Love on Main Street: A Snow Creek Christmas

by Juliet Blackwell

  “Never mind.” She almost grinned. Almost. Enough to send hope—and something earthier—rumbling through his blood.

  The monitors guarding the stage doors waved frantically for Dan and Christy. It was time.

  In two hours, he’d know whether or not trusting in the magic of Christmas was the smartest thing he’d ever done or the dumbest.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As the last notes of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" faded and the fifth-grade boys flashed their coconut bras and swished their grass skirts, Santa surfed onto stage in board shorts and a red coat with the sleeves cut out. The multi-purpose room exploded with applause and hooting, and Dan was pretty sure Butch had sacrificed his primo Santa suit to get in the spirit of the fifth grade’s South Seas Christmas. Santa bellowed for another round of "Rudolph". The audience jumped to their feet and obliged.

  Christy caught his eye and shrugged.

  “Go with it!” he mouthed.

  She cocked her head, not understanding. He beckoned to her, and was surprised when she made her way through the crowd of singing kids to reach his side.

  “What?” She yelled so close in his ear her lips brushed his ear lobe. Mama mia. The shivers that coursed through him did naughty things.

  “Now Frosty!” Santa hollered.

  Christy gave him that ‘what-the-hell?’ look again. This time he put his lips against her ear and repeated, “Go with it!”

  Her eyes grew wide and she lifted on her toes. Ha. Good to know he had the same effect on her.

  As the crowd sang, Piper and Madison materialized beside them. Piper cocked her head and held out her hand. Dan gave her the key to the janitor’s hideaway, and off she went. Two rounds of "Frosty" and four of "Jingle Bells" later, Piper reappeared and gave him a thumbs-up. Santa caught sight of her and nodded. He brought the singing to a halt to great applause and cheers.

  “I have a surprise addition to the holiday show,” he announced. “Sit yourselves down for a special performance by one of Snow Creek Elementary’s most illustrious alumni. Kids, you all sit on the floor in front of the stage. You’ll want to pay close attention.”

  With much anticipation and plenty of whispers, the children quickly descended the stairs to either side of the stage and settled on the floor, guided into neat rows by their teachers. South Sea Santa motioned for Dan and Christy to join them.

  Dan led Christy to a pair of seats in the front row that June had saved for them. Piper snuggled into his lap, Madison into Christy’s.

  “What’s going on?” Christy murmured.

  He tried not to let on that he knew anything. “Let’s watch and see.”

  “Most of the time,” Santa Butch said softly enough to command every ear and eye in the room, “Christmas brings joy and good cheer to everyone. Sometimes, however, the expectation that the magic of Christmas can cure all ills is disappointed. And when that happens—”

  “Elves get headaches,” Piper said in a stage whisper that carried into every corner.

  “Yes, Piper, elves get headaches. But sometimes little girls’ and boys’ hearts get broken. I want to share with you a story about how that happened once right here in Snow Creek.” Santa stepped forward and the curtains closed behind him. “It was a cold, snowy December, not so many years ago by the reckoning of my old age. Most of the grown-ups here were boys and girls then. Those who were young parents are grandparents now. Or would like to be.” Chuckles rumbled through the crowd. “And you kids here in front weren’t even gleams in your parents’ eyes yet.”

  ***

  Dread stiffened Christy’s spine at the words “sometimes little girls’ and boys’ hearts get broken.” She glared at Dan, but he kept his attention doggedly on Santa.

  That didn’t bode well.

  Piper caught her looking and put a small hand on her wrist right above where she held Madison on her lap. She gave Christy two little ‘there, there’ pats and curled her fingers over her forearm. It was the loosest of bracelets, but it kept Christy in her seat.

  “Without further ado, I give you Lost Christmas.” Santa bowed and exited the stage.

