Do You Believe in Santa?

by Sierra Donovan

  “We can get closer if you want,” she said. “That’s why I thought of the four-wheel drive. It’s pretty overgrown.”

  With a grin, Jake turned right and drove toward the screen, the truck taking a bumpy series of small hills and dips as it went.

  “The rises are still here,” he said. “You’d park your car on sort of a hill, and the older drive-ins had posts for these tinny-sounding speakers you’d hang on your car window.”

  Even in the pickup, which sat higher than the average car, Mandy could feel the tall brush scraping the bottom of the vehicle. Several hundred feet from the screen, they reached the last of the rises. The ground in front of it scooped a little lower, and the dry grass between the truck and the screen grew lower, more level.

  Jake came to a stop, facing the weather-beaten screen head-on. “Front-row seats.”

  “It’s less than ten minutes from Evergreen Lane,” she said. “There’s a ton of space, it’s right off the road, and it’s sat for so long, I think your company might be able to get a really good deal on it.”

  She wasn’t sure if Jake heard her. His eyes were still devouring the sight before him as if it were the ruins of an ancient civilization. “This is awesome,” he said. “Want to get out?”

  “Sure.”

  As Jake climbed out, Mandy started to open her own door, then remembered to wait while he rounded the front of the truck to open it for her. He was nice about those things, and she enjoyed it.

  He took her hand to help her down, and she landed on both feet, knee-deep in brush.

  He kept her hand. “Is your ankle okay?” His eyes were fixed on her face.

  She felt herself flush.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “It was a false alarm.”

  He held her gaze long enough to tell her he didn’t buy it, knew she’d made it up. She wasn’t any good at this lying business. Mandy could imagine what it would be like to be someone opposing Jake at a business meeting. He didn’t seem likely to be the first to back down. That might help him when it came to the town council. It sure wasn’t helping Mandy right now.

  He turned back toward the screen. “How long has it been vacant? Did you ever go to the movies here?”

  “Once or twice. It would’ve been almost twenty years ago. I came here with my parents when I was little.” She would have had to be really little, if her dad had still been around. “My father left when I was eight, so I was maybe six or seven. I don’t remember when it closed down.”

  Jake’s fingers curled slightly around hers, and Mandy felt a reaction she would never have expected: a lump in her throat. Her father had left her. That was old news, a fact of life, not something she gave much thought.

  “What movie did you see?”

  She wasn’t ready for the softness in his voice, either. But she didn’t want him feeling sorry for her. She let his hand go and stepped toward the screen, trying to picture the details in her mind. “I can’t remember. It wasn’t a cartoon, and it didn’t have animals in it, so I must have been pretty bored. I know I fell asleep.” She thought about the dark backseat and remembered: “They had me wear my pajamas. We even brought my pillow along.”

  He stepped past her, examining the screen. “I didn’t go to my first drive-in till I was nineteen. They still have a few of them in Pennsylvania, but nothing too close to where I lived. We drove over an hour to get there, and my girlfriend thought I was nuts. She didn’t get it at all.” He turned toward her with a grin. “It really was a lousy way to see a movie. The sound’s terrible, the picture’s dim . . . but it’s all about the experience.”

  “A dark, lo-fi movie?”

  “It’s—nostalgic. Americana. You see the movie in your car, and it’s your own private environment. Families could bring their kids in their pajamas and not worry if they were too noisy for the people in the next row. And drive-ins were huge with teenagers. Lots of making out in the backseat. People used to call them ‘passion pits.’ Kids didn’t always see the movie.”

  Mandy couldn’t resist. “So, what about you? Did you watch the movie?”

  “I was nineteen.”

  “Still a teenager.”

  “Barely. And remember, I went there as a film connoisseur.” One corner of his mouth twitched up. “Plus, like I said, my girlfriend was annoyed.” Taking longer strides through the brittle weeds, Jake picked his way across the now-imaginary front row. “Any idea of the lot size? Or who owns it?”

