Mike’s hands were shaking severely as he studied the picture. “This...uh...this sailboat here in the background looks like the one I carved out of wood just last week.”
Charley let out a tiny gasp as she caught Jack’s eye.
“Bill loved making miniature train displays. Allison and I both worked, so Jack would go over to his place after school and help him with his projects.” His dad handed him one last picture. “This is Bill’s train display that won an award in Chicago twenty years ago. That’s Bill in front of the display.”
Mike’s eyes misted over. “Bill looks so much like a younger me.”
“Yes, he does.”
Mike wiped away his watery eyes. “Where...where is Bill now?”
His dad’s voice cracked. “I think he’s sitting right in front of me.”
Tears splashed Mike’s cheeks. “I’m Bill? I’m Bill Brody?”
Jack’s dad nodded, his eyes welling with tears.
Mike mopped off his face with his sleeve, only the tears kept coming. “I’m Bill.” And this time when he looked into Jack’s dad’s eyes, he finally recognized his long-lost older brother. “Mikey?”
Jack’s dad nodded. “Little brother.”
Both men got up and gave each other a tightly held embrace. When they finally pulled back, they were smiling.
“I’m remembering things,” Mike said, who at last was Bill Brody. “This is unbelievable.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Mikey, I just remembered how you and I would always watch football with Dad.”
“We did,” Jack’s dad said with a laugh.
Uncle Bill turned to Jack’s mom and gave her a big hug. She was already blubbering, overjoyed with their reunion. “Allison, you make the best pigs in a blanket, and a killer apple pie.”
“You loved them both.” She patted his hand.
He then turned to Jack, who wasn’t doing a good job of keeping it together, either. “What you’ve done for me today—” His uncle Bill grabbed him and held him tight. “Jack, I remember you now as a little boy.” He stepped back and looked him in the eye. “You were always so eager to learn what I did.”
Even though tears were streaming down Jack’s face, he couldn’t stop smiling. “I was, but I never had the patience. I never had your talent.”
“That’s not true. Being good at something takes time—”
“—and there’s always tomorrow.” Both he and his uncle finished the phrase together.
“You were the best teacher,” Jack said, remembering, his heart full.
Uncle Bill glanced at Charley. “You’ve got a really good guy here.”
“Yes, I do,” she said proudly.
Uncle Bill studied his family in front of him. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to remember you. After six months of trying, my doctors informed me that the amnesia was most likely permanent.”
“Jack told us what happened to you,” his mom said. “We had no idea you went to New York. We called your work, scoured all the Chicago hospitals, and filed a missing-persons report with the local police. Had we known you were in New York...” She started crying again.
Uncle Bill put his arm around her. “Thank you for trying to find me.”
“There are so many John and Jane Does who walk among us,” Jack said. “Do you remember why you were there?”
His uncle thought about it, then slowly nodded. “A job interview. A very rich, eccentric guy saw my work at the Chicago Expo and wanted me to build a similar display for his son’s birthday in March. I didn’t tell anyone because I had planned on buying everyone’s gifts in New York, and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Jack, I had just purchased your gifts from FAO Schwarz when I crossed the street and got hit by a car.”
“Oh, Uncle Bill.” Jack clasped him on the shoulder as tears ran down his face, and he couldn’t seem to make them stop.
His dad stepped in. “Jack became a detective because he was certain you were still out there.”
“And you said you didn’t have patience,” Uncle Bill said, which finally spurred on much-needed laughter. He then glanced at his brother. “Do you still live in Chicago?”
“No. We live right outside Denver now, about ninety minutes away.”
“Jack called us yesterday,” his mom said. “We arrived this morning, so we’re here for another week.”
“That’s terrific.” Mike clapped his hands. “I want to hear about everything.”
“You will.” His mom gave him a hug as Mary and Joe joined them.
“I’m judging by all the smiles and tears that Mike is Bill again.” Mary’s gaze bounced around the group.
“How did you know?” his uncle asked.
“We didn’t,” Mary said, “but Jack filled us in.”
“And then we might have filled in everyone here,” Joe confessed.
“What?” His uncle looked a little pale as he noted how everyone was staring at him.
“We’ve all known about your spotty memory,” Joe told him. “A few of our young techie teens tried to find you online but didn’t get very far.”
“Everyone came here today to support you, no matter the outcome,” Mary said. “So, Mike-now-Bill, can I break the good news to them?”
Uncle Bill looked a little confused. “Uh...okay.”
Mary turned to the rest of her guests. “He remembers!” Everyone cheered. “Mike’s real name is Bill Brody and this is his brother, Michael, his sister-in-law, Allison, and just about everyone knows his nephew, Jack. Come say hello.”
His uncle was suddenly surrounded by all the guests.
“We’ve been rooting for you, Bill,” Rebecca said. “We’ve been hoping you’d be able to remember who you were.”
“This calls for a celebration.” Charley raised her mug of hot cider. “To Bill!”
