Secret Santa

by Fern Michaels

  Decorating complete, and everything prepped for the meal that evening, Barb stepped back to admire her work. She thought of Christmases when she was a girl, in those drab rent houses on the poorer side of town. Even then, she’d been the one to “do” Christmas—the one who cared what things looked like, who tried to hide the ugliness of life around her with paper and ribbons and potpourri. She’d never seen it as a talent, just something she had to do. But here, in this remote little outpost, this could be her contribution to the celebration. Other people could carve toys and assemble scooters and cut trees, but she could set the table and arrange the feast. She could add a little holiday magic they could all enjoy.

  Smiling to herself, she switched off the light and shut the door behind her, then hurried to her own cabin. Jimmy sat at the table, little pieces of something arranged neatly before him. “How was the fishing?” she asked, and kissed his cheek before she shed her coat and sat across from him.

  “Apparently the fish don’t like Spam any more than we do.” He offered a rueful smile. “Sorry. No fresh fish for dinner.”

  “That’s all right.” What would she have done with a fish, anyway, with a ham the size of a stock pot ready to go into the oven? “Did you have a good time?”

  “It was cold and windy and, I don’t know—desolate. Out there on the ice, nothing to see for miles but more ice and snow and trees—it’s hard not to feel insignificant.” He squinted at the item in his hand. “I guess I’m too much of a city guy to feel at home in the wilderness.”

  “That’s a relief. I love visiting Eureka, but I’m not ready to turn rustic. What are you working on?”

  “The fishing reel I was using wasn’t casting smoothly, so I thought I’d see if I could improve the action.”

  “When you were a little boy, did you take all your toys apart and put them back together again?”

  “I did.” He fit two pieces of the reel together and picked up a screwdriver. “I got in trouble for replacing the burned out heating element in our coffee maker, because my mother wanted one of those fancy new espresso machines and my father wouldn’t buy one until the coffee maker we had wore out.”

  “Your parents didn’t understand you.”

  “Do you understand Michael?” He shook his head. “I already know the answer to that—parents never really understand their kids. My father would have been much happier if I’d devoted myself to sports and girls. I can’t tell you how thrilled he was when I took up golf. And when I brought you home he gave me the biggest compliment I ever heard from him.”

  “What was that?”

  Jimmy set aside the reel and smiled at her. “He said, ‘Boy, either she’s after your money or you’re better in the bedroom than I gave you credit for.’ ”

  “I hope you told him it was the latter.” Too bad Ken Stanowski wasn’t still alive. Barb was old enough now that she’d give him hell about such a declaration. Unlike his chilly wife, Ken had always been nice to Barb—nicer than he often was to his son, come to think of it. He’d died of a heart attack more than ten years ago—one more reason Barb was always worried about Jimmy working too hard or being under too much stress.

  “I knew you enjoyed the money, too,” he said. “But there were a lot of men at school with money, and most of them were better looking than me, so I figured you meant it when you said you loved me, and that’s all that really mattered.”

  “I do love you,” she said. “You were the only one of those men who always looked me in the eyes when we talked, and you really listened to what I had to say.”

  “I was looking at your body, too,” he said. “But I was smart enough not to show it.”

  “You devil.”

  He picked up the reel. “My plotting paid off. I got the prettiest co-ed at SMU to marry me and she’s actually stuck around all these years.”

  “I’m certainly not going to go to all the trouble of breaking in a new husband now. And I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be stuck in a snowstorm with.”

  “Let me know when you’re ready for your canned soup.”

  “How about never?”

  He fit another part into the reel. “When we get out of here I think I’m going to pull over at the first steakhouse I see and order the biggest slab of meat they can bring me.”

  “Mmmm. On that thought, let’s wait until after the Posadas procession.”

  “Smart woman. Maybe Mae will have something better than soup for refreshments.”

  “Maybe. After all—it’s Christmas Eve.” She stood. “I think I’m going to take a shower. I feel like dressing up tonight.”

