Dear Santa

by Nancy Naigle

  “Yes,” Angela said, as if it was no big deal.

  “I’m surprised you made it back with the coffee,” Emma said, only half joking.

  Jeremy slid past Emma. “Glad you didn’t throw it on him. I heard about y’all’s run-in at the parade.”

  Angela blushed. “I may have overreacted that night. We’re fine. He stopped in the other night and apologized.”

  “He did?” Emma looked taken aback. “Here?”

  Jeremy walked over. “Look, I know he’s the competition and all, but that day he came in … I mean, I didn’t know it was him at the time … but he was really nice. Even bought his mom an ornament. One of the nice ones. Had it engraved and everything.”

  She remembered him telling her about that. “He, by the way, had glowing things to say about you too, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy grinned wide. “See. I told you he was a great guy. Must be smart too. Probably a genius.”

  Emma slid the cardboard sleeve from her coffee cup and hurled it at Jeremy. “You’re so full of it.”

  “Hey now,” he said, dodging the projectile. “Just saying the guy has good taste. That’s all. He’s still the enemy.”

  “No.” Angela shook her head. “No enemies. We are not stooping to that kind of behavior around here. We’re all neighbors. Things will work out the way they are supposed to. We are all going to land on our feet. We’re fine.”

  “You’re right.” Jeremy nodded.

  Emma shrugged. “Fine.”

  Angela sneezed.

  “Bless you,” Emma said.

  “Don’t you get us sick,” Jeremy said as he grabbed the other cup of coffee and took it out to Stephanie, who was still ringing up customers.

  “I never get sick,” Angela called after him.

  “We better get out there and help her.” Emma led the way.

  Angela was relieved to not have to say anything else about Geoff Paisley.

  Customers piled into the store. It was good to see people she hadn’t seen in a long while, although so much merchandise was moving that the store didn’t look half as beautiful as it usually did.

  It was a little like watching someone waste away as they grow old and die. She’d mourn the loss of this store, but she couldn’t think about that right now.

  People were excited about the sale, but they also seemed to enjoy staying to share their memories of the store and her grandmother.

  Angela’s heart felt so full from all of the stories. This place had served well for generations.

  Friends from high school, and other storeowners who rarely got the chance to shop during normal retail hours, had made a concerted effort to come over and see what kind of keepsake they could grab.

  Her demise was their good fortune.

  By closing time that night there wasn’t a single nativity scene left in the store. From the least expensive one to the thousand-dollar one, on sale for five hundred, every last one had found a home.

  She put together the nightly deposit, then spent two hours moving things around in the store to fill in the empty spots. She was able to consolidate things to free up two shelving units, and the back room was now empty except for boxes for items still on sale.

  Today she’d sold the train set too. The customers had taken the train with them, since they already had some track, but would come back and get the tracks after the holidays. It was oddly quiet without the chugga-chugga choo-choo going on all day. Funny how it had become just part of the background to her.

  Angela placed her hands on the edge of the breakfront she’d just emptied and pulled herself up. Her fingers gently dragged across the dark wood of the wooden counter. These custom pieces of furniture were so big and heavy. There’s no way she could use them in her house. There simply wasn’t room.

  A couple of customers had asked if she’d be selling the furniture.

  She’d said yes, but she had no idea how to put a price on these pieces.

  Not only did she have no idea what the value was, but also whatever investment there’d been in building the pieces had far been outlived. Did she even really want to part with them? Even if they just sat here collecting dust?

  That was just silly.

  I’ll put the can’t-say-no price on them. If someone wants to pay me that much money, I could have a no-regrets price.

  So she did. She hopped down and grabbed a piece of card stock and her fat black marker. She cut the card stock in half, making two card tents. With tall thick strokes she put a price tag of $1000 on each one, and the words YOU MOVE IT below.

  She could live with selling the pieces at that price with no regrets.

  Out in Snow Valley, Jeremy had raked some of the snow back to the edges. The snow machine was shut down for the night, so it was perfectly quiet.

  Out here it seemed like a real snowy evening, where sounds were blanketed, and the outlines of everything softened.

  She sat down on one of the benches, tucking her hands between her legs to keep them warm.

  Across the way the number of snow sculptures had multiplied over the past couple of days. The soft blue LED lighting shone over them, making it seem like a snow palace out here.

  She got up and walked through the aisles of sculptures.

  A three-foot-tall candy cane.

  Santa’s sleigh.

  She couldn’t really figure out what a couple of the sculptures were supposed to be. They sat next to a detailed Santa sculpture. The way the snow was carved, his eyes had that Santa twinkle to them.

  A stack of holiday boxes.

  And a train.

  Some were big. Some were small. Some simplistic, and some looked professional. Some were half-baked messes, while others were quite detailed and worthy of being on display. The staff wrote each contestants’ name on one of the surplus of china holiday dessert plates to display next to their entry. After the contest, she’d give each entrant their plate with their name on it as a keepsake, along with a picture of their sculpture. A way for them to remember Snow Valley and Heart of Christmas forever.

