Unforgettable Christmas Dreams: Gifts of Joy

by Rebecca York

  “I like what I do—best plus is that I can do it from anywhere and be with you as long as you need. I have to host an event in Malibu on New Year’s Eve, but Jonas will be home, so you won’t be alone. I’ll return the next day or so.” She didn’t even have real plants to water and the thought made her sad. “Are you going to have Mom here for junior’s birth?”

  “Are you insane?” Tiffany crossed her arms over her belly. “Don’t you remember the time I smashed my finger in the door?”

  “That was a bloody mess.” Back screen door had been metal and slammed closed in the wind, catching the tip of Tiff’s finger. It had scared the crap out of her, seeing her sister in all that pain. They’d been ten and eight.

  “You had to put the bandage on--Mom faints at the sight of blood and that’s the last thing I need. She can stay in Texas and we’ll send pics—you’re good at that. No, I want you there, sis.”

  “Uh, sure…” What exactly did that entail? She could pack the baby bag, drive to the hospital, or take care of the pets.

  “In the delivery room,” Tiff insisted.

  Oh. When she’d agreed to help, Serenity hadn’t thought beyond walking the dogs and being here for moral support. She conjured an image of Tiff screaming while pushing something covered by a sheet from her body and swallowed a sigh. “Are you sure?”

  Eyes big and round, Tiff gave another nod. “You have to. I need you.”

  Serenity couldn’t turn her down, which meant she had some Googling to do. “Okay.”

  “If I know I can have you there, then I won’t worry about Jonas being gone. He’s supposed to be back by Christmas, but he has a series of interviews, so we don’t know for sure. It could take over a week, depending on how far he gets.” Tiffany sat on the edge of her bed, the mattress dipping with her weight. Glitz jumped up to put her furry head in Tiff’s lap, while Glamour leaned against Tiffany’s legs.

  There was something to be said for the unconditional love of a dog.

  Someday…maybe.

  “So,” Tiff drawled, “since I’m asking for favors, I have one more.”

  “Oh?” Serenity clicked a picture of her sister and the pups.

  Tiff held up her hand. “Please, not now. I look like a cow.”

  “You do not!” Her sister was beautiful in a new way.

  “The town’s parade is Saturday, December 17th.”

  “In two days?” Serenity checked the calendar just to be sure. “Swear to me that you didn’t volunteer to make cookies or something, because you know I can’t bake. You’ve turned into this domestic goddess, but I still burn water.” She lived off gourmet food delivery, so she didn’t have to cook.

  Tiff laughed. “No, no. It’s easy actually. Glitz and Glamour have spent the last three Christmases riding the firetruck with Santa—they’re so cute with red bows and antlers, and I’m usually an elf, tossing out candy to the kids.”

  “You will be adorable!” Her sister was the perfect elf size. Then again, she probably shouldn’t be climbing a firetruck ladder, not even for a fat jolly Santa or a parade of joyful children.

  Tiff tilted her head, and Glitz whined. “So…”

  “What?” The hair on the back of her neck rose.

  “If I’m not feeling well, will you do it? The doctors don’t want me to push myself.”

  Understandable. Her sister rarely asked for anything, but it was like she’d been saving up favors for the last decade to use all at once.

  “All right. Sure.” Serenity crossed her arms. “Maybe you should just cancel, anyway.”

  “I can’t. The dogs are famous,” Tiff said proudly. “They’ve had their picture in the paper for two years running.”

  Hmm. That got her thinking. “Should they have their own Instagram feed? I could set it up and monitor it for you.”

  “No, no. You’re already attached 24/7.” Tiff pointed to the phone in Serenity’s hand. “Just take pictures of them to share on your account.”

  Serenity took that as the cue to shoot and stepped back, framing her sister, and the dogs, perfectly. “You can’t be any cuter.” She showed Tiff the picture—unlike Ryker, she didn’t mind smiling. “This will get a lot of likes, just wait.”

  “Sit next to me,” Tiff said, “and use your long arms to get all of us. You realize I haven’t set eyes on you since my birthday in April? I miss you, Serenity.”