  The curtains opened on a darkened set. The lights came up, slowly revealing the living room in Christy’s house thirty years ago—the one where she’d been happy. It was a perfect copy in every detail right down to the rogue’s gallery of her school pictures in shiny silver frames above the piano and the holiday plaid slipcover on the sofa. The table was set with snowy linen and red candles in brass candlesticks. In the center sat a Bûche de Noël that had clearly been made by eight-year-old hands. It was lumpy and lopsided and had a row of crossed candy canes down the middle. Christy had thought the elves would enjoy marching under it, so she could trap them into leaving their footprints in the frosting.

  Her mother remembered.

  Christy clutched Madison for dear life, and Piper’s grip increased. Before she could leave, her parents walked through the door, their arms laden with Christmas presents. They looked exactly as they had the Christmas Eve they’d told her they were splitting up. Make-up erased the years. Her mother’s high-waisted pants and Christmas tree sweater, her father’s forest green turtleneck and grey flannel slacks were inscribed in blood and memory.

  She felt Dan’s attention on her, though his eyes never left the stage.

  He was scared. He should be. He’d gone too far. She was furious. She was embarrassed. Everyone knew who this skit was about. It felt like every eye behind her was stuck to the back of her head. If she ran, they’d think she was not only pathetic, but a coward.

  She was trapped.

  “Mama,” Madison whispered, “I love you. Don’t be scared.”

  Trapped by the people she loved. The people who wanted to fill that big hole she’d been feeling just before the show. The people she kept pushing away.

  Piper leaned up to whisper in her ear. “I love you, too.”

  A knot in her throat threatened to choke her. On stage her father took the packages from her mother’s arms and led her to the sofa. “Kayla, we have to talk. We can’t put it off any longer.” His spoke quietly, but he knew how to project. No one missed the pain in his words.

  Kayla refused to sit. “After Christmas, Jack.”

  “I have to leave in a few days. What are we going to tell Christy?”

  “Not the truth,” Kayla said, and Christy knew her mother hadn’t forgotten a single word from that conversation. “She’s too young to understand. And….”

  Her mother’s tears were real.

  Her dad crouched beside the tree to arrange the presents. “I’d like to tell her the truth.”

  “I can’t,” her mom said through tears.

  “I’m gay, Kay, not a serial killer.”

  Every adult member of the audience and a lot of the kids went on full alert. Christy caught herself with her mouth wide open, her childhood heart up on the stage for all of Snow Creek to see. She held on tight to Madison and covered Piper’s hand with one of her own.

  It helped.

  Her Dad went to his knees in front of her mom and took her hands. “Why shouldn’t we tell her?”

  Her mom started to shake. “Because I feel so stupid,” she managed through her tears. “I didn’t know. Then when I started to think about it, I didn’t want to know. I stuck my head in the sand until both of us were so unhappy you ended up having a heart attack. All I do anymore is cry. I’m ashamed of that.”

  Christy knew this wasn’t what her mom had said that Christmas. This was what Christy had refused to let Kayla tell her during the past week.

  Her dad stood and pulled her mom into his arms. “There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of. I lied to myself for a long time. How could you know something I denied so strongly?”

  “We’ll just say you’ve gone to Los Angeles to follow your acting dream. That’s true enough. I don’t want her to misunderstand. You know how kids can be. And if you come out, it will affect your chances of getting big roles.”

  Jack
stepped back, a hungry expression on his face. Doubt. Temptation. “Do you think it will be enough? Won’t she wonder why you two aren’t coming with me?”

  Kayla didn’t answer right away, and Christy recognized the pivotal moment. “I’ll tell her you’ve had enough of my over the top Christmases. It’s not a complete lie.”

  “Well, sure, but it’s not a reason to leave a family.”

  Christy’s insides congealed.

  “She won’t know that this year, and by next year she’ll be over it. What kid can resist Christmas?” Her mom brushed her tears away with the tips of her fingers. “When she’s a little older, we’ll explain.”

  Except they hadn’t. And Christy had been the one kid in ten thousand who turned on Christmas like it was the Black Death.

  “All right,” her dad said. “But we have to tell her the truth as soon as she’s old enough to understand. By then she’ll know I love her and am still a part of her life. That I’m not leaving her or you, but learning to accept the way I’m made and all the things I care about besides you two.”

