“Aren’t you Sofia Summers’s daughter?” the aging reporter asked, holding the microphone out for her answer.
Shannon’s face turned white. Her voice tightened up so that she could hardly speak.
“Ah, yes, I am.”
“I’m Noel Cross, reporter with Channel Eight News. I don’t believe it. You, here in North Carolina. I was one of your mother’s biggest fans.”
“Thank you. We have to go now.” Shannon stood, trying to bring the encounter to a close.
“And I’ve seen your name on that cartoon show, haven’t I, the one about the fairy?” He loomed closer. “Tell me.”
“No!” DeeDee screamed out. “Don’t you hurt Kaseybelle!”
“Where have you been since Sofia committed suicide? I’m certain her fans would like to know.”
“Now, just a minute,” Jonathan interrupted, pulling Shannon into the safety of his arms. “She isn’t interested in being interviewed.”
“Say, don’t I know you from somewhere?” The reporter took in the scar and the patch, allowing his gaze to come to a stop as recognition swept over him. “Jonathan Dream. You’re Jonathan Dream. I’d heard that he’d become a recluse, but I never realized—get this on film, Joe.”
Shannon let out a cry of dismay. “Oh, no! Please, don’t film this,” she begged. “It’s Christmas. We’re just enjoying a family activity.”
“Family? You and Jonathan Dream are married?”
“No, I’m just a friend,” Shannon answered warily. “And this man is Mr. Drew. You’re mistaken.”
“I’m not mistaken, lady. I have a thing about faces. Jonathan Dream and Kaseybelle. You do look like her. NightDreams and the Kissy Chocolate Fairy. Now that’s a combination the world will find interesting.”
Jonathan swore.
DeeDee began to cry.
The camera whirled.
And suddenly it all came back to Shannon, the wild-eyed fans, the pushing and jostling of the press, people shoving her away trying to get to her mother. Sofia would pretend to be annoyed, dragging Shannon along with little regard for her physical comfort. Yet she’d stop often enough to allow them to ask more questions. Actually Sofia loved the frenzy, basked in the attention. Often Shannon would be lost in the crowd and left behind, afraid and alone until her mother would remember and send someone for her. Then she’d be punished for worrying Sofia.
Later, when Shannon was older and Sofia was less able to handle the press, it fell on Shannon’s shoulders to protect her mother and keep them away. Sometimes she hadn’t known who was the mother and who was the child. She’d begun to feel as if she were losing parts of herself, that someday she’d be neither the child nor the protector, and she’d disappear completely, leaving her mother to be destroyed.
She couldn’t allow that to happen to DeeDee.
Nor could she let herself be responsible for exposing Jonathan Dream to the world. He’d tried to tell her, but she hadn’t listened. Now she had to do something.
Shannon began to move toward the reporter. “All right,” she said softly, “if you’ll come with me, I’ll give you an exclusive interview.”
“But I’d prefer talking to both of you. Keep filming, Joe.”
“It’s me or nothing, buster.”
“No, Shannon, don’t do this,” Jonathan said in a low, threatening voice. “I’ll stop him.”
“Take DeeDee to the car, Jonathan. I’ll join you later.”
Adroitly Shannon managed to maneuver the reporter away, allowing the line of people waiting to be served to cut them off from the eating area where DeeDee was. She hoped that Jonathan followed her directions. No child should have to undergo what she had. This catastrophe was her fault, and it was up to her to end it.
Nine
“Dammit, Lawrence, where is she?”
They’d been waiting for over an hour. DeeDee had fallen into a tearful sleep in the backseat while Lawrence and Jonathan had taken turns combing the mall, with no success.
It was late afternoon when the mall security located the cab driver who had driven Shannon to the airport where she’d bought a ticket back to Atlanta.
“Gone? Why, Lawrence?”
“Something must have happened to frighten her.”
“It’s that reporter’s fault. If I hadn’t tried to hide from the world, this would never have happened. You take DeeDee back to the castle. I’ll go after her.”
