Twice Upon a Christmas

by Shanna Swendson

  “Will that be enough to pay the bills?” I asked.

  “You’re getting severance, aren’t you? That may cover you until we really ramp up. Maybe you could get some freelance work. And you can always use those PR skills to promote us. We could start getting some club bookings from people who’ve heard us at all these holiday parties. I’m telling you, this could be the start of something big.” She leaned over to hug me. “I know it sucks right now, but it’ll be okay, you’ll see.”

  “Yeah, I know. But . . .”

  “But what?”

  “I was actually enjoying this project. I hate to leave them in the lurch.”

  “It’s not like they were paying anything. Now, come on, we have time for a drink before we have to get ready, and I think you could use it.”

  I woke the next morning to find the sparkly bracelet. Did that mean yesterday wasn’t real? I sighed in relief. I still had a job. Or did I?

  I went to work with some trepidation. I’d look really foolish if I had actually been laid off the day before, but then it would also look bad if I didn’t show up for work because I assumed I’d been laid off. I imagined explaining that absence, that I’d missed work because I dreamed I’d been let go. I approached Janet’s desk, hoping to get a sign from her of what might have happened, but she barely regarded me. My company ID was still in my purse, and it allowed me on the elevator.

  Nobody challenged me as I made my way to my cubicle, and I found my belongings still on my desk. Apparently, I hadn’t turned all my company property over to human resources and packed my personal stuff the day before. I jumped, startled, when Jason stuck his head into my cube. “Hey, there you are.”

  “Yeah, here I am,” I replied, sounding a little too perky—almost manic.

  “Are you doing anything Saturday night?”

  “There’s that gala.”

  “Oh, you’re already going?”

  Oops, wrong life. “What? Oh, no. I just heard about it. Mr. Carlton bought a table, didn’t he?”

  “How’d you know? I only heard about it a few minutes ago.”

  “I’m very tuned in to my clients.”

  “So, do you want to come with me?”

  I tried not to wince. “I kind of already had something planned.”

  “A hot date?”

  “No! Nothing like that.”

  “Then we’re on?”

  I had a sinking feeling. “This is one of those mandatory things, isn’t it?”

  “If you want to stay on the account. And if we want to keep the account. Either way, if you want to keep your job. Our heads may be on the line here. And, to be honest, I need a human shield against Michelle. Please, come and protect my virtue.” His pleading eyes were difficult to resist.

  I weighed my options. If that other life was accurate, I knew what could happen if I wasn’t on this account. I’d be carrying my belongings out in a cardboard box by the end of the day. I didn’t want to go through that again, and I doubted they’d pay me until the end of the month if I lost my job because I refused to attend a client event. “Okay. I’ll defend your honor against the dragon lady.”

  “And I will owe you an eternal debt of gratitude.” He grinned and headed off.

  Once he was gone, I picked up my phone and called Alicia. I got her voice mail, probably because she wasn’t up yet—there were some perks to not having a regular day job. “Hey, it’s me. Can we have lunch together today? I need to talk to you. Call me.”

  She was already waiting at a table when I arrived at the café. “What’s up?” she asked as I sat across from her.

  I went straight into what I’d prepared to say. I figured that if anyone would hear me out on something this odd, it would be Alicia. “I’m having a weird day. Make that a weird week or so. Have you ever had a case of déjà vu?”

  “Who hasn’t?”

  “What about all day, every day—going through every day feeling as though you’ve already lived it?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “That would be weird. Do you mean like that dream you had about not getting the account, so you knew how to get that account?”

  “Yeah, like that. Only I’ve had dreams like that every night since then. I dream every day before I live it. Or maybe I live it and then dream every night about how it could have gone.” It sounded even weirder when I said it out loud, but it felt so good to tell someone else and get a sanity check about all this craziness.

  “So you feel like you’re also living a life in which you didn’t get the account and haven’t been late to or missing gigs?”

  “And in which I got laid off from my job. That was what I dreamed last night. Or it happened yesterday and I’m dreaming this now.”

  She reached across the table and pinched my arm. I cried out in pain. “You seem pretty awake to me,” she said.

  “You don’t think I’ve been pinching myself all along? It doesn’t seem to work, because if this is a dream, then I could dream that I’m in pain.”

  “A shrink would say you’re wrestling with a dilemma. How long has this been going on? Can you think of anything in particular that started it?”

  I mentally retraced my recent life. “It may have started when you made me flip that coin, though it was a couple of days—or maybe one day twice—after that before I realized what was going on.”

  “You never did tell me how that coin came up.”

  “I didn’t look,” I admitted.

  “Aha! I think I know what’s going on. Your mind is trying to resolve that unanswered question for you, weighing both options.”

  “That doesn’t tell me what’s real and what’s a dream. Or maybe they’re both real and I’m just living every day twice.”

  “So you can have it both ways, have your cake and eat it, too. That would actually be kind of cool. And you can learn from your mistakes—like knowing how to get that account. Not that I think that was a good idea.”

