The Santa Sleuth

by Heather MacAllister

  So did Amanda's.

  Groaning, Kirk enfolded the little girl in his arms as Amanda looked away. She knew he felt guilty right now. She knew how much he wanted to sell that kooky house. But still.

  "I'm so sorry. You know I wanted to be there, don't you?"

  Virginia nodded. "I understand." Her face pressed to his shoulder. "I love you, Daddy,"

  Way to go, Virginia. Twist that knife.

  Feeling like an intruder, Amanda left the hallway and stood by the Christmas tree. Kirk found her there several minutes later.

  "Virginia?" she asked.

  "Getting ready for bed."

  Amanda exhaled. Virginia was a lot more forgiving than she was.

  "We're going to have an argument now, aren't we?"

  "You betcha."

  "Will it save time if I tell you I feel lousy about missing her pageant?"

  "That's promising."

  "Amanda, I know it looks bad, but will you listen?"

  Taking her silence for assent, he continued, "I finally got a bid on the Rambling Ranch."

  "Congratulations. Where's the champagne?"

  "Still corked."

  Amanda looked at him accusingly. "You mean after all this you didn't get the sale?"

  "Not yet," Kirk said grimly. "The buyers were sitting in my office with their bid--and it's a good one, though not what the sellers wanted. The thing is, the house has lost value and it's been standing empty. The owners haven't seen it in a couple of years and don't know its condition. Anyway, I tried to set up a conference call between them. It just took too long."

  Amanda gazed at the tree, remembering the night they decorated it, remembering feelings she'd shared with Kirk. Wondering how she could be so angry with him now. "So what happened?"

  "The house is owned by two brothers and a sister. The sister wasn't home."

  Amanda glanced over her shoulder, then back at the tree. "Probably at her child's Christmas pageant."

  He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I wasn't there, but this is not the end of the world. Sometimes things don't go the way we want them to. Virginia needs to know that."

  "Oh, she knows it all right."

  "Amanda ... " She could hear the frustration in his voice. Good. "There'll be other pageants."

  "There'll be other houses," she shot back.

  "Not this one. You know what selling this house means to me."

  "And you should've known what that Christmas pageant meant to Virginia. How can you expect her to understand? She's only in the first grade, and the room was loaded with other parents and grandparents. She had a featured part!"

  "She did?" He winced.

  "Yes," Amanda answered. "And she wanted you to be there. It was awful. She looked and looked. It broke my heart."

  "I'm glad you were able to make it." His voice was gruff.

  "Which is something else--what if I hadn't been there? How was she supposed to get home? Mrs. Webster just dropped her off."

  His mouth worked before he admitted, "When I knew I wouldn't be able to get away, I called your office. The message said you'd gone to the school."

  "So you just assumed I'd know to bring her home?" Amanda stared at him in disbelief.

  "I figured you’d realize I wasn’t there and ... " He trailed off at Amanda’s expression.

  What if she hadn't sought out Virginia? The thought of the little girl’s waiting until someone realized she was missing made Amanda feel sick.

  "I shouldn't have done that." Kirk ran his hand over the back of his neck. "All I could think about was that I might finally sell that house."

  "But Kirk, ever since I've known you, you've depended on others to pick up Virginia when you run late, drive her places if you're with a client, or rearrange their schedule at a moment's notice to accommodate you. It's got to stop."

  "I know." He reached for her arm, drawing her toward him. "You can see how much I need you. How much we need you."

  "I don't want to be needed!" she declared, surprising them both. Kirk released her arm. "If you're only looking for somebody to take care of Virginia, then count me out."

  He looked stunned. "I've made no secret of my feelings for you. In fact, I--"

  "Don't." Amanda held up her hand. If he told her he loved her now, she'd never say what had to be said. "I went to that program tonight because I had this awful feeling that you wouldn't be there. You knew I'd go--you were banking on it."

  "I explained what happened." Anger tinged his words.

  "Did it once occur to you that I might have job responsibilities tonight?"

