Dear Santa

by Nancy Naigle

  “See. You know exactly what we need. Just say yes. The position won’t start until the first full week of January.”

  It was a lot to process.

  “I tell you what. Give it a try. If you’re not happy with it after sixty days, then you can resign. All you’re wasting is two months of your time. You’ll be paid handsomely and you’ll contribute with just the ideas you rattled off without even really having time to think about it.”

  She thrust her hand forward, and shook the mayor’s. “I accept. I’ll give it a trial run. If either of us is not happy with the progress, on March first we can just walk away.”

  “That’s fair. Now, I must really go before the missus prefers to hit me over the head with the very gift I’m bringing her. Merry Christmas, Angela.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  It was almost too good to be true. Marie would never believe it. She walked with the mayor to the door, and sure as they were standing there, it was snowing.

  “I think we’ll have a white Christmas in Pleasant Sands after all.” The mayor threw his scarf around his neck and rushed to his car, with his shoulder to the wind.

  She stood there in the doorway, letting the snowflakes fall over her. She’d thought there was nothing more unlikely than snow for Christmas in Pleasant Sands, but here it was. Had Santa, or the guy formerly known as Santa, somehow had something to do with this? Was it some kind of sign?

  Maybe they should meet.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  DID YOU KNOW?

  It’s rare for Pleasant Sands to have snow, given its proximity to the Atlantic Ocean and the wind blowing over the warmer (than air temperature) water.

  Angela walked through the falling snow toward the town square. She pulled the fur-edged hood of her jacket up closer around her face. She’d been here hundreds of times. Her sister’s office was right next door, but it always felt like the first time she’d ever been here on Christmas-tree-lighting night. She breathed it all in: the buzz in the air. The joy in the tiny faces. The appreciation of the elders who shuffled down the walk to join in the festive evening.

  Her breath made smoke in the air. It was one of the coldest nights she remembered around here.

  The crowd was thick despite the cold temperatures, and she was thankful for the windbreak as people crowded closer.

  The town tree stood tall and proud in the center of the white gazebo. A shiny black piano was the only other thing on the platform. A man in a Santa hat walked by. Her heart hitched. Could it be her guy formerly known as Santa? She craned her neck to see him, but his hat was one like the kids and the other folks were wearing tonight. No holly on the side.

  She nodded hellos to people she recognized from her store.

  A glorious ruckus rose around the tree as people talked and laughed, waiting for the big moment.

  Suddenly, everything went black, and a hush came over the crowd.

  Then those familiar chords on the piano under the gazebo sounded. The first chords of “O Christmas Tree.”

  The high school band joined in, and the chorus began to sing. Then everyone joined in. All five verses and one last round of the first verse.

  Then all was quiet and three … two … one … The tree lit in a burst of glorious light. Big lights. Little lights. LEDs and good old-fashioned bulbs too.

  The piano keys sounded, followed by the dynamic accompaniment of the band and choir as “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” filled the air.

  As Angela sang the words her heart was so full of memories and thankfulness that her eyes teared.

  “There you are.” Geoff’s voice came from over her right shoulder. “I’ve been looking for you. I knew you’d be here.”

  “Hi.”

  “You’re crying?”

  She smiled through the gentle tears. He was dressed in a black overcoat and that silly Santa hat.

  “Are you okay?” He placed his hands on her shoulders.

  She shook her head, but said, “Yes. I’m fine. It’s beautiful, and it’s snowing.”

  “What are the chances of that?”

  “Believe me, I thought they were zero, but today is very special in so many ways.” She hadn’t even had a chance to tell anyone about the job yet. Not even her sister. “I was offered a position as the tourism director. Here. In Pleasant Sands.”

  “You’re perfect for that job.”

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’m glad we’re friends now.”

  “You deserve that job. No one knows more about this town than you.”

  She froze. The mayor had said the position was being funded by an outside source for the first eighteen months. Had Geoff done it, out of guilt? She’d have to turn the position down if he had, and she didn’t want that either.

  “Thanks. I’m really excited.” She said, “It’s almost too good to be true.”

  “No such thing. I’m happy for you.”

  “Me too. I’m glad we put our business differences behind us.”

  She looked away, scanning the crowd. Now would be a good time for her guy formerly known as Santa to show himself—to take her out of this situation.

  “Who are you looking for?”

  “No one.”

  “Wait a minute,” Geoff said. “Is that formerly Santa guy supposed to be here?”

  Her lips pulled tight. “Yes. Maybe. He’d mentioned the tree lighting.”

  “Well, I’ll leave you to that, then.” He pulled off his hat. She hadn’t even looked for the holly on his. “He’s very lucky.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  At least now she knew how to take a compliment. He turned to leave, then turned back. “But before I go I want you to know that I regret the hostility at the beginning of our relationship. Timing really is everything, isn’t it?”

