Dear Santa

by Nancy Naigle

“You two! What are y’all up to?” Angela held the door open for them.

  Chrissy skipped inside carrying a tin. “We brought treats.”

  Marie held up the old Heritage Plaid–patterned jug that Momma Grace used to fill with hot chocolate when they were kids. “Hot chocolate.”

  Emma rounded the corner.

  “Enough for all of us,” Marie added.

  “I’ll get the cups,” Emma said.

  “Can you believe this?” Angela said. “It looks like we’ve been robbed.”

  Emma chimed in, “We had the best sales day of the whole year today.”

  “That’s great news.” But Marie looked worried.

  “It’s okay. I know this isn’t sustainable. We’re still closing,” Angela said. “I’m barely breaking even on some of this merchandise.”

  Marie winced. “Some of that stuff has been on the same shelf for six years.”

  “You’re right,” Angela agreed. “Longer than that. Some of this inventory is from when Great-grandma was still alive.”

  “Well, it’s moving now,” Emma announced. “Customers are splurging big-time. It seems like the most expensive stuff is what we sold the most of today.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “It is.” Angela was relieved that there was at least hope that she’d move most of the inventory before Christmas Eve. The more she could liquidate and turn into cash, the better off she’d be.

  Emma hugged Angela. “I’m glad it was a good day. I’m going to head out if you don’t need me for anything else.”

  “We’re good here.”

  “Bye, Marie and Chrissy. Merry Christmas.” Emma laughed. “Marie. Chrissy. I never noticed that before. Marie Chrissy. That kind of sounds like ‘Merry Christmas’! How fun.” Emma breezed out of the office, and a moment later the heavy arched front door slammed shut.

  “She’s taking closing the store very well,” Marie said.

  Angela placed the checks and cash into the bank bag and zipped it up. “They all are. She’s going to go back to nursing school.”

  “I had no idea she’d done that before.”

  “Yeah. Her parents are going to help her out while she finishes up. Stephanie hasn’t said what she’s going to do, but Jeremy told me this morning that he’s thinking about going to Australia for six weeks to surf with his severance and then figure it out when he gets back.”

  “Wow. That’s exciting.”

  “It is. Everyone is landing on their feet.”

  “You will too.”

  “I hope so. I’m trying to just keep my eyes and heart open to whatever comes my way.”

  Chrissy tugged on her mom’s arm, then whispered in her ear. “Sure,” Marie said to Chrissy. She pulled something out of her purse and handed it to Chrissy.

  “This is for you, Aunt Angela.” Chrissy proudly marched it over to Angela and laid a picture on her desk.

  Angela tilted the picture at an angle. The bright blue background had waxy smudges on it, and there was something with a lot of lines on it spreading diagonally across the page. Then it hit her. “Is this a picture of the Dear Santa app?”

  “Yes!”

  Santa’s sleigh and reindeer … with a Picasso flair. She reminded herself to never pick Chrissy for a Pictionary partner. “Thank you.”

  “What’s this?” Angela pointed to a wild-haired thing sitting next to Santa. “Is that Santa’s elf?”

  “No. That’s you and Santa riding together in his red sleigh.”

  “Isn’t that fun. I hope I remember to bring a coat.”

  Chrissy’s expression grew serious. “Yes, and earmuffs and gloves too.”

  “I will. I promise.” Angela loved her niece. That kid had one great imagination. “Very good advice. Thank you.”

  “Can I go make a snow castle in Snow Valley?”

  “Sure. We’ll be out there in a couple of minutes.”

  “Thanks!” She ran from the room.

  “So you seem to be doing great. I was worried when you didn’t take my call today.”

  Angela pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Sorry, I remember hearing it ring, but I was with a customer. I never even checked my messages.”

  “That’s perfectly fine. I was just worried. I love you, sis. I do understand how much this has all meant to you. I just wanted you to know that I am here for you. I promise things are going to work out for you. I can just feel it.”

