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“Christmas may seem a little backwards here in South Pole, Alaska, but that’s the way we like it.” Noelle Richards spoke in front of a group of shivering tourists.

 

Chris Furst shook his head. Didn’t people get tired of the irony? He did. The tourists trudged forward, ducking their heads against the wind. Chris did his best to blend into the back of the crowd. He had been joining a tour weekly for the past three years. Though he couldn’t say he enjoyed the tours, it gave him an hour of uninterrupted time to study Noelle. And, given their history, it was the closest he could get.

 

“Here we have the Bottoms Up Christmas tree store. All of the locals frequent it this time of year.” Noelle stopped by a lit up window. The trees sparkled and glimmered from every angle. “As you can see, we do every part of Christmas a bit different.”

 

Chris glanced at the Christmas trees hanging from the ceiling. Christmas trees used to be like this, but it always looked awkward to him no matter how many times he studied it. He supposed it was a good way to clear up floor space.

 

“We don’t like leaving people out. When you put a tree’s top down like this, anyone can place the star at the tip, right?” Noelle’s laugh rang through the air.

 

Chris shivered. It wasn’t the cold. He was accustomed to the temperature. He’d been born and raised in South Pole, Alaska. His native blood got him through the harshest temperatures without so much as a goose bump. But Noelle’s laugh? That was a different story. It made the hair on his arms rise without fail.

 

“The upside down Christmas tree was a custom as far back as the seventh century,” Noelle continued. “It became even more popular around Europe in the twelfth century and many people took it as a symbol for Christianity. Since trees are triangular in shape, each of the three points stood for one of the parts of the Trinity…the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. While traditions have changed, and everyone places their trees right side up now, we here at South Pole like doing it backwards.”

 

Chris watched a woman nearby adjust her hat and rub her thick mittens against her nose. Her face got redder by the minute. She probably hailed from Florida. Her irritating large hat kept blocking his view. He wanted to take in every second of Noelle’s features.

 

“As we wrap up our tour, make sure you take some time to walk around the town square. You never know what you might step on.”

 

This was the part of the tour Chris hated the most. Not only because it was the end and his time to watch Noelle had come to a close. But also because she chose an unsuspecting male near the front of the pack.

 

“Oh, my.” Noelle sighed. “It seems I’ve done it again. Sir, please help me out here?” She gestured to a man in his sixties.

 

Chris relaxed. At least the man was twice her age. It would be like kissing her father or maybe even her grandfather.

 

“I’m sorry for the trouble, but I need your help.” Noelle played up her lines with dramatic flair. “You may notice things are a bit backward around here. Instead of hanging our mistletoe from doorways and overhangs, we actually put them on the ground.” Noelle lifted one foot, revealing the green plant painted on the sidewalk beneath her foot. “We get a lot of snow, as you can tell, and sometimes it’s tough to watch where you step. But it’s our custom when you find yourself atop a mistletoe…much like I am now…you cannot move until someone kisses you.”

 

Chris rose on his toes. He stood nearly six foot tall. It should not be that hard to see around a much shorter woman’s hat. While he certainly didn’t revel in watching Noelle kiss another man, glimpsing her bright smile would be enough to get him through the holiday season.

 

“Sir, are you willing to help me out here? I have another tour in the next hour and I mustn’t be late. I once stood on a mistletoe for a full three hours, waiting for someone to kiss me.”

 

“Now, I can’t believe that.” The man took a step forward. “And I won’t let it happen again.”

 

Noelle smiled. There it was. The entire block lit up brighter than the street level lights ever allowed. Chris could walk away now and continue his day. He should leave now. But no, he was a glutton for punishment. His life proved it. And so he stared as the man removed his paperboy hat and leaned over to press his lips firmly upon Noelle’s waiting smile.

 

Chris’ stomach burned. It didn’t matter that the man was way too old for her. He put his lips on hers…where they didn’t belong. Chris turned on his heel and started back down the avenue. He had no right to be jealous. He understood that. She wasn’t his and she hadn’t been for years. But she kept a piece of his heart, and he couldn’t shake her no matter how hard he tried. And a part of him didn’t want to try.