Jack...no, Jake. He’d said his name was Jake, and he was cute, too. Maybe handsome was a more accurate description. Classically handsome, like those 1940s movie stars in the old films she loved. Tall, nicely trimmed dark hair, broad shoulders, expressive eyes and...probably married. She’d been too shocked by his generosity to see whether he had a wedding band. Yeah, he was probably taken. Par for the course, she thought a little glumly. Holly was thirty, but being single at that age wasn’t uncommon among her friends. Her parents seemed more worried about it than she was.
Most of her girlfriends didn’t even think about settling down until after they turned thirty. Holly knew she wanted a husband and eventually a family. What she hadn’t expected was becoming a sole parent to Gabe. This time with her nephew was like a dress rehearsal for being a mother, her friends told her. Unfortunately, there weren’t any lines to memorize and the script changed almost every day.
At lunch she heated her Cup-a-Soup in the microwave and logged on to the internet to check for messages from Mickey. Her brother kept in touch with Gabe every day and sent her a quick note whenever he could. Sure enough, there was an email waiting for her.
From: “Lieutenant Mickey Larson”
To: “Holly Larson”
Sent: December 10
Subject: Gabe’s email
Hi, sis,
Gabe’s last note to me was hilarious. What’s this about you making him put down the toilet seat? He thinks girls should do it themselves. This is what happens when men live together. The seat’s perpetually up.
Has he told you what he wants for Christmas yet? He generally mentions a toy before now, but he’s been suspiciously quiet about it this year. Let me know when he drops his hints.
I wish I could be with you both, but that’s out of the question. Next year for sure.
I know it’s been rough on you having to fit Gabe into your apartment and your life, but I have no idea what I would’ve done without you.
By the way, I heard from Mom and Dad. The dental clinic Dad set up is going well. Who’d have guessed our parents would be doing volunteer work after retirement? They send their love...but now that I think about it, you got the same email as me, didn’t you? They both sound happy but really busy. Mom was concerned about you taking Gabe, but she seems reassured now.
Well, I better get some shut-eye. Not to worry—I reminded Gabe that when he’s staying at a house with a woman living in it, the correct thing to do is put down the toilet seat.
Check in with you later.
Thank you again for everything.
Love,
Mickey
Holly read the message twice, then sent him a note. She’d always been close to her brother and admired him for picking up the pieces of his life after Sally died of a rare blood disease. Gabe hadn’t even been a year old. Holly had a lot more respect for the demands of parenthood—and especially single parenthood—now that Gabe lived with her.
At five o’clock, she was out the door. Lindy Lee threw her an evil look, which Holly pretended not to see. She caught the subway and had to stand, holding tight to one of the poles, for the whole rush-hour ride into Brooklyn.
As she was lurched and jolted on the train, her mind wandered back to Mickey’s email. Gabe hadn’t said anything about Christmas to her, either. And yet he had to know that the holidays were almost upon them; all the decorations in the neighborhood and the ads on TV made it hard to miss. For the first time in his life, Gabe wouldn’t be spending Christmas with his father and grandparents. This year, there’d be just the two of them. Maybe he’d rather not celebrate until his father came home, she thought. That didn’t seem right, though. Holly was determined to make this the best Christmas possible.
Not once had Gabe told her what he wanted. She wondered whether she should ask him, maybe encourage him to write Santa a letter—did he still believe in Santa?—or try to guess what he might like. Her other question was what she could buy on a limited income. A toy? She knew next to nothing about toys, especially the kind that would intrigue an eight-year-old boy. She felt besieged by even more insecurities.
She stepped off the subway, climbed the stairs to the street and hurried to Gabe’s school, which housed the after-hours activity program set up for working parents. At least it wasn’t snowing anymore. Which was a good thing, since she’d forgotten to make Gabe wear his boots that morning.
What happened the first day she’d gone to collect Gabe still made her cringe. She’d been thirty-two minutes late. The financial penalty was steep and cut into her carefully planned budget, but that didn’t bother her nearly as much as the look on Gabe’s face.
He must have assumed she’d abandoned him. His haunted expression brought her to the edge of tears every time she thought about it. That was the same night she’d prepared her favorite dinner for him—another disaster. Now she knew better and kept an unending supply of hot dogs—God help them both—plus boxes of macaroni and cheese. He’d deign to eat carrot sticks and bananas, but those were his only concessions, no matter how much she talked about balanced nutrition. He found it hilarious to claim that the relish he slathered on his hot dogs was a “vegetable.”
She waited by the row of hooks, each marked with a child’s name. Gabe ran over the instant he saw her, his face bright with excitement. “I made a new friend!”
“That’s great.” Thankfully Gabe appeared to have adjusted well to his new school and teacher.
“Billy!” he called. “Come and meet my aunt Holly.”
Holly’s smile froze. This wasn’t just any Billy. It was Bill Carter, Junior, son of the man who’d broken up with her three months earlier.
“Hello, Billy,” she said, wondering if he’d recognize her.
The boy gazed up at her quizzically. Apparently he didn’t. Or maybe he did remember her but wasn’t sure when they’d met. Either way, Holly was relieved.