  “I’m really happy to be here, Tiff.” She did as instructed, then kissed her sis on the cheek. Maybe she hadn’t been as good about the family thing as she could have been, and she made a mental promise to do better.

  By mutual agreement, they didn’t bring up their mother. “Do you want to go to the beach? I could get some terrific pictures of you and your star dogs.”

  Her followers already raved over her pregnant sister and the Dalmatians.

  “Tomorrow,” Tiff said, rubbing her extended tummy as she lay back on her bed. “Right now, I need a nap. Oh, did I mention that Ryker usually plays Santa?”

  “What?”

  ***

  That afternoon, Ryker hauled the two-inch wooden trim he’d bought for the kitchen to the front patio of his two-story condo. It had needed serious renovating, but it was on the beach and he’d gotten it for a song. He loved the old Florida vibe: the cement, limestone, and coquina shells.

  And because repurposing what could be salvaged was important to him, he didn’t mind putting in the elbow grease to create something unique.

  Sanding and priming, then painting the pieces a pale blue was cathartic after his rough morning. Serenity wasn’t the girl he’d set up on a pedestal as the gold standard—he’d put her business card on the yellow laminate counter and did his best to leave the past where it belonged.

  The first coat of trim finished, he took a break and called his brother, Toby. “Hey.”

  “Hi—please tell me you picked up the TV Mom bought, and have it hidden away. She’s driving us all crazy—no wonder Dad always figures out his gifts—she can’t stop talking about keeping it secret.”

  Ryker leaned his hip against the kitchen counter which he planned on ripping out tomorrow to exchange with granite. His gaze landed on Serenity’s business card. “Tell her I have it in the back room—Dad won’t see it till Christmas Eve.” That’s when their family opened gifts.

  His parents had been married forty years and to him made marriage look easy. He wanted a true partnership like they had. To find his other half that worked in perfect sync—he’d once thought it had been Serenity. Stupid, at eighteen.

  “You’ll never guess who I ran into today—saved her from doing a face-plant on the sidewalk, tangled up in dog leashes.” His hands burned at the sensual memory of holding her even so briefly.

  “Who?”

  “Serenity Perez.”

  Rather than laugh or reminisce, Toby sucked in a breath. “Shit, man. So, what did you do?”

  Toby had gone to the same college as him and had witnessed Ryker’s spiral into self-pity over sending her away. Partying too hard to forget the one girl he never would. Once he’d accepted that, he was able to put her in a mental box and move on. Until today. “She was walking dogs for her sister Tiffany,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know—she’s got that business. So?”

  “She’s changed—she even has fake eyelashes.”

  “Fake what?”

  “Yeah.” Ryker took a beer from the fridge, popped the top, and set the cap on the counter to add to his jar of them later. Serenity smiled up at him from her hot pink card. He wandered out to his front patio to sit on an overturned crate he was using as a chair until he bought furniture and watched the white-crested blue waves curl toward shore.

  “Is she still hot?” Toby gave another swift intake of breath, then asked, “She didn’t move back, did she?”

  “Toby—relax. I’m fine. We had coffee.” Which had been a disaster. “She isn’t the same person at all.”

  “Well, that’s good ‘cause it would be weird if she didn�
�t grow up. You have, sort of.” His brother snorted. “I still think you only wanted to be a fireman to ride the ATV on the beach.”

  “Maybe, maybe…I think she might’ve had her lips done.” He pictured her pink mouth on the edge of her cup, the perfect bow shape. Would she taste like strawberry?

  “Serenity? No way. Her lips were just fine.”

  Ryker drank his beer, the taste not as refreshing as normal. Teachers and their friends used to joke that he and Serenity were two halves of a whole.

  “I thought so.” He’d kissed them often enough, and then he’d sent her to LA. He hadn’t realized that he would never get to taste those lips again. What an idiot he’d been.

  It had taken all of his persuasion to get her to accept the full scholarship; he’d told her that their love was strong enough to handle a separation. They would see each other on school breaks—but by the end of their freshman year he could tell she was homesick and ready to give up her education. For her own good he broke up with her.

