The Dating Series

by L. P. Dover

  “You know what I’m thinking?”

  “What?” Alyssa asks.

  “I think that we need to unpack some boxes, and then we’ll go down to the square and visit Santa. After we see the holly jolly guy, we will go get some of the best hot cocoa you’ve ever had at my favorite place.”

  Alyssa thinks on this for a minute while she taps her small index finger to her cheek. “Nana makes delicious hot chocolate.”

  “I know, but Aunt Mathie’s has the best.”

  “Who is this Aunt Mathie person? I don’t have an aunt with that name.” Alyssa puts both hands on her hips, and her poor bear is stuck between her arm and her side. It’s a good thing it is stuffed, or he’d be gasping for air.

  “Aunt Mathie is the name of the diner. It has been in the town square for a very long time, long before Nana was a little girl. When I was your age, Nana and Papa used to take your auntie Belle and me to visit Santa every year, and then we’d go to the diner for a special treat of hot cocoa. Sometimes, we’d get pie or a piece of cake. And then Papa would drive us around to look at all the Christmas lights.”

  Alyssa processes what I tell her and finally says, “Okay, I think we should go.”

  “Me too.”

  “But maybe not for hot cocoa. I don’t want to hurt Nana’s feelings.”

  “You won’t, I promise.”

  My daughter seems unsure, and so I do the next best thing. I pull my phone out of my pocket, go to my most recent calls, press my mother's name, the speakerphone button, and wait for her to answer. Before I can even say anything, Alyssa starts talking.

  “Nana, my daddy wants to take me to this auntie place, and I just don’t know. He says she has better hot chocolate than you. I told him he’s just silly because you make the best.”

  My mom chuckles on the other end. “Sweetie, if you’re going to Auntie Mathie’s, then I’m going to meet you there. I can’t remember the last time I went there for a special treat. What time should I meet you there?”

  Alyssa’s eyes go wide as she meets mine. “What time, Daddy?”

  I look at my wrist, only to realize I never put my watch on this morning. “Tell Nana we will call her in a couple of hours.”

  “Nana, did you hear my dad?”

  “I did. I’ll be waiting for your call, sweetie.”

  Part of me wishes I hadn’t made plans with Alyssa to see Santa today of all days. I’m tired, emotionally drained, and not ready to face any of my former classmates. When I left Meadowbrook, I did so with no intentions of ever returning. Growing up in a small town has zero perks unless you’re a parent raising a family. As a teen, I hated this place. There wasn’t anything to do. Our movie theater never had the newly released movies. The nearest mall was an hour away, and the one highlight we had—the skating rink—shut down midway through my sophomore year of high school. Everyone in town played sports, whether they were good or not, and everyone gossiped. Church is the place everyone goes to if they need to know what’s going on or if they need to spread the news. And we all learned early on to stay away from the group of older women who are always seen together. If you rode by them on your bike, just a bit too fast, they were on the phone with your mother, grandmother, and your great aunt before you could even get home.

  Yet, here I am, back in the one place I said I’d never return. When you unexpectedly lose your partner, your wife, the mother of your child, you put your life into perspective. At first, I changed nothing about myself. I still left the house before six a.m. and returned after seven in the evening. I never thought about everything my wife did daily to keep our house running in perfect order. It never crossed my mind that someone had to pick Alyssa up from school, dance, or take her to her playdates. Truth be told, I had no idea what my wife did every day.

  Until I was forced to be the mom and dad.

  The decision to leave my job was easy. I could do everything I did as a freelancer, which is far more enticing because I can set my own hours. I can work when Alyssa is in school, asleep, or I can take her with me on commercial photoshoots. I also bought my house, intending to turn the she shed in the backyard into a photo studio to start taking family portraits. This is far from my dream job, but it’s what works for Alyssa, and she’s the only person who matters now.