  “She will,” her mom said brokenly. “She’ll understand. Everything will be okay. Just not this Christmas.”

  Jack took Kayla’s hand then and they stepped forward into a spotlight as the scene behind them faded from view. “Except it wasn’t just that Christmas. We made a mistake.” He paused to catch Kayla’s eye. “Not only did we ruin Christmas for our daughter, we lied to her because neither of us wanted to face the consequences of being honest. I wanted an acting career, and I didn’t think that would happen if I came out. I might have been right about that, but I sacrificed my daughter’s trust and generous spirit in the process. That feels awful. Wrong. I let Christy think I put my feelings about Christmas over her love and well-being. And that changed her. She remained a wonderful girl, and she became an even more wonderful woman, but she stopped trusting love and the magic of Christmas that each of us needs every day of the year.”

  Her mom took over. “I love my daughter more than anyone in the whole world. I always have and I always will, but I made the most foolish mistakes. I thought it would be easier for Christy to blame me for the divorce because I was with her everyday and could show her in all kinds of ways how much I loved her. The trouble was that I misjudged her reaction. Like Jack, I made a choice that cost my daughter the trust in love that we all need to open our hearts to others. I wish I could go back as we have pretended to tonight. I wish we could have another chance so our little girl could have the childhood we wanted her to.”

  The curtain rose behind them, and they stepped back into darkness. A tiny spotlight lit up center stage, and the little lost elf who had been reunited with Santa during the fifth-grade South Sea Island skit appeared. What had happened to Gavin Crawford, who had been supposed to play the elf? Who was this kid? Christy didn’t recognize him.

  “When Christy was eight-years-old, she lost Christmas like I did this year, but she never found it again. Santa?” he called. “Santa, can you help Christy? You found me in the South Pacific. You have to be able to help her.”

  There was no response. The audience, half of them sniffing discretely, waited with anticipation.

  Nothing happened.

  Christy felt every bit of the grief and confusion she’d felt when her father told her he was leaving them as if it had just happened—which it had, after a fashion. And just like then, there was no one who could fix things now. There was no Santa. There was a guy named Butch in a red suit. No magic. Just an elementary school holiday show skit.

  No one stirred. The elf cupped a hand to one ear and listened expectantly. Then the other ear. His brows knit together. “Santa?”

  The audience waited. When Dan shifted uneasily beside her, she realized he and everyone else thought there was going to be an answer. Santa was going to come back onstage and make everything better.

  She sighed. All she wanted was to get out. Go home. Or to the tiniest sheep station in the Australian Outback where she wouldn’t have to face an entire town full of people who knew her deepest hurts and heartbreaks. Every second waiting for the farce to be over ratcheted up her blood pressure. Her muscles started randomly twitching. Her right leg. Her back. Her fingers. Her feet. It was time to run.

  The elf put his hands on his hips and frowned. “I don’t think Santa can hear me.”

  Several of the younger children gasped.

  “I think there’s only one voice that matters to him right this minute.” Green elf eyes locked with hers.

  No. No, no, no, no, no, no. No!

  The spotlight swiveled, blinding as it came to rest on her.

  “Can you come up on stage, Christy?” the elf asked.

  No. She clung to Madison and Piper. They were all that kept her from bolting.

  There was movement beside her. Dan slid Piper off his lap, and she moved close, wrapping her arms around Christy, plastering herself like a tick to her side.

  The elf came down the stairs on the right side of the stage, the second spotlight following him. Her parents drifted out of the shadows in his wake. Ice ran through Christy’s veins.

  Her parents slipped into suddenly empty seats on either side of her. Dan went down on one knee in front of her and the elf stood beside him, pinning her with a look of such wise compassion her vision clouded.

  “Can you ask Santa to help you find the magic of Christmas again?” he asked softly.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Christy shuddered with the effort to hold back tears of anger, mortification and grief that had festered for twenty-seven years. Her mother put an arm around her right shoulder, and her dad embraced her left. The girls clung to her. Dan and the elf had her blocked in from the front. There was no escape.

