by Debra Druzy
“Yeah, yeah,” Bob mumbled, followed by a tall, tanned man with chunky blonde streaks in his long blown-back hair. “Everything’s fine. I feel great—better than ever. This is Bruno.” He rolled his eyes at his companion. “Sophia’s nephew from California. We just came from the parade.”
“Oh, it was today? I forgot.” That was a big lie.
“I tried calling you but the operator said your phone’s disconnected.”
“I was getting too many wrong numbers,” she lied again.
“Are you going to the Christmas party?”
“Oh, no, I, um, I can’t.”
“Sure you can. It starts at five. You have an hour to get dressed.”
“I’m…packing.”
“Already?”
“Yep. The house is sold. The real estate agent called Wednesday with the news. Isn’t that great?” The forced words hurt her heart as she said them aloud for the first time. “It happened so fast, they must’ve really wanted it because they offered twice my price.”
“Who bought it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. And I don’t care. I let the attorney handle all that stuff. It was an anonymous investor as far as I know. They paid cash and gave me an open-ended move date.”
“I guess they’re not in any hurry to get in then,” Bruno said, glancing around with a disgusted look screwing up his otherwise decent face. “I can see why. It needs a lot of work. They’re probably waiting for spring so they can knock it down.”
“Ya think?” Lily wanted to smack the smugness right out of him. Sophia’s nephew had the disposition of a loaded diaper.
“What happened to your roommate?” Bob asked.
“He found another place.” She omitted all the details and fought the urge to cry.
“If you need help moving boxes, I’m sure Bruno wouldn’t mind.”
“Whoa, Unc—” Bruno put up his palms. “I’m here on vay-cay. I’m not a moving man.”
“Shut up, stunata. Your aunt would smack you in the mouth if she heard you talking so stupid. Sorry Lily, he has the looks but lacks the manners.”
“Can I use your bathroom?” Bruno asked.
She pointed down the hall.
“He probably wants to check his makeup. Sophia made him my nursemaid until she gets back from Florida. Do me a favor and come to the party so I don’t have to get stuck with that lug the whole time.”
Lily hemmed and hawed. “Oh, fine.” It was time to deliver her Christmas presents to the lucky recipients anyway. And deep down she wanted a reason to go just to see Nick again.
****
After bouncing the last kid on his knee, Santa Claus stretched his sore thighs. Nick’s legs hadn’t hurt this much since he had Lily on the bedroom floor. He missed her so much he could barely breathe.
Ever since storming out that night everything seemed to ache. His head. His heart. And his ego.
It was her body, and her right to do what she wanted. He was wrong to come on so viciously and regretted it as soon as he bolted out her door. But he couldn’t go back—not while she was so…detached; and he was so heartbroken by an unattainable dream.
Even though Nicole went home the next day, he decided to stay at the Scenic View Inn until his super-deluxe customer camper arrived. He didn’t want to tell Maresca how he screwed things up. And he wasn’t sure how to fix it.
Maybe Lily would be in a forgiving mood now that her financial crisis was resolved. If he got the nerve, he’d go by her house tonight to see if she’d accept his apology for everything and be willing to try again from scratch.
Waiting for Santa’s cue to leave, he spotted the familiar redhead and his broken heart swelled with new hope. Then he noticed the stranger hovering beside her and made a beeline in their direction.
Over the din and holiday music Lily’s new friend jibed, “Ho-ho-ho! Look who’s in town? Where’s your reindeer, Fat Man?”
“Ho-ho-ho, yourself, pal.”
“Hey, Kris Kringle, what’s your problem?”
I’m looking at it. Seething, Nick wished he were in his street clothes rather than this ridiculous getup.
“Aww, come on, chillax. What’s the matter—got a lump of coal up your ass or something?” The guy put a playful paw on Santa’s shoulder.
“Get your hand off me, Fabio.”
“Nick!” Lily blinked stormy eyes. “You don’t have to be so rude! This is Bruno, Sophia’s nephew.”