  I have no choice but to park a few blocks from the town square. All around us, parents are walking with their children toward the center where the massive Santa’s Village is set up. I think the last time I paid attention was when I was ten. It was that year that I found out Santa wasn’t real, that some jolly fat man in a red suit didn’t actually come down our chimney and leave me the most sought-after toy. Once I learned his or her true identity, I no longer cared about the town and its activities. Now that I’m a parent, I’m back in the land of make-believe, and honestly, I love it. There’s something magical about Christmas and believing in Santa.

  When we come around the corner, Alyssa gasps, which brings a smile to my face. This, right here, seeing Christmas through her eyes, is worth being back in Meadowbrook. The green space that makes up most of the square is Santa’s workshop meets a winter wonderland. There’s a machine making snow, children are laughing, people are dressed as elves, and music is playing.

  “Oh my goodness,” she says with whispered excitement.

  “Pretty awesome, right?”

  “Can we go see Santa?” she asks, her eyes pleading as if I’d ever say no to her.

  I reach for her hand, squeeze it tightly and wink. “Let’s go.” Alyssa skips across the street, and I find myself wanting to do the same. As soon as we step into the village, the elf behind us puts a rope up, closing us in.

  “We made it just in time, Daddy.”

  “We did, but Santa is here until Christmas. We would’ve come tomorrow if we missed today.” Alyssa nods while I mentally prepare for the long line ahead.

  After about twenty minutes of her hopping in place, I let go of her hand and shake out my arm. She’s about pulled it out of its socket. “Are we almost there yet?”

  I scoop her up until she’s resting on my shoulder. It’s awkward and cumbersome but gives her the best vantage point. “Daddy, I see Santa,” she squeals so loud the people in front of us turn and look.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, but they tell me not to worry.

  After I put Alyssa down, she says, “This is the best place ever. How come we haven’t come before?”

  As much as I want to be honest with her, I can’t tell her that her mother never wanted to visit or that her mom thought the mall Santa was good enough. Sometimes, that’s the difference between growing up in the city versus a small town. People think their traditions are better, and minds are often hard to change.

  “I don’t know, kiddo. But we’re here now,” I tell her.

  We inch closer to the front, and that’s when I spot her—the elf—Bree. Her last name escapes me at the moment, but not her first. We went to high school together, always friends, but never close. We hung out with the same crowd but were never super friendly in a sense she would call me or I her. But I was always fascinated by her name. Most of the girls in school had long names they shortened, Samantha to Sam, Christine to Christy or Chris. Bree was always Bree. Never Brianna or Breland. She was always just Bree. And for as long as I can remember, she’s always been the elf that stands next to Santa.

  Bree looks up and catches me staring. I should turn away, but I don’t. I smile and offer a little wave, wondering if she even remembers who I am or if she thinks I’m some sort of weirdo. I’m going for the latter because what person waves to someone they haven’t seen in a handful of years. She waves back, but I’m sure it’s only because she’s an elf, and it’s her job to be friendly.

  When it’s our turn, Bree comes forward and crouches down to Alyssa’s eye level. “Hi, Alyssa. I’m Bree. I’m going to take you to see Santa in just a second. Can you tell me what your bear’s name is?”

  My mouth drops open, and Bree winks. How did she know m
y daughter's name?

  Alyssa holds her bear out and says, “This is Mommy.”

  “Mommy?” Bree verifies.

  Alyssa nods, and I wish I could just pick her up and take her home. “Yep, because that’s my mommy’s heartbeat inside. Listen.” Alyssa thrusts her bear toward Bree, who turns her ear toward its chest. Her eyes meet mine, and she knows. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this one out.

  Bree smiles and takes Alyssa’s hand. “Make sure you tell Santa all about your bear. He’ll want to listen too.”

  They’re gone before I can protest. Alyssa climbs right up onto Santa’s lap and starts talking a mile a minute. My mom appears by my side and loops her arm in with mine.

  “Did you tell them we were coming?” I nod toward the elves and Santa.

  “Nope, why?”

  “Because Bree knew Alyssa’s name.”

  “Must be the magic of Christmas,” my mom says.

