Christmas in New York

by Monique Martin

  They made their way a little closer but the store was too crowded. She couldn’t see anything.

  “Over here,” he said.

  Henry stopped near a man sitting slumped in a chair. He held two shopping bags and a purse clutched to his chest.

  “Your wife’s looking for you,” Henry said to him.

  The man perked up and stood. “Thank God. Where?”

  Henry pointed vaguely back where they’d come and the man hurried off.

  Henry grinned as he stepped up onto the chair and held out his hand to Charlotte. She took his hand and he helped her up. She could finally see.

  Santa Claus sat in a big green chair on an elevated platform about forty feet away. On either side of him stood lady elves. They took turns guiding children from a line that snaked all the way back into the rest of the store to sit with Santa.

  A little girl with pigtails cried as she was brought up the steps and put on Santa’s lap. She wailed so loudly Charlotte could actually hear her even over the noise of the crowd. Santa held on to her and bounced her on his knee but all she did was cry. And cry. Santa looked helplessly at one of his elves.

  Henry giggled.

  The girl was taken away and a shy little boy took her place. He whispered something to Santa.

  “That’s how I’d do it,” Henry said.

  “What?”

  “Tell him what I want. I’d keep it private-like.”

  Charlotte looked at Henry with curiosity. “You believe in Santa?”

  Henry didn’t seem the type. He was older than she was, and the way he looked after the other kids at the orphanage …

  Charlotte hadn’t believed in forever. It seemed kind of silly but after the stories her parents and Uncle Teddy and Jack had told her, she supposed anything was possible.

  Henry wrinkled his face. “Naw. That’s for babies.”

  He meant it, but then he looked back at Santa with a wistful look on his face.

  Charlotte understood. She might not believe but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to sometimes.

  After the shy boy, Santa stood and waved to the crowd. Charlotte could barely hear one of the elves announce that Santa was on a short break and would be back in few minutes.

  Suddenly, Henry jumped down from the chair. “Come on. They’re giving out free candy canes over by housewares. We gotta hurry ‘cause they run out.”

  Charlotte nodded and jumped down. Henry slipped between people standing in line and Charlotte hurried to keep up. He took her hand but somehow, they got pulled apart. The crowd was thicker than ever on the other side.

  “Henry!”

  She tried to find him but kept getting pushed by the flow of the crowd.

  “Henry!”

  Finally, she was able to get out of the stream and stood by the accessories. Henry was nowhere to be seen.

  She felt a swelling of panic but pushed it down. She’d find him. And if she didn’t, she was smart. She could get back on her own. Probably. Maybe.

  Her courage wobbled, then she remembered he said housewares. All she had to do was find that. How hard could that be?

  She made her way out of the thicket of people and found a counter. She stood on her tiptoes so she could see over it.

  “Excuse me?”

  The lady behind the counter was helping a woman choose a pair of gloves.

  “I don’t know,” the woman said. “They’re pretty but …”

  The sales lady forced a smile to her face. “They’re all the rage this year.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Miss?” Charlotte said, waving and hoping to catch her attention.

  “No, I think I’ll try the other on again.” The saleslady disappeared in the opposite direction.

  It was no use. Charlotte would have to find it by herself. She moved out of the center aisles and off to the side where there were fewer people but she still couldn’t see anything. And the store was huge.

  “Are you lost?” a nice lady asked her.

  “Do you know where housewares is?”

  The woman smiled and pointed. “Just back there.”

  “Thank you!”

  Charlotte set off at a run, well, as much of a run as she could manage as she weaved through the crowd. She came to a corner in lady’s outerwear and finally saw a sign. Housewares. She took off toward it and crashed right into something soft and spongy.

  She bounced off it so hard that she flew backwards and landed somewhere between sweaters and coats. She fell hard onto the ground. Her head hit the floor with a crack. She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment and when she opened them she saw a bright star. It shimmered and twinkled. Then a face blocked it out.

  Santa Claus stared down at her. Maybe he was real.

  She stared up at him, breathless.

  Then he tugged down his beard. “You okay, kid?”

  His face was a little blurry but he looked familiar. Big jowly face. Kind eyes.

  “Charlie?”

  The man in the Santa suit gave a short laugh and shook his head. “Name’s Fred. But don’t tell anybody, okay.” He helped her up and put his beard back in place. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

  Charlotte nodded, still a little woozy.

  “Your parents around?”

  She looked up at him and could see now that he wasn’t Charlie. He didn’t even really look like him, not really.

  “Kid?”

  “There you are!”

  Charlotte turned and saw Henry coming toward her.

  “Where’d you go?”

  She still felt kind of wiggly inside. She reached back to touch the small lump on the back of her head. “I fell.”

  Santa held her arm. “Maybe I should take you—”

  “No. I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head. “Really.”

  She held out her hand to Henry. “Come on. Let’s go find our parents.”

  “Parents?”

  She gave him a look. He was still confused but nodded and they made their escape.