  “Thanks, Marie.”

  “You want your life to be full. And not just work. Love too.”

  “That’s scarier than being without a job.”

  “Don’t say that. Look at what I have with Brad. He’s amazing. You’ll find someone just like him.”

  “What if I find someone like Dad? And he leaves me. That would be more than I could take.”

  “Angela. Don’t think like that. The way he behaved was unacceptable. No question about that. He abandoned us, but I think he really flipped out when Mom died. He couldn’t take it.”

  “I know. I don’t know why I brought that up.”

  “Because you’re afraid. There’s change coming. That makes everything seem scarier.”

  “It would be nice to have someone in my life. I envy what you and Brad have. And Chrissy. What a blessing she is.”

  “Your life will be full. Brad and I are here for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, Chrissy and I have a surprise for you too.”

  “You mean besides the Santa Picasso?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go out to Snow Valley with her.” Angela led the way.

  Marie walked into the snowy space. Chrissy was hard at work building a snowman. Sort of.

  “Chrissy, let’s tell Aunt Angela about our surprise.”

  Chrissy came running over to them. “I’m going on a field trip. You get to come!”

  “Her school is having a field trip and it’s my turn to help chaperone,” Marie explained. “I want you to come with us. It’s not until they go back to school after Christmas vacation, but you have to come.”

  “Sure. Why not? Where are we going?”

  “The turtle rescue farm,” Chrissy exclaimed.

  Angela spun toward Marie. “Are you kidding me?”

  Marie grinned. “It’ll be fun.”

  “I’m not going to work at a turtle farm.”

  “I didn’t say you were. I just thought it was a great coincidence when Chrissy came home with the permission slip. Perfect timing. Maybe you’ll find your Prince Charming there.”

  “Fine. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how things go. That’s still a while off.”

  “Chrissy, get your things. We need to get home.”

  Marie held the door open as they all three went back inside.

  “Bye, Aunt Angela!”

  Marie gave her a hug. “Momma Grace would be proud of how you are handling this.” She walked out the door and took Chrissy’s hand, turning back to wave.

  Angela waved, and then closed the door behind her.

  She walked through the store. The place was a mess. Bare spots marked where the merchandise had once sat. Lots of empty spots.

  Only ten more shopping days.

  It was hard to believe how much merchandise they’d sold today. At this rate, the store would be darn near empty by Christmas Eve. Maybe even sooner.

  All that would be left would be the lighthouse. To leave it empty would be a shame, but what could she do here?

  What was it that Santa had said? Well, the guy formerly known as Santa. He’d said she needed to solve a problem. What did the people of Pleasant Sands lack?

  Were there any underserved areas in the business profile of her little town? There were plenty of accommodations, restaurants, bars and souvenir shops. Fishing tours did well year-round. They’d just got the new gym, and that even had spa-related services.

  Where did she fit in?

  That question made her stomach queasy.

  She walked throu
gh the store filling in the empty spots where items had been sold with things from the top and bottom shelves, then turning off the twinkle lights on each display. Suddenly the store looked neater and ready for business again.

  It was hard to imagine the place any other way.

  She grabbed her laptop and started searching the internet for repurposed lighthouses. Some were homes; others had been transformed into bed-and-breakfasts, only she wasn’t so sure that was the kind of business she wanted to run. Then again, at the prices some of these were charging she could hire an innkeeper.

  But did Pleasant Sands really need another place for tourists to stay? She’d be putting herself in direct competition with people she’d known her whole life.

  An alert flashed on her screen. She had a new email.

  She smiled as soon as she saw who the most recent email was from.

  Dear A—

  I’m quite impressed. That’s not an easy decision. See. You are brave. I knew you were.

  I’m in the middle of a project but as soon as I get things sorted out, would you like to meet for a toast to new beginnings? I’d love to celebrate with you. You said Pleasant Sands is lovely. I hear there’s a wonderful Tree Lighting on Christmas Eve. Maybe I’ll see you there. I’m easy to spot with the red fur-trimmed stocking cap with the sprig of holly on the side.

