Mistletoe Magic

by Lynn Patrick

  Shaking his head, Rafe leaned over the rickety table to take a couple of cookies. The Sunday paper was spread out on top of the table, open to the employment ads. He noticed a few were circled, and as he examined them his eyebrows rose.

  “What’s this? ‘Waitress wanted for roller-skating restaurant. Part-time. Must be able to work evenings and weekends,’” he read aloud. “And this one? ‘Volunteer for psychological experiments at university. Paid by the hour.’”

  Humming, Melissa carried a tray with the coffee and cups into the room. To add a holiday touch she’d placed a couple of Christmas decorations on the tray as well, one of them a tiny, haloed angel. She thought Rafe was talking to himself until she caught the gist of his words.

  “Are you really considering being a costumed representative of the Hot-Cha-Cha Popcorn Company?” he asked incredulously. “And passing out samples in supermarkets?”

  Melissa colored as she set down the coffee. “I was just looking. I need another job, you know. The Santa’s helper position will be over this Tuesday.”

  “Some of these jobs are for weekends or evenings.”

  “Well, I have to take what I can get, seeing as I need to work it around my library hours.” Was he going to start criticizing her work situation again? Melissa wondered. Wanting to fully celebrate the season, she’d like to forget her problems at the moment. Grim reality would set in soon enough when she’d start needing money by this time next week. “Let’s put the paper away.” She tried to fold it up.

  “Just a minute.” He pointed to another circled ad. “What about this one? ‘Environmentalist wanted. Get paid for demonstrating against toxic waste.’”

  “I marked jobs I thought looked interesting. I planned to eliminate some of them when I read them more closely.” Her face grew warmer with embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to share her frustrating job search with Rafe.

  “You could eliminate all of these. They certainly won’t pay much. These aren’t jobs for an adult.”

  How could he start a fight now? Melissa wondered angrily, stubbornly setting her jaw. “Are you insinuating I’m not mature?”

  “I didn’t say that. But look at all this.” He gestured at the room. “You could afford real furniture if you got a fulltime job. You have to admit you’re not living like a person should at your age.”

  “According to whose standards?”

  “Melissa.” Rafe’s voice was placating as he rose from the rocker to approach her, but she stiffened and stepped away. “Be realistic. If you can’t find a fulltime teaching job, do what you can with your education. There are other fields. Sometimes we have to compromise. Can you type?”

  “No. Can you?” Hurt and insulted, struggling to hold back tears, Melissa headed for the kitchen. Lately she’d had a hard time feeling successful anyway. He didn’t have to make her feel worse.

  Rafe followed her, but when he tried to touch her, she whirled on him.

  “I’m doing the best I can, Rafe. I’ve told you that before. And I happen to love my library job.”

  “Are you sure you don’t love the freedom you have…from responsibility?”

  “I am responsible!” she cried. “I’d be happy to have a fulltime position.”

  “Are you sure you don’t enjoy taking these goofy jobs? Never knowing what surprises might come up next?”

  Melissa glared at him furiously. “My ‘goofy jobs’ are none of your damn business!”

  He scowled. “They ought to be somebody’s business. I realize your family’s not here to—”

  “My family?” she sputtered. “What are you trying to do—play daddy? I have one father, Rafe Damon. I certainly don’t need a second one.”

  “Your father?” He reddened and his dark eyes snapped. “Now that was a childish statement. I’m only trying to give you good advice!”

  “Well, I don’t appreciate your advice!” she cried as they stood glowering at each other.

  “Fine. Maybe you don’t appreciate me, either. Maybe I should leave.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  Before he could say anything else, she took his coat from the nearby counter and shoved it at him. Turning on his heel, he slammed out the door, making its wooden panels reverberate behind him.

  Melissa jumped when the loose rod of the police lock crashed to the floor, barely missing her foot. Cursing as she put the lock back together, she managed to choke out, “And Merry Christmas to you, too, Rafe Damon!”