  Once they were out of earshot, Henry whispered. “What’s with the parents? Just how hard did you hit your head?”

  “I’m fine. I just didn’t want Santa to take us to the manager or something.”

  Henry smiled, impressed. “Good thinking.”

  Charlotte tried to smile but her head hurt.

  “Maybe we should get you back, huh?”

  Charlotte hated to cut short their adventure. “What about the candy canes?”

  Henry took two from his pocket and held them up. He gave her one and stuffed the other back in his pocket.

  “Thanks.”

  He held out his hand and she took it. Henry held on tight, being sure not to let her go.

  They went back to Penn Station and caught the 7th Avenue train again. By the time they were walking back toward Mrs. Blomster’s Charlotte felt tired and hungry.

  She thought about eating her candy cane but that wouldn’t really help. Her stomach gurgled in protest.

  She put a hand on her stomach and gave Henry an embarrassed smile.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He looked across the street and came silently to a decision. “Come on.”

  They crossed the street and went up Bowery.

  “Aren’t we going the wrong way?” Charlotte asked. She’d started to get her bearings and had a basic sense of what direction was what now.

  “We’re gonna get you some food.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t have any money.”

  “You don’t need it,” he said and looked down the street. “Not here.”

  A long line of people cued up in front of a soup kitchen. Henry walked them to the end of the line.

  Charlotte felt uneasy. “Are you sure?”

  “I do it all the time.”

  Charlotte didn’t want to say that it wasn’t the same for her. That sounded ungrateful. And to be honest, she was hungry.

  More men fell in behind them in lin
e.

  “Don’t worry. It moves pretty fast,” Henry said.

  Charlotte nodded, still feeling uncomfortable about being there.

  One of the men in front of them turned around. He looked at them both. “You two alone?”

  Henry stood a little straighter.

  The man noticed his change in posture and held up his hands. “If you are, you can move ahead of me.”

  Henry was surprised but nodded. “Thanks.”

  The man let them go ahead of him. The man ahead of him noticed and did the same. They were passed halfway up the line like that. Each time it made Charlotte feel guiltier and guiltier.

  Finally, they were behind a mother with a young boy. Their clothes were worse than Henry’s. They were mostly clean but the threads hung off the cuffs of their jackets and the soles of their shoes were pulling away.

  One little boy who was clinging to his mother’s legs turned to look at them. Charlotte smiled at him and he ducked his head back.

  Charlotte tapped on his shoulder and, warily, he turned his head back a little and looked at them with one eye. Charlotte held out her candy cane. The boy looked at it, unsurely.

  Charlotte moved it a little closer. “You can have it.”

  The mother turned around.

  “Is it okay?” Charlotte asked. “If I give it to him.”

  Something passed in her eyes then she nodded.

  “It’s okay,” she told the boy.

  Shyly he took the candy from her. He looked at like he’d just seen Santa himself. “Thank you.”

  His mother picked him up and he looked at Charlotte over her shoulder as he clutched his prize.

  Charlotte leaned over to Henry. “I’m sorry. I know you gave it to me, but—”

  Henry shook his head. “That’s what Christmas is, right?”

  Charlotte didn’t know why but she felt tears start to clog the back of her throat. She could only nod.

