As a finale, she slipped into a turquoise summer dress. She shifted to see the results of her efforts in the full-length mirror. A small portion of hair held secure with a clip, twisted and gathered on the crown of her head, while two loose ringlets fell past her ears nestling in close to her temples. The rest of the long curly locks spilled down her back, stopping two inches short of her waist. Makeup included sparse touches on her eyes and lips. She preferred the natural look. From the closet, she chose a pair of sandals, classy but with a comfortable heal, and a designer handbag to match. The doctor was stepping out today. No scrubs for this girl.
Pam heard the doorbell ring and sniffed the coffee perking at the same time. Perfect timing. When she opened the door, Denise scanned her friend from head to toe “Stunning! Out to impress?”
“You never know what can happen in a day. Isn’t that what you always say?”
“I do. Mainly because I don’t live in a box like you. Now push aside. I am dying for a cup of coffee and a peek at that parcel.” Denise sidled in past Pam, picking up her bubbling enthusiasm where she’d left off last night. The woman saw the world through stained-glass windows. Her outfit that screamed with vibrant, colorful patterns matched her outgoing personality.
Denise marched into the kitchen then jerked to a stop. “You never even opened it! Do you not have one ounce of curiosity inside that tiny shell of a body?”
“I suppose I’m lacking in the curiosity department,” said Pam. “And jealousy will get you nowhere.”
“Huh! Look at me.” Denise posed in a suggestive stance then stuck out her belly for a grand finish. “I am a bouncy specimen resulting from too much nibbling at my café, whereas you are a gorgeous, shapely carrot stick that everyone envies.”
“I’ll do my best to fill up on sweet treats all day long, just to make you happy,” Pam said. “And we’ll start right now. Bought some irresistible goodies yesterday at the bakeshop.” She waved the pastry box in the air. “Indulge with me, woman.”
“Have you ever known me to say no? I shouldn’t let you tempt me, but I want to taste everything before I depart this world. That world-sized goal puts an end to my internal conflict every time and the elusive dream of a twenty-six-inch waist.”
Pam poured the coffee into two huge Santa mugs and added a holiday creamer for taste. She popped open the baker’s box and placed one of everything on a platter. Two small plates for each of them and napkins completed the tempter’s tray. She carried it to the center island and joined her friend. They sat on barstools and Pam watched Denise’s hand stroke the parcel, her itchy fingers threatening to pull the twine free and rip the paper off.
“Go ahead,” Pam said.
Denise glanced her way to see if she were serious then the flushed kid face took over.
“Note the return address: North Pole, Arctic Circle. The sender is C. Claus.” Denise laughed. “Are you kidding me? A package shipped from the homeland of Santa’s workshop. Too good to be true.”
“It’s my experience that when something is that good, it’s usually counterfeit.” Pam received a frown from that negative comment. “Well, my name is almost right. Pamela C. Legend. I never knew I had a middle name. Maybe they shipped to the wrong person.”
“The Claus family do not make mistakes. He does have the list, you know?” Denise said as she took a sip of coffee.
“Ah, yes, the list,” Pam said. Sarcasm tainted her words.
“And you are definitely on the good-girl list. You couldn’t be naughty if the opportunity arrived wearing skin-tight, black leather pants and…”
Pam slapped her friend on the arm. “Enough! What’s wrong with you? Open the thing and stop spouting your nonsense.”
Denise carefully ripped the labels free first and placed them safely to the side. “Evidence,” she explained. The brown wrap tore free, and a box loomed before them. “Another box?” Impatience wore her thin. She pulled at the tape and the lid opened. She stuck her head over the top and groaned. “No way! I give up. Someone meant for you to open this, Miss Patience. I need a sugar fix.” She selected one off the plate. When Pam didn’t move fast enough, she said, “Well, hurry. I have a store to open.”
Pam pulled the parcel in front of her and withdrew a Christmas gift, beautifully wrapped in shiny red paper, tied in thick ribbon, and topped with a huge white bow. She grinned. “I should put it under the tree for tomorrow morning. I haven’t received a gift from Santa – ever!”