  Chapter Six

  “Santa, you better be good tonight. None of that foolin’ around like you used to do before the pink sugarplum fairy here straightened you out,” Arlene said, jerking a thumb in Melissa’s direction. “You got some serious work to do after midnight.”

  “Your admonishment strikes me to the quick, Arlene. I’m a reformed man, remember? Now if you’re good, you might get what you want for Christmas. Ho-ho-ho!”

  Arlene smacked Clarence’s pillowed paunch affectionately before heading for the women’s dressing room. “I’m always good! Ask my boyfriend, Bill,” she saucily added. “He’ll make sure I get what I want! Merry Christmas, now.”

  “Merry Christmas!” When Clarence turned to Melissa, his expression sobered. “I’m sorry to say I can’t think of a thing that will help make your Christmas wishes come true, my girl. Finding a fulltime teaching job can be a problem, but I did so hope the thing with Rafe would fulfill one of your requests.”

  Melissa remembered making the wishes for romance and financial stability which Clarence jokingly had granted her after she’d helped save his job.

  “But Terry’s told me that hardheaded photographer still hasn’t called and begged your forgiveness,” he grumbled.

  Wishing Terry hadn’t said anything to Clarence about her disagreement with Rafe, Melissa smiled bravely while trying to block a pair of dark bedroom eyes from her memory. “Oh, it’ll all work out for the best.”

  When Clarence frowned down at her, she knew she hadn’t fooled him. “Nevertheless, I happen to have a small thank-you tucked away in my pocket.” He pulled out a tiny package. “Something to remind you of your naughty Santa.”

  “Oh, Clarence, I’d never forget you!” Melissa opened the green and red wrapping and revealed a miniature pink fairy on a gold cord. “Oh!”

  “An ornament for your tree.”

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” Melissa hugged the older man and quickly released him. “I’ve got to change.”

  “Of course. Merry Christmas, Melissa.”

  “You, too, Clarence.”

  She couldn’t make herself say the words “Merry Christmas” any more than she could admit she had no tree on which to hang the beautiful little ornament. She couldn’t say Rafe had promised to help her pick one out and get it up to her apartment Sunday evening, nor that they’d planned to decorate it on Christmas Eve, tonight, but they’d fought instead and now Melissa didn’t have the heart to buy a tree, let alone trim it by herself.

  Trying to swallow the lump that had been lodged in her throat since Sunday night, Melissa entered the dressing room and changed into her street clothes while trying to ignore the growing air of festivity around her. Christmas was here, impossible to ignore no matter how hard she tried. Christmas carols were piped throughout the store, and cheerful holiday greetings echoed off the metal lockers.

  “You’d better hurry, girl. There’s hardly more than an hour left to finish your Christmas shopping!”

  Arlene’s excited words cut through her thoughts and Melissa realized she’d been staring blindly at her sparkling pink costume. “Oh, you’re right,” she said, not wanting to admit that she had nothing to purchase. “I was just thinking about how much I was going to miss everyone. Especially you.”

  “Hey, now don’t get all sentimental on me. I live in uptown Manhattan, not upstate New York.”

  “Right.”

  Quickly, Melissa hung up the dress, carefully folded the wings, then encased it in a protective plastic covering. She wished
she could leave the costume behind—one less reminder of the holiday she wouldn’t be celebrating, one less reminder of Rafe and how she’d met him pretending to be the tooth fairy. But that would be foolish, a waste of the hard-earned money she’d paid for it.

  Perhaps she could sell it to one of the secondhand clothing shops she enjoyed poking through. She could use the money. But remembering Rafe’s first kiss, the way he’d crushed her wings, and the way her rhinestone tiara had spilled onto his darkly handsome brow, Melissa knew she’d never part with the costume.

  “Merry Christmas, girl.” Arlene hugged Melissa and headed for the door with a warning. “Don’t eat too many sugarplums tonight!”

  Melissa had to grin at the other woman’s teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Actually, she wasn’t sure what she was going to eat that night. “And call me like you promised.”

