Christmas in Destiny

by Toni Blake

  It was a dang good idea.

  So dang good that it made him feel bold, almost brave.

  So dang good that . . . he wanted to make it happen right now, right this minute.

  Because when you got right down to it, all we really had was this moment in life. And this brand new desire came with the burning knowledge that he’d waited too long already—he’d let so dang much time pass them by. Shane was right about that. And if he waited—if he waited even one more day, one more hour, all the courage coming over him right now might dwindle away. And he didn’t want that to happen. He wanted to live. He wanted to make the most of his life. He didn’t want to be an old man just sitting around waiting to die when there was so much more living to do.

  “You’re right,” Grampy said decisively. “I’m doin’ it. We ain’t a gettin’ no younger, and Lordy Lord, it’s hittin’ me how dang much time I’ve wasted already.” Then he unzipped his red, fur-trimmed Santa jacket, took it off, and shoved it at Shane.

  “What are you doing?” Shane asked, Santa coat in one hand, finished belt in the other.

  “I’m takin’ Edna on a sleigh ride, that’s what.”

  Shane blinked. “Now?”

  “Yep, now.” Grampy had never felt any compulsion more strongly in his life.

  “But, um, what about this whole Santa gig?” Shane looked a little dumbstruck. “What about all the kids waiting outside?”

  Grampy had just dropped his Santa pants, revealing overalls underneath, yet this halted him in place. Made him realize he was being irresponsible. Making rash decisions.

  But he’d never done that before, not ever—and he didn’t want to stop now that he’d started. Because maybe just every once in a while, rash was good. Rash was decisive. Rash got the job done. “This sleigh ride can’t wait, son,” he told Shane. “I might lose my nerve. Needs to happen now.”

  Shane let out a sigh. “Well, I’m glad you suddenly get the point here, Grampy, but again . . . kids? Santa?”

  Grampy thought the dilemma over for a minute—and the perfect, easy solution hit him. “You do it.”

  “What?”

  “You do it,” he said again.

  “Me?”

  “Yep.” This seemed way simpler than Shane was making it.

  “Uh, I’m not the right guy for that,” his young friend claimed. “I mean . . . don’t take this the wrong way, but . . . you’re a little bigger in the belly region than me.”

  At this, Grampy just swiped a dismissive hand down through the air. “Why, I’m sure Miss Ellie has a throw pillow you can shove up under the coat. Tighten up the belt you just fixed and that oughta hold it in place.”

  “I never should have fixed the damn belt,” Shane muttered. “And trust me—no one’s gonna believe I’m freaking Santa Claus.”

  “ ’Course you shoulda.” Grampy dropped his red hat on the bed. “And it’s the outfit and attitude that makes a fella Santa—not whether he’s fat or skinny.”

  “Well, I have a bad attitude,” he said—yet that only made Grampy laugh.

  “Adam Becker filled in for me a few years back and nobody was the wiser.” He finished with a brisk nod.

  “Yeah, well, Adam Becker is a dad. I’m not. And I’m bad with kids.”

  Grampy refused to let Shane’s naysaying wear him down, though. “No time like the present to change that,” he insisted. And with that, he removed the last piece of the costume over his head—the fluffy white beard. He laid it over Shane’s forearm, suffering only a tiny hint of guilt—and feeling more exuberant about life than he could remember in a long time. Edna and the sleigh awaited him.

  He slapped Shane on the back, saying, “Wish me luck, son!” and headed out the door—to his future.

  Shane just stood there, staring at the pieces of Santa costume that littered the bedroom. It looked like Santa Claus had exploded.

  Just then, the door reopened—and he lifted his gaze, hoping to see Grampy had come to his senses. But instead it was only Candy.

  “What the hell happened in here?” she asked, taking in the strewn costume. “And where’s Grampy? The natives are getting restless out there.”

  “He left,” Shane said dejectedly.

  Her expression went grave. “Left? What do you mean left?”

  “He’s gone to try to romance Edna.”

  “Romance Edna?” Candy leaned slightly forward now. “Since when does Grampy romance Edna? And he had to do this now?”