“Stay focused! It is July, not Christmas Eve. Open it!”
Pam placed the bow on the pile with the labels and pulled the ribbon. The decorative paper fell open, and she gasped. Fastened atop a finely cut stone, set an ornamental key. Alongside, perched four beautiful white daisies accented by a bright nucleus that matched the brilliant gold of the metal opener. The key was long and elaborate – apparently one that opened an oversized lock. The object resembled something she’d seen in books recounting tales from ages past. She plucked it from its holder on the base and examined it, feeling an aura of those times and a strange sense of belonging. That was absurd, for she was not a history buff.
“C. Claus knows daisies are your favorite flower. How personal is that?” Denise asked.
Pam remained tongue-tied, but Denise was not! She chanted her tireless tease.
“Aha! It’s the key to your heart! How deliciously romantic.”
“My heart is not that big,” said Pam.
“You are so wrong! You have the biggest heart in all of Cedar Springs. Ask anyone.”
Pam held up the key. “I’m a doctor, Denise. I’ve never seen a heart big enough for this. But the ornament is beautiful and will look lovely on my Christmas tree come December.”
“An ornament? No, it has to mean more than a tree decoration. You can buy trimmings at my store anytime.”
“Yes, you can! And maybe you recognize this one? Someone apparently purchased it and sent it to me as a prank,” Pam said.
“Or maybe you have an admirer?”
“Or a stalker.”
Denise grumbled. “Like you to think of the worst scenario.”
“Relax. My life is still open for your meddling purposes, and my heart remains available for Prince charming when he rides into town.”
“But, I now have a partner,” Denise picked up the tag with the postal address on it and examined it again. “How exciting is that?” Pam groaned, then jolted upon hearing her next remark. “What do you think of John?”
“Seriously? John Doe, my patient?” Pam snickered. “He’s not for me. That man has a long, challenging road ahead of him.”
“Probably, but he is handsome and can be quite witty when he’s not wracking his brain for a memory.”
“I must admit he has a certain charm to him. And last night he showed how he loves the unlovable. You’ll be pleased to know that’s high on my wish list for a man.”
“I’m more excited to hear you even have a wish list. Maybe this weekend, since Christmas is our theme, your C. Clause will drop by to see if you received your gift.” Pam cast a grow-up glare in her direction. Denise jumped to the floor. “A girl knows when she’s outstayed her welcome. Drop in the store later and say hi.”
Pam remained seated while her friend let herself out. She stared at the ornament and shrugged her shoulders. As she started to place it inside the box, her fingers touched a tag. “Not done with me yet, C. Claus?” she said aloud. Pam brought it into the light and read, “The key to Christmas legend, past and present.”
Legend – as in the North Pole, the home of Christmas? But this was a personal gift. Could it mean her? Legend was her last name. She pondered the message – keys, past, present, and future. Pam hated riddles. Her father, the stuffy Alexander Legend, had stripped her of those inclinations long ago with his practical, no-nonsense worldview. She sighed. It was a worthless clue! Old stories and modern myths were a dime a dozen. She packed it away. Picking up the snack dishes, she walked to the counter.
Pam trans
ferred the uneaten pastries into a sealed container and dumped the rest of the coffee into the sink. From the open window, she could hear the festive music winding up. Crowds would soon line the streets. She hurried to head downtown and get in a quiet stroll before all the chaos began.
It was warm again, but not humid. A gentle breeze blew from the north, and Pam savored it as she window-shopped. Pam loved to discover the details hidden in displays. The advertising element, meant to draw you in, was a ploy to open your wallet. This weekend she would not mind spoiling herself. She particularly relished the festive decorations, feeling drawn to them by a strange compulsion she could never satisfy. Since moving to Cedar Springs, Christmas brought new freedom for Pam. Her father had died the year she finished her formal education, and with him, she’d buried all his strict misgivings concerning the holidays. He’d been a Grinch and had caused the little girl in her much grief. No one sat on the sidelines now to hold her back. And with two celebrations a year, she’d soon make up for the many years of abstinence.
