The Secret Santa Project

by Carol Ross

  Such desperate actions were becoming more common as travel increased across the globe. All it took were a few rude or destructive individuals to ruin it for everyone. The number of locations where you were no longer permitted to take photos or video was rapidly growing, too. Sites where it had never been allowed were cracking down. Even as a professional traveler who took great pains to advocate for “travel respect” and responsibility, Hazel understood and felt torn about her role in it all.

  “What else did Franco tell you about me?”

  “Not much,” he said. “I haven’t spoken to my brother in days. With the time difference and our busy schedules, we keep missing each other. He emailed, asking me to show you around, and here we are.”

  Not overly thrilled about it either, she couldn’t help but note. Suppressing a sigh, she conjured a smile. “I am a travel writer and blogger. But today, I am just Hazel, a friend of Franco’s and a fellow cave enthusiast, taking him up on an invitation to visit his family’s caves. No agenda. No assignment. A free day just for me. Believe it or not, I like to keep certain experiences to myself.” Lately, she’d been feeling that inclination more and more. Maybe she needed a break.

  A few months ago, an unfair and devastating social media attack had been unleashed on her brother Seth’s girlfriend, Victoria. They’d been in Florida competing for the same professional spokesperson job when Victoria had become the victim of a vicious smear campaign. The incident had nearly derailed Victoria’s career and her relationship with Seth.

  Hazel had played a small part in rectifying the injustice, but the episode had left her disheartened and disappointed and launched an unprecedented bout of soul-searching. Or it had contributed, anyway. The questioning, the disquiet, ran deeper than that.

  So much deeper.

  All the way down to the black hole of her life called Cricket Blackburn, with whom she’d had a different, more personal altercation with while in Florida. Even now, the memory made her face flush hotly with mortification. They’d been arguing, and then they weren’t. Apologies were exchanged and then a hug coalesced into a moment, and she was sure that he returned her attraction. But she was wrong, and the memory of what he’d said next and the vision of him walking away was almost physically painful.

  “So, you just want to look at our caves?”

  The question pulled her back into the moment. Where she belonged. Where she wanted to be. After all, that was what her life was all about—living in the moment. For the last ten years, she’d devoted herself to doing just that. Because when she lived in the moment, she did not waste time daydreaming about an impossible future or agonizing about the past. It was just that, lately, she’d been finding the execution of this philosophy more and more problematic. Was she having some sort of early-onset midlife crisis? An early-life crisis—was that a thing?

  “No,” she answered. “I want to experience your caves, to hear them, to smell them and, yes, to see them. You are welcome to hold on to my phone if that makes you more comfortable.” Digging into her daypack, she then removed her cell only to see two missed calls from... No, it couldn’t be. She squinted at the screen. Cricket. Before she could stop it, her insides erupted in this fluttery happy dance. The same sensation used to fill her with hope and anticipation and leave her reeling with dreamy-eyed fantasies. Now it made her feel foolish and immature. And maybe a little angry.

  Ugh. She needed to get over this. What she needed was to get over him, once and for all. If she could only figure out how to do that.

  There was a text, too, which gave her pause. Until she read, Call me. I need to talk to you.

  That’s it? “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, irritation pulsing through her. She knew he hated texting, but he could do better than that. How about a please or maybe even an I’m sorry? “Too little, too late,” she concluded.

  He’d made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want to discuss what had happened or make any effort to resolve anything, so why should she talk to him now? She looked back down at the phone and quickly counted. Eight words. That was what he could spare for her?

  Looking up, she noted Kai’s curious expression. His features had softened, dimples twitching as if toying with a smile.

  “You okay?” he asked. “Did you get some bad news?”

  “Yeah, no, I’m fine.”

  “If you need to make a call or send a text, I understand. The reception here is not great, but if you head back toward the parking area, you’ll probably have better luck.”

  “Nope. Do not need to do that.”

  Pausing for a moment, he shuffled his weight and then heaved out a sigh. “Sorry if I sounded like kind of a jerk before. I’m just frustrated. Ever since the vandalism and the lawsuit.”

  “Don’t sweat it.” Hazel added a sincere smile. “I understand. Franco told me what happened.”

  “Thanks,” he said simply, sincerely. They walked to the gate, where the trail led toward the stunning red rock canyon beyond. He lifted a little door to reveal a keypad and deftly tapped a sequence of buttons. The lock opened with a crisp click. He pushed the gate forward and waved her through.

  On the other side, she waited while he secured the gate behind them. Something occurred to her then. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Who is Buster?”

  He turned to face her, and she felt validated as those dimples officially made their first appearance. They were every bit as cute as she’d anticipated.

  “You’ll see.”

  “You promise?”

  “You’re not going to take photos, are you?” he asked, but she could tell he was teasing.

  “No,” she joked. “Just some video.”

  He laughed. “In his email, Franco said you were cool and funny.”

  “Well, Franco would know—he is also cool and funny.”

  That induced another grin, and Hazel decided Kai might not be as unpleasant as she’d first feared.

  “He also said you were here in Utah working. Can I ask what brought you here, if not our caves?”