  “No.”

  A late afternoon wind blew thick brown hair into Jake’s eyes. He shook it back. “It’s a little far from town. . . .”

  “But not too far.” Mandy had tried to anticipate the drawbacks. “Your hotel has the name recognition factor, and people could find it online. The local hotels would still have a shot at customers, too, and the town council would like that.”

  “Cooperative competition. Set it up as a win-win.” Jake squinted thoughtfully and nodded. “It might fly.”

  “I hoped you’d like it.”

  “It’d need a lot of work. The land would have to be leveled. . . .” He shook his head. “Isn’t this dumb? I almost hate to mess with it. It’s like an archaeological site or something.” He flattened a section of brush with his shoe and peered down. “Is that what I think it is?”

  He knelt to brush aside more of the dead grass. Mandy hurried over. “Watch out for snakes.”

  “Now you tell—look at this!”

  She bent to see what he’d found. Based on Jake’s reaction, it could have been a million dollars, or at least a gold brick.

  Barely visible through the weeds, still half-buried in the dirt, a rusted metal speaker poked up from the ground.

  “They never got around to renovating this theater,” Jake said. “That’s the coolest thing ever.” He looked up at her with a self-conscious grin. “Okay, maybe not ever. But still. Later on drive-ins had these wires that clipped to your car antenna, or they just broadcast the sound at a low frequency, so you listened through your car radio. Lots of dead batteries by the end of the show.”

  Jake brushed at the dirt again, then straightened. “However. It’s good and buried in there. An excavation project for another day. And I should probably get you away from here before we find one of your snakes.”

  This time he took her by the elbow, rather than her hand, as they walked back to the truck and got inside. After Jake climbed up beside her, he started to put the keys in the ignition, then stopped and turned to her.

  “Thanks for this. It was really nice of you to bring me here. I’ll need to look at some other spots, too, but this has definite possibilities.” He smiled. “Although part of me kind of wishes I could turn it back into what it used to be.”

  “It’d be fun. At least, until you went broke.”

  “Which is where the business part of my brain kicks in.” His smile faded, and his eyes grew serious. “You see—the business side isn’t such a bad thing. It’s what pays the bills.”

  Mandy nodded. “I know. But I’m not the one you need to convince.”

  “Right.” He put the keys in the ignition, but once again, he didn’t start the car. Instead, he turned to face her, as much as the front seat of the truck would allow. “Mandy, there’s something I want to get out of the way.”

  She waited.

  “I’m going to start asking around about available property in the next couple of days. This spot, for one. When I do that, people are going to know why I came to Tall Pine pretty quick.”

  She tried to anticipate his train of thought. “So, you want me to wait until that happens, and after that, I won’t need to worry about mentioning it to other people.”

  “Right. But there’s something else you need to worry about, and I think you know what that is.” He fixed her with the same direct stare she’d seen earlier, when he asked about her ankle.

  Mandy felt a tickle of apprehension.

  He rested his left hand on top of the steering wheel. “You might not want to be seen with the
guy from the big-city hotel chain. From what you’ve told me, there’s probably going to be some friction about that. Whatever kind of flack you might get . . . you probably know more about what to expect than I do. But maybe you don’t want to deal with it.”

  He seemed to be waiting for her response. Mandy wasn’t sure where he was going with this, so she had no idea what to say.

  “I’d like to keep seeing you,” Jake said. “But I get the impression you haven’t been anxious to be seen with me in public, and I don’t want to feel like we’re supposed to hide. In a town this size, maybe that’d make things too awkward for you. I can understand that. But I don’t want to be a deep, dark secret. If you’re not okay with that, just tell me now and I’ll get out of your hair. No hard feelings. Seriously.”

  Those brown eyes looked at her steadily. It took several seconds for his meaning to sink in.

  That’s why he thought she’d fibbed about a hurt ankle, and ducked her old classmate at the movie theater.

  “Jake, I—” She started to correct him and stopped.