  Maybe we’ll even collect shells together as we walk along the beach.

  Talk to you soon,

  Formerly Santa

  Meet?

  Her heart did a giddy-up. Celebrating sounded exciting, but goodness knows what they’d be celebrating.

  I’m losing my business. Hardly something to celebrate.

  She’d have to really think about this meeting, and that made her nervous. Her palms were sweating at just the thought. Rather than deal with that she went back to her research. There were several lighthouses that had tours. And if she gave lighthouse tours and acted as the docent she could restrict that to Memorial Day through Labor Day.

  She had no idea how much it would cost to keep the lighthouse open without all the hoopla and expense from the holiday lights. They’d been a staple forever. But certainly it would be less expensive without all of that going every day.

  She quickly worked up a budget to see what the bare bones would be just to break even on the lighthouse and her own bills.

  It wasn’t really that much.

  Plus she had enough savings to last her a year. A whole year. There was something very comforting about that. Plus liquidating the inventory would provide her with even more of a nest egg.

  Tours were always an option, but how many people would want to tour the lighthouse? Especially when there were so many more interesting things to do in Pleasant Sands. It wasn’t haunted, and there was no hugely enthralling story tied to it. Didn’t even have any historical rescues to speak of, compared to the lighthouses she was reading about online.

  There had to be a better solution. All she needed was one good idea.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Dear Santa,

  How are the reindeer? I’ll be asleep when you come, but my dad gets up real early. You need to bring my toys before five-thirty in the morning so he doesn’t see you. Please bring him a new pair of gloves. His have a hole in the fingers.

  Thanks,

  Joe

  Sitting at Sunday brunch at his mom’s with Virgil felt like old times. Geoff tried to remember the last time all three of them had done this.

  It had to have been at least six years ago, but the menu was exactly the same. She’d made omelet croissant boats.

  His favorite.

  Fresh croissants scalped and gutted, then filled with a mixture of egg, cooked bacon, cheese, seasonings and fresh chives baked in the oven until the eggs fluffed. This was her special brunch recipe. She arranged the boats in a circle on a glass platter like a breakfast regatta next to the bowl of fresh fruit and vanilla yogurt in a cut-glass bowl.

  Geoff poured fresh juice for all of them and sat down at the table.

  Virgil blessed the food as he always did, with one extra “please, Lord, watch over Rebecca” added in. Geoff noticed Virgil squeeze his mother’s hand.

  Mom stuck to the fruit, he noticed, but didn’t say anything. He was sure it had something to do with doctor’s orders, and that made him happy.

  After brunch, they adjourned to the living room to help his mother put up her Christmas tree.

  The ceiling-scraping pre-lit tree had been a best seller at Christmas Galore a few years back. Virgil had the thing up in less time than it took Geoff to gather the boxes from the attic.

  “Almost looks good enough to me with nothing on it,” Geoff said.

  “No sir. Don’t you wimp out on me,” his mother said.

  “I’m just kidding.” He stacked the boxes next to the coffee table. “Just a few more. I’ll be right back.”

  “Tree skirt first,” his mother insisted.

  Virgil sifted through the boxes. “Here it is.”

  She unfolded the creamy white fabric and walked out on the deck to give it a good shake and fluff. She slid the door closed behind her, and then spread the skirt out beneath the tree. The silky fabric shimmered. Crystal beads had been hand-stitched into place in the shape of snowflakes, which reflected the twinkle lights from the tree above.

  Geoff came back with a stack of three more red-and-green storage boxes. He opened a box of glass balls and handed them to his mother. Then handed Virgil a box of silver stars to hang, saving his favorites, the Twelve Days of Christmas ornaments, for himself. Made of molded mercury glass, each decoration represented a verse of the song, with a small golden number dangling below it. He started at the top with the first-day ornament with the partridge in a pear tree. Moving around the tree he hung the ornaments in order as he hummed the song, ending with the drummers.