  He glanced at her. “What are you up to?”

  “Why do you think I’m up to something? I just thought it would be fun to dress up for Christmas Eve.”

  “You look very . . . smug. Like someone with a secret.”

  “You’re imagining things.” But she smiled to herself as she turned away, pleased that he still paid attention after all these years. She’d been smart to choose him over the quarterback. And his mother had been wrong—not only was she worthy of Jimmy, she was exactly the woman he needed.

  While Jimmy took his turn in the cabin’s tiny shower, Barb slipped next door to put the ham in the oven. She was back in her place at the table, pretending to read her book, when he emerged from the bathroom, freshly shaved and dressed in a suit. He was better looking now than he’d been when they were kids—a fuller face and graying hair suited him somehow. Impulsively, she leaned in and gave him a deep kiss.

  “Mmmm. What was that for?” he asked.

  “No special reason. I just wanted to kiss you.”

  “I’m happy to oblige, any time.”

  They heard the children singing about five-thirty, and Jimmy opened the door at the first timid knock, to discover they were the first stop on the procession. Roberto had the role of Joseph tonight, and he’d added a new touch to the costume—a long stick, curved at the end like a shepherd’s crook.

  “We have traveled a long way and are very tired,” Roberto said, brown eyes twinkling with excitement. “We have come to ask if you have room for us at the inn.”

  “We have no room at the inn,” Jimmy said, with equal solemnity.

  Roberto’s shoulders sagged. “Then we must keep searching.”

  Barb and Jimmy accepted candles, lit them, and joined the procession as they headed toward Reuben’s cabin, where the request and denial were repeated, then they moved toward Mae’s house. “I forgot something back at our cabin,” Barb whispered to Jimmy.

  “What?”

  “I promised Mae I’d bring her that book I was reading.”

  “You can get it later.”

  “No. I’m afraid I’ll forget. I’ll be right back.” She caught Reuben’s eye, and he nodded, just once. His job was to make sure the little procession continued on to Cabin Four.

  Barb hurried back toward her cabin, but moved past it to the last cabin in line. Inside, she stripped off her coat, then began opening cans and boxes, dumping the contents into pots to heat. With luck, the discussion at Mae’s would take a few extra minutes; Mae might even try to argue with Reuben, and they’d have to wait for her to put on her coat and hat.

  She lit candles, kindling the last tiny flame as singing filled the night outside her door.

  She took a deep breath, then went to answer the knock. “Hello,” she greeted the procession. Adults and children alike stared back at her with expressions of anticipation. “What brings you all out on this cold and lonely night?”

  Elena nudged Roberto. “Oh!” he cried, then composed his face into an expression of adult solemnity. “My wife and I have traveled a long way, and she’s going to have a baby. We want to know if you have room for us at the inn.”

  “Come in.” She opened the door wider. “Come in and make yourselves comfortable and feast. There is plenty of room.”

  They filed in, everyone talking at once, Pearl barking with excitement.

  “Oh boy, it’s a
party!” Roberto cried as he raced past her into the room.

  “It smells good in here.” Carlo raised his nose in the air and sniffed. “Like good food.”

  “Where did you get all of this?” Elena asked.

  “I bet I can guess,” Mae said. “From a certain King’s Grocers truck stuck on the highway.”

  “We kept track and I intend to pay for everything,” Barb said.

  “I never saw a woman get so excited about shopping for groceries,” Reuben said.

  “There’s a ham, and lots of other good things,” Barb said. “And coffee, and even wine, if someone will open the bottles.”

  Jimmy hurried to do the honors. “I can’t believe you did all of this.” Elena stared, as if she expected the bounty to disappear at any moment.

  “Reuben helped,” Barb said.

  Reuben made a snorting sound. “Like I had a choice. The woman won’t take no for an answer.”

  “This is my Christmas gift to all of you,” Barb said.