  "Then you shouldn't have gone," he answered reasonably.

  Amanda didn't feel like being reasonable. "Somebody had to. It should have been you."

  "In an ideal world, it would have been." Kirk looked away. "In an ideal world, Virginia would have two parents. But this isn’t an ideal world, so I cope the best I can." Amanda heard the pain in his voice and felt like a heel.

  "I'm sorry. Raising a child must be a tremendous undertaking. I have no idea what it's like."

  There was a deep silence. "That frightens you, doesn't it?" Kirk asked perceptively. "You're becoming more and more involved with us and you're scared."

  She had to make him understand. Understand that she realized how much Virginia needed a mother. And realized that she wasn’t going to be good enough. "I'm not scared, I'm realistic. Once you're no longer a single father, people will expect you to take care of Virginia yourself. And I think that your ... your ... "

  "Wife?"

  Amanda swallowed. "That your wife will end up doing everything."

  He regarded her in the twinkling light of the Christmas tree. "I'd expect my wife to help raise Virginia, yes. I would hope that she'd want to because she cared for her."

  But what about his wife's job? Would it always take second place to Kirk's? Amanda straightened her shoulders. "I got a promotion today. I've been a full producer for--" she squinted at her watch "--nine hours now."

  "Hey, that's great."

  "Thanks." She could tell he was genuinely happy for her. But did he realize all the job entailed? "It's what I've worked toward ever since my divorce. The hours are long and there's a lot of stress, but I'm looking forward to the challenge."

  His smile faded. "Is this is your way of telling me you'll be busy the next time I call?"

  She had to be honest. "Very likely. I shouldn't even be here now. I was working on production budgets that are due before Christmas, and I've got to get back to the studio." Her fingers sought the solace of her worry stone. "I don't know how I'm going to get everything done."

  Kirk touched her cheek, forcing her to meet his eyes. "And this is what you want?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "No life outside that television studio?"

  "It's the life I chose and I love it." At least she had loved it.

  "No responsibilities toward anyone but yourself, right?"

  She knew where he was headed. "I won't have time to take on other responsibilities."

  "Meaning Virginia and me."

  "Meaning I've worked nine years toward this. And whether you realize it or not, you need a stay-at-home wife."

  "If you're worried that I'll ask you to quit your job--"

  "No," Amanda interrupted, because she knew he never would. "I'm worried that I'll want to."

  Raising a finger, he traced the line of her jaw. "And would that be so bad?"

  "I can't do it," she whispered. "I gave up everything once ... " Amanda almost broke down. "Find somebody better for Virginia. Somebody who'll run the car pool and bake brownies and be president of the PTA. Somebody who'll sit front row center at every Christmas pageant."

  "What about somebody for me?" Kirk asked, holding her close.

  Amanda pushed away. "I c-can't be that person."

  "Without even trying?"

  Trying would only lead to a deeper hurt. "It wouldn't work."

  "You sound very sure," he said, his voice flat.


  "I am."

  She thought he might protest, but he didn't. "It's just as well that the last of the Santa broadcasts is on Christmas Eve. Then you won't have any reason to see us again, will you?"

  "I guess not." Amanda could barely choked out the words.

  "I think a clean break would be best. It will be easier for me to explain to Virginia why--"

  An unearthly wailing came from the stairs.

  "Virginia!" Kirk bolted toward her, Amanda right behind.

  The sobbing girl clung to the railing halfway down the steps. Kirk pried her fingers loose and gathered her into his arms.

  She'd overheard them.

  After everything else, listening to her cry and to Kirk’s soothing murmurs was too much.

  Amanda felt like an emotional zombie. She approached the stairs and found the heap of blue and white at the bottom. Virginia's costume. Stiffly, Amanda bent to pick it up, meeting Kirk's eyes as she stood.

  He gazed at her, his expression cold. "I think you'd better go."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "There is no Santa Claus." Virginia sat on a stool in front of the camera and refused to say anything else. Studio time was ticking away. In a few moments, another show was scheduled to be taped.

