“Mrs. Santa?” a nurse said as Lena emerged from the elevator.
Lena smiled. “Yes?”
The nurse blinked. “You really do look like Mrs. Santa.”
“And you were expecting . . . ?”
The nurse giggled. “Are you here to see someone in particular?”
“Cassidy Harrington in room 408.”
She pointed. “Four doors down.”
The jingle of the bells sounded loud in the quiet corridor. When she got to room 408, she found Cassidy sleeping, a couple of tubes coming from her arm. Lena set her coat and purse down then went over to the sink and carefully scrubbed her hands in soap and hot water, humming “Jingle Bells” quietly under her breath until she was done. She knew enough about illnesses and germs to know that poor Cassidy didn’t need to be exposed to anything that Lena might’ve picked up at the library.
She dried her hands then went over to stand by Cassidy. So pale and fragile looking . . . and young. And with the thick auburn hair, which Lena had suspected was a wig, now sitting on a wig stand over by the window, Cassidy’s pale, rounded head reminded Lena of a baby bird. It was covered with short, soft fuzz about the color of a ripe peach. Lena was tempted to touch it but didn’t want to scare the girl.
“Sweet Cassidy,” she said quietly. “I have missed you so much.”
Cassidy opened her eyes and looked up. “Mrs. Santa.”
Lena smiled and reached for her hand. “Yes.”
“You came.”
“Of course I came. Wild reindeer couldn’t keep me away.”
“How was the trip?”
“Well, you know how it is at the North Pole these days. Busy busy. So busy that I had to come on the bus.”
Cassidy smiled. “I like your new outfit.” She reached over and jingled a bell. “Nice touch.”
“I figured what was good for Santa was good for me. And now you can hear me coming.” She put her other hand over Cassidy’s, holding it between her own. “You’ve got to get well, you know.”
“I know.” Cassidy sighed. “Believe me, I want to get well.”
“I hear you’ll be out of here tomorrow.”
She nodded then looked at Lena with curious aquamarine eyes. “Why did you quit being Mrs. Santa? Was it something I did?”
“Of course not,” Lena said quickly. “It was more something that I did . . . or didn’t do. It’s kind of a long story, but I’m not sure we should go into it right now. I don’t want to wear you out.”
“Please, tell me, Lena.”
Lena still wasn’t sure.
“Please . . . I want to know.”
“All right.” Lena nodded firmly. “I’ll try to tell the condensed version.” She began the story about being blamed for doing something she hadn’t done, and how she hadn’t fought it and then it was too late. “You see, I was so hurt by the people I thought I could trust, people I had believed loved me, it’s like I didn’t even care if I was sent to prison. It didn’t even matter.”
“Because your heart was broken,” Cassidy said.
“Yes.” Lena sighed. “My heart really was broken. And it turned cold and hard in prison. When I was let out of prison, I didn’t want to return to my hometown. There really wasn’t anyone or anything there for me. So I came to New Haven for a fresh start. A woman who volunteered at the prison set it up for me. She told me I’d find work in your family’s department store, but when I got there, it looked like there was no job.”
“And that’s when I met you?”
“Exactamundo.”
Cassidy smiled. “You had on your red Santa coat and those great red shoes, and you really looked just like Mrs. Santa.”
Lena smiled back. “And after a few days at the North Pole, I actually felt like Mrs. Santa. My cold heart was quickly defrosting. I loved working with you and being with the children. It made me feel alive again.”
“That’s why I don’t get it. Why did you leave then?”
“Well, I hadn’t been completely honest on my job application. Where it asked if I’d committed a crime, I wrote this tiny note about it. I suppose I was trying to cover it up. I know now that it was stupid. I should’ve just told your mom from the beginning that I’d been in prison.”
“But then she wouldn’t have hired you.”
Lena nodded. “That’s what I was worried about. Even so, honesty would’ve been the best policy.”
“Maybe . . . but I wouldn’t have gotten to know you.”
Lena shrugged.
“So my mom fired you?”
“She was kind of forced to do it. A woman I’d known in my other town – who knew about my past and believed I’d been guilty – saw me playing Mrs. Santa. She wrote your mom a letter saying she should get rid of me.”
“Oh.” Cassidy nodded. “That makes sense. Because I know my mom liked you, Lena. She’d even said she did. And she doesn’t like everyone.”
Lena held up her hands. “So that’s the story. That’s what happened.”
“I feel better knowing the whole story.” Cassidy let out a long sigh. “I wish Mom would’ve just told me the truth.”
“I’m sure she wanted to protect you.”
“Because I’m sick . . . she worries too much.” Cassidy frowned.
To change the subject, Lena told Cassidy about the library visit. She even told her about the reporter and the angry mom.
“Just because you read a book about Jesus being born in a stable?”
Lena nodded. “I tried to explain how Santa was actually a very godly man, but they didn’t want to listen.”
Cassidy chuckled. “I can just imagine Mrs. Santa explaining about Santa and God.” Now she got more serious. “So . . . do you believe in God, Lena? I mean for real?”
“I’ll admit that I had quit believing – back when everyone turned against me and I was blamed for something I hadn’t done. I couldn’t imagine what kind of God would allow something like that to happen.”