  Mae accepted a glass of wine from Jimmy. “I hardly recognize this place. You could be a professional party planner.”

  “I could,” Barb agreed. “Except that Houston is overrun with those. Besides, planning other people’s parties wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as planning my own.”

  “You could be a decorator, then.” Mae looked around them. “You’ve made this old cabin look like some fancy bed and breakfast.”

  “That’s an idea.” Barb smiled, but deep inside she felt a tingle, as if something wonderful had happened, though she couldn’t imagine what that might be.

  Elena helped her assemble the rest of the meal, and everyone served themselves and found seats at the table or on the beds. “Reuben, will you say grace for us?” Mae asked.

  To Barb’s surprise, the big man bowed his head. “We’re thankful that we can be together tonight, enjoying this good meal,” he said. “And we’re grateful for this shelter from the storm. Amen.”

  They ate like starving people, or maybe simply people for whom a diet of canned soup had grown dull. Even Pearl enjoyed a special plate of some gourmet dog food Barb had grabbed at the last minute. “She’ll turn up her nose at her kibble tonight,” Mae said, but she didn’t look particularly upset as she helped herself to a third slice of ham.

  Appetite sated, Barb sat back in her chair and surveyed the room. She felt warm and filled and . . . happy. Happier than she had been in a while. Two days ago, she would have said celebrating in this place, so far from where she wanted to be, and with a bunch of strangers, was impossible. But here they all were, and she felt such a tenderness for the people around her, as if they were all family.

  “Merry Christmas, everyone,” she said.

  “Merry Christmas,” they echoed.

  She and Elena enlisted the children to help clear the table, stuffing the plates and cutlery into big trash bags, then arranging the few leftovers in bowls and on platters to fill the cabin’s tiny refrigerator. While they were busy doing this, Ernesto and Jimmy slipped out to play Santa Claus and arrange the boys’ gifts under the tree in their cabin.

  The boys’ eyes were beginning to droop by the time Barb blew out the candles and followed everyone outside. Moonlight illuminated the snowy landscape like a spotlight. Jimmy made a show of examining the ground in front of the Rodriguez’s cabin. “Are those sleigh tracks?” he asked, and pointed to twin lines in the snow.

  Mae came to stand beside him. “I believe they are.” She pointed ahead of the tracks. “And are those reindeer hooves?”

  Barb blinked at a confusion of deer hoofprints clearly marked in the snow. The boys stared, open-mouthed, then Roberto broke into a grin. “Santa Claus!” He turned and raced his brother to the door of Cabin Two. The boys arrived at the same time, and hurried to pull open the door. The adults followed, arriving just in time to witness the discovery of the scooter. “I can’t believe it!” Carlo said. “It’s even cooler than a bike.”

  The boys took turns gliding across the floor on the scooter, before their mother directed their attention to the other gifts. While they exclaimed over the shirts Mae had made and the animals Ernesto had carved, Barb sidled over to Jimmy. “The scooter was a hit,” she said.

  “I think so.” He grinned.

  “If the golf ball recycling doesn’t work out, you can sign on as one of Santa’s helpers.”

  He shook his head. “Too tall.” He put his arm around her. “And how about you? Tonight was amazing. I can’t believe you pulled it off without anyone knowing.”

  “Except Reuben. I couldn’t have done it without his help.”

  “You were the mastermind. You’re very good at organizing people.”

  “You mean I’m bossy. Reuben said the same thing.”

  “No, I mean you’re good at coming up with an idea and making it happen.”

  “Party planning and decorating aren’t going to save me when the zombie apocalypse rolls around.” But her tone was teasing. What did she care about that now?

  “I think you’re wrong,” Jimmy said. “When things are at their bleakest, that’s when we need pleasant surroundings and a good meal the most.”

  “You may have a point.”