“Can I go over to Billy’s house?” Gabe asked. The two boys linked arms like long-lost brothers.
“Ah, when?” she hedged. Seeing Bill again would be difficult. Holly wasn’t eager to talk to the man who’d dumped her—especially considering why. It would be uncomfortable for both of them.
“I want him to come tonight,” Billy said. “My dad’s making sloppy joes. And we’ve got marshmallow ice cream for dessert.”
“Well...” Her meals could hardly compete with that—not if you were an eight-year-old boy. Personally, Holly couldn’t think of a less appetizing combination.
Before she could come up with a response, Gabe tugged at her sleeve. “Billy doesn’t have a mom, either,” he told her.
“I have a mom,” Billy countered, “only she doesn’t live with us anymore.”
“My mother’s in heaven with the angels,” Gabe said. “I live with my dad, too, ’cept he’s in Afghanistan now.”
“So that’s why you’re staying with your aunt Holly.” Billy nodded.
“Yeah.” Gabe reached for his jacket and backpack.
“I’m sorry, Billy,” she finally managed to say, “but Gabe and I already have plans for tonight.”
Gabe whirled around. “We do?”
“We’re going shopping,” she said, thinking on her feet.
Gabe scowled and crossed his arms. “I hate shopping.”
“You won’t this time,” she promised and helped him put on his winter jacket, along with his hat and mitts.
“Yes, I will,” Gabe insisted, his head lowered.
“You and Billy can have a playdate later,” she said, forcing herself to speak cheerfully.
“When?” Billy asked, unwilling to let the matter drop.
“How about next week?” She’d call or email Bill so it wouldn’t come as a big shock when she showed up on his doorstep.
“Okay,” Billy agreed.
&
nbsp; “That suit you?” Holly asked Gabe. She wanted to leave now, just in case Bill was picking up his son today. She recalled that their housekeeper usually did this—but why take chances? Bill was the very last person she wanted to see.
Gabe shrugged, unhappy with the compromise. He let her take his hand as they left the school, but as soon as they were outdoors, he promptly snatched it away.
“Where are we going shopping?” he asked, still pouting as they headed in the opposite direction of her apartment building. The streetlights glowed and she saw Christmas decorations in apartment windows—wreaths, small potted trees and strings of colored lights. So far Holly hadn’t done anything. Perhaps this weekend she’d find time to put up their tree—after she’d finished decorating the office, of course.
“I thought we’d go see Santa this evening,” Holly announced.
“Santa?” He raised his head and eyed her speculatively.
“Would you like that?”
Gabe seemed to need a moment to consider the question. “I guess.”
Holly assumed he was past the age of believing in Santa but wasn’t quite ready to admit it, for fear of losing out on extra gifts. Still, she didn’t feel she could ask him. “I want you to hold my hand while we’re on the subway, okay?”
“Okay,” he said in a grumpy voice.
They’d go to Finley’s, she decided. She knew for sure that the store had a Santa. Besides, she wanted to look at the windows with their festive scenes and moving parts. Even in his current mood, Gabe would enjoy them, Holly thought. And so would she.
Chapter Three
Exercise daily—walk with the Lord.
—Mrs. Miracle
It was the second Friday in December and the streets were crowded with shoppers and tourists. As they left the subway, Holly kept a close watch on Gabe, terrified of becoming separated. She heaved a sigh of relief when they reached Finley’s Department Store. The big display windows in the front of the fourteen-story structure were cleverly decorated. One showed a Santa’s workshop scene, including animated elves wielding hammers and saws. Another was a mirrored pond that had teddy bears skating around and around. Still another, the window closest to the doors, featured a huge Christmas tree, circled by a toy train running on its own miniature track. The boxcars were filled with gaily wrapped gifts.
With the crowds pressing against them, Gabe and Holly moved from window to window, stopping at the final one. “Isn’t that a great train set?” she asked.
Gabe nodded.
“Would you like one of those for Christmas?” she murmured. “You could ask Santa.”
Gabe glanced up at her. “There’s something else I want more.”
“Okay, you can tell Santa that,” she said.
They headed into the store, and had difficulty getting through the revolving doors, crushed in with other shoppers. “Can we go home and have dinner when we’re done seeing Santa?” Gabe asked.
“Of course. What would you like?”
If he said hot dogs or macaroni and cheese Holly promised herself she wouldn’t scream.
“Mashed potatoes with gravy and meat loaf with lots of ketchup.”
That would take a certain amount of effort but was definitely something she could do. “You got it.”
Gabe cast her one of his rare smiles, and Holly placed her hand on his shoulder. This was progress.
The ground floor of Finley’s was crammed. The men’s department was to the right and the cosmetics and perfume counters directly ahead. Holly inched her way forward, Gabe close by her side.
“We need to get to the escalator,” she told him, steering the boy in that direction. She hoped that once they got up to the third floor, the crowds would have thinned out, at least a little.
“Okay.” He voluntarily slipped his hand in hers.
More progress. Visiting Santa had clearly been a stroke of genius on her part.
Her guess about the crowds was accurate. When they reached the third floor Holly felt she could breathe again. If it wasn’t for Gabe, she wouldn’t come within ten miles of Thirty-Fourth on a Friday night in December.