  Henry just smiled back at her and waited his turn in line.

  ~~~

  That was a colossal waste, Simon thought as their cab slowly moved through traffic. After their morning following Charlie and Quinlan and their … adventure at City Hall.

  “All in all, I think it was a good day,” Elizabeth said as she stared happily out of the cab window at the city passing by. “Don’t you?”

  Only his wife could consider thwarting an assassination attempt as part of a “good day.” He was trying not to be negative, but it was increasingly difficult.

  “I suppose,” he allowed.

  So far, they’d discovered that Charlie wasn’t just under the thumb of a corrupt policeman, which would have been bad enough, but the corrupt policeman’s boss was a corrupt politician who worked with Tammany Hall.

  They’d tracked down the reporter who’d been questioning the alderman and found out he worked for the New York Times. A trip to Times Square to see him had been less than productive. He’d refused to even talk to them. They’d come all this way for nothing.

  “You know,” Elizabeth said, “I didn’t even put together that the Times in Times Square was because of the New York Times.”

  “What did you think it meant?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Time-s.”

  Simon had to chuckled. “Well, at least we learned something today.”

  Elizabeth reached over and took his hand, giving him an encouraging smile. “You see? A good day.”

  Simon had to shake his head. She was incorrigibly optimistic.

  He leaned over to kiss her when something outside of the cab caught his eye. It was impossible, and yet—

  “Stop the cab.”

  The cabbie craned his neck around. “What?”

  Simon leaned forward. “Here. Now. Stop the cab.”

  Elizabeth turned to him in concern. “What’s wrong?”

  Simon told the cabbie to wait. He reached across Elizabeth to open her door and flung it open.

  “Simon?”

  At his silent urging she got out of the cab and he followed close behind.

  “It’s impossible,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What’s going on?”

  He was about to stop and turn back. Maybe it had been his imagination when he saw it again—a very distinct blue coat.

  “Charlotte!”

  “What?”

  Standing in the middle of a soup kitchen line was their daughter.

  She’d heard her name called and turned to look around. She looked all right. Thank God. But what in the bloody hell was she doing here?

  “What in the—”

  Charlotte saw them and her face went pale. She said something and a boy appeared next to her, stepping out of the crowd. His eyes went round with fear. He snatched the cap off his head and ran down the street away from them. Charlotte watched him go then turned back just in time to be swept into her mother’s arms.

  “Are you all right? What happened? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m all right.”

  Simon forced himself to take a deep breath. Life with both Elizabeth and Charlotte had taught him to take a moment before reacting. In this case, it didn’t help much. His fear fueled his anger.

  “Charlotte,” he said, tightly. “You had better have a good explanation for—”

  “What’s this?” Elizabeth said, worry making her voice rise.

  She felt the back of Charlotte’s head. Charlotte winced and brought her own hand up to the spot.

  “Just a bump.”

  Elizabeth looked at Simon.

  Simon felt the back of Charlotte’s head, his heart leaping into his throat. Tenderly he felt for the injury. There was a lump there but it wasn’t too bad. Thank God.

  “It’s nothing. I just fell.”

  Simon let the tingle from the shot of adrenaline dissipate. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  She nodded. She looked tired but otherwise all right.

  “Was that the boy from before?” Elizabeth asked as she smoothed down Charlotte’s hair.

  “Boy from before?” Simon was used to being in the dark, but a boy?

  Charlotte nodded.

  He wanted answers. He needed answers, but he was suddenly keenly aware of where they were and all of the eyes that were on them. He held out his hand to Charlotte. “I think we should get her home.”

  Elizabeth looked at him and he clarified. “The hotel.”

  As much as his instinct was to take his family home, he knew Elizabeth would not forgive him if they left now. And he wasn’t sure if he’d forgive himself.

  Charlotte took his hand and looked up at him, contrite and tired. Her hand felt so small in his and she looked so fragile. His anger fled as quickly as it had come as he picked her up and carried her back to the cab.

  ~~~

  The city that never sleeps slept. Just without Simon.

  He stood looking out of the window of their hotel room at the night beyond, lost in thought.

  Charlotte was fine. A minor bump, but the fact that she’d disobeyed them and put herself at such risk wasn’t as easily forgotten. He could still hear Elizabeth’s counterargument to his worry.

  She shouldn’t have done what she did. I’m not saying that. But she just went off to play with a boy.

  Yes, a boy. Simon shuddered at the thought that he would be the first of many.

  “Enough time to worry about that later,” he said to himself.

  For now, he had plenty else to worry about. Charlotte was contrite about her adventure to Macy’s. Her apologies were genuine. And maybe, Simon thought, they were partly responsible as well. They shouldn’t have left her alone in the first place. Coming here had been her gift, after all.

  Simon sighed and looked back out into the night. The cold made the lights sparkle a little brighter but it didn’t lift his mood.

  The door to Charlotte’s bedroom creaked open. She stood in the doorway in her nightgown.

  “Hi.”

  “Can’t sleep?”
r />   She shook her head and came toward him. He put his hand on her forehead then her cheek. “Are you feeling all right?”

  She nodded.

  He waited for more but nothing came. He took her hand and led her to the sofa. He sat down and she climbed into his lap. She rested her head on his chest and he ran his hand up and down her arm.

  “Aren’t you cold?”

  She shook her head.

  They sat together in silence for a minute just being with each other.

  Finally, Charlotte spoke.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Simon cupped her cheek. “I know.” He kissed the top of her head again.

  She eased away from him and sat up so she could see his face. She looked at him with such keen eyes he almost thought she could see right through to his soul.

  “Are you okay?” she asked

  He smiled and nodded. She didn’t seem to believe him.

  “Really,” he said.

  She continued to stare at him. Right into him.

  “Mostly,” he conceded.

  She leaned back against his chest. “This city brings back memories for me. Some are difficult. Do you understand?”

  She nodded against this chest.

  “Some are wonderful though. This city is where your mother saved me.”

  She sat up again. “From King Kashian?”

  He shook his head and smiled at her, feeling as he always did, overwhelmed by the love he felt for her. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

  “From a life without you in it.”

  The emotion in his voice seemed to transfer to his child. Her chin wobbled precariously.

  “I’m a very lucky man.”

  She leaned back against his chest, hugging him as she did. His arms settled around her.

  “I’m sorry that this isn’t exactly the Christmas gift you wanted.”

  “That’s okay,” she said.

  Simon sighed, sure it wasn’t.

  “I learned something about Christmas today,” she said.

  Simon pulled back to see her face. “You did? And what’s that?”

  Her little forehead scrunched up in serious thought. “That it isn’t about what you get at all. I think it’s about what you give.”

  If there hadn’t already been a lump in Simon’s throat there surely would be now. He cleared his throat, although it didn’t do much good.