  Maybe the easiest thing was just to let him think that. The truth was a lot more complicated.

  He kept his eyes on hers, his expression almost unnervingly calm. Mandy shifted her gaze back to his hand, resting on top of the steering wheel.

  Not just resting on it. Gripping it.

  As if what she said next really mattered to him.

  She took a deep breath and picked her next words carefully. “I didn’t mean to act like there was anything wrong with being seen with you.”

  “But? Is there a disclaimer coming?” He could certainly put things in businesslike terms.

  “No buts. I’d love to keep going out with you. In public.” She’d just have to take her chances.

  His eyes lost some of their serious look, and Mandy saw his hand on the wheel relax perceptibly. Her heart kicked up.

  “You’re sure?” Jake smiled. “People aren’t going to throw rocks at you?”

  “Well, not for that.”

  Mandy tried to keep her thoughts clear. He’d been open and direct with her; he’d stuck his neck out. She could do the same. Instead of taking the safe route, she could repay honesty with honesty. She should do it. This was a perfect time.

  She tried to imagine telling him: Jake, I believe in Santa Claus.

  Instantly, she pictured the look on his face: disbelief, maybe followed by amusement. Or a hint of pity. She’d seen those expressions too many times growing up. She didn’t want to see any of them on Jake. Not now. Not unless there was no way around it.

  He saw her for what she was—most of it, anyway—without the preconceptions of everyone else in town. He liked what he saw. And she liked the way he looked at her.

  Let me have this. At least for a while.

  It was August. Things were quieter at the store. His hotel project might not even get off the ground, and he could be gone before the Christmas season even started. She didn’t like to think that way, but it was a possibility.

  Maybe he’d never know.

  And maybe the Brooklyn Bridge was still for sale.

  Jake pulled her out of her thoughts. “You’ve got another reason to worry about your reputation, you know.”

  She eyed him cautiously. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, here we are at the drive-in. I told you, everyone knows what goes on at these places.”

  His grin was teasing, and once again, Mandy felt light as a feather. A feeling that she was just where she belonged, because she knew exactly what to say.

  “I feel pretty safe,” she said. “After all, this truck doesn’t have a backseat.”

  His eyes glimmered as if she’d challenged him with a dare. Before she knew it, he’d pulled her into another delicious kiss. It was several minutes before either of them spoke again.

  When Jake lifted his lips from hers, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, can I take you out to dinner again tonight? In front of God and everybody?”

  Not trusting her voice, Mandy nodded.

  Chapter 5

  Jake stepped out of Tall Pine’s only commercial real estate agency with five property listings and a promise from the real estate agent to track down the out-of-town owner of the old drive-in site.

  Inside, he’d gotten his first taste of what Mandy had warned him about. When he went in asking about property, the receptionist’s eyebrows had shot up. He felt like the guy in the movies who strolled into the saloon saying he was looking for the fastest gun in the West.

  He fired up the truck and went to check out the other properties. The agent had offered to take him out to look, but he hadn’t seemed too disappointed when Jake said he wanted to do the initial exploring on his own. No high pressure there, but then, the man might not have taken him seriously. Jake had probably looked like a kid with a checkbook, possibly an empty one at that. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been taken for a guy fresh out of college. Sometimes there were advantages to being underestimated.

  Once he brought up Regal Hotels, it would be a different ball game.

  He checked out the locations and made conscientious notes of the pros and cons. By lunchtime, he gave in to the magnetic pull of The North Pole. After all, he had to eat, and there was no reason he had to do it alone.

  But when he walked into the store, he didn’t see Mandy. Instead, a woman with glasses and meticulous dark gray hair stood behind the counter. Mrs. Swanson, at a guess.

  He considered feigning some browser-type behavior while he waited to see if Mandy emerged from the stock room, but decided to stick with the direct approach. As he walked up to the counter, Jake found himself standing a little straighter. For some reason he’d pictured Mrs. Swanson as a grandmotherly, Mrs. Santa Claus type. Based on her professional demeanor, that wasn’t the case. “Is Mandy here?”