  Dan leaned forward and whispered, “Steady. Remember everyone here loves you. The only way out is to ask Santa for help. The sooner you do, the sooner it will all be over.”

  Somehow she found herself clasping his hand in a desperate grip that cemented all of them, her parents, Madison, Dan, Piper and her into one big ball of family. Everything she had ever wanted Christmas Magic to bring into her life was in her hands. So much life. So much joy. So much love. All she had to do was stop fighting it. All she had to do was accept it.

  Was it really that simple? She looked at her mother, who gazed back at her with all the love Christy hadn’t valued for so many years. Kayla had gotten up in front of the whole town and owned mistakes that she regretted. She’d done it for her.

  Christy leaned over to kiss her mom on the cheek. When she pulled back, tears spilled down Kayla’s cheeks again.

  She looked at her dad on the other side. His eyes softened and he nodded once, like he knew what she had to do and knew she could do it. He’d come out publicly tonight. By morning the news would be all over TV and the Internet, and she knew her dad didn’t relish attention focused on his personal life. He’d done it for her.

  Madison was a warm, solid weight in her lap. Christy couldn’t imagine loving her anymore than she already did, yet every day she loved her more. She would do anything to make Madison’s life better.

  At her side, Piper was a vibrant, pulsing presence. Madison wanted to be her sister, and Christy understood why. She was smart and fun, but most of all she was kind. Christy could love her like she did Madison. It would be easy.

  Finally, Christy looked up at Dan. His eyes went beyond twinkling until they glowed. His small, relaxed smile showed hope and love, a love she could see and feel. It enveloped her, the girls, her parents, the elf, and all of Snow Creek, but mostly, right now, her heart beat to the pulse of the love he felt for her.

  This was real. She didn’t need Christmas magic. She had all the magic she would ever need.

  Christy lifted Madison to her feet and stood, gathering the girls close in front of her and not letting go of Dan’s hand. She smiled at the elf. He didn’t look like any of the fifth graders she could remember, and he was too big to be one of the younger kids. But that didn’
t matter now. She smiled at him before she turned to face the audience.

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” she began, “but I don’t need Santa’s help.”

  The elf looked like she’d broken his heart. Not Dan, though. He gave her hand a squeeze.

  “I have all the Christmas magic I need right here beside me. My parents—” She had to stop when her voice broke. “My daughter, Madison. My dear friend, Piper. And,” she glanced up at Dan, “a man I love.”

  Sighs and ahhs rustled through the room, and Christy felt Dan shudder through their linked hands. She squeezed his hand this time. If felt good. Like magic.

  “Besides all this, I have you and everyone else in Snow Creek,” she said to the audience, “and this Christmas will be the best one yet. So with grateful respect to Santa for all the Christmas magic he spreads each year, I’m okay. Merry Christmas, everyone.”

  Applause and cheers broke out. People stood up. The elf wrapped his arms around her middle and hugged her hard before he wiped away his tears.

  Then the multi-purpose room went completely silent again. Christy caught a flash of red up on the stage. Another Santa, this one with the best costume yet—real leather boots, gold wire-rimmed spectacles, and what looked like the densest Christmas red silk velvet imaginable trimmed with real fur—stood on the stage above them all, dabbing his eyes with a white handkerchief the size of a placemat.

  “Santa!” The elf leaped to the stage and transferred his hug to the big guy. Then he reared back. “Who was that other guy?”

  “That was Butch from Auburn,” Dan called.

  “Good old Butch,” the new Santa said with a chuckle.

  The elf frowned. “I thought he was you. That’s a worry.”

  “Not now, Mungo,” Santa said with a wink. He thudded down the stairs and waded through the children, touching heads and cheeks as he made his way to Christy’s side. He was half a head shorter than she was, but he pulled her down and kissed her on the forehead, then wrapped her up in a huge, peppermint and pipe-tobacco-scented hug. Dan let go of her hand so she could hug him back.