  “Or I was able to help my pro bono account in the other life based on knowing about this account in this life.”

  “What pro bono account?”

  “In the dream—or the other life or whatever—instead of getting that department store account, I got assigned to help a center for kids aging out of foster care. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to let me keep my job.”

  “Was it that bad, losing your job?”

  “I’ll have to tell you tomorrow after I dream the next day. I can tell you that walking out of the building with my stuff in a cardboard box and with no idea what money I’d have coming in next year was no picnic. Anyway, the reason I wanted to talk to you is that I can’t do Saturday night. My client bought a table and I have to go as a guest. I can’t let them see what I’m doing on the side, and it’s mandatory that I be there to schmooze the client. I’m sorry, but since I know how precarious my job is, I can’t risk losing it.”

  “You imagine your job is precarious. It was a dream, remember?”

  “They outright told me this morning I could lose my job if I don’t go. That part’s not a dream.”

  “You know how the others will react, right? You’re probably out of the group.”

  “And if I don’t go to this gala as a guest, I’m probably out of a job.”

  “It’s your choice. Maybe in that other life it’ll be different.” With that, she got up and walked out, leaving me alone.

  When I woke the next morning and found the ribbon on my wrist, I lay back against the pillows, enjoying the feeling of not having to be anywhere in particular anytime soon. At least, I hoped. There weren’t any messages on my phone, asking why I wasn’t at work, so I presumed they weren’t expecting me and I really had been let go. Finally, I got up, made and ate a leisurely breakfast, washed the dishes, and tidied up the place. Eventually, I ran out of things to do and had time to think. What would I do with my time? Alicia had promised that I’d be able to pick up more singing gigs, but that still didn’t fill the day the way a full-time job did. I found myself wondering how
things were going with Dan. Had he seen the story on the news? Would the project fall apart without me working on it?

  Then it occurred to me that since no one was paying for my time, anyway, there was no reason I couldn’t keep working on the project. I got dressed as if for work and went to the center. I was so eager to see Dan that I burst into his office, saying, “Hi! Did you see the story last night?” Only then did I notice that he wasn’t alone. There was another man in there with him, a Hispanic man about his age. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were busy,” I said. “I just thought I’d stop by to see how things are going.”

  Dan said, “It’s okay. I was about to call you. This is my brother, Reuben. Reuben, this is Natalie, our PR person.”

  I couldn’t help but look back and forth between the two men. It was hard to imagine that they were related, they looked so different, but I wasn’t sure what I could say about it. Reuben laughed, and Dan grinned. I got the sense that this was an old routine for the two of them.

  “Brothers by upbringing, not by birth,” Reuben said. “Good to meet you, Natalie. I hear you’ve done some great things.”

  “The phone’s been ringing nonstop,” Dan said. “The church down the block has offered us their fellowship hall for the dinner, and three different restaurants are offering food. We’ll have to pick it up Christmas Eve and reheat it at the church, but that’s covered, at least. And then there are whatever presents are donated at Carlton’s. Thanks for talking me into this. We might actually make it work.”

  “You must be excited,” I said. “You forgot to be pessimistic.”

  Grinning, Dan said, “A blizzard will probably hit and ruin the whole thing.”

  “The church might burn down,” I countered. “Or one of the restaurants.”

  Reuben laughed. “Wow, she really has your number, bro. We used to call him Eeyore at home.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Really? I can’t possibly imagine why.”

  Reuben stood. “Well, I’d better leave you two to it. Nice meeting you, Natalie. Catch you later, Dan.”

  When he’d gone, Dan turned to me. “So, what are our next steps?”

  “There may be some follow-ups. After that one story ran, some other news outlets might want to do something. You may have the donations you need, but a little more probably wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

  “You mean in case of disaster?” He bent his head, shuffling papers on his desk before he spoke again. “I guess you have to get back to the office, huh?”

  I hesitated, not sure how I should respond, then checked my watch as though I had a schedule to keep. “Eventually.”

  “Do you have time for lunch before you go back?”

  “I think I can manage it. This is a slow season for most of my other clients. Everyone’s slowing down for the holidays.” I supposed it wasn’t really a lie. I was let go in part because most of my other clients weren’t very busy.

  He seemed a little taken aback, like he’d been bracing himself for a rejection, but then he smiled. “Oh. Okay. I know this place nearby.”

  It was a far cry from the lunches I had in that other life while working on the Carlton’s account. We ate at a hole-in-the-wall neighborhood spot, with mismatched furniture and dishes and service from a counter rather than from waitstaff, but the place was crowded, and the plates were piled high with food.

  “Wow, this is amazing,” I said when I stopped eating long enough to speak.

  “Yeah. The food bloggers will probably discover it and ruin it for the rest of us,” he said.

  “There you go, being all cheerful and optimistic,” I teased.

  “I guess you could call it a coping mechanism. In case you were wondering about Reuben and all that, yes, he is my foster brother. I grew up in the system. I went through some of what these kids have, though I was lucky to have foster parents who kept me on after I aged out. We really were like a family, and we do keep in touch, so I don’t feel totally alone in the world.”