  She stared at him. Wide-eyed.

  “I have to know. If it hadn’t been for our businesses colliding, if we’d met at a different time or place, do you think we might have been able to honor and cherish through all our years, and in all that life may bring us?”

  “Don’t do this…” She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. “I’ve got to go.” She turned to leave with tears in her eyes.

  * * *

  He watched her walk away.

  Geoff trudged toward the parking lot. He’d even parked right next to her. His heart hurt. Maybe this was exactly why he never got serious with anyone. Hurt too darn much when it didn’t go his way.

  When he got ready to get in his car, the flowers on the front seat made him want her even more.

  No. He wasn’t willing to give up so easily. This was for the rest of his life.

  He put his hat back on, and unlocked the car and got the flowers out. A dozen long-stemmed roses and a white daisy nestled next to each perfect bud, wrapped like they were ready for a beauty queen.

  He stood there holding the bouquet.

  No, too desperate. Cliché.

  He leaned against his passenger door, right across from her driver’s door, and crossed one leg over the other. She wouldn’t be able to miss him.

  No, too suave.

  But when he looked up she was less than ten feet away. She was walking with her head down and she hadn’t even seen him, but even if he wasn’t ready, he was going to make this happen.

  He held the flowers behind his back and smiled. His lip twitched. He rubbed his hand across his mouth, hoping the tic would stop before she got close.

  The expression on her face didn’t give him any indication of what she was thinking.

  He wanted to pull her into his arms, but he just stood there. Waiting.

  She swept a hand through her hair. “You were behind it all. The job offer, I mean.” Her left eyebrow raised, just a tad, as if challenging him to do anything but tell the truth.

  He smiled, hoping she’d give one in return.

  “Angela, some things in business are personal. I realize that’s okay now. Like what was important to my mother�
��so important that she even put it in her will.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and what does it even have to do with me?”

  “Answering Dear Santa letters.”

  Her jaw went slack. Realization written all over her face.

  He rushed to explain before she could get mad. “I didn’t take Mom seriously. The Dear Santa letters project has been hers since the day we opened the first store. I thought it was silly. It was always a priority for her. She used to answer every single one she got. I thought she was compromising what was important for our business with her personal preferences, especially when she had to start hiring people to help her get the job done.”

  Her brows pulled together.

  “But I was wrong. Angela, those letters, they were good. Maybe not directly for business, but where it counts. In the heart.” He held his hand to his heart. The flowers felt heavy in the hand behind his back. “When my mother was in ICU she asked only one thing of me.”

  “What was that?”

  “To answer the Dear Santa letters that were routed to her. No matter how personal the motivation had been I’m thankful for those letters, because I’d have never met you if it hadn’t been for her demanding I personally respond to them.”

  She looked scared.

  “I know that you’re Anita C. Miracle. I think you’ve been realizing that I’m your guy, but you didn’t want to admit it. I’m so lucky I found you.”

  “I never expected a personal response. Maybe that’s why when I received one I felt so connected to what was said.”

  “I hope you were feeling as connected to me as I was to you.”

  “When did you know?” She swallowed hard. “That it was me?”

  “Not for a long time. I’d already fallen for you, before I knew you were you.” He handed her the flowers.

  She held them in her arms. “Daisies and roses,” she said quietly as tears streamed down her face. “My business was waning before Christmas Galore moved into town, you were just the last punch. If it hadn’t been you it would’ve been some other store … or some other time. Don’t feel guilty.”

  “That’s one thing I don’t feel.”

  “Well, then, why are you funding that position for the town to have a tourism director?”

  “Because you’re perfect for that job, and I have ties to this town now too.”

  “The store.”

  “More than the store. My mom met my dad here. He was from here. I never knew him. He died here before I was born. I’m glad she finally shared this little piece of her past with me. In a way, I guess I inherited something else from her too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He touched his hand to her cheek. “We both fell in love in Pleasant Sands.”

  “You mean with Pleasant Sands,” she corrected him.

  “No, Angela. I mean I fell in love here.”

  Her brown eyes sparkled. Her head slightly tilted.

  “With you.”

  Angela said, “I so wanted to believe that. I was afraid…” The words seemed to catch in her throat.

  “I want to jog on the beach with you—” He had almost forgotten. “Hang on.” He ran to the trunk of his car and came back with a bucket in hand. “To collect shells along the shore together. I want to buy you flowers just because it’s Tuesday, wake up to your smile and go to sleep knowing you’re nearby. I look forward to every tiny piece of trivia you tell me.”

  She slapped his arm playfully.

  “I’m not kidding.” He took her hands into his. “You light up when you talk about this town. The new job … it suits you, and that makes me happy. Your eyes dance, and you get this little dimple right there on the right side of your chin when you’re really excited. It’s cute. I want to be the reason for those smiles.”