“Hello. What is the good doctor thinking about this fine morning? You seem miles away.”
John moved in beside her, his bare arm brushing hers. Pam glanced at him – initially annoyed at being disturbed from her reverie – but then gratefully swept into his fun-loving mood. He’d expanded on his wardrobe and wore a pair of khaki shorts, and a shirt that had Santa, sleighs, and reindeer, sliding all over it from multiple angles. His slightly wind-blown hair staggered her good sense while his smile dazzled what little remained of her composure.
“And you look pretty amazing yourself,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
Pam felt the heat rising into her cheeks. “Oh, so you can read other people’s minds but not your own?”
“Appears to be my fate, but at this moment it’s serving me well.” He laughed playfully at her awkwardness. “Don’t worry. Nothing mystical here – just noticed the twice-over scan you gave me. I guess I clean up all right, Doc.”
“You are no longer my patient. Formalities are unnecessary on the streets of Cedar Springs. My name is Pamela Legend.”
John whistled. “Legend. Now, where have I heard that name before?”
“You are probably thinking legends – folklores, old stories, and myths. I inherited the surname from my father.”
“Does your father live in town?” John asked.
“My father died with liver cancer. Had a drinking problem – among other things.”
“I sense that is not the place you want this conversation to go on this festive, July, Christmas Eve day?”
“You assume right. I’m just strolling. Care to walk with me?”
“Thought you’d never ask, Pamela Legend.” A huge smile covered his face, but he voiced one last misgiving. “Can’t seem to get past that surname.”
“Call me Pam then. Only the special chosen few have taken on the short form.”
“It’s an honor to join their ranks, Pam.” John looked at the pamphlet he held in his hand. “Looks like a full schedule this weekend. You planning on taking it all in?”
“Definitely! Would not miss a thing.”
“What’s your favorite?” John asked.
“That’s like asking me to choose between the dozens of ice cream flavors at Jake’s Parlor. I am free to sample them all.”
He gazed at her with avid interest. “You must have a favorite.”
“Are you talking events on the schedule or ice-cream flavors?”
“Both,” he said.
Pam chuckled. “Let’s discuss it while we indulge.”
“I’ve just finished breakfast.” John objected half-heartedly.
“Fiddle-E-Dee. My friends are always saying this weekend is about cutting loose and living life spontaneous, the way it was meant to be lived.” Without warning, the fun of that statement hit her with a new force. Yes, she was ready for whatever the day held. Definitely beyond her comfort zone, but without a doubt the character she longed to grow into.
“I’m in! Let’s give it a go,” John said.
Pam chose a waffle cone, and the server mounted on two flavors, one heap of cherry cheesecake and one of cookies and cream.
“Really? That is not even a good combination,” John said.
“Didn’t know ice cream was your expertize,” Pam said as she bit the pinnacle off the top.
“I will have chocolate chip and deep turtle delight,” John said to the girl behind the counter.
“Another glimpse into the real you,” Pam said. “You are a chocolate monster.”
“It would appear so. I’m thinking it will go with the banana I had with breakfast.”
The couple strolled to a sectioned off area just outside the door of the café and sat on cozy chairs at a small table. Between licks, Pam laughed. “Passers-by are giving us a questioning look?”
“What? Questioning our healthy breakfast choice, Doctor Legend?”
“I see your point. How will I face my patients and coworkers next week?”
“With all the professionalism I know you have in you – from experience, unfortunately.”
“John, are you remembering anything at all?”
“I recall normal functioning things but not people, history, family.” He looked sideways but not before she caught the glint of tears swimming in his pupils. “I know I love Christmas, so I must have had a good childhood, right?”
Pam frowned not wanting the conversation to go there, but helpless to stop the little girl in her from venting. John sucked raw emotions out of people as effortlessly as he slurped up the sides of his dripping ice cream.