  “I’ll call.”

  Melissa hoped Arlene would. It was much more difficult to make friends in a big city like New York than it was in her small hometown. She’d miss the black woman’s sense of humor and high spirits, which never seemed to flag. Right now she could use large doses of both positive qualities herself. Gathering her things, she said her last goodbyes to the other women she’d worked with before leaving the dressing room.

  Her brows drawn, her mouth tense, Melissa struggled through the still-crowded store. Just before she reached the revolving doors she was surprised to hear the familiar voice of her boss, Huxley Benton.

  “Hmm. I can tell you’re not in a party mood tonight.”

  “Is it that obvious?” Melissa asked, pausing next to the cosmetics counter where he stood.

  “I’m afraid so. But I have to admit it’s nice to see someone without a big dose of disgusting Christmas cheer written all over them. These holidays wear me out.”

  Glancing at the wry expression on his handsome face, Melissa wondered if Hux was really as cynical as he seemed to be—or had he raised a defensive shield because he, too, was spending the holiday alone? She wasn’t about to ask. Instead, she took the opportunity to broach the topic of future employment.

  “Say, Hux, remember those test shots you wanted?”

  “How could I forget? They were terrific. You really have some kind of magic, kid. I’ve presented a few new promotion ideas to the other execs. Don’t worry, I have you in mind. Budgeting decisions will be made in a few weeks, after all this holiday folderol is over. I promise I’ll let you know the minute the idea’s approved.”

  “No problem.” Backing away toward the door, Melissa smiled to hide her disappointment that the news was not more definite. “You’ve got my number. It’s best if you call me mornings.”

  “Right. Or I’ll pass the message through Rafe. By the way, you two have a good one.”

  Wondering if she should tell Hux she and Rafe wouldn’t be spending the holiday together, she realized he was already distracted by a willowy redhead inspecting the cosmetics counter. He murmured something about taking her to a wild party after the store closed. Perhaps she’d been correct about Hux’s having no one with whom to spend the holiday. Melissa quickly headed out of Haldan-Northrop and onto Fifth Avenue.

  Even though it was scarcely an hour before the stores closed, people were busy with last-minute Christmas shopping. Arms loaded high with packages, they hurried down the street and jostled each other for space on overcrowded busses. One pedestrian ran into her, almost knocking her over while rushing to the curb to flag down an empty taxi. The woman didn’t even stop to see if Melissa was all right.

  Melissa thought of her own family and home. Were the Pennsylvania mountains already blanketed with snow? Manhattan had been overcast all day, gloomy with the threat of snow which had not yet fallen. Would New York have a white Christmas? All that remained of the previous week’s snowfall were dwindling piles scattered here and there, heavily encrusted with the gray soot of the city.

  Melissa couldn’t help it if her thoughts were equally gray: she needed a job, but more than that, she needed Rafe.

  The subway ride was more boisterous than usual. Ignoring the good cheer, Melissa quietly kept to herself, banishing thoughts of Rafe and thinking instead of her family. She wondered if her parents and brothers had received the package of presents she’d sent more than a week ago. Maybe she’d call them when she got home. That might help pick up her spirits.

  But upon entering the vestibule of her building she had yet another disappointment awaiting her, a letter from her ex-roommate, who still had title to the lease on the apartment.

  Melissa read the letter as she climbed the six flights of stairs. By the time she got to her landing she was fighting tears. Returning to New York in the spring, Julie and her husband planned to move into the apartment. Melissa would understand. And since she had until April 1, there’d be no problem with her finding another apartment for herself, right?

  A few straggling tears rolled down Melissa’s cheeks as she unlocked her door and turned on the kitchen light. Dragging her feet over the worn linoleum, she made her way to the bedroom and hung up her costume, after which she found a box of tissues, then sniffled and blew her way into the front room.