  Amanda leaned her head against the wall. Ever since Mrs. Webster had brought her to the studio, Virginia had stubbornly refused to cooperate.

  "Virginia?" Amanda approached her.

  Glacial blue eyes swiveled toward her, then away.

  "Honey, you have to choose the best Santa Claus. Tomorrow's Christmas Eve."

  "No. They're all fake."

  "Is there one you thought was a pretty good fake?"

  Virginia shook her head.

  "Would you like to look at all the videotapes? Maybe that'll help you remember."

  "Don't need to. They all flunked my test."

  Amanda grabbed hold of her evaporating patience. She knew she was to blame for Virginia's recalcitrance. "What was your test?"

  "To give me my Christmas wish."

  "What was your wish?"

  Virginia shook her head. "Santa will know."

  Amanda closed her eyes in frustration. When she opened them, she saw Kay, who gave her the hurry-up signal from the control booth. "If you won't tell me, will you tell Kay?"

  "No."

  "Ron?"

  "No."

  "Mrs. Webster?"

  Virginia shook her head.

  "Your dad?" Amanda had avoided thinking about Kirk. Tossing him back into the matrimonial pond had been the hardest thing she'd ever done. Maybe some day, when Virginia had children of her own, she'd finally appreciate what Amanda had done for her.

  "Daddy knows."

  "What?" And he hadn't told her?

  Sighing, she beckoned to Mrs. Webster, who was observing from behind a glass partition. "Why don't you take Virginia on home. If she thaws, let me know."

  Mrs. Webster gave her a frosty nod. Great. Everyone hated her.

  "Amanda," Kay wandered out of the control booth. "Far be it from me to tell you how to do your brand-new job, but we've got to alert the mall where we'll be broadcasting. They'll want to maximize the publicity opportunities. We've been hyping this for days."

  "I know, Kay." Amanda had both hands in her pockets. She rubbed her worry stones so hard she thought the heat would scorch the fabric.

  "What's wrong with the kid?"

  "She's a lonely little girl and she ... got too attached to me."

  Kay twirled the headphones she held. Just before putting them back on she said, "Sounds like you two were a good match."

  ***

  Back in her office--she hadn't had time to move to Maria's more spacious one--Amanda tried to schedule studio time for the next calendar quarter. She'd done it before and it'd always worked out. But before, it was just something she submitted with her pitches--something extra to save the producer time.

  Apparently no one else was gunning for producer.

  Giving up, she admitted that she'd be unable to concentrate until she talked with Kirk.

  Kirk wasn't in his office.

  "We've got our fingers crossed," Rosalie confided to her. Obviously, Rosalie was unaware of Amanda's pariah status. "The Rambling Ranch owners are flying in today. It'll be so great for business if we sell that house!"

  "Tell him I said 'good luck'. Also, could you leave him a message?"

  "Sure."

  "Tell him ... tell him that he knows what Virginia's Christmas wish is and ... and that he'll have to play Santa."

  Rosalie, chuckled. "She's a sweetie, isn't she?"

  "Yes." Amanda struggled to disguise the emotion in her voice.

  "We're all going to be watching tomorrow afternoon."

  Swell.

  "If I don't talk to you before then, Merry Christmas!"

  "Merry Christmas," Amanda echoed.

  It was the wee hours of the morning when Amanda stumbled--literally--through her living room.

  Her floor was still littered with Christmas ornaments, boxes, sacks and a nearly assembled Christmas tree. She caught her foot on a box, and when she tried to catch her balance, stepped squarely into a box of glass ornaments.

  They crunched.

  Why had she bothered? The only time she’d have to decorate would be Christmas Day.

  It looked like she'd have lots of time to herself then, even if she ended up doing what she always did on major religious holidays--volunteering for studio duty so somebody with a family could stay home.

  Kirk hadn't called. Even though they'd parted in such a miserable way, she'd expected him to return her call.

  Reaching for the lamp, she flipped on the light to see what ones had broken. Wasn't there some law that said they would be the most expensive ornaments she'd purchased?

