by Ginny Baird
Just because they’d each shared a bit about their personal lives didn’t mean that they’d taken things to the next level. Even if they had, the next level up from work colleagues was friendship, not romance. He wasn’t looking for romance anyway. Which was exactly why he needed to apologize to Mary this morning and clear the air.
Mary arrived at the courthouse at a little past nine. She had a package of index cards in her satchel and each one had a parade participant’s name on it. Her first order of business was to finalize the parade lineup so she could email the parade entries and advise them of their order number. She had volunteers slated to direct the lineup in the morning, and they would help parade participants get to the right place based on their number.
The parade was going to last for one hour and there were sixty-eight entries, including the marching band and other musical groups who’d signed on. The mayor would ride on the lead float, following the marching band playing Christmas tunes. The town council members would proceed on their float next, serving as parade marshals. Santa’s sleigh was last, and the grand finale bringing up the rear of the parade. The order of everything in the middle still needed to be worked out.
Mary climbed the stairs to the second floor and headed down the hall. Connie had told her she’d be working in the conference room opposite the elevators, which she found easily. It had a long conference table, perfect for laying out her note cards and also great for organizing the souvenirs once she unpacked them. She thought the boxes had been delivered to Evan’s office, but someone had apparently moved them here. She goggled at the huge stacks of boxes piled next to each other. They took up half the room.
Don’t panic. It will all be fine. Everybody loves T-shirts.
“Morning!”
She turned to find Evan standing on the threshold and wearing his uniform. He’d left his hat in his office.
“Evan, hey.”
He shot her a cockeyed grin. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”
“Yes, it is,” she answered, trying to sound cheery.
“My mom said you might need my help unpacking some of those boxes?”
“Oh, well…” Her gaze trailed back across the room and she nervously counted the stacks. “That might go faster with your help.”
“No worries.” He strode to the pile and lifted a box, hauling it over to the table. Mary noted that a flatter oblong box was already there, and she wondered what it was.
“Uh, wait!” She stopped Evan from opening the big box, and he glanced over his shoulder. “Do you think we could start after lunch?”
“If that’s better.”
“Yeah. I need to finalize the lineup this morning and get an email out to all the entries.”
“All right. Why don’t you just come and get me when you’re ready?” She nodded, but he hesitated in the doorway.
“Mary,” he said, “about last night—”
“Amazing ballet! Your niece Chloe was just precious.”
“Yeah.” He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.” She figured he had, which was why she’d tried to preempt it. And failed. She knew she’d behaved badly at the ballet, and he’d probably been thrown by her dismissive attitude. It was all because of the guilt that was eating her up. Guilt over disappointing Evan and letting down the town.
“It’s about Monday,” Evan said.
“You mean, the ice skating?” she asked, surprised. They’d had a super time, which—when she thought about it—probably made the way she’d acted last night seem doubly confusing.
“Yeah, that.” He viewed her sincerely. “Look, I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention. I know we’re working together, as colleagues and all, but after you brought me that Christmas tree, I felt like things had changed between us. That we’d started forming a friendship, maybe something more. I really apologize if I was wrong.”
Her heart pounded in a painful rhythm. He was trying so hard and was such a great guy. She couldn’t lie to him. He didn’t deserve it. “Evan,” she said softly. “You weren’t wrong.”
The tense lines in his forehead eased, but his eyes glimmered with worry.
“I sensed the change between us, too,” she said. “I’m sorry I was weird last night. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve got a lot on my mind. There’s tons going on with this parade that I’ve got to get organized.” And corrected, so I don’t bankrupt Clark Creek. And anger the higher-ups at Davenport. And ultimately lose my job. And you. She felt overheated in her coat, and removed it, hanging over one of the conference table chairs.
“Of course.”
She set her satchel on the table next to the oblong box and pulled out her index cards.
“I hate to add one more stressor to your day,” he said, “but my mom dropped by this morning with some bad news.”
She stopped sifting through the cards and looked up. What now?
“My dad’s come down ill.”
Mary frowned. “Poor Jesse. Is it serious?”
“Mom thinks a twenty-four-hour thing, but they’re not sure.”
She blanched, then reached for the oblong box, very gingerly pulling up its lid on one side. Velvety red material greeted her, along with a bunch of fluffy white trim and a wide black belt. Her pulse spiked. “I’ve lost my Santa, haven’t I?”
Of course she had. As if overrunning the town budget by tens of thousands of dollars wasn’t enough. Now, she’d lost the star of the parade. She tried not to imagine anything else going wrong because she didn’t want to invite trouble, and she’d always heard it came in threes.
“I’m sure you’ll find another one,” Evan said.
“By tomorrow? Who?”
“Maybe Marshall?”
“He’s offering refreshments at his inn.”
“How about Nash?”
“Then what will he do with Chloe? He’s taking her to the parade.”
Her mind whirled in a panic, then her eyes locked on his. Given his buff frame and body, he wasn’t the best fit for the job, but maybe with sufficient padding and a fake beard…
“Oh, no.” He held up both hands, backing out of the room. “I’m sorry. Not me. I don’t do jolly.”