  “Yeah, must be,” I say just as Alyssa comes running with a handful of candy canes. When I look up, Bree is standing there, smiling.

  Three

  Bree

  “How is it you knew every child’s name tonight?” I ask Santa.

  Jody winks and gives me a big Santa smile. “It’s my job to know. Plus, I have to live up to your grandfather’s legacy.” Which is true. My grandfather knew all the little kids. Occasionally, some out of towners would stop in that he wouldn’t know, but other than that, he was on top of it. His gaze averts to something over my shoulder, and he sighs. “I knew Caleb Allen was in town and figured he’d bring his little girl to see me at some point. His wife died in a car accident over a year ago. You remember him, don’t you?”

  Hearing that makes my heart hurt. I look over my shoulder and see him standing with his mother and holding his daughter’s hand as they talk to Mary-Anne, who is still wearing her ugly Christmas sweater from earlier today when she came into the gallery. “We graduated together. I haven’t seen him since then,” I say, turning back to him.

  Jody’s gaze saddens. “It kills me when little kids are sad. Did you hear what she asked me for?”

  Nodding, I swallow hard, trying my best to ignore the burning behind my eyes. She said she knew he couldn’t bring her mother back because she’s in heaven, but she wanted Santa to give her dad a gift that would make him happy and not sad. Such a smart little girl.

  “I did. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your mother at such a young age.”

  Jody squeezes my shoulder. “Me either.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “All right, my favorite elf, I’m heading home. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

  “Sounds good, Santa.”

  He waves at Alyssa and when I look over at her, she waves at me. I wave back, and she lets go of her dad’s hand to run over to me, still holding her teddy bear. Caleb is caught off guard and hollers after her, but she doesn’t stop.

  “Thank you for all of the candy canes,” she says, her little voice angelic and soft. Several of them stick out of her pockets, and it’s hard not to laugh.

  I kneel to get on her level. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. You know, I usually eat about three of them a night. I’m addicted to them.”

  Caleb comes up behind her and picks her up in his arms. “You can’t run off from me like that, Alyssa.”

  She frowns. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I wanted to tell Bree thank you for all the candy canes.”

  Caleb sighs but then shakes his head and smiles. “It’s okay. I’m sure Bree appreciates it.”

  His eyes meet mine, and for a second, I get lost in them. We used to run around in the same friend circle, but I don’t remember his eyes being such a beautiful golden brown. Clearing my throat, I focus back on Alyssa, grinning as wide as I can. “I do. There are a lot of kids who don’t say thank you at all.”

  “We’re going to get hot chocolate from Aunt Mathie’s diner,” she says, bouncing in Caleb’s arms.

  He chuckles. “Can you tell she’s excited?”

  “I’d be excited too,” I laugh. “Aunt Mathie’s has the best hot chocolate ever.”

  Caleb’s mother, Ruth, steps up beside him. “It’s even better than mine, and I’m not ashamed to say it.” She holds her arms out wide. “It’s good to see you, Bree. How’s the gallery doing? I’m looking forward to the Christmas showcase.”

  I hug her and step back. “It’s great, actually. I’m looking forward to showing off the new pieces I procured.”

  “Are you saying it’s going to be better than last year’s event?”

  “I sure hope so, Ruth.” There are still some things I want to find, and I’m running out of time. I want this year to be different from all the others.

  Alyssa’s eyes twinkle. “Want to get some hot chocolate?”

  “Um,” I start, not knowing what to say.

  Smiling, Caleb sets her down. “You can come if you want, Bree. If I remember correctly, wasn’t the hot chocolate one of your favorites?”

  “Good memory,” I reply, impressed at his recollection. “I like it piled high with whipped cream too.”

  Caleb chuckles. “It’s crazy the kind of random stuff we remember.”

  I nod. “Exactly. Just like I know you used to drink your hot chocolate with not one, but two peppermints.”

  His eyes widen. “Right. How did you know that?”