“My father followed the Grinch-model and kept me clear of everything Christmas, but I am pleased to say Cedar Springs is contagious and I’m making up for the lost time in that area.”
John’s voice spontaneously rang out in recitation.
“Boo you Grinch! And boo to Scrooge!
Make way for Santa Claus!
For Rudolf waits with cheeks of rouge
And candy balls stuffed in his jaws.
The sleigh’s stacked, the jolly man packed,
For his yearly overnight spree!
So, eat his fumes, you sons of ruin,
And bury your heads in shame.
Ready, set, go! The season’s aglow!
Nothing can stop it now!
For children asleep, dream of wishes unseen,
Heralding Christmas – love’s joy to gleam.”
“Well done, John Doe. You are a poet and a fan of Christmas. A great start to your recovery. And that holiday chant settles it. Scrooge and the Grinch have met their match in Santa Claus and children’s hearts.” Pam’s enthusiasm waned slightly. “For me, freedom to dream took many years, but here I am, my nagging Grinch gone.”
“That sounds insensitive. Didn’t you love your father?”
“I always thought I did but discovered too late that my feelings were a poor substitute for love. Not one of my prouder moments.”
Pam wiped the cream from her mouth. John continued to gaze at her with those knowing eyes that seemed able to reach into her soul and sew stitches across painful gashes in her heart. Somehow, she couldn’t stop from bearing the inner child to him.
“I once overheard a conversation on the phone. I think I was ten. An extremely upset woman was on the other end. My father was threatening her. By the end of the confrontation, I knew they were discussing me. I learned much later that she was my birth mother. I never even knew she was alive or that he’d married her. Dad’s second wife was deceased at that point, and he followed her to the grave a week later after suffering a long bout of cancer. I fumed through both their funerals – angry for the secrets that no one had deemed important enough to explain to me.”
“Since his death, have you connected with your birth mother?” John asked.
“Not at all. When I cleaned out the house for the estate sale, I searched everywhere for clues of her existence, but nothing. Whatever the reason for the separation, it
was as if the woman never existed. Wiped entirely from the family tree. If it weren’t that his guilty conscience won over on his deathbed, I’d still be in the dark. With his final breath, my father confessed the scant little that I do know. I was furious, but the man was dying, and I attempted to stay composed and not let him see how deeply he’d hurt me. His last words uttered to me was him swearing I was better off without her – that I was a sensible young woman and had a great future ahead of me. My birth mother would only hinder that. End of story! She has never shown her face, so I gather his threats to her are still valid – even from his grave.”
Pam stood and pitched the last of the sugar cone in the garbage container. “You’re right! Ice cream is a stupid idea so early in the morning.” She started to roam down the sidewalk, and within a minute John caught up.
“Whoa! We can go to the bakery if you’d prefer.”
Pam halted, and silent tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. “Who are you, John Doe? Only two people know my past, Tom and Denise. Then in you walk – or rather roll into the emergency room – and wheedle my darkest secrets out of me without even trying.”
John shrugged his shoulders and handed her a tissue. She blew hard then turned to continue a slower trek down the street.
“So, it’s the bakery, then?” he asked.
Pam smiled despite herself, and a relief-filled hiccup burst unexpectedly from her mouth. A hand flew up, and she covered her face, embarrassed at the startling interruption. From between her fingers, she saw the grin growing on John’s face.
“Okay, you win. How about grabbing a drink and something light and fluffy from the lunch café? As you know, Denise’s new baker at the Christmas store is spectacular. The woman is already growing a reputation for greatness, and she’s been here less than two weeks.”
“Lead on,” said John.
Early shoppers already filled the store. The new shipment was on the centrally located Christmas in July display, and eager ornament fanatics were scooping them up. They walked to the counter, ordered two of today’s special treat, caramel flavored cappuccinos and then secured an inside table to soak in the cool air conditioning.
Key to Christmas Page 4