He was probably being honest there.
“Besides, I’m already on duty with crowd control.”
She knew he was right. He was the sheriff, with sheriff-like duties to perform. Mary sank down in a chair, trying not to let tension overwhelm her. Still, her nerves felt raw and her emotions on edge. Maybe if she counted to ten and focused on clearing her mind, she’d feel calmer. She shut her eyes and tried some deep breathing, but that only made her lightheaded. Maybe she was drawing in too much air and hyperventilating.
“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
“Yeah, thanks. Fine.”
After a few minutes she opened her eyes, and he was still there staring at her.
“Is there, um…something I can do? Maybe get you a glass of water?”
“No thanks.” She pulled a water bottle from her satchel. “Got some, right here.”
Evan walked back to his office, thinking he’d never seen Mary looking so stressed. Granted, losing her Santa last-minute wasn’t ideal, but the situation wasn’t insurmountable. Although it was kind of hard to know who would replace his dad. Anyone that Evan could think of who might fit the bill was already participating in the parade in some way, either as a parade entry or as one of the volunteers.
Itzel sat at her desk in the reception area typing on her computer. Mary’s stand of reindeer was beside her. She apparently didn’t mind the sculpture taking up a third of her desk—and maybe he shouldn’t have minded, either. When he thought about it, he realized he’d been unappreciative of Mary’s early gifts. He appreciated a lot more about her now, though. Including how upset she was about losing her Santa.
“I heard about your dad,” Itzel said. “I’m sorry he’s sick.”
Evan poured himself some coffee from the pot on the counter. “Yeah, me too.”
“Mary’s got to be freaking with the parade happening tomorrow.”
“It is a very last-minute change.”
Itzel blinked like she’d had a brainstorm. “Maybe you should do it?”
“Me? Play Santa?” He shook his head. “Don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
Evan sipped from his coffee. “I’m on duty.”
“Can’t Dennis take over for you?”
“He’s already serving as my deputy.”
“So, promote him temporarily.” She grinned broadly. “And deputize me!”
Evan set aside Itzel’s crazy suggestion and carried his coffee back to his office, shutting his door. While he didn’t often close it, he needed time to think.
Apart from his mom, he’d never seen anybody who loved Christmas as much as Mary. Maybe it had to do with the nomadic life she’d led as a kid. Christmas traditions are all about home and family, and it didn’t seem like she’d grown up feeling like she’d had much of either. It made him sad to think she still didn’t have any place she counted as home. And yet, she was all about giving that sense of hope and happiness to others. What other kind of person drove around with an excessive amount of holiday decorations in her SUV?
The kind of person who believes in the special magic of Christmas. A person determined to share that joy with others, just like she’d done when she was in college and ran that Christmas Club she’d told him about. She’d come to Clark Creek armed with optimism and an innovative proposal. Then, she’d worked hard to organize an incredible event in record time. Evan understood that the Santa float wasn’t just about a big guy in a red suit. Santa Claus was a special emblem of the parade, an iconic figure reminding children of the true spirit of the holiday: its hope…its wonder…its undeniable magic. The parade couldn’t go on without him.
Evan’s gaze fell on his coat rack in front of the window, twinkling with Christmas lights. It wasn’t the prettiest of pictures, but if he tried really, really hard, he could imagine himself dressed in a red suit and shiny black boots for a few short hours. If it would help Mary by reducing her stress about the parade, then the gesture would be worth it. She’d put too much into this parade to have something like this complicate it now. What would it cost him, anyway? Nobody in town would ever guess it was him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mary had just finished sending her email to parade participants about the lineup tomorrow when Evan walked in the open conference room door.
“Mary,” he said with a determined air. “I’m going to do it.”
“It?”
“Be your Santa Claus.”
She did a double-take, because she hadn’t even gotten around to working on the replacement. That was next on her agenda. “But I thought you said you don’t do jolly?”
“I don’t.” He strode over to the table and flipped the lid off the Santa suit box. “But I can probably fake it for an hour or two.” He reached into the box and placed the Santa hat on his head. Then he grabbed the tunic holding it up against his uniform. “Ho. Ho. Ho,” he said in the dullest, most mechanical fashion ever. “There! How’s that?”
“Um.”
He frowned at her expression. “Right. Maybe I can work on that.”
While she was thrilled he’d volunteered, she was one hundred percent surprised, as well. And yeah, he definitely needed to work on those ho-ho-hos.
“What about your parade duties?” she asked.
“I’ve spoken to Dennis and he’s taking over my role.”
“What about his?”
“I’m deputizing Itzel.”
“And she’s okay with that?”
“It was her idea.” He grinned and Mary’s stomach twisted nervously. This was one problem solved, and so kind of Evan to step forward. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a super great Santa Claus. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yep. I’ve thought it over. The Santa float is the grand finale of the parade, and then there’s Santa’s Workshop to consider. Don’t want to let those kiddos down.” He stretched the tunic out by his sides; it was much larger than he was.