Everyone echoed Charley as Jack put his arm around his long-lost uncle. “Welcome home.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Charley woke the next morning feeling a little hungover from having experienced such an emotional day. Reuniting with Jack and then being part of his family reuniting with Bill after twenty years was truly miraculous. She now understood why so many people could attest to life-changing experiences in St. Nicholas.
She got out of bed, said hello to Arthur, then opened the curtains. “Oh!” She was in awe of the stunning view out her window. With several inches of freshly fallen snow, she couldn’t believe the pristine winter wonderland before her was real. Every pine tree had been dusted with glistening white powder; every bit of land was blanketed in a rich, velvety, winter white. She grabbed her phone and snapped some pictures. She had to take a moment to share such breathtaking beauty with the world.
After she logged on to her blog, she scanned the comments her readers left about the elf. The existence of elves had become a full-blown, passionate debate.
Her fingers paused over her keyboard as she stared out her window for inspiration, then began typing:
Morning Everyone!
I thought you might like to see the winter wonderland that’s right outside my window. Isn’t it gorgeous? St. Nicholas, Colorado, is inspirational, magical, and a definite must-see.
Speaking of magical, I love the debate going on about the elf. Does he exist? Is the Scrooge Legend real? I used to believe that something couldn’t exist unless there was concrete evidence that it did. But I’m here to debunk my archaic way of thinking. I was sent to St. Nicholas as a Scrooge, and I’ll be leaving loving Christmas as much as Santa. So, yes, for me the Scrooge Legend is very real.
I want all of you to know that I was wrong to advise skipping Christmas. We are blessed to have such a wonderful holiday because it forces us to step out of the daily, sometimes chaotic, grind and focus on what truly matters: family, friends, community. Can the days leading up to Christmas be a little hectic? Absolu
tely. But it’s worth it. So, please, take my new and unwavering advice: Embrace Christmas with your whole heart. I promise you’ll cherish the memories for years to come.
And one more thing, have yourself a very Merry Christmas!
Charley posted it to her blog and sat back smiling. She glanced out the window, taking in the scenery. Sadly, she only had one more full day in St. Nicholas—in its peace and serenity, which made her feel so alive. She never thought she’d enjoy spending time in a snowy small mountain town. Now she didn’t want to leave. Did this mean she could move out of LA, the place she had lived her entire life? She took a deep breath, wondering what Denver was like. It wasn’t as big as LA but certainly not as small as St. Nicholas. Could it be just right?
She picked up her phone to text Jack, then realized he might still be sleeping. They had talked with Bill well after the party ended. When she had finally called it quits, it was one in the morning, and the Brodys looked nowhere near wrapping it up.
The thought of taking a morning walk in the snow suddenly seemed very appealing. She got dressed and hurried downstairs. As she headed for the front door, Mary called out to her. “Good morning!”
Charley entered the dining room where the Carrolls were finishing breakfast with Jack and his parents. “Morning.”
“We saved a seat for you.” Jack patted the empty chair next to him as Mary rose from the table to pour her a cup of tea.
“Thank you.” She slid in next to him, and he immediately found her hand under the table. “I can’t believe you all beat me down here. What time did Bill leave?”
“Not until two,” Allison said with a yawn.
“That was one amazing day,” Charley said.
“One I thought I’d never see.” Michael gave Jack a grateful look. “Thank you, son.”
“I can’t take all the credit. This town had a lot to do with it.” He glanced at Charley. “And speaking of which, Mary and Joe were about to tell us about the very first account of Santa’s mailbox.”
“What?” She gasped with excitement.
“Before we do that—” Mary held up her hand “—let me get Charley something to eat. Are scrambled eggs, bacon, and cinnamon raisin bread all right with you?”
“Sounds perfect. Thank you.” After Mary headed into the kitchen, Charley turned toward the family she already felt so comfortable around. “Did you see the gorgeous snow outside?”
“It’s quite spectacular.” Allison added lemon to her tea. “I never get tired of seeing the massive blanket of white after a heavy snowfall.”
“That’s because you don’t have to shovel it,” Joe said, which brought on a burst of laughter. “I bet we got eight inches of the white stuff, which is nothing for our little town. All the stores will be open, guaranteed.”
“You just said the magic words for my wife,” Michael said. “Stores and open.”
“Very funny.” Allison rolled her eyes. “You should be happy I like to shop, otherwise, you’d be getting nothing in your Christmas stocking.”
“I’ll go with you, Mom,” Jack said. “I need to get a little shopping done myself.” He squeezed Charley’s hand.
“I haven’t exactly done mine, either,” Michael confessed.
“It looks like a family outing is in the works.” Joe drained the rest of his coffee as Mary came back in with Charley’s breakfast and set it before her.
“Now, what else do you need?” Mary asked, looking over the table.
“Nothing. This looks delicious. Please, sit down so we can hear about the mailbox.”
“All right, dear.” Mary topped off Jack’s coffee, poured more for Joe, then made herself a fresh cup before sitting down. “The story I’ll be telling you is about Santa’s mailbox before the Scrooge Legend.”
Charley and Jack shared an equally surprised look.