  She’d called and texted so often. His stomach knotted. He’d never answered, but he couldn’t bring himself to block her number. Hurting her, hurt him, and he welcomed the pain. He had elaborate plans on how to win her back—he’d show up at her graduation in a limousine and treat her like a queen.

  Then in junior year he’d run into Tiffany and asked about Serenity—she was furious at him for breaking her sister’s heart and told him to stay away and let Serenity get on with her life. She said Serenity had a new boyfriend and didn’t need him ruining things now.

  All of his plans crashed. He had nobody to blame but himself.

  “You still there, bro?” Toby asked. “Earth to Ryker.”

  “Yeah, I’m here.” He’d assured himself that she would be back, and he’d arrange a way to bump into her, but as the years passed and that didn’t happen…he’d dated other women. Nobody made his hands tingle just from touching them—she still did. He grasped the bottle tight. God, he had to move on. But how?

  “Listen, let’s talk later. I have to put another coat of blue on this trim.”

  “Can’t wait to see it when it’s finished, Ryker. Christmas?”

  He thought of the work left to do and winced at that idea. “I’ll have everyone over. Should be late January, maybe.”

  “Ryker?”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “I’m glad you realize that Serenity is a different person. I have the perfect girl for you to ask out. Her name’s Merina. She’s cute. Work’s at the bike shop downtown.”

  “Just because you are happily dating doesn’t mean I need to be set up.”

  “We could double date.”

  “Bye Toby.”

  “Just think about it.”

  “Fine. Later.” Maybe. How could he date someone when Serenity was the one he couldn’t get out of his head?

  Chapter Four

  Ryker dragged his wagon of supplies to beach access point number five, off Sea Lake. There was a tiny park shaded by mangroves, sea grape, and palm trees. Six turquoise benches faced the ocean. It was a dog-friendly park with trash stations for recyclables as well as garbage. There was a shower head where he rinsed off his tools after the clean-up was over.

  Six-thirty had come early this morning, as his sleep had been trashed by a glitter bomb named Serenity. Social influencer. She was obviously successful at it and he was glad for her that she’d found her niche.

  He smelled coffee and looked up from where he was sorting bags to see Bob carrying two cups of coffee. Ryker hung notices in town hall and the fire station that he would be here on Friday mornings for anybody who wanted to help pick up trash, but usually it was just him and Bob.

  “Morning,” Ryker said. “I need this today. Thanks.”

  “Welcome.” Bob had slicked his longish brown-gray hair back from his forehead and dressed for the walk in a lemon-yellow polo and Tommy Bahama fitted shorts. He had a sunhat in beige, and sunglasses tucked at the throat of his polo shirt for later when the sun rose higher.

  Ryker wore cargo shorts with lots of pockets for any possible treasures and extra bags and gloves. He handed Bob the new gripper that was perfect for digging in the sand dunes for plastic bottles. “As promised.”

  “Nice. So,” Bob said as they started off on their 2.4-mile loop, “I checked out Serenity Perez. She’s a minor celebrity in LA, and touts all things beauty, love, and light.”

  Ryker had also done an internet search on Serenity, when he couldn’t get her out of his head at three this morning. He’d learned all about social influencers. Not everybody was espousing beauty but that seemed to be her thing. She modeled, and had a degree in marketing, according to her bio.

  Unlike him, she was all over social media. There’d been pages and pages of information about her. She gave all sorts of advice about love, but from what he could tell, she didn’t have a “partner” or current relationship.

  Bob sounded like he had a crush. Ryker picked up a plastic water bottle and placed it in the blue bag for recyclables. “So, did she give Fresh Brew the endorsement she promised?”

  “Oh yeah,” Bob nodded. “Said I was especially gifted behind the coffee bar. She posted a few pictures and thanked me for her iced skinny vanilla latte—then she went on a mini-rant about plastic straws versus paper straws, and how paper straws aren’t that great either. Better than plastic, but she says there needs to be a—”

  “Third option?” Ryker filled in—he remembered her comment from yesterday.