  Or the ones with the most sentimental value.

  Amanda crouched down and lifted a box full of smashed Santa Clauses.

  ***

  "They're all fake and I'll tell 'em so!"

  Amanda stood in the parking lot of the Hello Houston studio. Virginia sat in Mrs. Webster's car and refused to come out.

  The Hello Houston van was packed and ready to go. Amanda just didn't know where to send it.

  Kay smoked the first cigarette Amanda had seen her smoke in months.

  Whirling on her heel, Amanda ran back into the building. She commandeered the security guard's telephone and called McEnery Realtors.

  "McEn-"

  "Rosalie, I've got to talk to Kirk right now. Beep him or call him or send out the National Guard."

  "Is Virginia injured?"

  "Not yet."

  "That's the only circumstance under which I can disturb him."

  Ah, so Rosalie had been informed of Amanda’s change of status to persona non grata. "Rosalie--I'm desperate. Desperate! We go live in two hours and Virginia won't choose a Santa Claus. Now, if she has to bleed before you'll call her father, then I can arrange it."

  She must have sounded convincing, because Rosalie put her on hold. Good. She'd explain to Kirk and get him to convince Virginia to cooperate. Then--

  "Ms. Donnelly? I'm sorry. Mr. McEnery is unavailable."

  Stunned, Amanda returned the telephone to the security guard.

  She walked outside and faced the blank faces of the crew. Kay sat in the front seat of the van and puffed cigarette after cigarette. Any moment, she'd take over and Amanda's authority would be forever undermined.

  Amanda was the producer. She needed to produce.

  Jogging to the van, she announced, "Virginia gave the Buffalo Bayou Santa the highest rating of any Santa so far. We'll go there."

  "Let's move," Kay said, grinding out her cigarette.

  Ecstatic Buffalo Bayou Mall officials were waiting to greet them. Though, as one confided to Amanda, they'd hired a team of Santas and had to check their employment records to see which one had been on duty the day Virginia had visited. Nevertheless, they were working on it and were thrilled with the honor. />
  Amanda could hardly speak. Her first live remote as full producer and she had no idea what Virginia would do.

  How ironic that the little girl had frequently nailed her lines on the first run-through when they'd been taping and now she refused to discuss any script at all.

  And it was live. What if she threw a tantrum? What if she declared the Santa was a fake?

  The negative publicity would be horrendous.

  "Kay--" Amanda approached the executive producer "--I don't want to go live. Let's tape her and splice the old rating footage into the program."

  Kay removed her headphones. "Not take chances? That's not the Amanda Donnelly I know."

  Oh, yes it was. She wanted safe and predictable. Boring. Actually, boring was quite attractive.

  "You've got first-time jitters," Kay said, replacing her headphones. Don't worry."

  Amanda had done live remotes before and Kay knew it.

  "Ms. Donnelly?"

  Amanda turned to the mall official.

  "We've located the Santa Claus and he'll be here within the hour."

  With a sinking feeling, Amanda checked her watch. Great. He'd arrive half an hour before air time, leaving them no choice but to go live.

  After checking with her crew and finding everything under control, Amanda wandered to the toy store where she'd sent Virginia and Mrs. Webster, hoping that Mrs. Webster could divine Virginia's heart's desire.

  Amanda spotted them through the window. Virginia looked like a robot. A desperately unhappy robot.

  And Amanda realized she felt exactly the same way.

  Virginia needed a full-time, brownie-baking mom. Amanda knew that, but apparently Kirk and Virginia didn't.

  Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much?

  ***

  "Where's Santa?"

  "Changing."

  "We're live in seven minutes."

  "He won't have time for make-up."

  "Is the talent ready?"

  "She needs blush."

  "Six minutes, Ms. Donnelly."

  "Get that cable out of the frame!"

  "Ron, pan the mall ... somebody verify the correct spelling of the mall guy's name ... "

  "Keep the crowd back."

  "Sound check!"

  "Give me a number-two spot on Santa's throne."