“And what will you do then?”
“I’ll bring her back.”
“And after that?”
“What the hell are you asking, Lawrence? I’ll just keep her here, with us. DeeDee needs her.”
“And what about Jonathan? Could it be that he needs her too?”
“No! You know I—I can’t. I won’t take another chance, not again.”
“Sure you can, Jonathan. You’re no monk and you’re no jinx either. You can’t let your guilt over Mona control your life anymore. Even DeeDee knows that you and Shannon belong together.”
“What does DeeDee know about anything?”
“She knew to ask Santa for a mommie for Christmas.”
Jonathan went pale.
“A mommie?”
“Seems she asked last year, but he didn’t bring what she ordered. This year she brought her choice along so Santa would know just which one she’s picked out. All she needs is for Santa to make it so.”
“Shannon? DeeDee wants Shannon to be her mommie?”
“You know the answer to that question, and I think that Shannon knows too.”
“What does that mean?”
“According to the pixie, Shannon told Santa she wanted the same thing that DeeDee asked for.”
“But—but, Lawrence, if that’s what she wants, why did she leave?”
“You’re going to have to figure out that puzzle yourself, my old friend.”
From the Atlanta airport Shannon tried to buy a ticket for California. She couldn’t imagine why anybody would want to go to California for Christmas, but apparently it was a popular choice, because there were no seats.
An hour later she was on the first plane with a vacancy. She was headed for Charleston, where she’d stay until she decided what she was going to do. She couldn’t stay in Atlanta; Jonathan would come for her.
Or maybe he wouldn’t.
Why would he? They’d had an agreement and it had been completed. Willie would have the NightDreams account and become an eccentric millionaire.
As for you, Shannon, this time you’ll walk into the ocean and join Neptune under the sea. Fairies are out. Fish are in. You can be a mermaid.
Except DeeDee had asked Santa for a mom for Christmas, and DeeDee wanted her, not a mermaid. Even if she did exactly what DeeDee wanted, there was still one problem that made the idea impossible. A mommie was not only mother to the child, she was wife to the father.
Mother.
Wife.
From the airport she made a quick stop by a mall, where she picked up clothing and toilet articles. A filmy nightdress drew her attention, and she stopped, caught by its sultry lines.
“That’s a NightDreams original,” the clerk said. “Isn’t it the most exquisite thing you’ve ever seen? I understand that Jonathan Dream creates every NightDream personally.”
Shannon groaned. NightDreams weren’t the only dreams he created. He’d done a fine job of influencing her daytime thoughts as well. Now DeeDee, too, was ensnared in a dream. But she couldn’t blame that entirely on Jonathan. She’d helped foster DeeDee’s fantasy.
Emotionally and physically exhausted, Shannon checked into the Planters Hotel in the heart of Charleston’s historic district.
“You’re lucky, ma’am,” the desk clerk said. “We’ve been packed lately, but everybody’s checking out of here to get home to their families for Christmas.”
Shannon looked around at the brightly decorated old hotel and thought about how much DeeDee would like it, about the rustic old inn where they’d had dinner. She moaned. Was she
going to carry that memory around with her forever?
DeeDee.
Jonathan.
Everything about Shannon hurt. Even her eyes were dry and strained from trying not to cry. She followed the hotel clerk to her room and tipped him, immediately turning off the lights and opening the drapes so that she could see the city beyond.
She felt like her mother, looking for a place to hide, yet wanting desperately to be found. In Charleston she was nobody. She was lost among those left behind with no home and family with whom to spend Christmas.
“Stop it, Shannon, don’t get maudlin. This isn’t some television special, this is real life. And there are no happy endings.”
She’d known from the beginning that she was taking a great risk in leaving Atlanta. But she’d had no choice. She’d told herself it was for Willie, but it had been for her, for Kaseybelle. She’d had to protect the life she’d created, both the present and the past. She hadn’t been prepared for the even greater pain of leaving the castle or making a place in her life for others.