  It didn’t really matter who won. It was all to bring fun and joy. So really, everyone was a winner.

  Her nose began to run, so she went back inside, turned off all of the lights and grabbed the zippered bank bag.

  She locked up and walked over the bridge home. The night sky was inky black with what looked to be a million stars twinkling above.

  At seven-thirty Angela still had energy to spare, so she hopped in her car and drove to the bank to night-drop her deposit. One less thing to do in the morning.

  With just six shopping days until Christmas she headed to the mall to do the rest of her shopping for Marie, Brad and Chrissy. Everyone else she knew would be getting a gift from the store. She’d already tucked favorite items to the side for them.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Dear Santa,

  My dad and his girlfriend don’t like me to play video games. I like video games. I’m really good at video games. Could you bring me video games? I can keep a secret.

  Thanks,

  Steve

  Geoff sat in the parking lot waiting for Sandy’s Florist & Gifts to open. He’d had the idea in the middle of the night and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. So here he was, waiting.

  Finally, the florist unlocked the door.

  He got out of his car and walked inside. The entrance alert didn’t have the gentle chime like most stores in town. Instead it had the deep groan of a lovesick humpback whale.

  He hadn’t even noticed that the last time he was here. “Hello, again,” he said to the florist.

  “You’re back soon.”

  “I am. I’d like to get a bouquet this time.”

  “Excellent. I can help you with that.” The woman wore an apron that carried the slogan THE EARTH LAUGHS IN FLOWERS. He was pretty sure that was a Ralph Waldo Emerson quote. It was appropriate for his visit, since that’s exactly why he was here. To take Angela flowers that might make her smile. They’d look goo
d on the counter next to her register, and she’d said that daisies were the happiest flower in one of her letters to Santa. They’d make her happy. It was the least he could do.

  “I’ve got roses and mixed bouquets already in the chiller over there.” She waved her arm across the way. “Each one is marked.”

  “Yeah, well, I want something special.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Poinsettias and white daisies.”

  “The poinsettias are on the rack by the window. White daisies are in the bucket right over there, on the front row. How many would you like?”

  He looked over at the rack by the window. Those were the potted plants like he’d bought for his mother. “I mean, together. In one bouquet.”

  “Oh? Well, no one ever asks to do that, but poinsettia is a lovely bouquet flower. I’ll have to put it together for you. If you’re in a hurry I can do it now, but it will take me a little bit.”

  “I can wait.”

  “Excellent! Deep red, pink, salmon or the white poinsettias?”

  “Red, of course.”

  “Of course.” She grabbed a potted poinsettia from the rack, then got the bucket of daisies and carried it to the counter too. “Would you like them wrapped in paper or arranged in a vase?”

  “Vase.”

  “Large or small bouquet?”

  “The size you put on the counter in a shop. But don’t go cheap.”

  She smiled, and then pulled a big red vase that was as squatty as it was tall out from under the counter. A wad of sticky foam went in next. Then she snipped, dipped the ends of the cut flowers in a solution and arranged the poinsettias first. Then she wired the long stems of the daisies and tucked them in between the poinsettias. “How about that?”

  “It’s great. Very pretty.”

  She stepped back. “That’s really nice. I’d love it if someone thought to bring me this. Just makes me smile looking at it.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going for.”

  She wiped her hands on her apron and rang up the arrangement.

  He paid with his credit card then left, anxious to deliver the beautiful bouquet to Angela. He put it in the passenger seat, half tempted to seatbelt the vase to be sure it didn’t spill on his leather seats, but the store wasn’t that far. He’d just drive carefully.

  The front parking space was open at Heart of Christmas so he pulled right into it, then walked inside carrying the arrangement. He felt awkward as heck. It seemed like such a great idea last night, but now he felt kind of like a schmuck. He walked over to the register. “I’m here to see Angela,” he said.

  The girl at the register grinned. He swore if she started singing “Angela and Geoff, sitting in a tree,” he’d pour the flowers over her head and run. But she didn’t. Thankfully.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “She’s home sick today. She has a terrible cold. Can I help you?” She glanced at the flowers. He hoped she thought he was just the flower deliveryman.

  “I’ll come back,” he said.

  Hightailing it back to his car, he was glad no one else seemed to notice he’d been there.

  She was sick?

  She’d seemed fine yesterday.

  He glanced back toward the house over the dune. She’d said she lived there. In the old lighthouse keeper’s cottage.

  He drove around the block. Her car was in the driveway. If he was going to knock on her door he’d better have a pretty good excuse.

  * * *

  An hour later he was pulling back into her driveway with a Christmas tree overflowing out of the trunk of his sporty red Mercedes.

  He wrestled the tree out of the trunk and carried it up to her door. Then he walked quietly back down the stairs to his car and got the tree stand and the flowers. Lord, this was turning into one big production.

  He balanced the tree against the porch railing and tightened the bolts on the stand. He could straighten it once he got it inside.

  That tree had looked big on the tree lot.

  Now, up here on the porch, it looked a little scrawny.

