by Nancy Naigle
Colorful flames licked the air. She tented two small logs on either side of the starter, then poked at them to get them nestled with enough air between them to make them burn hot, just like the guy who’d delivered the logs had told her to do. She stepped back, warming her hands in front of the bright orange flames.
RayAnne came back downstairs with her pillow and quilt and spread out on the couch. “That’s toasty. You did good, Mom.”
“Thanks, kiddo. I’m getting better at it. That’s for sure.”
RayAnne laughed. “At least we didn’t have to open the doors and windows to let the smoke out this time.”
Sydney laughed. “That was a rookie mistake.” But it had been funny after the fact. She sat down at the other end of the couch, gazing into the pretty flames and thinking about how quiet the house was going to be with RayAnne gone. She slid her legs out to her side and tucked them under RayAnne’s quilt. RayAnne was already asleep.
By nine o’clock Sydney couldn’t stay tucked in any longer, so she got up and started frying bacon. Enough for breakfast and some left to have bacon cheeseburgers that night. RayAnne’s favorite.
When she heard RayAnne turn on the television in the other room, Sydney cracked the eggs and fixed breakfast. She arranged the food on the plate to look like a smiley face—eyes of eggs, bacon mouth, and a fresh orange slice nose.
She carried them out to the living room. “Hungry?”
“You woke me up with the bacon. Smells so good in here.”
Sydney grinned. “Always works.”
RayAnne took one of the plates and set it in her lap, lifting a piece of bacon to her lips. “Think we could stop by The Book Bea today, too?
“Sure. You want to pick up some books for your trip?”
RayAnne shrugged. “I guess. And I thought we could say hello to Miss Bea. I like her.”
“She’s very nice.”
“I can’t believe it’s less than a week before school’s out.”
And you leave, Sydney thought. “I know. It’s going to be here before we know it. We probably should start figuring out what you’re going to pack. I bought you some new socks. You’ll need those for skiing. Your dad said something about needing some dressy clothes for dinner.”
RayAnne rolled her eyes. “I liked it better when Dad and I just ate junk all the time. It’s Ashley that likes to eat at those fancy places. Last time we had to eat raw fish. It was just gross. And she got mad when I didn’t like it.”
“Well, try to enjoy it. Not raw fish, but the places. You’ll find that one day you’ll enjoy going out to fancy places, too.” Would’ve been nice if Jon had made the effort to take her to a few the last few years.
“I doubt that. I hate dresses.”
“We can shop for a new one.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather buy something good than a dress. I’ll wear the stupid blue one.”
“Suit yourself.” That was going to be Jon’s battle to fight. No sense in stressing herself out over it. She leaned over and gave RayAnne a hug. “I love you just the way you are, kiddo.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Sydney finished her breakfast and took their plates into the kitchen before going upstairs to change. The leisurely morning had been an unexpected luxury. She took her time in the shower and even put on some makeup. Something she hadn’t done in way too long. It felt nice to make an effort for no one but herself. She leaned closer to the mirror and applied lipstick, stepped back and pressed her lips together, then fluffed her hair.
“You about ready, RayAnne?”
“Already downstairs.”
A good sign. Maybe today would be okay after all.
The drizzle had stopped, but it was still cold outside. Bundled in their winter jackets, Sydney and RayAnne headed into Santa’s Village. Heat lamps had been set up, offering a warm place to thaw, but with so many people standing close together it really didn’t feel that bad.
“Want to look around first?” Sydney asked.
“No. Let’s talk to Santa first, then look around.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Sydney let RayAnne lead the way.
They stood in line, moving up a few steps at a time.
Sydney watched Santa. It looked like the same one who’d been there Thursday night, but then red suits and white beards had a way of looking the same.
The music coming from the speakers suddenly stopped mid-jingle, and the visitors who’d been singing along found themselves in an awkward a capella until a man’s voice announced, “Hopewell Elementary School.” A choir of children’s voices rose from the ground to the heavy clouds hanging just above them in a chorus of “What Child Is This?”
