Secret Santa Read online

  “I’ll meet you there,” she interrupted. “If you tell me when and where, that is.” Her mouth twitched with a self-conscious smile, her eyes dropping to her half-finished éclair. Keeping this friendship low-key seemed important, somehow. And keeping it limited to worthy causes was an even better idea.

  She wasn’t ready to think about future consequences yet, especially with Great-grandmother Truda’s ornament looped around her neck like a heavy reminder.

  *****

  Colleen slid the pair of sunglasses on, then off again. There was no reason to act like a spy on a secret mission just because she was meeting Jack Bradley. Never mind it was the second time this month she had voluntarily spent time with him.

  “It's a good cause for the holidays, nothing more,” she murmured to herself, as she pushed inside the back entrance to the community homeless shelter. Where a makeshift gift wrapping station had been set up for all the donations that citizens in need would receive on that most charitable of holidays.

  She spotted Jack immediately from his table in the middle of the room. Dressed in a striking red pullover, his dark curls attractively tousled across his forehead. “Please tell me you’re better at this than I am,” he pleaded, waving a pair of scissors in greeting. The package in front of him was full of creases, the ends decidedly crooked. Even the scotch tape was a mess, wrinkled and puckered in the middle.

  “Well,” she said, shrugging out of her coat, “judging from this, my neighbor’s six year-old is better at wrapping gifts than you are. Interested in a few pointers?”

  He rolled the tube of paper in her direction with a grin. “Teach me everything you know. I’ve relied on gift sacks up to this point.”

  “It shows.” Colleen tried to ignore the warmth in his voice, their close proximity as he leaned over her shoulder. “You need the paper to reach half-way, like this,” she instructed, her voice a trifle flustered. “And it’s better to overestimate, since you can always cut more off.”

  Her grip on the scissors seemed slightly uneven. She sucked in a calming breath, trying to appear normal, even though she could smell the rich spice of his aftershave. The fragrance was incredibly appealing, making her want to lean towards the source even though her heart knew she should turn the other direction.

  “Fold it like this, so the flap is on the bottom. See?”

  “You make it look easy.” He leaned against the table, his dark eyes smiling up at her. A certain boyishness reflected in his features that made him seem irresistible at this moment, even though they were merely wrapping presents. No mistletoe, no hint of romance anywhere in sight.

  “Now it’s your turn,” she said, flopping down on a nearby stool. Crossing her arms, she pretended to fix him with a stern eye. “We’ll consider this first test a practice run, but everything afterwards is graded on a scale from one to ten.”

  He was a fast learner, though, and seemed to have mastered it by the time they were halfway through the stack. “I guess we’re even now,” he told her, pausing in the midst of wrapping a child’s princess doll. “I taught you to skate and you taught to me to live without gift sacks.”

  She laughed, nearly tearing the paper as she cut it. “They’re not quite the same thing. But you’re welcome.” Brushing the hair back from her face, she offered him a friendlier smile than she intended. Almost flirtatious, really, considering the pace of their conversation.

  “Something about you seems different today,” he said, glancing at her over a stack of books, bound together by a ribbon. “I can’t put my finger on it…no, wait. It’s the moon-shaped amulet. You’re not wearing it.”

  She blushed, her mouth dropping open slightly although no answer emerged. Putting it on had become almost automatic, yet, somehow she’d left it on her dresser this morning without a second thought. “I don’t always wear it,” she said, defensively. “I do own more jewelry, you know.”

  “I’m sure you do,” he said, his face reddening with this scolding. “It’s just I’ve never seen you without it. You were even wearing it the day we met.”

  Colleen fumbled the pair of scissors, dropping them against the table. “I can’t believe you would remember something like that,” she said, pretending to busy herself with measuring off some ribbon. “It’s been a whole year since that charity function–”

  “And here we are at another similar event. Funny, isn’t it?”

  “Hilarious.” She flashed a smile that she hoped was lighthearted, despite the sense of confusion rattling insider her. This had been a mistake, but there was no escape. Her fingers trembled with the thought, the ribbon tying crookedly over the sleek package.

  “Are you still spending Christmas alone?” he asked, the abruptness of the question taking her breath.

  She nodded, not trusting herself to answer out loud. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she waited for the inevitable. Would she be able to turn him down if he offered her a chance to share Christmas with his family?

  “I thought maybe you would spend it with Meg’s family,” he explained, his gaze glued to the set of action figures he was covering in candy cane patterned paper. “You two have been friends since childhood, right?”

  “Since second grade,” she said, releasing a breath. “And she did offer for me to come to her parent’s house, but I turned it down. See, I’ve already had Christmas dinner with my family, thanks to my Secret Santa.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He opened his mouth as if to say something else, when his cell phone rang. “Sorry,” he said, checking the number. “It’s the firm calling, so I better take this.”

  She continued wrapping presents as he disappeared outside, deep in a conversation that involved legal jargon. When he returned, he was still on the phone, his arm cradling a work folder. “I think I’ve got it with me…I can probably fax them to you from the front desk. No problem.”