  I tried not to let my surprise show. “Oh. Well, that explains a few things. Like how you knew Tilly’s idea was a bad one. Does she know?”

  “She knows, but it’s so far from her experience that I don’t think she gets it. And I think she believes I’ve moved far beyond that world, like Harvard Law changed everything.”

  “Wait a second, Harvard Law? Really? You are full of surprises.”

  “Just call me the man of mystery. But yeah. I worked for a big firm for a few years, then for a smaller one. We represented Tilly’s family and her foundation. She wanted to do something for kids, I suggested something like this, and next thing I knew, I was running it. I still do a little casework, and I’m still Tilly’s lawyer. Mostly, though, the law degree helps in dealing with all the red tape associated with this kind of operation. So, what about you? What secrets have you been keeping?”

  I gave him a smile that I hoped looked enigmatic. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  “Ah, PR expert by day, international assassin by night. That’s why you’re never available for after-work drinks.”

  “You figured me out. Actually, I’ve been trying to build a little side business, and it’s the busy season for this line of work.”

  “You build custom gingerbread houses,” he guessed.

  “Not likely,” I said with a laugh. “Even my slice-and-bake cookies are eyesores.”

  “Reindeer wrangler?”

  “Closer.”

  “One of Santa’s elves.”

  “Very close.”

  “Do you wear those pointy ears?”

  “Costumes are involved.”

  He smiled like he was contemplating the mental image, then checked his watch, and his face grew more serious. “I guess it’s time to head back to the office.”

  I blinked out of the spell that had fallen over us during the banter and remembered where I was and what I was doing. “Oh, right. They’ll be wondering what happened to me.”

  As we left the restaurant together, he said, “Thanks for everything. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “I’ll be in and out of the office until the holidays, so it’s probably best if you just call my cell or text me at that number. I may never see my e-mails.” It was true, more or less.

  “It must be hard to check your e-mail from the North Pole.”

  “The wi-fi goes down every time there’s a blizzard. I keep hoping Santa’ll get that fixed.” I was still smiling as I walked away.

  On another day, in another life, I headed toward Jason’s office, only to stop on the threshold. Hadley was leaning over him, giving him an ample view of her cleavage as she said, “And see, here’s what I managed to line up for you. I called in a few favors, and we’re getting a live shot.”

  “Wow, that’s the best result we’ve had so far,” he replied.

  They didn’t seem to have noticed me, so to avoid a potentially awkward situation, I took a few steps back, then approached the door again, saying loudly before I entered, “Here’s a draft of that news release. Oh, hi, Hadley. I didn’t realize you were in here. I can come back.” I turned as if to go, but Jason called after me.

  “No, it’s okay. Hadley just got a live shot on tonight’s news for the donation drive.”

  “Which works as coverage for Carlton’s,” Hadley said. “Win-win! I’m so glad I thought of combining these accounts for some real synergy.”

  I started to remind her that I’d given her the idea, but then I’d got the idea from that other life I might or might not have been living, so I closed my mouth and kept quiet.

  “Thanks, Hadley,” Jason said. “I’ll let Michelle know about this so she can get everything set up.” Hadley left the office, brushing past me with a smug smile. I forced myself not to react. Jason said to me, “So, you’ve got that news release for me to look at?”

  How did I still feel like I was losing, even in the life where I was winning?

  Seven

  The next evening, back in my other life, we were
getting ready for that charity gala. They’d gone all-out with the Dickens motif, turning the hotel function space into Victorian London—at least, a pretty, sanitized version of it. There were lampposts decorated with holly and miniature Christmas trees everywhere. We wore our Victorian caroler costumes, hoopskirts and all. The thought of being seen by my former coworkers while I was dressed like this made me cringe. I adjusted my bonnet so the brim hid my face.

  Alicia reached over and pushed it back. “Will you relax? No one’s gonna look at you. That’s how this tends to work. We stroll around caroling while they have their drinks and they consider us just part of the ambience. We may as well be robots. And besides, there’s going to be no hiding once we’re in there and on stage.”

  I grimaced at the thought. “Are you sure you don’t like the idea of glam-rock makeup? You could really pull off the cat face look. Or masks. That could be our gimmick.”

  “Why do you even care? You don’t work there anymore. It’s not like they can fire you again, and once they hear you sing, they’ll wonder why you were slumming with them.”

  The event coordinator came over to tell us it was time to get in place for the guests’ arrival. We moved to our designated spot near the entryway and began singing. I tried to edge to the back of the group, and I held my music folder higher, so it shielded my face. The folder was really just a prop, part of the costume, since we had all the music memorized, and that allowed me to peer over the top of the folder to watch the arrivals without losing my place in the music. Finally, the moment I’d been dreading came, and Jason entered with Hadley on his arm. I raised my folder higher, hiding behind it, but they didn’t give us a second glance. Even so, I didn’t relax until I saw them getting drinks at the bar.