“That’s your school, RayAnne. Did you know they had a choir?”
She shook her head.
“They’re really good.”
RayAnne nodded and sang quietly along.
The line slowly moved closer to Santa Claus, who seemed to be in no hurry at all. One at a time he seemed to give his full attention to each child.
The song ended and everyone clapped.
The first five chords of “The First Noel” was all it took for RayAnne to recognize it. “My favorite one!”
A woman next to them leaned in. “Mine too.”
They sang along as they continued to inch along in line.
A few minutes later a costumed character dressed up like a snowman walked along the line, handing out free pencils decorated with poinsettias from the local florist and a coupon for a discount on a cookie.
RayAnne thrummed her pencil in the air and then against her leg as she sang along to a chorus of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” coming over the speakers.
An ear-piercing squeal, “RayAnne!” came from across the way. Two girls ran across the lot, leaving their moms looking confused in the middle of Santa’s Village.
The girls shared how totally awesome their visits with Santa had been, confirming how cool he was, and that every year they got what they asked for.
RayAnne’s face lit up. “I know what I’m asking for then.”
“What?”
RayAnne looked like she didn’t want to tell them at first. Probably afraid the wish wouldn’t come true if she shared it, but that was birthday wishes not Santa. Sydney hoped RayAnne was going to say a bike, since that’s what she’d gotten her.
“A four-wheeler.”
“No way,” the auburn-haired girl said, looking impressed.
RayAnne stood taller. “They’re cool. My dad got one for us, but then we had to move. So maybe Santa can bring me one.”
Sydney’s mood sank. That was not going to happen. There was no way she was buying her daughter a four-wheeler. They were dangerous. Jon had started all of that, not for RayAnne, but because he’d wanted one. And boy had there been a battle when he demanded it in the division of property, because RayAnne had felt like it was hers even if she’d ridden on the back most of the time. If RayAnne had any idea how easily Sydney had agreed to Jon’s request for that four-wheeler she’d be mad at her for sure.
She hoped RayAnne hadn’t been trying to guilt him into buying her one. Jon would never do that without talking to her—or would he? The next time they talked she might have to ask very specifically what his gift plans were for RayAnne.
RayAnne bounded back over to Sydney, cheerful and a bundle of energy. “The girls said the cookies here are the best.” She waved the coupon in the air. “Can we get one?”
“We’ll do that after we’re done here.”
Santa’s head elf was a pretty blonde girl, complete with pointy ears and elf shoes that turned up a good three inches at the toes. Sydney wondered if the elf and Santa were somehow related. They seemed to have one of those unspoken communications that kept everything moving along smoothly.
RayAnne grabbed Sydney’s hand. There were only a couple people in line in front of them finally. RayAnne’s hand was sweaty, and Sydney gave it a little squeeze. At least if she was nervous it meant she still beli
eved. At least a little.
The elf walked over to them. “First time visiting us?”
RayAnne nodded and glanced away.
“We just moved here,” Sydney said.
“Welcome to Hopewell. It’s a wonderful town. You’re going to love it here. What’s your name?” she asked.
“Ray.”
“RayAnne,” Sydney inserted. Jon had wanted a boy so badly that he’d practically ignored the fact that she was a girl. Sydney had never been a fan of that nickname. “Her dad is the only one who calls her Ray.”
The elf typed the name into her tablet. “Don’t be nervous, RayAnne. Looks like Santa has you on his nice list.”
RayAnne’s face lit up.
The elf turned to Sydney. “Would y’all like a picture? No obligation to buy unless you like it. They’ll be on display in the gift shop when you exit.”
“Yes, definitely.”
“Mom!” RayAnne huffed in exaggeration. “I’m too old for a Santa picture!”
“Oh, just do it for me. You can give a copy to your dad for Christmas. He’ll love it.”