  “I...” She started to explain, to tell him about the resort story, but that was when she realized she still held her phone in her hand. Like a lightning bolt, another idea occurred to her, a freelance article she could also write. She loved it when that happened.

  “You know what? I am going to send one quick text...” She typed out a message for Iris and Seth, letting her triplet siblings know she’d be out of touch for a couple of days. She could easily work on both stories at the same time.

  She then made a show of powering the phone off and shoving it to the bottom of her pack. The very bottom. Ha. Take that, Cricket Blackburn! Now I won’t go all dreamy-eyed when I see that your stupid face has called. Maybe you’ll even get a taste of how I feel when you won’t talk to me.

  “My current assignment is about resorts.” Then she said the other story concept out loud, reinforcing the idea and liking it even more: “I’m also working on an article about how to enjoy traveling without being connected.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  CRICKET’S PHONE BEGAN vibrating while he was still in the parking lot. Hazel, he thought, scrambling to remove it from his pocket. Despite the current tension between them, he found himself looking forward to hearing her voice. Suddenly, he needed to know that she was okay. That they were okay.

  Not Hazel. Disappointed, he frowned at the unknown number.

  “Hello?” he answered anyway, because unfamiliar callers were a regular part of his life. His cell number was listed as a contact for JB Heli-Ski.

  “Mr. Blackburn?”

  “Yes, this is Cricket. How can I help you?”

  “I’m hoping I can help you. This is Ernie Harris from Otter Creek Correctional Facility.”

  “Oh, yes, hello. Thank you for returning my call.”

 
“No problem. Your message said that you are having difficulty accessing an inmate’s commissary account?”

  “That’s correct. My brother, Lee Thomas Blackburn.” Cricket rattled off his ID number.

  “Okay, got it. Not sure what happened, but I’ll look into it and call you back.”

  “Great. I appreciate that. Thank you so much, Ernie. With that account frozen, you’ve probably got yourself an unhappy inmate, and for that, I apologize.”

  “Yeah, well,” Ernie quipped, “I can guarantee he ain’t the only one of those around here.”

  Cricket chuckled. “I imagine. I’ll be down to see him soon. Thanks, Ernie.”

  “No problem. You have a good day.”

  “You, too.” He ended the call.

  “How is Lee?” Tag asked him.

  “Same.” Cricket lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Something goofy with his account. Haven’t been able to put any money in there.”

  Tag nodded, and when Cricket didn’t elaborate, he let it go. One of the things he appreciated about his friend was how he didn’t pry. Not without a good reason anyway, and rarely about Cricket’s family, which consisted only of his wayward dad and brother.

  Frank, his father, was two years into a three-to-five-year sentence in Michigan for arson and insurance fraud. Lee was currently in the third month of a six-to-twelve-month stint for second-degree burglary. Frank was a career criminal, hard-core. Lee’s lawbreaking had never escalated to anywhere near the level of their father’s, and despite his occasional foray into lawlessness, his brother was a likable and charming guy.

  Cricket had spent a lot of years believing he could help Lee. Show him the light, steer him straight, whatever. He’d given up on that notion a long time ago. The only thing he could do was love his brother and hope that, eventually, his inherently good heart would win the internal battle that plagued him.

  Tag said, “I know Operation Happy Mom means we need to get these gifts back in a timely manner, and you wouldn’t want to disappoint her, but let’s stop in Glacier City and grab a burger at Grizzly Quake? I skipped breakfast.”

  Cricket wholeheartedly agreed. With their busy schedules, and the recent birth of Tag’s son, Abe, it had been a while since the friends had enjoyed an afternoon together. Tag had been the one to suggest they both make this first donation run as a creative way of catching up.

  The rest of Tag’s statement sank in. “Operation Happy Mom?” he repeated with a laugh.

  Even though he understood Tag’s gibe, Cricket and Margaret had spent a lot of time together lately. He’d been instrumental in helping her launch Operation Happy Christmas. The massive charity undertaking had been in the works for months and had taken countless hours of their time.

  With Margaret’s connections as a school principal and as an active member of the local Presbyterian church, she and her band of enthusiastic cohorts had identified people across southern Alaska in need of “holiday attention.” Her list was long and varied and included kids, families, adults, low-income seniors and veterans. Age didn’t matter. The only requirement was need. Everyone, Margaret believed, deserved a happy Christmas.

  Cricket had headed up logistics while Margaret rallied the communities and secured donations. A highly capable and committed team of volunteers was in place. Cricket had established a transport chain with Glacier City as the nearest collection point. He’d recruited Tag to help.

  Once inside the van, they buckled up. The vehicle was new to both of them, having been donated to the charity by a used-car dealership. He wished his brother, Lee, a skilled mechanic, wasn’t in jail so he could check out its condition for them.

  “I cannot wait to tell her you said that!” Cricket said gleefully.

  “Yeah, go ahead, rat me out,” Tag joked. “Like you need another reason to be her favorite.”

  * * *

  “OH, CRIKEY!” HAZEL cried and tapped on her headlamp.