  “Yeah—and guess what? Someone said that a few focus groups have come up with biodegradable straws. Bamboo straws or metal were also popular suggestions. It started this whole conversation. It was brilliant.”

  “What are you going to do?” Ryker asked. He’d love to read that thread. “Did it influence you to change your position?”

  “On paper straws?” Bob adjusted his sunhat. “I suppose we could just nix straws entirely, but I don’t know if the paying public is ready for that.” He looked down his nose, both brows raised.

  “We could educate them.” Ryker found another plastic bottle and put it in his bag. No straws might be the easiest way to go. He’d lobbied to make sure the beach had recycle bins as well as trash cans on each access point but for whatever reason, some people didn’t seem to notice their natural surroundings.

  He printed out statistics and hung them in the fire department and made sure to give updated information to the town center. But it was a fine line between being a crusader and being annoying. Toby was usually pretty good at letting him know when he was going too far. He lived on the beach, worked on the beach, and saw the pollution—though it was less than it had been years ago.

  “What made you care so much?” Bob asked. “I mean, I love doing my little part with you, but I wouldn’t have made the effort if you hadn’t been already.”

  Ryker thought back to what had sparked his need to act. “I was on vacation as a kid on the Gulf side of Florida and horrified by all the trash in the water. Swimming in the waves, next to plastic bags,” he shivered, “plastic bottles caught up in the seaweed, and the dunes, but the worst was seeing a sandpiper with a straw in its beak, trying to eat it.”

  Bob scowled. “That’s awful.”

  He recalled how helpless he’d felt, crying to his parents. “So, after I told my parents about seeing that, and how things were so terrible, my mom gave me a beach bag and told me that I might not be able to clean the world but I could do my part and clean this small section.”

  “Brilliant! Was she ever sorry that she created an activist?”

  “Activist?” Ryker shrugged, embarrassed. “I’m not that. My dad said that small actions lead to big results. Big might be a stretch but our beach is pretty damn tidy.” He elbowed Bob, not wanting things to get too serious.

  “Agreed.” Bob bent down and picked up a cigarette butt, which could take up to ten years before it decomposed. “Nasty things.”

  Ryker’s job as a fireman had him disliking cig
arettes for more reasons than just the filters—smoking caused a high percentage of house fires and related deaths. He’d gone to school to be a firefighter but mostly had wanted to patrol this beach in an official capacity—Toby wasn’t wrong about that. “I asked the chief about getting an ashcan for the parks along the beach, made specifically for folks to toss their butts.”

  “That’s clever.” Bob put the filter in his trash bag. “What did he say?”

  “Put it on the list,” Ryker laughed sardonically. “Right after the plastic clean-up nets, I’d love to get for the ocean. They’re cheaper than one of those plastic cleaning machines. Five million for one of them babies.”

  He’d always been shy, but when it came to discussing the ocean, he spoke to classrooms or businesses with no problem. He liked educating the public and working toward a solution.

  “Five million?” Bob spluttered. “That’s a lot of coffee beans.”

  Now Ryker was on a roll and he could feel his excitement rise. “You have to have something that will collect the plastic while not injuring the sea life. Coral, fish, sea turtles…it’s a big deal. Best thing anybody can do moving forward is reduce our usage of single-use plastics.”

  Bob grinned. “Like straws. And…” he dug out a half-buried plastic water bottle from a dune, “these. What happens to all the lids, I wonder?”

  Ryker’s alarm on his watch went off. “Time to head back. I’ve got work today, and Saturday is the parade downtown. You coming?”

  “Jon and I are planning to make it a date night. Live music, all the different restaurants…we haven’t tried the new taco place yet.” He propped the gripper over his shoulder.

  “Excellent shrimp tacos,” Ryker said. “Make sure to ask for extra pico de gallo.” He patted his flat tummy. “I hope the weather cools a bit for me. I’ll be Santa again, riding on the fire truck. I thought I was going to melt last year.”

  “Still cracks me up, Santa in the subtropics.” Bob glanced at Ryker, then slung his trash bag onto his shoulder, holding the gripper stick. “Are you wishing for anything special from Santa this year?”