  He flipped the phone shut and unzipped the folder. Riffling through the contents, he pulled out a set of papers that looked like some sort of contract. “I’m sorry about this,” he said, a sheepish look sneaking over his face. “I’ll just be a moment and then I’ll race you to the end of this stack, alright?”

  She nodded, watching him leave with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Something inside her felt torn at this moment, as if she were ready to defy destiny. To chuck an entire life philosophy for the sake of a whim, a sudden attraction that could prove to be nothing more than a case of winter magic.

  No hidden bit of wisdom emerged to clear her thoughts before he returned to challenge her to a marathon finish. Their laughter echoed across the room as they sliced through paper and folded corners at record speed. Her hand reaching to swat Jack as he playfully nudged her stack of supplies towards the edge of the table.

  “Looks like you win,” he said, as Colleen stuck the bow on her final package. A significance was in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat, her mouth tugging itself into a smile against her will.

  “You put in a good show, though. We should take a break, huh? Freshen up for round two.”

  The refreshment tables offered hot cocoa and cookies. They chose to carry their treats outside to a bench near a cluster of cedar trees, where ribbons and strings of popcorn were woven into the branches, pine cones and berries peeking from the greenery for a natural look.

  “Thanks for coming, by the way,” Jack said, easing his folder onto the space between them. “I would’ve been a wreck without you. Wrinkled paper and crooked edges and all that.”

  “That’s true.” She took a long sip of the chocolate drink. Her fingers wrapped tight around the cup as if needing to hold onto something. Her emotions seemed to be caught in a snow flurry, blowing every direction with the winds.

  “Colleen…I know you may prefer a quiet Christmas,” he began, his fingers toying awkwardly with a half a cookie, “but I want you to know, you’re welcome to spend the holiday with my family. If you want.”

  His eyes locked her gaze, melting her last bit of icy resol
ve. Without thinking, she touched his hand, her face tilting to meet his. Their lips had barely brushed when the strains of a familiar Christmas jingle interrupted, the sound of his phone ringing in his coat pocket.

  With a groan he pulled back, snatching the cell from its hiding place. “I may have to quit if this keeps happening,” he said, tossing an apologetic look over his shoulder as he rose from the table. Colleen's cheeks blushed, her face still tingling from the almost kiss.

  She touched her cocoa cup, nearly knocking it over. Reaching to steady it, she accidentally shoved Jack’s half-zipped folder to the ground, its contents spilling beneath the bench.

  “Calm down,” she told herself, crouching to collect the legal documents and various official looking papers. Her hands were shaking, which made it rather difficult to put them back inside, and even more ended up spilling as she unzipped the rest of the opening.

  But the urge to giggle over her klutziness faded as she touched a familiar piece of stationary–a Christmas sheet with a masked Santa Claus motif in the background. Crookedly cut magazine letters were pasted on to form part of a message, the rest of the pre-cut letters dotting the ground from a spilled envelope.

  A chill crept over her that wasn’t from the cold, her gaze slowly rising to meet Jack as he walked towards her. Oblivious, he flipped his phone shut and flashed her a cheerful smile. “No more interruptions, I promise. I’ve switched the ringer off and–”

  “You,” she said, the guilty papers clutched in her hand. “You’re him–my Secret Santa.”

  “What?” His eyes widened as he recognized the paper in her hand, his face visibly paling. Moving a step backwards, he extended a hand as if to block the blowup he knew was coming. “Colleen, I–I can explain. I know this looks a little strange but–”

  “How did you get involved in this?” She held up the sheet accusingly, her voice trembling with a combination of hurt and anger. “Was this all a trick on the part of–who? Meg? Dawn? Rosalyn?”

  “If I asked you to go out with me, you would have said ‘no’, without thinking,” he said, his tone gentle, pleading almost. “All I wanted was a second chance, a chance to get to know you. Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we first met.”

  She gasped, the words shaking her icy sense of reason. Hugging herself, she backed away from Jack, whose look of guilt was already chipping away at her stony exterior.

  “Colleen, I know you didn’t fall in love with me at first sight,” he said quietly, “but I hoped that maybe you weren't waiting on destiny or anyone else’s approval to fall in love.”

  Hot tears of confusion burned her eyes, blurring her vision. She turned away before Jack could see them spill across her face, her hands furiously wiping them away. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I'm sorry. It's just–excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, she rose from the table and made her way towards the parking spaces as the emotions tumbled inside her like a castle of blocks collapsing.

  *****

  “You’re going to regret this, Colleen. He's a nice guy who wanted a chance, that's all.”

  Meg’s voice seemed far away as she lectured her friend through the phone line. After attempting to communicate with her for several days, she’d finally caught Colleen by switching phones to avoid the call screen. It was Christmas Eve, a late date for confessing her guilt in this whole affair, Colleen felt.