“Oh, is that right?” Nick flipped the pom-pom from the Santa cap out of his eye to get a better look at the competition. “So, you’re the infamous golden ticket, huh?” His fists tensed at his side.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oblivious to the tense situation, Bruno asked Lily, “You know this guy?”
“She’s my girlfriend.”
Lily glared at him. “Was! Was your girlfriend.”
“Whoa, you’re, like, sleeping with Santa?” Bruno hooted. “That’s hilarious. Are you blowing the Easter Bunny, too?”
“Don’t talk to her like that!” Nick rumbled on the verge of eruption.
“Oh, get over yourself, old man. I’m just funning around with her. Maybe we can get a three-way with the Tooth Fairy, whaddaya say?” Bruno winked and put his arm around Lily.
“I told you to watch your mouth!” Reeling back, Nick socked Bruno square in the jaw, knocking the veneers off his front teeth.
“Nick! What the hell are ya doin’?” Maresca shouted. “Quick, get the kids outta here. Now!”
Bob chuckled. “Nice shot, Santa. I bet now all he’ll want for Christmas is his two front teeth.”
“Are you nuts? What kind of Santa are you?” Bruno got up and swiped his hand across his bloody mouth. “I’m outtie.”
Repulsion twisted Lily’s face. “What’s wrong with you? You didn’t have to hit him!”
“Lily, I’m sorry.” He wanted to grab her, hug her, smother her with kisses, but she just backed away, shaking her head. “Look, I didn’t mean to beat up your date.”
“He’s not my date!” She scowled, mumbling some insults under her breath before darting out the door.
****
Despite the darkness and harsh wind, Lily dared the slippery climb home. Her jaw ached from non-stop chattering, and her cheeks were numb from warm tears gone bitter cold. Frozen air penetrated her velour track pants like millions of icy-hot pinpricks, making her thighs itch and burn.
She’d be lucky if she didn’t get frostbite.
For now, she just considered herself stupid for making the journey on foot when she could have found a ride home since Bruno didn’t offer one.
Her broken heart wished the headlights aiming at her might be Nick coming to make amends, but when the big truck sped by, dousing her with dirty bits of slush, she realized it wasn’t him.
“Just. Keep. Walking.” She huffed and puffed white clouds.
Aside from a roaring fire, which she no longer had, immersing her body in a steaming bath would be the quickest way to defrost these bones. She hoped the water heater would cooperate this one time, otherwise she’d have to settle for a quick shower.
At the top of the hill, the bungalow sparkled under the streetlights like a crystal-covered beacon in the night.
So sad it belonged to someone else now.
As soon as she stumbled over the threshold, she ran to the bathroom, dropped the stopper in the drain, and turned the spigot. Rising steam warmed her cheeks, and she ran her hands underneath the flow until the feeling returned to her fingers.
While the tub filled, she peeled out of the wet clothes in front of the hot oven. She grabbed the leftover bottle of room-temperature champagne, popped the cork, and chugged it. Not a celebratory drink on any level. This was purely medicinal.
The morning-after pill sat in a shot glass by the kitchen sink, next to the little green candle—more painful reminders of what could have been.
Maybe if Nick knew she didn’t take it he’d forgive her for doubting him. For doubting her
self.
Showing her face at the Christmas party proved to be a stupid idea. But his jealousy gave her some satisfaction. He even called her his present-tense girlfriend, as if that meant anything to either of them now…
Maybe it did. Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix this after all.
If she hadn’t disconnected her telephone in a hasty attempt to move out and fall off the radar, she could have called him. Now she wished she’d hadn’t made herself purposely unreachable. A dumb move considering she hadn’t paid her cell phone bill in months and the service was finally cut off.
Wishing was pointless.
Or was it?
Candles were for making wishes—that’s what Nick said. So maybe the votive from VV’s had the power to make a wish come true and bring him back.
She struck a match, but the airy draft blew out it out. “Humph,” she snorted, wondering if it was some kind of sign. She tried again and it worked.