RayAnne pouted, letting out a little huff.
“Go ahead. Act a fool. Don’t think Santa can see you from just over there?” Sydney gave the elf another nod of confirmation.
The pout disappeared from RayAnne’s face instantaneously.
The elf led them down the red velvet roped walkway leading to Santa. Sydney wondered if this was what it felt like to walk one of those red carpet events. As they got closer to Santa’s Snow Castle she was surprised at just how intricate the details were. Something she’d expect of a big budget store in Atlanta, not tiny Hopewell. They’d certainly put a lot of effort into this display.
They waited patiently until there were only two women in front of them. Those women have to be about my age, Sydney thought. She’d overheard them say they were planning to ask Santa for new boyfriends this year.
“Have you looked into Santa’s eyes?” one asked.
“Yes. I know Santa was supposed to have blue eyes, but I’m telling you those brown eyes of his send me absolutely over the North Pole. They look like dark chocolate. And you know how I love chocolate.”
“I’d love to see him without that getup on. When I came last week I snuck a squeeze of his arm. I swear he has the biceps of a professional athlete.”
“I’m dying to see his mouth. I’m going to tug on his beard and see if it pulls away,” she giggled.
“I did last year and it is stuck tight. He’s determined to keep that secret. Probably a felon on the run from the law.”
“That would be my luck. Mom always said I was a bad-boy magnet.”
“Everybody has baggage. He’s probably a closet drunk. Might even have twenty nippers in his big old Santa boot right now.”
“His nose is red. Isn’t that a sign of drinking? Red wine makes people flush. That could be it … he’s a wino.”
“I’d drink with him. I’m telling you he’s not a drunk. He’s perfect. Kind. He listens. Even with us being totally inappropriate he won’t be inappropriate. You watch.”
The head elf came over and led the two women for their turn.
Sydney didn’t find the humor in it at all. Yeah, she might be skeptical of love since Jon’s betrayal, but even before all of that she wouldn’t have found their behavior cute.
She couldn’t help but stare as the two women traipsed up to Santa’s Snow Castle. They were definitely working it, flirting so blatantly that Sydney was embarrassed for them. Lord, please don’t let me get that desperate, she prayed. Ever.
It irritated her that they’d take up Santa’s time when so many children were waiting in line.
The elf came back over. “You ready?”
“I guess. Do you have a name?” RayAnne asked.
“Of course, I do. My name is Rebecca.”
“Hi Rebecca. No offense but this Santa Claus isn’t anything like our one at home. His beard doesn’t even look real.”
Rebecca straightened, and then leaned forward with her hands on her knees. “Give him a chance. He might not look like your old Santa, but I have worked for him a long, long time. I can promise you that there is something very special about this one.”
Sydney flushed. Sorry, she mouthed to Rebecca.
“We were supposed to go back to our hometown in Atlanta today. The weather messed us up.”
Rebecca nodded. “I understand. Sometimes things happen for a reason.”
“Sorry, kiddo.” How many times would she apologize for this today? As many as it took.
RayAnne sighed. “I know it’s not your fault, Mom. I love you anyway.”
“Love you, too.” She wrapped her arms around her daughter and gave a humbled smile toward Rebecca.
“Moving is hard.” Rebecca laid a gentle hand on RayAnne’s shoulder. “It’s your turn next.” She led them to the left side of Santa’s Snow Castle where Sydney could wait, then led RayAnne up the stairs.
Sydney’s throat tightened. Tears welled as every Santa visit over the years came crashing back. Always the three of them. Jon had always made time for the three of them to make this Santa visit each year. She’d never felt quite this lonely.
This Santa’s padding looked just as faux as that cottony beard and eyebrows, but there was something genuine about him. The way he moved, cared, and didn’t seem to be in a hurry at all. And his elf had a gentle and kind spirit, too.
Rebecca walked over and gave her a gentle smile. “Told you he was a good Santa. Everyone loves him.”