  “Maybe since I suggested it,” Shane admitted. Then he met her look with his own. “But trust me, the now part was all his idea.”

  Candy sighed, plopping down on a frilly quilted bedspread. “Well, what on earth are we going to do? Especially after that grand entrance he made. The kids are expecting Santa Claus.”

  “The old man had the crazy idea I could do it,” Shane told her, shaking his head. “He totally didn’t get how insane that is.”

  At this, however, Candy gazed up at him, tilting her head first one way, then the other.

  And he felt the sudden need to go on. “I mean, Santa’s old and white-haired. I’m not. Santa’s a jolly old soul. I’m not. Santa has a belly like a bowl full of jelly. I don’t. You’re seeing my point here, right?”

  When she stayed quiet, though, he knew he was in trouble. Especially when she scrunched up her cute little nose and said, “Really, it kind of makes sense.”

  Shane glared at her. “Makes sense? In what crazy-ass world does it make sense?”

  “Well, someone has to do it. And none of the kids know you—any of the other men in town they might recognize.”

  Shane thought about other arguments he could make. That apparently they hadn’t recognized Adam Becker a few years ago, so really, anyone could do it. That he had no fucking idea how to talk to kids. That he would look ridiculous and never be able to pull this off. But he could already feel it was a lost cause.

  So instead he just said, “This is a nightmare.” Then pointed a finger at her. “And if anybody was trying to get me to stay, this isn’t the way.”

  And for some reason, it surprised him when she merely shrugged and said, “You’re not staying anyway, remember? You’re just passing through on your way to Miami. Now come on—let’s get you in this suit and out in that gazebo before the little kids start rioting.”

  Nineteen

  “It’s a miracle!”

  Mary Bailey, It’s a Wonderful Life

  Shane felt like a stranger in a strange land—not to mention a colossal idiot—as he meandered out into the snow-covered garden. How the hell had this happened?

  There were a lot of things about Destiny he’d admittedly come to like: Candy, Grampy, Edna, the guys he’d gotten to know through repairing the church, the whole sense of community—and despite himself, he even kind of liked how into Christmas they were. But how had getting stranded here in a blizzard led to this surreal moment: him in a baggy Santa suit, a pillow strapped to his stomach, and an itchy fake beard on his face, saying a pretty weak-sounding, “Ho-ho-ho,” as he made his way to the gazebo?

  But then the strangest damn thing happened. All the little kids in the garden, all wrapped up in their little coats and hats, looked up at him—at his entry—like he was the coolest thing they’d ever seen. Okay, maybe a few of them—on closer inspection—appeared slightly terrified. But mostly, they were in awe. And he swallowed nervously, realizing what this meant. Oh shit, I have to really do this. I have to do a good job. I have to make them believe and not ruin their Christmas. What the hell had Grampy been thinking, handing off such an important task to him?

  Yet then he understood. He thinks I’m a better guy than I really am. I’ve maybe . . . seemed like a better guy than I really am. Because something about this place, these people, have made me a better guy than I really am. But maybe something in that was . . . real, or at least . . . changing. Because he was pretty sure a month ago he wouldn’t have given a shit about letting down a bunch of little kids, especially in a
situation he’d been dragged into kicking and screaming—and now, for some reason, he did.

  And when he made eye contact with Candy, standing near the big Santa chair in the gazebo, he knew it was because of her. He didn’t want to let her down. He didn’t want her to think he was a bad guy anymore. Whether or not it was really true.

  “Come on over and take a seat here, Santa,” Candy said in a loud voice, clearly designed more for the kids to hear than for him. “Santa is super excited to be here today—aren’t you, Santa?”

  He silently thanked her for feeding him a line, even a simple one—because he so didn’t know how to do this. But as he entered the gazebo and sat down on the big red Santa throne, he tried to project his voice and speak deeper as he said to the children waiting in line, “Yes, yes, Candy—I sure am!”