“Kind of like getting leukemia.”
Lena felt a jolt of realization. She slowly nodded. “Yes, kind of like getting leukemia.”
“Like what did I do to deserve this?” Cassidy murmured.
“Exactly.”
“See, I knew we had something in common.” Cassidy grinned. “Besides Mrs. Santa, I mean.”
“I felt connected to you right from the beginning,” Lena admitted. “I just wasn’t sure why.”
They continued talking, but Lena could tell Cassidy was getting sleepy. “I’m going to let you get some rest now.”
“Will you come see me again?”
“I’ll do my best.” Lena blew her a kiss then gathered her things and quietly left, saying a silent prayer for the sick girl as she headed down the hall.
“See.” The nurse who had spoken to Lena earlier nudged a woman in scrubs. “I told you it was Mrs. Santa.” They both approached Lena. “I was telling Dr. Stone that Mrs. Santa was visiting Cassidy and she didn’t believe me,” the nurse told Lena.
“You’re a friend of Cassidy’s?” Dr. Stone asked.
“Yes. Are you her doctor?”
She nodded and adjusted her stethoscope.
“Is she going to be okay?”
Dr. Stone looked uncertain. “She’s going to be okay for now. But it’s hard to give a real prognosis. What she really needs is a bone marrow transplant, but so far we haven’t managed to locate a match.”
“How does that work anyway? I mean finding a match?”
Dr. Stone quickly explained how a potential donor allowed a bone marrow sample to be taken and then how that information was placed on a national list that doctors accessed in hopes of finding a match for patients. “Sometimes it takes a while.”
“I’d like to be a donor,” Lena said suddenly.
The doctor nodded to the nurse. “Kathy probably has some information about how to join the program.”
“Sure,” Kathy told her. “Come to the nurses’ station and I’ll get it for you.” She w
ent back and rummaged through a desk, returning with a pamphlet. “Odds are against that you’d be a match for Cassidy. But you might match someone else in another part of the country. And the more people we get signed up, the better it is for all patients who are waiting.” Kathy’s eyes lit up. “Hey, if the word got out that Mrs. Santa was a donor, maybe others would sign up too.”
“Maybe I should notify the presses.” Lena was only partly joking.
“Yeah, you should.” She handed her the pamphlet. “And speaking of Mrs. Santa . . . I was wondering if you’d have time to stop by the children’s ward sometime between now and Christmas. You know, to cheer them up.”
“I’d love to,” Lena said.
Kathy reached for a piece of paper. “Call this woman and tell her I spoke to you. Maybe she’d want you to come for the Christmas party.”
Lena slipped it into her purse. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
As Lena rode down the elevator, she wondered how many ways she could put Mrs. Santa to use. Maybe being fired from Harrington’s wasn’t the worst thing to happen after all. But it would be nice if she could do more than just volunteer. It was fun and fulfilling helping others, but, like Lucy had warned a while back, Lena’s rent money was still due at Christmas. And even Mrs. Santa would be expected to pay up.
CHAPTER
15
By the time Lena got back down to the lobby, only Sam was there waiting for her. “Where are the elves?” she asked him.
A young man with a toddler on his lap looked curiously at her. “You lost your elves?”
She put a finger on her chin. “Well, I’m sure they were right here when I went upstairs.”
The man chuckled as the toddler held out her hands toward Lena. She winked at the child then turned back to Sam.
“Yes, the elves are gone,” he said. “Jemima was getting hungry. So Beth called my mom and asked if they could come visit her for a while. Beth offered to babysit Jemima until you got back.” He stood, setting down a well-worn news magazine.
“That was nice of Beth and Moira.”
“Mom swung by and picked them up about ten minutes ago.”
“How is your mom anyway?” It had been almost a week since Lena had seen Moira. And she’d wondered how her kind mentor would react to all that had been in the news these last few days. Hopefully Moira wasn’t embarrassed by it.
“Mom’s fine. She sends you her best.”
“She’s such a wonderful person.”
“So . . . are you ready to talk?” he asked as he held the door for her.
“I suppose so.” She frowned as they walked outside. The wind was blowing hard and it felt like snow was in the air.
“How about if we go to my office?”
“That’s fine.” She pulled her coat more tightly around her, wondering what she was getting herself into.
As Sam drove her through town, he confessed to having had a long conversation with his mother on Thursday night. “I told her about what happened at Harrington’s,” he admitted. “I felt she had the right to know . . . you know, since she’d been helping you.”
“Yes, I wanted her to know, but I’d been wondering how I’d explain it to her. She had such high expectations for me to make something of my life . . . and then I failed.”
“After I told her about the firing, well, she told me your story. I hope you don’t mind.”
Lena shrugged. “Not really. I’d hoped to keep this whole thing under wraps at first. You know, the crazy dream of getting a fresh start. I figured the whole prison thing was over and done with – why not forget it? But apparently that’s not the way it works.”
“Unfortunately, that’s usually the situation.”
“So now I’m telling anyone who wants to know. Well, as long as I’m not playing Mrs. Santa. She’s her own character with no prison background to hide.” She kind of laughed. “Maybe that’s why I like being Mrs. Santa so much.”