  Roberto ran up to her. He was wearing his new cowboy shirt and clutching a carved dog to his chest. “Thank you for the party, Mrs. Stanowski,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.” He threw his arms around her, hugging her knees. She knelt and gathered him close, blinking back a film of tears. The boy pulled back. “Did Santa bring you a present?” he asked.

  “I think he just did.” She patted him and stood. Roberto ran to catch a ride on the scooter, which Carlo was piloting around the room again.

  “Are you ready to call it a night?” Jimmy asked.

  “Yes. I’m tired.” And she was suddenly exhausted. Today had been a lot of work. “Let’s get some rest. After all, tomorrow’s Christmas.”

  “Do you have big plans?” he asked.

  “Yes. I’m going to walk up the highway until I get a phone signal and call Maggie. And Michael. I want to wish my little boy a Merry Christmas, even if he isn’t so little anymore.”

  “That sounds like a plan, then.”

  Chapter Ten

  Christmas morning, Barb awoke to the sound of children’s voices. For a moment, caught in the world between sleeping and waking, she thought she was hearing Michael and a friend, playing in the backyard of the house in Houston. She was ten years younger, and it was time to get up and see to breakfast for the children.

  But then she opened her eyes and stared up at the watermarked ceiling of the cabin and remembered where she was, and why, and she felt a bit of a let down. Where had the years gone?

  “Sounds like the boys are having fun with their new toys.” Jimmy rolled over and pulled her close. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.” She nestled close.

  “Do we have any coffee left?” he asked.

  “Yes. In a bag on the counter.”

  “I never thought I’d be so grateful for coffee,” he said, and slid out of bed, leaving her cold and grumpy.

  But she felt better once she was dressed and sipping the coffee, with generous amounts of sugar and cream. She presented Jimmy with his presents—a contraption to monogram golf balls, and a very nice leather jacket, which he put on immediately. “I got the monogram thingie for your personal golf balls,” she said. “But I suppose you could use it to mark the ones you recycle with the company name or something.”

  “That’s a terrific idea.” He kissed her. “Thank you.”

  “What is the company name?” she asked.

  “What else? We’re calling it Stanowski and Son. The logo is two esses joined by an ampersand. S&S.”

  “Of course.” The obvious pride in his voice made her smile.

  He went to the bed and pulled a box from beneath it. “I already gave you the boots, but there’s this, too.”

>   The box was too large to be jewelry, too small for books or clothes. Perfume, she guessed. Jimmy tended to buy things he was certain she would like, without being too adventurous. She carefully peeled back the paper and lifted the lid. There, in a nest of tissue, lay a silver bell with a carved wooden handle. She lifted it from the box and it sounded a clear chime.

  “Do you like it?” he asked anxiously.

  “It’s beautiful.” She smoothed her thumb over the pattern of birds, leaves and flowers carved into the handle. “But why a bell?”

  He shrugged. “I guess I wanted to get you something beautiful and maybe not very practical. Something besides another bottle of perfume or earrings.”

  So much for thinking he was predictable. Clearly, he was anything but these days. She rang the bell again. The clear chime reverberated through the room and a shiver of anticipation raced up her spine. Maybe this was a sign—a good omen for the future. “I know just what I’m going to do with it,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  She kissed his cheek. “I can’t tell you yet. But I will, soon.” She replaced the bell in its package. “Let’s go outside and see what everyone else is up to.”

  The sun on the snow shone so bright that even wearing sunglasses, Barb had to squint. Carlo wobbled past her on the scooter. “Merry Christmas!” he called.

  “Merry Christmas,” she replied. Roberto raced after his brother, Pearl in his wake, the flag of her tail waving.

  “Merry Christmas,” Elena called. They joined her and Ernesto in front of Cabin Two. “The scooter is a big hit,” she said to Jimmy. “Thank you again.”

  “I had a blast putting it together.”

  “And thank you for the party last night,” Elena said to Barb. “That was a wonderful surprise.”

  “You’re welcome, but I did it as much for myself as for anyone else. It was the one thing I could contribute.”