“We might need to find a pillow.”
Mary bit her lip. “Yeah.” She stared at him in awe, surveying his Santa hat. That fit him well enough and he actually looked cute it in it, in an unexpected way.
“Want me to try again?”
“Er, sure.”
“HO. HO. HO.” This time it was no less stilted, only louder. He scrutinized her. She didn’t think she’d winced, but she might have. “Not any better?”
Mary exhaled, considering her options. She couldn’t very well refuse his generous offer. Who knew if she’d be able to find another Santa Claus at this late date? Christmas Eve—and the parade—was tomorrow.
She stood up next to him and placed her arms out in front of her in a semicircle like she was surrounding a huge imaginary belly. “Try it like this.” She put on her jolliest deep baritone. “Ho-ho-ho.”
“Got it.” He set the tunic aside and mimicked what she’d done with her arms. “Ho. Ho. Ho,” he said, as he bounced on his heels.
He was trying so hard, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but that sounded just the same as the first time. “That’s good! Really good!” And also might scare off the youngest children. He didn’t sound so much like Saint Nick as Ebenezer Scrooge playing Saint Nick.
Even though she’d considered Evan Scrooge-like in the beginning, now that she knew him better, she didn’t at all. But that was because she had gotten to see his private side. Unfortunately, Mechanical Santa was the guy who showed up in public.
She shot him a sunny grin, appreciative of his efforts. “With all the parade noise, people might not even hear those ho-ho-hos anyway. Maybe you should just smile and wave?”
“But what about afterwards at Santa’s Workshop?”
Yeah, what about afterwards…“Er, you should do the same!”
His forehead creased beneath that Santa hat, and she worried he’d read that as a criticism. “I mean, you’ve got such a nice smile. It’s very, very jolly when you apply yourself. So, come on. Act natural! Smile!” She encouraged him, gesturing with her hands, and his smile did not look natural at all. It actually looked like he’d just swallowed a ton of fish oil.
“You know what?” she said. “We don’t need to worry about that right now. Everything will come more easily to you tomorrow once you’re dressed up and in character.” She hoped. “In the meantime, I really would love your help with some of these boxes.”
Evan folded the Santa tunic and placed it back in the box along with his hat. “Not breaking for lunch?”
Mary checked the time on her phone and saw that daylight was wasting. There was still a lot to do and organize. Apart from unpacking them from the boxes, the souvenirs needed to be taken out of their individual packaging and sorted into bins, so they’d be easy to hand out during ticket sales. Then she had her starter cash box to set up. She’d run by the bank this morning on the way here. “Do you think we could have something brought in?”
“The Whistle Stop delivers.”
“Really? That would be perfect.”
She didn’t know how she was going to explain the huge number of T-shirts to Evan once they started going through boxes, but since he wasn’t typically involved in fundraising, or parade organizing, maybe he wouldn’t think that anything was off.
Mary still worried about running into a huge deficit with the parade. She didn’t know how she’d sell all those T-shirts, but she really had to, since it sounded unlikely that they could be returned. Then, there was that other lingering feeling she had. That sense of doom hovering over her about bad things coming in threes. But she honestly couldn’t think of one more thing that could go wrong. Thanks to Evan her Santa Claus crisis had been averted, and nothing could be as bad as her T-shirt ordering mistake.
“Thanks for playing Santa in th
e parade,” she told him. “That really is above and beyond the call of duty, and very nice of you.”
“I’m happy to help out,” he said. “After all you’ve put into this parade, I want to do my part, too. I’ll be honest: When you proposed the plan, I couldn’t fathom how it would work. All I could imagine was this huge financial catastrophe affecting Clark Creek, with the parade costing the town more than it made. With all your excellent oversight, I can now see how wrong I was.”
“Wrong.” Mary swallowed hard, her nerves on edge. “Right.”
Evan and Mary finished their sandwiches from the Whistle Stop Café, then he helped her open some boxes. One looked different from the others in that it was narrow, long, and flat. They opened that one first, finding the “Christmas Avenue” signs inside.
“Nice,” he said, holding one up. “I can see it.”
Mary appeared happy at his support of the parade. It had been a gradual process, but he’d finally gotten behind the idea. His playing Santa Claus was proof of that.
They moved onto the square boxes next. One was filled with little flags and the other with magnets. Mary suggested they get the boxes unloaded before doing any unwrapping, and he was game for that plan.
Evan cut into the third box with his scissors, opening its flaps. “We have—T-shirts!” He peered down into the box, seeing piles and piles of them. “Lots and lots of T-shirts.”
“There are probably a few more.” She grimaced, and he wondered why that was a problem. She grabbed handfuls of T-shirts, setting them on the table in stacks. “I was thinking we shouldn’t open all the T-shirt boxes,” she said. “Maybe just a couple, and have the others handy as backups.”
“All right.” Whatever her procedure, that was fine with him. “Should I open another box and see what’s in it?”