“Santa’s over there,” Gabe said, pointing.
The kid obviously had Santa Claus radar. Several spry elves in green tights and pointy hats surrounded the jolly old man in the red suit. This guy was good, too. His full white beard was real. He must’ve just gotten off break because he wore a huge smile.
The visit to Santa was free but for an extra twenty dollars, she could buy a picture. They’d stopped at an ATM on their way to the subway and she’d gotten cash. Although she couldn’t help feeling a twinge at spending the money, a photo of Gabe with Santa would be the perfect Christmas gift for Mickey.
The line moved quickly. Gabe seemed excited and happy, chattering away about this and that, and his mood infected Holly. She hadn’t felt much like Christmas until now. Classic carols rang through the store and soon Holly was humming along.
When it was Gabe’s turn, he hopped onto Santa’s knee as if the two of them were old friends.
“Hello there, young man,” Santa said, adding a “Ho, ho, ho.”
“Hello.” Gabe looked him square in the eyes.
“And what would you like Santa to bring you?” the jolly old fellow inquired.
Her nephew didn’t hesitate. “All I want for Christmas is Telly the SuperRobot.”
What in heaven’s name was that? A robot? Even without checking, Holly knew this wasn’t going to be a cheap toy. A train set—a small one—she could manage, but an electronic toy was probably out of her price range.
“Very well, young man, Santa will see what he can do. Anything else you’re interested in?”
“A train set,” Gabe said, his eyes serious. “But I really want Intellytron.”
“Intellytron,” Holly muttered to herself.
Santa gestured at the camera. “Now smile big for me, and your mom can collect the photograph in five minutes.”
“Okay.” Gabe gave Santa a huge smile, then slid off his knee so the next child in line could have a turn. It took Holly a moment to realize that Gabe hadn’t corrected Santa about who she was.
Holly went around to the counter behind Santa’s chair to wait for the photograph, accompanied by Gabe.
“I don’t know where Santa will find one of those robots,” she said, trying to get as much information as she could.
“All the stores have them,” Gabe assured her. “Billy wants an Intellytron, too.”
So she could blame Billy for this sudden desire. But since this was the only toy Gabe wanted, she’d do her best to make sure that Intellytron the SuperRobot would be wrapped and under the tree Christmas morning.
“Maybe I should see what this robot friend of yours looks like,” she suggested. A huge sign pointing to the toy department was strategically placed near Santa’s residence. This, Holly felt certain, was no coincidence.
“Toys are this way,” Gabe said, leading her by the hand.
Holly dutifully followed. “What if they don’t have the robot?” she asked.
“They will,” he said with sublime confidence.
“But what if they don’t?”
Gabe frowned and then tilted his chin at a thoughtful angle. “Can Santa bring my dad home?”
Holly’s heart sank. “Not this year, sweetheart.”
“Then all I really want is my robot.”
She’d been afraid of that.
They entered the toy department and were met by a grandmotherly woman with a name badge that identified her as Mrs. Emily Miracle.
“Why, hello there,” the woman greeted Gabe with a smile.
Gabe immediately smiled back at her. “Hello.”
“I see you’ve been to visit Santa.” She nodded at the photo Holly was holding.
“Yup,” Gabe said happi
ly. “He was nice.”
“Did you tell Santa what you want for Christmas?”
“Intellytron the SuperRobot,” he replied.
“Telly is a wonderful toy. Let me show you one.”
“Please,” Holly said, hoping against hope that the robot was reasonably priced. If fate was truly with her, it would also be on sale.
Mrs. Miracle took them to a display on the other side of the department, directly across from the elevator. The robots would be the first toys seen by those stepping off. She wondered why they weren’t by the escalator, but then it dawned on her. Mothers with young children usually came up via elevator. The manager of this department was no dummy.
“Look!” Gabe said, his eyes huge. “It’s Telly! He’s here. I told you he would be. Isn’t he the best ever?”
“Would you like to see how he works?” the grandmotherly saleswoman asked.
“Yes, please.”
Holly was impressed by Gabe’s politeness, which she’d never seen to quite this degree. Well, it was December, and this was the one toy he wanted more than any other. The saleswoman took down the display model and started to demonstrate it when a male voice caught Holly’s attention.
“Hello again.”
She turned to face Jake, the man she’d met in Starbucks that morning. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Eventually she croaked out a subdued hello.
He looked curiously at Gabe. “Your son?”
“My nephew,” she said, recovering her voice. “Gabe’s living with me for the next year while his father’s in Afghanistan.”
“Nephew,” he repeated, and his eyes sparked with renewed interest.
“I brought Gabe here to visit Santa and he said that what he wants for Christmas is Intellytron the SuperRobot.”
“An excellent choice. Would you like me to wrap one for you now?”
“Ah...” Holly paused. “I need to know how much they are first.” Just looking at the toy told her she wasn’t getting off cheap.
“Two hundred and fifty dollars.”
Holly’s hand flew to her heart. “How much?”
“Two hundred and fifty dollars.”
A Christmas Message Page 18