  It’s one of the nights I remember from the diner. I don’t know why it sticks out in my mind, but it does. “A group of our friends decided to meet up at Aunt Mathie’s diner the night of the tree lighting. You sat three seats down from me at the counter, and I remember us all getting our drinks and the waitress setting two peppermints down beside your mug of hot chocolate. I watched you put them both in and wait for them to melt.”

  By the surprised look on his face, I can tell he didn’t expect me to say that. “Wow. I didn’t think you paid that much attention to me in high school.”

  I roll my eyes. “We may not have been best friends, but you were still a pretty cool guy. I liked talking to you in English class.” Alyssa snickers, and I wink at her. “Are you ready for that hot chocolate now?”

  She nods excitedly. “With extra whipped cream.”

  Caleb bursts out laughing, and we start toward Aunt Mathie’s, which is only two blocks away. “What about the peppermints? We could put one of your candy canes in it.”

  Alyssa sticks her tongue out and gags. “No, thanks. I’ll eat my candy canes like normal.”

  Caleb and his mother both giggle and shake their heads. When we get to the diner, Caleb opens the door for us. Ruth gasps when we walk in, and she takes Alyssa’s hand. “Oh, Alyssa, you have to come with me, sweetie. You see that table over there?” She points to a booth in the corner where Mrs. Perkins, my old History teacher, and her granddaughter, Cassie, sit. Cassie is the same age as Alyssa. “That’s my friend Vera and her granddaughter, Cassie. You might see her in school tomorrow.”

  Ruth lifts her brows at Caleb, and he waves them off. “Go. Have fun.” Ruth takes Alyssa over, and they end up sitting with Vera and Cassie. Caleb clears his throat and motions toward a table. “Shall we?”

  We sit down at an empty booth, and the waitress comes over to get our orders. We both order our hot chocolates just the way we like, only this time, he got his with a candy cane instead of two peppermints. Mine has a mountain of whipped cream along with a few marshmallows. I look back at Alyssa, and hers is piled high as well.

  “She’s so adorable,” I say, turning back to Caleb. “She looks just like you with your brown hair and brown eyes.”

  He smiles and looks down at his drink. “I love her more than life itself.”

  “I bet you do.”

  When he lifts his gaze to mine, he narrows them. “How did you know her name earlier?”

  I wink. “Santa knows all.” We both laugh, and I wrap my hands around my mug. The warmth feels good on my hands. “Actually, Jody knew you were in town and figured you’d bring your little girl by some time to se
e him.”

  Caleb averts his gaze to Alyssa, who is talking animatedly to her newly found friend. “I wanted to get her out of the house for a while. We’re drowning in moving boxes.”

  He tears the plastic away from his candy cane and sets it in his hot chocolate. Taking my spoon, I stir the whipped cream into my drink. “I’m sorry about your wife, Caleb. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

  He blows out a sigh. “It hasn’t been fun, but Alyssa and I are working through it. I quit my job in Charlotte so we could move back here to be closer to my folks. So far, it’s working out okay. I didn’t realize how hard being a single parent was going to be.”

  “I wouldn’t know, but I can imagine. My niece is four years old and a handful.”

  His brows furrow. “I don’t remember you having any siblings.”

  I take a sip of my drink and laugh. “I don’t. Do you remember Lindy from high school? She was my best friend.”

  A smile spreads across his face. “Oh yeah, I do. She was the loud one in the group.”

  Tilting my head back, I laugh so hard it hurts. “I can’t wait to tell her you said that.” I hold a hand over my heart. “Anyway, she has a little girl, and the aunt situation kind of stuck. I like it, though. I love that child as if she was my own.”

  “Do you not have any kids?” Caleb asks, lifting his mug to his lips.

  Shaking my head, I stir my hot chocolate again. I’d love to be married with kids right now, but I wasted too many years with the wrong guy. “Not yet,” I reply. “I wanted kids, but the guy I thought I was going to marry decided he didn’t want the responsibility of having them. I loved Mark, but I couldn’t give up on having a family.”