  “You okay?” Kai asked, shuffling around in the cramped space so the beam from his light illuminated her. They were in a narrow tunnel on their way to a large vertical cavern where they’d descend into yet another chamber.

  “Sorry,” she said. “My headlamp is on the fritz. I’ve been meaning to buy a new one. I’ve got an old spare at the bottom of my pack, but...” Reaching around to a side pocket, she removed a flashlight. “This should do for now, though, right?”

  “Yep. Not much farther.” Kai turned back around and headed forward. “We’ll regroup before we rappel down to the main cavern.” Then he picked up right where they’d left the conversation before Hazel’s equipment malfunction. “So, you’re telling me that you are getting paid to stay at a bunch of different resorts and try all these cool activities, and then write about your favorite ones?”

  Hazel had been explaining about the assignment that had officially brought her to Utah. “Yep, ‘10 Must-Try Resort Experiences,’” she answered. “The title pretty much says it all.”

  “What sorts of things have you done so far in the name of research?”

  “Let’s see... Highlights in the last week would have to be goat yoga, the hot-air-balloon ride with a champagne brunch, stargazing and a sculpting lesson that was a ton of fun. Tomorrow kicks off with a guided meditation session. Then I have a paddleboard excursion, kitten therapy in the afternoon and—”

  “Wait, did you say kitten therapy?”

  “I sure did.”

  “What is—”

  “No clue. But if it involves kittens, I’m in. Ask me tomorrow. But it will have to be after my archery session because, as you can see, I am tightly booked until then. Tomorrow night at Darcie Bluff Resort is the debut of their holiday tasting menu. Looking extra forward to that.”

  “Are you kidding me? You are doing the holiday tasting at Darcie Bluff? That is a dream of mine. There’s like a yearlong waiting list. How did you get a reservation?”

  “My editor, Rory, the owner of Travel Inside & Out, who I am writing the resort piece for, booked this vacation for himself and his wife a year ago. Then his wife got pregnant and is now due any day. Brilliant man that he is, he turned it into a story, and he asked me if I wanted to write it.”

  “I want to be a travel writer,” Kai said in a comical tone of exaggerated envy.

  Hazel laughed and replied, “It is a pretty awesome gig.”

  She meant those words. Totally and completely. Almost completely. Because it was also a ton of hard work. She didn’t mention that part, though, or the incredible number of hours she’d logged to reach this point. People rarely believed it. They assumed a career that involved traveling the world had to be the easiest, best job in the world. Just hop on a plane and jet about the globe. But professional travel was so much more than that; it was a way of life.

  And establishing herself had taken years. There was the expense of getting started, figuring out how to make money, the part-time jobs to supplement her income until she began to earn more than her travel expenses—with never a guarantee that she’d get there. Even with her English degree, there’d been a learning curve to writing short, catchy articles and blog posts with punchy, searchable titles. Not to mention mastering all the accompanying technology and business strategies associated with a successful blog. Effectively navigating social media was a whole other ball game.

  Living out of a suitcase could also be a challenge, as was not having a “home” of her own. She couldn’t justify the expense. So, at twenty-nine, she still had a room at her parents’ house.

  But the personal sacrifices were the most difficult. Romantic relationships were more trouble than they were worth. Friendships took special care. Family commitments were tricky. In ten years, she’d been home for Christmas dinner exactly one time. She couldn’t begin to count the number of holidays, birthdays, weddings, parties and special occasions she’d missed.

  While family and friends were
celebrating her parents’ thirtieth anniversary, she’d been “returning” to San Juan Capistrano along with the swallows. She’d been running from bulls in Pamplona when her youngest niece was born. Loneliness could hit hard at unexpected moments.

  Nor did she mention the dangers. Like when she’d barely survived a tsunami in Indonesia only to discover her hotel, along with all of her belongings save the clothes on her back, had been swept away. And then there was South America.

  Not even her family knew about the time she’d nearly been kidnapped for ransom in Colombia. Unless Cricket had told someone—he’d sworn he wouldn’t—and she was reasonably certain she would have heard about it by now if he’d broken that promise. No way her brother Tag would stay quiet about that if he knew. If there was one thing Cricket could be counted on for, it was his restraint. Too much restraint, as far as she was concerned.

  So lost was she in her thoughts that the shift in the air almost startled her. Untold hours of caving experience told her the space would soon be opening before them.

  “Here we are,” Kai said a moment later. “I always like to stop here and take a minute just to appreciate the total lack of light.”

  Hazel clicked off her flashlight and felt herself smiling in the dark. Inky blackness crowded around her, causing her pulse to accelerate. In the course of normal everyday life, such complete and utter darkness was rare. Caves were one of the few places you could experience it. It was exhilarating and slightly spooky, and she loved the sensation. Like other people enjoyed scuba diving or rock climbing, spelunking was her thing.

  Surrendering to the dark, she focused on her remaining senses. The chilly, dank press of the air against her skin was such a contrast to the arid world outside. Breathing deeply, she thought she could smell water. Or maybe that was due to the distinctive drip, drip, drip echoing loudly around them. There was also a deep whooshing sound mixed with a higher-pitched fizz.