Shannon kept remembering the ride through the snow in a horse-drawn sleigh, watching the lacy flakes drift down and settle on Jonathan’s dark hair when he’d removed his ski mask. The lovely trip to Fantasy World where they’d ridden the carousel and he’d kissed her. But the memory that hurt most was DeeDee’s Christmas tree and the star Lawrence had put up to signal Santa.
Choking back a sob, Shannon pulled down the spread and collapsed on the bed. She still had Christmas Day to get through. Afterward she’d go back to her apartment, where she’d try to redefine her life once more.
She hoped DeeDee wouldn’t be too distressed that she’d gone. But Lawrence would have told Jonathan about DeeDee’s wish, and he’d find a way to explain why it couldn’t come true. DeeDee knew now that she could walk. And Shannon hoped the little girl would continue her therapy and get stronger, concentrate on her progress instead of her pain.
Shannon’s own pain was too great. For now she knew that what she wanted most was, just as it had always been, something she couldn’t have.
She wanted Jonathan Dream to love her.
After a restless night Jonathan went to find DeeDee. Now that he knew what she’d asked for, he expected to find her more depressed than she’d been before her visit to Santa. He was wrong. Instead she was standing by the kitchen worktable, tracing the outline of her hand with a knife on rolled-out gingerbread dough.
“Look, Daddy, we’re making gingerbread handprints.”
“DeeDee,” Jonathan began, hating himself for what he was about to say, hating Shannon for making him say it. “I have something to tell you.”
“What, Daddy?”
“It’s about Shannon. She’s gone back to Atlanta.”
“That’s all right, Daddy. She’s coming back.”
“No, I don’t think so, and I don’t want you to be sad.”
“Oh, I’m not. And don’t worry, Daddy. Me and Santa got it all fixed.” She took several steps toward Jonathan, pride in her accomplishment showing on her happy face.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, punkin. Sometimes Santa can’t bring us the things we want.”
“Of course he will. Shannon said that if I worked really hard and walked to Santa, he’d be sure to bring me what I asked for. He will.”
Jonathan groaned. Damn you, Shannon Summers! She’d accomplished her purpose in coming to Dreamland, but now she would destroy all that. There was no way that DeeDee could have what she wanted. There was no way he could give it to her.
He swung around and went into the study. “Any news yet, Lawrence?”
“Not yet.”
“I can afford to buy and sell a mountain, but I can’t buy a simple piece of information about where one woman has gone?”
“Jonathan, Willie swears he hasn’t seen her, and I think he’s telling the truth. She has a few friends, but none of them have seen her. And she has no family to turn to.”
“All right, if she hasn’t gone back to her old life, she must have gone somewhere else.”
“If she did, she went under another name.”
“Find out, Lawrence Call in every private-detective agency in the state. Get in touch with that reporter from Channel Eight. She talked to him. See if he knows where she is.”
Lawrence leaned back in his chair and glared at Jonathan. “And what will you do when I find her?”
“I’ll marry her!”
“Why?”
“Because DeeDee needs her.”
“You married Mona because of DeeDee, Jonathan. You never loved her, and it didn’t help DeeDee or you. What makes you think that this won’t end the same way?”
“Because—” Jonathan sank into a chair and covered his eyes with his arm. “Because I love her, Lawrence. And I’m scared to death of how I feel.”
“For all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never allowed yourself to be human, to need anyone. You’ve turned into some kind of ice man without feelings. But Shannon’s melted you, and now you’re finding out what it means to be truly alone.”
“You’re wrong, Lawrence, there was a girl once. I loved her and she was taken from me.”
“And she’s gone, she’s been gone for nearly twenty years. You told me once, when you were drunk. Then you passed out and never mentioned it again. That was young love, first love. Are you going to kill yourself out of regret? I thought you had more fortitude.”
Jonathan swore and stood. “No, no, I’m not. I’m going after Shannon—for me. Find her, Lawrence.”
• • •
But Lawrence didn’t find her.