  “She’s off today.” The steel-haired woman inclined her head slightly. “Are you the gentleman from Hallmark?”

  “No, I’m Jake Wyndham.” His name didn’t appear to ring any bells. “It’s not business.”

  He wondered if any vendors’ reps came around the store to see Mandy on not-business.

  Maybe not, because the woman’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. As her glance passed over him again, Jake had a definite sense of being sized up. The feeling reminded him of being seventeen years old and meeting a girl’s parents for the first time.

  Belatedly, he stepped forward and offered his hand. “You must be Mrs. Swanson.”

  She shook his hand, studying him with one more moment of frank curiosity before her neutral, polite facade fell back into place. “It’s very nice to meet you. Mandy is back in tomorrow. We open at ten.”

  No information volunteered that wasn’t strictly business. Jake had to applaud the professionalism, but now he missed the curiosity he’d glimpsed. If Mrs. Swanson had asked him any questions, it might have given him the opportunity to ask a few questions of his own.

  Apparently Mandy hadn’t mentioned him. His male ego stung a bit over that one. After all, this was the woman Mandy had her Christmas dinner with, and she’d told Jake about that.

  Trying to wedge a foot into what appeared to be a rapidly closing door, he offered, “Mandy says some very nice things about you.”

  “I think highly of her, too. She’s a lovely girl.”

  As Jake tried to read the woman’s neutral tone, Mrs. Swanson’s eyes wandered to an unlikely spot: the wall at the far right side of the shop. Jake saw nothing exceptional there, just a red-and-green array of Christmas stockings, collector plates and a couple of snowman prints.

  “You have a beautiful store,” Jake said. “Mandy tells me you stay pretty busy year-round?”

  Her eyes returned to him. “We’re slower now, to be sure,” she said. “But we get a fair number of visitors, and sales are steady.”

  Business. A topic both of them felt at ease with. “How long have you had the store?”

  “Nearly ten years. I bought it when I retire
d from teaching. The woman who sold it to me was about to close the shop altogether. It took a few years to bring the business up to where it is today.”

  “Congratulations. It’s hard for small retailers to stay afloat, especially these days. And this store is so specialized—well, you’re obviously doing something right.”

  “Oh, I can’t take much credit.” Mrs. Swanson smiled with an unexpected warmth, and Jake had a feeling he knew the secret of her success.

  “Mandy?” he said.

  “She made such a difference,” Mrs. Swanson said. “She came in here fresh out of high school to ask about a job. I’d been running the store by myself, and I certainly wasn’t planning to add any staff. But she was so sincere about wanting to work here, and it seemed—appropriate.”

  Mrs. Swanson’s glance flickered to the far wall. “She’s been wonderful for business,” she said. “She has something very special.”

  Her eyes returned to Jake, and that hint of sentiment vanished. “I make it a point to treat her well.”

  He didn’t think he was imagining the message in her words as she looked at him.

  “Merry Christmas,” Mandy told the young couple as she sent them out the door with a carefully tissue-wrapped “Our First Christmas” ornament.

  She liked seeing a husband and wife together in the store. A lot of men killed time elsewhere while their wives shopped here. And she loved the fact that she played a small part in helping them build a Christmas tradition.

  Mrs. Swanson entered on the same jingle of bells on the door that saw the newlyweds out. Good. She could take lunch soon. The work day seemed longer than usual today, probably because she had a date with Jake tonight.

  Mrs. Swanson stored her purse behind the counter. “A young man was here looking for you yesterday.”

  “Jake?” The name was out of Mandy’s mouth before she thought about it.

  “Yes, that was it. I told him you’d be back at work today. I didn’t want to disturb you on your day off.”

  “Oh, that’s all right.” Trying for secrecy was a lost cause. Trying for nonchalance instead, Mandy picked up the feather duster and cast her eyes around for some surface, any surface, that might need her attention. “He called me at home.”