Sydney watched him again. Still just as thoughtful and focused as he’d been earlier. Maybe this Santa did have a connection with the big guy.
* * *
“Ho-ho-ho. Who do I have here?” Mac held his arms wide, welcoming the little girl.
“RayAnne.” She hesitated, then climbed onto his lap.
Mac liked to catch them off guard when they seemed a little suspicious. “You’re not the RayAnne on the naughty list, are you?”
“No sir.”
“I didn’t think so. She has blonde hair.”
“You’re probably confused because I just moved here with my mom.”
“That’s right. You were from…”
“Near Atlanta.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Wasn’t his first rodeo. He had a way of pulling details out of the kids so that they walked away thinking that he knew everything. Well, he did have a few tidbits from Rebecca to help, too. In this case, the young girl’s nickname.
“Sometimes our lists need a little review. Do you think you’ve been a good girl this year?”
RayAnne hesitated. That didn’t happen often, but he braced himself, because when they became thoughtful like that, there was usually more to the story.
“I think so. It’s been a hard year. We had to move because my dad has a girlfriend. I’m afraid maybe it was something I did. Do you know?”
Mac let out a breath. “It’s not something you did. You’ve been a good girl. It’s not easy though.”
“I miss him. But I miss all of us together most. It’s sad.”
“Have you talked to your parents about it?”
“I’m afraid to make them sad, too.”
“I know they both love you very much. They want you to be happy. Never be afraid to talk to your parents about what’s hurting your heart.” Mac’s throat tightened. He wondered what thoughts had gone through Seth’s head about Genna leaving that he’d never voiced. “What’s on your list this year?”
“I miss my dad. And now we moved. Dad is taking me skiing with his girlfriend so I won’t even be home. Mom will be all alone. Can you bring something to Mom instead?”
“That’s very kind, Ray. You are definitely on the nice list.”
She leaned back, her mouth forming an O. “My daddy calls me that.”
He winked. “I know. Our secret.”
“If you could just find a present for Mom so she’s happy again, that would be re
ally good. I want a four-wheeler for Christmas. Daddy got one for us to ride, but he wouldn’t let us bring it. So if he isn’t going to give me one maybe you could bring that.”
“You can be happy in your heart, and know that both of your parents love you no matter where they live. I want you to believe that. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes sir.” RayAnne lowered her head. “Do you have our new address?”
“I sure do.” He tapped the side of his head. “Got your address right here. Don’t you worry. I’ll find you no matter where you go. Santa always knows where his favorite nice kids are. And remember that not all the gifts of Christmas are under the tree. Okay?”
“Thanks, Santa.”
“You’re welcome, RayAnne. Let’s have a picture taken.” He and RayAnne turned and faced the camera, and Rebecca snapped the picture. The little girl turned back and gave him a hug before skipping back to her mom.
Rebecca gestured them toward the exit.
“He’s the real Santa, Mom,” RayAnne gushed. “He knew everything. He’s totally different, Mom. That is Santa.” She looked back toward him with a wide grin.
This was exactly why he loved this job. He leaned over, picked up his mug of water and took a sip.
“Really, Mom. The bad weather was the best thing that could have happened today. I’m so glad I didn’t miss this.” She sucked in a big breath. “Love you, Mom.”
Rebecca clapped her hands. “I know exactly how you feel. He’s the only reason I work here. I was just telling your mom that.”
Mac loved how Rebecca perpetuated the myth.
He noticed that RayAnne’s pretty, dark-haired mother was staring at him. He smiled and waved.
She wiggled her fingers in an embarrassed wave back, then pressed her lips together in a smile that revealed a dimple in her left cheek.
And it just wasn’t right for a woman so beautiful to be so sad that her daughter was worried. And what kind of man cheated on a woman like that? He silently hoped that Hopewell would change her life for the better.
* * *
Mac drove home, humming along to Tchaikovsky’s “Waltz of the Flowers” from The Nutcracker.