’d forgotten about the fact that she still had to text him as Elda. And, thanks to that, she knew exactly how much she’d hurt him by telling him she didn’t like him.

Nothing could be further from the truth. He was still the guy with a model’s physique and a nerd’s soul. Even though Holly knew that she definitely was not the one going on this date, she kept thinking about it as if she were—what she’d wear, what kind of knowledge she’d be able to drop on Danny, whether or not they’d kiss. But it was all in her head. Elda was the one going out with Danny, not her.

“Are you looking forward to your date tomorrow?” Holly asked Elda as they waited in line for free popcorn in the park. A booth had opened up near the big statue of St. Nick, and the queue was already thirty people deep. No one in North Pole could turn down free popcorn.

“Yeah,” Elda said. “But I’m nervous.”

“That’s good,” Holly said. “Nerves are good. They mean you’re excited.”

The smell of popcorn had made its way to Holly’s nostrils, and her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten much all day. She’d been too busy working on the showstopper, and she must’ve really been in the zone.

“I went into Santabucks today,” Elda said. “It was…awkward. I wonder if we’re going about this all wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, Danny and I have nothing to say to each other in person. The only reason he likes me is because of the stuff you’ve texted him. You’ve made him think I’m this person who likes architecture and historical non-fiction. I like dead things and plumbing and gross YouTube videos. I have no clue what we’re going to talk about.”

“Well.” Holly wasn’t sure what to add. Maybe Elda had a point. Holly probably should’ve played to Elda’s strengths in those text conversations, but this had been all about wooing Danny Garland. He just happened to like the stuff Holly liked. That couldn’t be helped. Not many people were interested in watching videos of people snaking shower drains. That was a pretty niche obsession. “Well,” she said again, “you have all the texts Danny and I sent to each other on your phone. Just read through those, you know, get familiar with the stuff we discussed. If you want, you and I can go home tonight, and I’ll give you a tutorial on architecture and whatever else you need to bone up on—movie references, that sort of thing.”

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