Christmas Eve came, and Jonathan put out the Santa Claus gifts. The next morning DeeDee examined what she found under the tree and seemed content with what she’d received. But Jonathan didn’t miss her continued glances through the window, and when she insisted that they wait to open their personal gifts, he knew that he had to hurt her with the truth.
“She isn’t coming, DeeDee,” Jonathan said.
“Don’t worry, Daddy, I know that you think she won’t be here. But I know she will.”
For the first time in his life Jonathan didn’t know what to say.
Finally after a listless meal of picked-at turkey and barely tasted dressing, Jonathan took DeeDee into the study and sat down near the tree. “I know that you’re waiting for Shannon,” he said, “but we knew when she came that she was a fairy. People can’t keep fairies, they have to be free. She couldn’t stay with us, even if she wanted to.”
“But—”
“I know it hurts, but we were very lucky to have had her just for a while, and she left Kaseybelle behind to keep you company because she loves you very much. Now she has to move on. We have to be very brave and love each other, punkin.”
“Oh, Daddy, I do love you. But I wanted you to have someone special to love you too.”
“I don’t need anybody but you. Now, let’s open our gifts. I want to know what’s in that funny-looking package that looks like a big L.”
The joy had gone out of the day, but DeeDee agreed, climbing down to hand him the gift Shannon had helped her wrap.
Jonathan untied the bow and let the paper fall away. “A boomerang,” he said. “Just what I always wanted.”
“You can throw it away, Daddy, and it will always come back to you.”
He might have missed the meaning of DeeDee’s present if he hadn’t opened Shannon’s gift next. Inside a small white box, intricately cast in polished pewter, was a tiny, perfectly carved possum.
“Oh, look, Daddy. Now I understand.” DeeDee held up a magic wand that she’d just unwrapped. “It’s from Shannon. It’s magic. I know it. It’s filled with Kaseybelle’s magic dust. Oh, Daddy, don’t be sad. Merry Christmas. I love you.”
She took the wand and walked out of the room as fast as her uncertain legs could carry her, leaving Jonathan staring at the possum in his hand.
“Oh, Shannon,” he whispered. “Why did you leave? Did you re
ally want to go?”
As if she were standing beside him, he could almost hear her saucy, “Is that a question?” and his firm answer, “You betcha.”
No matter how awful Christmas had been in the past, this one was the worst of Shannon’s life. She’d taken a midnight flight back to Atlanta and spent the next week not answering her phone or the door.
“No, Willie, I’m sure. I don’t want any company for New Year’s Eve. I’ve rented a video and picked up Chinese food. I’ll be fine.”
She would be, Shannon told herself as she hung up the phone. First she’d take a long, hot soak in the tub, with mountains of bubbles. No, not mountains. She’d had enough of mountains in her life. Just a small frothy hill of pink foam would do. In the living room she turned on the stereo loud enough so that she could hear the music in the bathroom.
Moments later she was sliding into the sweet-scented liquid, her hair pinned on top of her head in a wild mass of damp curls. Closing her eyes, she leaned back, resting her head on the edge of the tub. She wouldn’t think about Jonathan Dream. She’d learned her lesson about the pain of freeing her heart to love.
When she’d left the mall, she’d known her life was over. For a time she’d known joy and happiness. But she’d simply borrowed it. It never had belonged to her.
Nothing in her life was real. She’d been fooling herself for so long, living a dream that she’d built from bits and pieces of fantasy.
She moved her toes and watched the water slosh back and forth, evaporating the bubbles. Once, Shannon Summers had been pushed from one place to another like those ripples, until she’d begun to gather up and hoard small segments of peace. Little by little she’d managed to construct a separate life for herself, a life without hurt, without demands, without pain.
And she’d burrowed herself inside the fantasy. Except that it wasn’t real.
Now the bubble had burst. She’d known the intense emotion of loving a man without restraint, without regret. She’d had, for a few brief, happy weeks, a beautiful child who’d believed in her and needed her. And she’d had a home that had been a sanctuary from the outside world.
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