Staring at the tiny flame dancing in the saucer on the counter, she watched the melting wax pool around the wick. It smelled just like Christmas. And reminded her of Nick and that night in the dressing room…
Splashing from the bathroom brought her back to the moment, so she ran to check the tub. It was only half-full, but at least the water was hot. She closed the door to conserve the steam before stepping in and slipping under the surface, letting the water work its magic. An instant mind-erasing, stress relieving, bone-defrosting soak was just what she needed.
She dozed until the water turned cool.
Until—
A distinct burning odor seeped in. Then thin wisps of smoke curled under the bathroom door.
“Oh, my God!”
She shot to her feet with water sluicing down her body. The door was hot to the touch. Smoke continued leaking in, so she dunked the towel in the tub and stuffed it along the bottom.
There was plywood covering up the little broken window over the toilet, and she pounded it until her hands were raw. But it was no use. She was trapped.
She wrapped herself in Nick’s flannel shirt, which still hung on the hook behind bathroom door just where he’d left it, like a symbol of hope that he might return for it one day.
Then she crouched in the corner—crying, praying—and waited to die.
****
Once Maresca kicked Santa out of the building for ruining the party, Nick didn’t even bother to change his clothes. He didn’t want to waste another moment. He only wanted to see Lily.
First, he needed to get his mind around what he would say when she opened the door. If she opened the door. He took the scenic route, giving him more time to update his apology.
Maybe if he told her about the size of his bank account she’d forgive him for everything. He’d even rethink his commitment to the fire department if it meant that much to her. Ideas churned while his tires crawled up the slick slope of Sunflower Summit.
The closer he got to her house, the stronger the familiar acrid odor in the air became. A plume of white filled the inky sky, blocking out the stars. Out of curiosity, he picked up the radio and asked the dispatcher, “Anyone report a fire?”
Without waiting for feedback, he unbuttoned the red jacket as he drove. Pulled off the white beard. Ripped apart the Velcro tabs holding the fake padded belly around his waist. Something in his gut told him it was Lily’s house, and he was right.
“Dammit!”
Sirens in the distance were a mile away when he jumped out of the truck and grabbed his safety gear. He kicked off the Santa boots, then stepped into his firefighting boots. Hiked the trousers over the red pants and shrugged on the suspenders. Whipped the turnout coat over his undershirt. Strapped on his respiratory mask and helmet. Pulled on his gloves. Threw the fireproof blanket over his shoulder. And, with the extinguisher and the Halligan tool in his hands, he ran toward the inferno.
His adrenaline bubble burst once he pried open the front door and a noxious black cloud escaped. He smashed the living room window to release more smoke, but there was still too much to see anything beyond his nose. The extinguisher was ineffective in a case like this; only a hose could control this blaze.
He’d never find Lily if she were unconscious.
Fortifying his heart for the worst-case scenario, he stomped the fiery floor past the kitchen where the blaze raged.
She wasn’t in her room.
Nor his.
He checked the bathroom.
“Nick!
Thank God! His knees felt weak while his spirit lifted. He closed the door to keep the flames out, then tore off the mask and crushed her in a desperate hug. She was wet and shivering under his flannel shirt. “Are you okay?”
“Yes!”
“I gotta get you outta here right now!”
“The window’s boarded from the outside.”
“I know.” Nick took aim with the axe. “It’s gonna be a tight squeeze, but I think you’ll fit.”
“No! I’m going with you.”
“No way.”
“I need you, Nick. We go together, or I’m not going at all.”
There was no use wasting time arguing. “Okay, okay.” Trapped, with no choice except to fight the fire on the other side of the door, he kissed her one more time. “Ready?”
She nodded, not knowing the hell she was about to go through.
“Wait!” She pressed her palms to his chest. “Nick, I didn’t take the pill. I could never do that. I got my period the next day. But I swear I didn’t take it.”
Confused and relieved by her untimely admission, he said, “Well, if we’re making confessions, I bought your house. I was gonna give it to you for Christmas.” Then he covered her head to toe with the blanket, tossed her body over his shoulder like a sack of sugar, and went back into the fire.