  It had been these ornaments that had taught him the order of those crazy gifts of Christmas in the carol.

  His mother peered over her shoulder at him and smiled.

  Before long the tree was filled with ornaments, and memories.

  “It’s perfect.” She took a step back, clasping her hands in front of her.

  “Very nice, Rebecca,” Virgil said.

  Geoff walked around the tree. “No. It’s not quite perfect.”

  “Did we miss a spot?” His mother rushed around to where he was standing, studying every branch.

  “No.” He walked over to his jacket on the couch and pulled out the red box with the gold bow. “For you.”

  “Oh, I’ll put it under the tree. You’re so thoughtful.”

  “No.” Geoff touched her arm to stop her. “It’s for you today.”

  “But it’s not even Christmas.”

  “I know that, but I’d like you to enjoy it now too,” Geoff said.

  She looked like she’d already guessed what it was. “Thank you.” She opened the box. “Geoff, it’s beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “This is fourteen-carat gold. Where did you find this?” She spun the ornament from its fancy hook between her fingers. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

  “I bought it at the little shop in the lighthouse.”

  “Heart of Christmas,” she said, exchanging a glance with Virgil.

  “I read in the paper this morning that they’re closing shop on Christmas Eve,” Virgil said.

  “Goodness. Geoff told me that rumors were going around the store was in trouble. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “Everything in the store is fifty percent off,” Virgil said. “Right off the bat.”

  Geoff’s mouth went dry. He grabbed the newspaper off the counter, and started flipping through it. Virgil had read it right. Heart of Christmas was closing its doors on Christmas Eve. She was really going through with it. Every single thing in stock was marked down half-price. There wasn’t even that much of a markup on some of the kinds of things she carried.

  “Who’s up for dessert?�
� his mother asked. “I made pumpkin pie.”

  “With whipped cream on mine,” Virgil said.

  Geoff closed the paper. “None for me.” He’d lost his appetite. Although he knew it wasn’t his fault Heart of Christmas was closing, he felt bad for the stress he’d added to Angela’s already difficult situation.

  Filled with regret he sat down on a bar stool.

  Virgil twisted around from the couch. “You worried that going-out-of-business sale is going to throw our sales off?”

  Geoff shook his head. “Not really. It’ll certainly pull a certain amount of the holiday spend, but what we sell is so different.”

  “What’s the matter, then?”

  He could never hide his moods from Virgil. “Just sorry a family business is going under,” Geoff said.

  His mother walked out of the room and came back carrying two plates. She handed Virgil his, then took a seat in the blue recliner where she always sat. “It is sad. The lighthouse is on the historic places list, so that will still stay on the town’s radar. Maybe that new tourism board will think of something to do with it.” His mother had a sly grin on her face.

  Virgil shoved a forkful of pie into his mouth. “You know, your mother was telling me that you might volunteer for that committee. They are merging the retail merchants group and the business development committee into this new tourism board. They’ll be looking at the brand of Pleasant Sands as a whole. You know, coming up with a marketing plan and showcasing the town to optimize tourism.”

  Geoff hadn’t contacted the mayor about it, but the mayor had sent him an email about it too. He wasn’t entirely certain that his mother hadn’t told them to send that email. He wouldn’t put it past her. “I don’t know that I have time for all of that.”

  Virgil’s bushy eyebrows rose. “You don’t not have time for it, boy. That board will drive the demographics and tourism rates for all of us in business in this town. You could do good things as part of that team.”

  Rebecca smiled gently. “You should share your experience. You’re a natural at branding.”

  Maybe he could offer something of value to that tourism board after all. “Well, it is the season of giving.”

  His mother sat forward. “Are you thinking about it?”

  “Would that make you happy?” he asked.