  He picked up the flowers and gathered his courage. Balling up his fist, he rapped on her front door.

  His muscles twitched, body threatening to run away, but when she opened the door there was no turning back. Her hair was a mess, nose red, and a wad of tissues filled her hand.

  Angela looked from him to the flowers to the tree balanced against the deck railing. “What is all of this?”

  “Flowers.” He thrust the arrangement into her arms. “For you.”

  “Poinsettias and daisies?” She admired the bouquet. “These are beautiful.”

  “And a Christmas tree.” He held up his hands, which were black with sticky sap. “The real kind.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I heard you were sick, and I thought we could be friends. You’re nice. I enjoyed talking to you. I don’t want you to regret not having a Christmas tree next month.”

  “That’s pretty lame in light of bigger matters. Like, what am I going to do for a living now?”

  Uh-oh … she was snappy. “I don’t know. I am sorry for that. It—”

  “Don’t you dare tell me it was just ‘business,’” she said.

  “Fair enough.” He thrust the tree closer to the door. “Can I bring this thing inside?”

  She moved to the side, and he took that as a yes.

  As he wiggled the tree through the doorway, she leaned toward him. “It was personal to me. I’m trying so hard to be brave.”

  “You’re very brave.” He peeked around the edge of the tree. “Where should we put this?”

  Setting the flowers down, she pointed toward the living room.

  He said, “You bring this beautiful town to life in a way that no one else can. When you’re feeling better I’d love for you to show me more of Pleasant Sands.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? Are you seeing someone? I just assumed. Oh gosh.”

  “No,” she answered quickly. “I’m not seeing anyone. Not really.”

  “Were you meeting someone that night I saw you at the Blue Pelican? The guy had flowers.”

  “You were there? No. Well, kind of.” She looked like he was forcing her to confess, but all he was doing was standing there.

  “So, you’re not going to tell me.”

  “That was my brother-in-law.” She shrugged. “The closest thing I’ve had to a date is exchanging letters with this … guy. I don’t even really know him. It’s silly.”

  “Are you dating him online? I’ve never done that myself, but I guess busy people like you and I don’t have much time for meeting people other ways. I hear it’s pretty popular.”

  “No, we just haven’t met in person yet.”

  “But you won’t show me the town because of him?”

  “He’s special.” She walked over to the Christmas tree and tugged on a few of the branches. “Unique.”

  “You’ve got a crush.”

  “I’m not a kid. This is not a crush.”

  “Mmm-hmm, you’ve got a crush on someone you’ve never met.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said.

  “Is it?” he asked.

  She looked away.

  “He must be very good-looking.”

  She pushed on the tree to straighten it.

  “I’ll get that. Hold it there.” He climbed under the tree.

  She stepped back when he finished. “Yes. That’s perfect. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I don’t know what he looks like.”

  He put his finger to his lips. “So, you don’t know what he looks like, never met, and yet you can’t show me around the town … because of him? Do I have that right?”

  “I—”

  Geoff gently placed his fingers on her lips. “Do you think you could just relax?”

  She let out a breath.

  He held his hand in place. Speaking softly,
he said, “I just wanted to do something nice for you. I hope you feel better soon.”

  “Thank you for the flowers. How did you know I loved daisies?”

  “You told me,” he said. “I’m going to let you get some rest. I’d love to come decorate that tree with you. And I want to pick out an heirloom piece from your store as a very special gift for someone. Something I can pass down to my daughter someday. Will you help me? When you’re feeling better?”

  “You have a daughter?”

  “No. Not yet.” He forced a smile. He’d never said that out loud. Not to anyone. “But someday.”

  “Yeah. I’ll help you.” She sneezed, then grabbed another tissue. “Have you ever been married?”

  “No. Never.”

  “Me either. I almost was once. But he had a great job offer, and I didn’t want to leave here. Pleasant Sands will always be my home, so I let him go. It was the hardest thing I ever did.”

  “I bet, but at least you knew what you wanted. Nothing wrong with that.” He walked to the door.

  “I wish I knew what I wanted now.” She shook her head, but didn’t continue. “Thanks again.”

  He opened the storm door. “You’re welcome.”

  She waved from the middle of the living room, so he pulled the door closed behind him and left.

  Chapter Thirty

  DID YOU KNOW?

  Wild ponies still run free along the coast of North Carolina.

  The next morning, Angela was still fuzzy from all of the cold medicine, but she did feel better.

  She got dressed and walked over to check on the store. Emma had graciously offered to manage everything while Angela was under the weather, but staying away was harder than it sounded. She walked over, and found the place to be a hive of activity.

  So busy, in fact, that neither Emma, Stephanie nor Jeremy even noticed her at first.

  Between now and Christmas Eve there’d be a lot of shopping. There always was. Most men wouldn’t start shopping until tonight after work.

  Emma helped a woman to the cash register. “Merry Christmas,” she said to the customer, and then hustled over to where Angela was standing next to the last few tree skirts they had in stock.

  “I told you to stay home and get well.”