Blinded by thick smoke, he couldn’t pass the flames spewing from the kitchen. He held Lily tight, praying the water truck would douse the house any moment.
There was a terrifying crack over the din, then the frighteningly familiar shake, rattle, and roar of the walls coming down.
Chapter Twenty
“Wha…happ…?” Lily’s raw throat produced nothing but a painful whisper as she lie on a gurney in the hospital. She may not have remembered fainting the last time she was here, but this time she had a clear memory of the events that brought her to this place. Again.
What could have started the fire? Ancient electrical wiring? The hot oven? The candle and the curtain?
More importantly—what happened to Nick?
She clawed at the tubes in her nostrils until the nurse anchored her arm to the mattress, while the other arm was already strapped to her chest.
“Take it easy. You’re going to be just fine,” the nurse said.
“What happened?” By the time she found her voice, it was too late. The nurse slipped a sedative into the catheter line taped to her hand. The overhead florescent lights flickered a few times before everything faded to black.
When she woke again, she was alone in a dim room, listening to the low beeps from the monitor beside her bed.
Lily didn’t need anyone to tell her the house had burned down. She smelled the char in her hair. Felt the sticky grime on her skin. Tasted the smoke every time she coughed.
If it wasn’t for Nick...
So, where was he now? That was all she wanted to know.
Please, God, let him be okay. Let. Him. Be. Okay. Please. God.
As the meds wore off, panic rushed in, making Lily’s heart race. The nurse dosed her again without explanation, and she fell back into a comfortably numb sleep without a care in the world, with Nick’s name as the last word on her lips.
****
Nick stood beside Lily as she slept peacefully in the hospital bed. White gauze covered the lacerations on her forehead. She’d survive the broken arm and second-degree burns on her lower legs and feet. Minor injuries that could have been so much worse.
Miraculously, he’d escaped without a scrape, just the win
d knocked out of him from some falling sheetrock.
She suffered the brunt of the damage after he dropped her, then landed on top of her, protecting and injuring her at the same time.
Her house was old, but the solid framework held up better than he’d expected. Thank God.
The girl got lucky.
So did he.
He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, and her eyes fluttered opened.
“Santa?” she mumbled.
He’d slipped back into the red jacket since he had no spare clothes in his truck. “Lily, it’s me, Nick.” Careful of the catheter line, he took her hand and kissed it. “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine…now that you’re here. I was so worried about you.” The monitor registered her rising heartbeat.
“You need to rest. They wanna keep you here a few days for observation. You inhaled some smoke. Got a few burns. But other than that we’re okay.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so much trouble.”
“What are you talking about? You’re no trouble at all.”
She rolled her eyes. “Nick, I burned down the house.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just concentrate on getting better.”
“I feel better already with you here.” A tear rolled down her smudged cheek and he caught it with his fingertip.
“I know exactly how you feel.” He plucked a tissue from the box and dabbed her eyes.
“I need to tell you something...”
“You can tell me tomorrow.”
“No, I have to tell you now. I just want to say…I love you. I was afraid to admit it before, but I’m not afraid any more. I want you to know that. Because I’d regret never telling you how I feel.”
Maybe her words were a side effect from the drugs in her I.V. drip but he’d take them just the same. “That’s what I’ve been telling you all this time. But you didn’t believe me.”
The nurse came in, breaking up their conversation, and hustled him out the door. “Time for Mr. Claus to get back to the North Pole. It’s sleepy time for Mrs. Claus. He can visit again tomorrow.”
****
The next day, Lily felt a little better. It was Christmas Eve, and Nick was here.
He surfed the channels on the tiny television mounted on the wall and found an old time classic, “March of the Wooden Soldiers.” She hadn’t watched it since she was a little girl. It was the scene where the Crooked Old Man makes a claim for Little Bo Peep’s hand in marriage, and in exchange, he’d tear up Old Mother Hubbard’s mortgage.