  “You are.”

  He pulled her into an embrace, a bit awkwardly at first. “Angela Carson, will you spend Christmas with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “And can I be your Santa every Christmas to come?”

  She looked up at the hat, clearly recognizing the holly. “Dear Santa. Most definitely.”

  Epilogue

  DID YOU KNOW?

  This museum resides in the original Pleasant Sands Lighthouse built in 1823. Decommissioned in 1921, it’s remained a town landmark ever since.

  THE FOLLOWING JULY

  It was hard to believe just last December this place was a Christmas store. The historical lighthouse may have been decommissioned long ago, but now it was restored to its original beauty. Gone were the heavy wooden displays filled with Christmas decorations that used to be Heart of Christmas, and the train that chugged along the ceiling entertaining the tiny tots while their parents shopped.

  The only Christmas ornaments in the store now carried the new brand for Pleasant Sands—an eye-catching logo on a porcelain sand dollar or glass ball.

  Where the Heart of Christmas sign once stood, now a sandblasted wooden sign read, PLEASANT SANDS VISITOR CENTER. A free tour through the original lighthouse, including climbing to the top of the harlequin-diamond-daymarked tower, was open to visitors four days a week. From the top one could see the original lighthouse lens and view the ocean and whole town. The tour also included a walk through the history of the town, with interactive displays and framed articles and pictures of Pleasant Sands a hundred years ago.

  The only thing that remained from Heart of Christmas was the trivia Angela posted out front. Posting that was still her favorite part of each day.

  Angela sat at her desk talking to the owner of Akaw! on the phone about the opportunities and tax breaks for new businesses coming into Pleasant Sands. She’d learned from him that “Akaw!” was something surfers yelled when they spotted the perfect wave. Fitting for a surfboard company, and they were looking for an East Coast location. Pleasant Sands seemed like a good fit.

  “Yes sir. I look forward to talking to you next week. We have your reservation all set. See you then.” She hung up feeling satisfied with the progress her small team had already made in the past short six months.

  Just as she hung up the phone, the new blue-and-white trolley dropped off a load of tourists in front of the lighthouse. Stephanie met them out front, greeting them and taking their tickets for the next tour.

  The season was starting out great, and tomorrow there was the huge Fourth of July celebration. A parade, a new gourmet-burger cook-off and the best fireworks display they’d ever had in this town.

  Pictures lined the bookshelf across from her desk. One was of her with the most important people in her life at the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new visitor center: Marie, Brad and Chrissy, and, of course, Geoff. Beside that stood a picture of her with Momma Grace at the register in Heart of Christmas when she was seven.

  She glanced down at the diamond ring on her finger. Everything had moved so fast, but she’d never been happier.

  Marie walked in with a smile so bright Angela was almost afraid to ask what was going on. “What are you doing here in the middle of a workday?”

  “I couldn’t wait.” She flailed a priority mailer in the air overhead. “The sample is here! It’s even prettier than I thought it would be.”

  Angela jumped up from her desk. “You’re kidding. That was so fast. Let me see.”

  Marie opened the envelope and slid out the invitation.

  Each corner had been folded in, with laser-cut daisies around a poinsettia meeting in the middle, where a small silver bow held the invitation together.

  “I love how the intricate cuts soften the square shape. You were right, Angela.”

  Angela carefully pulled the silver bow and opened the invitation into an even larger square.

  Inside, the message was simple.

  Geoff Paisley

  AND

  Angela Carson

  INVITE YOU to JOIN THEIR WEDDING CELEBRATION

  DECEMBER 24TH ~ AT 5PM

  AT THE TOWN SQUARE GAZEBO

  PLEASANT
SANDS, NC

  Nuptials will be followed by the Annual Holiday Tree Lighting. Celebrate with cupcakes, punch and a holiday band with the happy couple as they begin their life as husband and wife in Pleasant Sands.

  No RSVP Required.

  In lieu of gifts, bring a canned good

  for the food pantry.

  “Do you love them?” Marie asked.

  Angela looked again at the collage of special moments on the shelf. A picture of her standing between her sister and Emma on the last day of Heart of Christmas. The ribbon-cutting when she reopened the lighthouse. The first elementary school tour of the lighthouse. And the picture of Geoff on bended knee proposing to her on Valentine’s Day.

  Angela smiled as a warm glow flowed through her.

  “I do.”

  Also by

  Nancy Naigle

  Christmas

  Joy

  -

  Hope at

  Christmas

  Visit www.NancyNaigle.com

  for a full list of novels

  by Nancy Naigle.

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author NANCY NAIGLE whips up small-town love stories with a dash of suspense and a whole lot of heart. Now happily retired, she devotes her time to writing, antiquing, and the occasional spa day with friends. A native of Virginia Beach, she currently calls North Carolina home. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three