“Speaking of Mrs. Santa, was Cassidy glad to see you?”
“We were both glad to see each other. We had a nice visit and I told Cassidy the truth. I just hope Camilla doesn’t find out and file a restraining order on me.”
“I promised to handle that and I will.”
A shock wave ran through her. Sam’s words were chillingly similar to what Daniel had promised her . . . and not just once. What if she was falling into some new kind of trap? What if, once again, she was trusting the wrong person? Oh, why had she let her guard down so easily?
“Here we are,” he said as he parked in front of a rather ordinary craftsman-style two-story house.
“This is your office?” She looked up at the brown building suspiciously.
“The downstairs is mine. The upstairs is rented to a couple of psychiatrists.”
“That’s handy,” she said as they went up the walk. “You sue ’em and they soothe ’em. Or maybe it’s vice versa.”
He laughed as he unlocked the front door. “Mrs. Santa is a witty woman.”
“Surely you wouldn’t expect Mr. Santa to marry an old stick in the mud.”
“No, of course not.” He flipped on a light switch. “Right this way.”
Soon they were seated in an attractive and comfortable office, with him behind the desk and her in one of the leather club chairs opposite him.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked.
She still had her coat on yet felt slightly chilled. Or maybe it was nerves. “I’m okay, I guess.”
“I’ll turn the fireplace on anyway.” He held up a remote and the flames instantly leaped into action.
“Now there’s something you don’t see much of at the North Pole.”
He smiled as he set a file folder on his neat desk. “I’ve been doing a little research, Lena.”
“What kind of research?” She folded her arms in front of her, reminding herself to be wary.
“I’ve been checking out your story.”
“Because you didn’t believe I told your mother the truth?”
“No . . . because I wanted to help you.”
Again, this felt unnervingly familiar. It was so similar to how Daniel had treated her, acting like he was smart and in control and about to save the little woman, when all along he was getting ready to put her away for a long, long time.
“Okay, before we get too far along here,” he said, “I think I owe you a genuine apology. And not like the one I gave you at my mother’s house a couple of weeks ago.”
“Oh?” She cocked her head to one side and waited.
“Look, Lena, I’m truly sorry for being so suspicious. You didn’t deserve that. But the truth is I’d just been winding down a lawsuit for an elderly woman who’d been severely misled and used by a younger woman she’d befriended. I’m sure I was simply superimposing that situation onto my mother. Please forgive me.”
Lena remembered what she’d told the children in the library – how everyone makes mistakes and how everyone needs to be forgiven. “I forgive you,” she said resolutely. “And now let’s forget it, okay?”
He looked surprised. “Okay.” He opened the folder. “Thanks to the wonderful world wide web and a good detective friend, I’ve learned quite a bit these past couple of days.”
“Quite a bit about me, you mean?”
“Indirectly, yes. More than that, I’ve learned a lot about your ex-husband Daniel Markham. Aka Daniel Washington and Alex Johnson and a few other alibis.”
“What?” She leaned forward and stared at him.
“Your ex-husband had several assumed names.”
“Seriously?” She blinked.
“Very seriously. He was also wanted in another state.”
“For what?”
“A number of things. Insurance fraud, embezzlement, falsifying documents . . . it’s quite a long list.”
Lena sat back. She was too stunned to reply.
“You had no idea, did you?”
She shook her head. “Oh, I knew he was a liar
and a thief . . . I mean I found out eventually, after I was sentenced. But I honestly thought his criminal acts were limited to me. The truth is I believed I was part of the problem, maybe even partially to blame. Perhaps if I’d been a better wife or – ”
“Do not blame yourself. You need to grasp that this man is a lowlife. A dirty, low-down criminal. You simply got caught in his nasty take-the-money-and-run game. And from what my mother told me, your father helped to push you into Daniel’s web of deceit. Not that I’m suggesting your father knew this guy was a crook.”
“No, I’m sure he didn’t. Even after I tried to convince my parents of my innocence, my father still believed in Daniel . . . and my mother, well, she was too afraid to stand against him.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for you.” Sam looked at her with compassionate eyes. “And that explains why you didn’t have the strength to fight it.”
She shook her head. “It seemed like there was nothing to fight for . . . nothing to go back to . . . no one who cared.” She felt a large lump growing in her throat, but she was determined not to cry.
“So you do your time and get out of prison. All you want is a fresh start. And you actually do a brilliant job of becoming New Haven’s beloved Mrs. Santa, and the next thing you know someone is kicking you down again. Right?”
She nodded.
“Including me.”
She shook her finger at him. “I said we’d forget it.”
“Thank you.” He gave her a sad smile.
“But I’ve figured some things out,” she said quickly. “Even though some people kicked me down, there were a lot who didn’t. There are good people in this town. And even after the bit about me being a felon hit the news, I still had a few people who supported me.” She remembered the girl in the coffee shop with the happy face tattoo. “And that meant a lot.”
“So maybe New Haven isn’t all bad.”
“No, of course not,” Lena said. “Now tell me more about my skunk of an ex-husband. Has he ever been prosecuted for any of those crimes?”
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