  The only reason she could afford this apartment was because it was still rent controlled. Another place in the neighborhood would rent for three or four times the amount. And since she hadn’t found other work to replace her job at Haldan-Northrop, she now earned only the modest income from the reading program.

  Dropping her jacket on the floor, Melissa picked up the wrapped present she’d bought for Rafe and hugged it to her chest. Still in the dark, she sank into her rocking chair and stared out the window, allowing the collected misery of the past few days free reign. She sobbed out loud. Melissa had thought she’d been miserable last Christmas when she’d had the flu and had to remain huddled under her electric blanket after the furnace conked out, but this was going to be the worst Christmas ever!

  No secure job.

  No apartment.

  No Rafe.

  What was she going to do?

  Heaving a large sigh and wiping her eyes with a tissue, Melissa stared out into the night at the Empire State Building. For years it had been the tallest building in the world, the beacon of the city of dreams. What had happened to her dreams? Melissa wondered. As if to taunt her, the view from her sixth-floor apartment subtly changed as the lights of the Art Deco tower were veiled by a translucent curtain and she realized it was going to be a white Christmas after all.

  Mesmerized by the large white flakes, Melissa remembered the first time Rafe had climbed the six flights to her apartment. It had snowed that night too. He’d kissed her and she’d imagined them drifting high above the city, gliding through the night sky like snowflakes—

  A loud banging noise from the kitchen startled her. Someone was at the door, obviously determined to get in. Who could it be?

  “Rafe?” Her heart beating with excitement, Melissa scrambled to her feet while wiping her eyes. Had Rafe really decided to patch things up? Would this be a wonderful Christmas after all? Still clutching his present, she raced through the dark to the kitchen, already counting the hours they would share together and imagining the ways they would make up for their harsh words to each other. At the repeated knock she yelled, “I’m coming!” But, about to open the door, her big-city caution made Melissa pause before releasing the lock. “Who’s there?”

  “Why, it’s Santa Claus and his favorite elf, my girl. Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!”

  It wasn’t Rafe. Hoping they wouldn’t read the disappointment on her face, Melissa opened the door for her friends. Her eyes grew wide—they were both still in costume. Had they taken the subway home dressed like that?

  “Merry Christmas, Melissa.” Terry looked at the package she was still holding. “A present for me?”

  Melissa jiggled Rafe’s present nervously and set it down on the boards over the bathtub. “I—I thought you were someone else.”

  “We weren’t sure if you
had plans, so we decided to invite you to dinner,” Terry said, pointing to the larger of the two paper bags Clarence held. “It’s Chinese. We even got turkey fried rice to celebrate the season.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think—”

  “Having a pretty female dinner companion would certainly cheer up a poor old overworked Santa,” Clarence grumbled, then checked her reaction from beneath his white brows.

  “And Santa doesn’t look like he’s the only one who needs cheering up,” Terry added.

  Knowing they couldn’t miss her red nose or swollen eyes, Melissa responded with a quivering smile. “You’re both sweet, but I wouldn’t want to ruin your holiday.”

  “Nonsense, my girl, nonsense. Now, are you going to let us in before this food gets cold?”

  Hesitating only a second—for even in her misery, Melissa didn’t want to be alone—she agreed. “Maybe we can make our own Christmas cheer.”

  “Smashing idea. I have all the ingredients.” Clarence set the bags down and emptied the smaller one, pulling out red wine, aquavit, an orange, a lemon, cinnamon sticks, and other spices. “The secret for magical glogg has been passed down through my family for generations.”

  Clarence went to work preparing the glogg while Melissa and Terry set the card table in the front room.

  “Where’s your Christmas tree?” Terry asked.

  “Rafe was going to help me pick one out. I got the ornaments out and everything,” Melissa said, pointing to a box.

  She made a centerpiece by crowding together a dozen candles of varying sizes. When she lit them and the others on the shelves, the room glowed cozily. Then Terry tuned into a radio station playing Christmas music.

  “Appropriately festive,” Clarence declared, sauntering in from the kitchen. “But aren’t you going to change?”