Mary poured milk and sugar in her coffee, gave it a stir, and sat back. “Santa’s mailbox was here well before this town ever existed. The year was 1925, to be exact.”
“Wait? You’re saying there was a mailbox sitting in the middle of nowhere?” Jack asked, already skeptical of the story.
“Yes. On December 24, 1925, a small group of weary travelers were trying to make it home for Christmas, but one of their trucks broke down, and they got stuck out in the elements with no town in sight. With cold temperatures dropping quickly, they needed to set up temporary shelter for the night. That’s when they came across the mailbox. Nothing else was around for miles. They didn’t know what to think of it, so they built a fire and camped out right next to it. Realizing they’d never get home in time for Christmas, they decided to write letters to their loved ones. They wrote down their Christmas wishes for them, then dropped the letters inside the mailbox.”
“But why would they do that if they knew their letters wouldn’t get delivered?” Jack asked.
“Why do people toss coins in fountains or rub lucky statues? They did it because it was there. When the travelers finally made it home, they learned, to their great surprise, that all the letters had arrived on Christmas Day—a true Christmas miracle.”
Mary paused for a moment to take a sip of coffee. “Soon their story was told to the papers, and word got out about the mysterious mailbox. Curiosity had people going out of their way to see it for themselves. Many would deposit letters intended for a loved one with no postage and sometimes not even an address—and all the pieces of mail got delivered.”
“Every one of them, including business correspondence?” Charley asked.
“No, only heartfelt messages were received. The messages could be in the form of a letter, or a postcard, or even a short message scribbled on a piece of paper—it didn’t matter. Love just needed to be the intention behind the message.”
“Is there any proof that this happened?” Jack asked with skepticism still in his voice.
“Absolutely. Our library has a few of the original letters and newspaper articles on display.”
“We’ve got to check them out,” Charley whispered to Jack, realizing she’d never made it over there.
“Who delivered the messages?” Michael asked.
“Unknown. Which fueled curiosity even more. Families started coming from all over to find the mailbox. With so many people making the journey, a town with food and lodging sprang up around the mailbox. Heartfelt messages were deposited in it all year round, but the biggest delivery day was always on Christmas.”
“Is that why they call it Santa’s mailbox?” Allison asked.
“Yes, and that’s why the town is called St. Nicholas.”
“All those lives touched by one mailbox,” Allison marveled. “That’s a beautiful story.”
“When did Santa’s mailbox begin accepting Scrooge suggestions?” Jack asked.
“I don’t know, exactly,” Mary said, “but the mailbox became a way to send a Christmas blessing to someone who had lost their Christmas spirit.”
“And the Scrooge Legend was born,” Joe added.
“Incredible.” Charley took out her phone and made some quick notes.
“Thank you for sharing that with us,” Allison said. “This town is becoming more special by the minute.”
“My pleasure.” Mary rose and picked up the plates. “Now, all of you had better get going if you want to experience this glorious day.”
“And don’t forget about tonight.” Joe got up with his dirty dishes in hand. “The mayor will be announcing the winner of the home decoration contest at four o’clock in the town square.”
“There’s no way we’ll be missing that.” Jack pushed back his chair.
“See you then,” Michael said to his hosts as they disappeared into the kitchen. “I want to get some pictures of us outside and also by the Christmas tree.”
Jack waited for Charley, but she wasn’t getting up from the table. “Ready?”
“Where are my manners?” Allison came back to the table. “I’ll help.”
“No need.” Charley waved her away. “I got this. You guys go get some great pictures.”
“All right, we’ll see you soon.”
Jack gave her a curious look. “You know you’re more than welcome to be in our family pictures.”
“I know. I just want to help Mary. That’s all.”
“Okay. We’ll be out front if you change your mind.” He gave her a kiss on the top of her head and followed his family out.
Charley ate the last bite of her raisin bread before taking her dishes into the kitchen. Joe was on his way out the door, but Mary was at the sink rinsing plates and loading them into the dishwasher.
“Here’s the last of them.” Charley set the dirty dishes by the sink.
“You don’t need to be doing that,” Mary scolded. “Shouldn’t you be out taking pictures with the Brodys?”
“It should be a family thing, which I’m not.”
“Yet. It’s only a matter of time.”
Mary could actually be right. In less than a week, her entire life had changed. “I want to thank you for everything—especially the insightful talk you gave me the other night.”
“I’m glad I was able to help,” Mary said. “How does it feel to have the Christmas spirit again?”
“Amazing.” She bubbled with a soft laugh. “I didn’t think I could be this happy.”
Mary turned off the water and dried her hands. “Charley, there is one thing I haven’t told you about the Scrooge Legend.”
“Oh?” Charley couldn’t miss the serious look on Mary’s face as she motioned her to have a seat on one of the barstools.
“There’s one requirement Joe and I couldn’t tell you about earlier, but now that you’re no longer a Scrooge, I can.”
Charley’s heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”
“Now that you have the Christmas spirit back, you must share it.”
Colorado Christmas Magic Page 25