  He saw Rachel Farris, standing with her husband and little girl, look to Tessa Romo next to her and silently mouth, Candy? Because, crap, no one here called her that but him. But he didn’t care—he kept going. “I can’t wait to meet all these little . . . whippersnappers.” That seemed like what Grampy would say. “And hear what they want me to bring them on Christmas Eve.”

  “I wonder if they’ve all been good little girls and boys,” Candy said loudly, shifting her smile from him out into the crowd.

  “I sure hope so!” he said. Then looked out at the sea of kids to ask, “Have you all been good this year?”

  A chorus of yeses sang out, but he actually heard one little boy say, “No,” another say, “Not really,” and a third announce sadly, “I tried, but I probably wasn’t very good.” It made him laugh softly behind the fake white beard, and decide that when those particular kids reached him, he’d have to say something to boost their confidence and let them know it was okay and that they really probably weren’t so bad after all.

  “Well, we’d better get things started here,” he said, dropping his gaze to the first child in line, a little girl of six or seven, wearing a hot pink parka and furry snow boots. “Come on up and sit on Santa’s lap, little girl.”

  She did so, situating herself on his knee like an old pro at it—and they both looked at her mother as she snapped a few pictures.

  Then he said, “Tell me what you’d like for Christmas.” And so it began . . .

  Candice watched as Shane played each child like a violin. He’d had a shaky start, but the transformation into an effective Santa had happened quickly, leaving her completely amazed. She saw a side of Shane she’d never have imagined as he welcomed each child up into the gazebo—and as it continued, she suspected maybe it was a side he’d never even seen himself.

  He asked each kid if they’d been good this year, and when little tow-headed Caleb Johnson said he kept getting in trouble at school, Shane actually fell into counseling him a little. “Santa knows what that’s like, Caleb, and the important thing is that you just try your best. If you’re trying your best, then you’re on Santa’s nice list.”

  “Really?” Caleb asked, wide-eyed.

  “Really,” Santa Shane assured him.

  “So you’ll still bring me a baseball bat and mitt?”

  A quick glance from Shane toward Caleb’s mom earned a subtle nod that allowed him to say, “Why, of course I’ll bring you a bat and mitt. Just be careful not to play ball too close to any houses.”

  “I will—I promise!” Caleb answered excitedly.

  By the time he left, Candice could tell Caleb’s mother was pleased, as were many other parents. Most of them didn’t know who the heck this Santa was—since it was pretty easy to see it wasn’t Grampy—but no one really cared so long as their kid left Santa’s lap happy.

  After a while, Tessa took over elf duties, allowing Candice to go grab a cup of hot chocolate and stand near one the outdoor space heaters set up in the garden.

  “Is that your new boyfriend up there?” Sue Ann stepped up to ask as Candice situated herself next to a few snow-covered holly bushes to watch the continuing Santa show from a distance.

  She was glad the cold air probably already had her cheeks pink as she replied, “Well, boyfriend might be a strong term, given that he’s leaving soon—but . . . yeah.”

  Sue Ann smiled. “He’s doing a great job.”

  “I know,” Candice agreed. “Especially without having any warning. Grampy just dropped his costume at Shane’s feet and asked him to fill in—no notice.”

  Sue Ann lifted a cup of hot chocolate to her lips, took a sip, then gestured vaguely toward the road. “Yeah, I saw him and Edna take off in the sleigh a little while ago. What’s that about?”

  Candice had no idea if this was supposed to be a secret—but she hadn’t been asked not to say anything, so she assumed it was okay to share. “Well,” she said, “seems like there might be romance in the winter air for more than just me and Shane.”

  Sue Ann’s eyes bolted open wide. “Grampy and Edna?”

  “That seems to be the hope. On Grampy’s side anyway.”

  “Wow. That never even occurred to me. But . . .” She tilted her head. “Makes sense in a way.”

  Candice hadn’t really had a chance to think about it yet, but she couldn’t refute Sue Ann’s words. “I suppose it does. But I guess the big question is—will Edna feel the same way?”

  Sue Ann gave her head a thoughtful tilt. “It would probably be hard at that age. To change things like that. To take those kinds of emotional risks. I mean, relationships are complicated.”

  “I think it can be hard at any age,” Candice said. “For some people anyway.” She knew some women at least appeared to drift breezily in and out of relationships with total ease—but for her, it had always been harder. And part of that had been Bobby’s fault, but part of it was simply the way she was put together. When she connected with someone, it was a strong bond, not easily severed.

  And even without having said any of that, Sue Ann seemed to read her thoughts loud and clear. “So this thing with Shane—are you gonna be okay when he leaves?”

  She didn’t know Sue Ann as well as she knew some of the girls, but she’d always liked her matter-of-fact way and independent spirit. So she decided to be her usual honest self and said, “Probably not. But I went into it with my eyes wide open and won’t have any regrets.”

  Sue Ann let those words settle in the cold air around them for a moment before saying, “Well, maybe someone else will come along. Maybe Shane is just . . . getting you warmed up for the next big thing.”

  Candice smiled. It was a nice idea. A fun idea, an idea that made this sound easy, like the simple little fling all her girlfriends had suggested. But inside she knew . . . this was the big thing, and Shane had her more than a little warmed up.

  What she felt for him was the real deal. She knew this was fast, but she also knew sometimes things like this just happened that way, like a lightning bolt—which could apparently strike even in winter.

  And her attachment to him had only grown with each passing minute this afternoon. Laughing with him on the ice, the way he’d kissed her in thanks for the gloves, and now watching him play Santa Claus for every little kid in Destiny.

  Time and experience had shown her that a good man was hard to find. And no matter what Shane thought, she knew in her heart that he was a good man, and she’d found him. And the only problem at all was knowing he was leaving.

  She’d accepted that all along. Even if she’d suggested a time or two that he stay, she’d known his departure was part of the package.

  And then today as he’d unwillingly put on the Santa suit, he’d said something about staying, something that had almost sounded like he was thinking about it.

  But don’t even go there. Start thinking he might and it’ll only hurt worse when he doesn’t. He was Miami-bound for a job she suspected was beneath him and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Just then, she looked up to see a welcome sight—Anita Garey and Walter Tolliver entered the garden gate only steps away. Both women instantly went to greet them
and Candice said, “It’s so good to see you two. Welcome to the party!”

  They exchanged pleasantries, Anita saying what a nice job Candice had done with it, and Candice and Sue Ann commenting how wonderful it was that the wedding could take place as scheduled. Anita smiled and talked about her relief, and what a happy day it would be for her to finally make Walter her husband.

  And yet, to her surprise, Candice thought Anita didn’t seem as happy as she wanted them to think.

  Anita rose on her tiptoes to check out the line of kids still waiting to see Santa. “Looks like we’re in time to watch Dustin sit on the big guy’s lap,” she told Walter, a heavyset, gray-mustached man. But then she squinted, adding, “Though that guy doesn’t look so big.”

  “An understudy,” Candice explained.

  Then Sue Ann told them Grampy had had to step out unexpectedly and someone else had filled in.

  Anita took Walter’s gloved hand in hers and said, “Let’s go up and see our little man.”

  When they were gone, Candice said to Sue Ann, “Is it just me, or . . . ?”

  And Sue Ann shook her head. “No, it’s not just you.”

  “I thought she’d be so happy.”

  In response, Sue Ann pursed her lips. Then confided, “Well, this is kind of a secret, but . . . Jenny told me that even as relieved as Anita is about the wedding that she’s also bummed out because . . . apparently she has a son she hasn’t seen in over twenty years or something.”

  Candice nodded. “Oh—yeah, I heard about that from Jenny once, too.”

  “Jenny said that just has her a little down, that it’s been on her mind, along with everything else, as the wedding got closer.”

  “Well, at least she has Dustin now,” Candice said. “Not the same, I know—but you can tell how much he means to her, that maybe he fills that void a little.”

  They both looked toward the gazebo then to see Jenny walking little Dustin up to sit on Shane’s lap.

  “Well, who’s this handsome little whippersnapper?” she heard Shane ask.