  “How else was Jack supposed to get your attention?” she reasoned, as Colleen stayed moodily silent. “You never would have gone out with him and we both know why. But he’s perfect for you and everyone else can see it. You might notice it too–”

  “Stop right there,” said Colleen. “My love life is my own business, even if I choose not to have one at all. And another thing,” she added, “if Jack’s so perfect for me, than why did he need you to engineer this whole setup? Why not let nature take its course?”

  “He didn’t need my help,” said Meg. “All I did was pass the torch to him. Jack arranged for the dinner menu and driving expenses for your family on his own. And he thought of the horse ranch too–he was already volunteering there as a Santa for the visiting school children.”

  Colleen sighed, her eyes fluttering closed in a weary gesture. “Look, Meg, I know you meant well, I know he's probably a great guy....but I’m sorry. I have to make my own decisions. Especially when it comes to romance.” She cradled the phone without saying goodbye, her fingers tapping restlessly against her desk.

  She had absolutely no reason to hold back like this, did she? The attraction she felt for Jack was real; the connection between them enough to make any hesitation over a silly Christmas game seem petty and childish.

  Pulling open her desk's top drawer, she lifted out the picture taken of her and Jack at the ice skating expedition. She studied it, her eyes tracing his rugged jaw, the humorous sparkle in his face.

  Her own photographed smile was one of surprise, a slight hesitation frozen between protests to the photographer. Her cheeks glowed–from something other than the chill breeze and skating, Colleen knew. Sliding it into the drawer, she closed it again.

  She needed time to think about this, even if everything within her felt the urge to rush after Jack and make the connection between them complete. Wasn’t that the point of the silly lucky charm? Even if their first glimpse of love was imperfect, maybe this second or third glimpse was enough.

  The notion wove itself into Colleen's thoughts as she walked towards home after leaving her office. Past the doors of poverty resource center, a Santa with a kettle and bell was collecting for a local charity. She pulled a few bills from her purse and tossed the donation in his tin.

  “Thank you, dear,” said a buoyant voice, a pair of blue eyes regarding her with a kind twinkle. “I hope this Christmas Eve finds you in a hopeful kind of spirit.”

  “Not exactly,” she admitted, a twinge of recognition stirring as she took in the coarse white whiskers, threaded with specks of gray. “I’m actually feeling a little lost right now. Someone I thought was a friend–they sort of tricked me.”

  He shook his head, a gentle smile creasing his features. “What a shame. And yet…perhaps, all can be mended. Christmas is a wonderful time for second chances. Even last chances, am I right?”

  “I–I don’t know.” She felt the crowd pushing between them, the mass of last-minute shoppers making it hard to continue their conversation. The distance between herself and Santa grew, a child pushing his way towards the white-bearded figure in his eagerness as Colleen was carried in the opposite direction by the movement of shoppers. Over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Santa's hand waving in her direction, a kindly smile before he disappeared behind a wool-coated figure emerging from a florist's shop.

  Her apartment building seemed extra quiet, many of the occupants no doubt spending Christmas Eve elsewhere, celebrating with friends and family. Bitterness shot through her as she unlocked the door and pushed it open. As she stepped inside, her foot slid on something just over the threshold.

  An envelope had been pushed beneath the door.

  Jack Bradley–or Meg, or whoever–was clearly at it again. Her eyes narrowed as she unfolded its contents to find the Secret Santa stationary and magazine letters pasted on with glue. The message made her pause in confusion, her eyes retracing the words at least twice more.

  “Colleen,” it read, “if you still believe that true love is never lost, then join the tree lighting crowd at Hartley Park before nine o’clock tonight. And remember to bring your lucky charm for a last chance at happiness!”

  “This is a joke,” she said tossing it on the counter, anger heating her cheeks. Yet something in those words haunted her. It wasn’t anything she could explain, not even to herself. She couldn’t shake the need to do what it said, the burning curiosity to find out what the cryptic words really meant.

  All she knew was that eight-thirty found her slipping her coat and scarf back on, Truda’s ornament safely looped around her neck.

/>   The trolley ride through Hartley Park was freezing cold, her hands clutching the pole as she debated whether this qualified as madness. The Secret Santa message was tucked inside her pocket, and she’d even reread it a couple times to see if it still made sense. What scared her most was that it seemed the exact thing to do, as if somehow she was pulled in this direction by an invisible force.

  Dismounting with the other passengers, she found herself lost in a crowd of strangers. Hundreds of festive citizens eager to witness the grand tree lighting in the center of the park. In the midst of them, Colleen stood alone, feeling out of place and a little frightened. For some reason, she felt anticipation, its adrenaline tinged with hope and fear. As if her “last chance at happiness”, as the message writer had worded it, was leaving her breathless with its secrecy.

  The instructions were so vague and the atmosphere so overwhelming, the emotion ebbed in a few minutes. Colleen was crushed and overheated in the packed crowd of carolers, pulling her coat off despite the freezing temperatures. She moved towards the back of the crowd as a sense of ridiculousness crept over her, as if she could hide where the shops were closed and darkened, the vendor’s stands locked up tight.

  Someone shoved against her and she heard something clatter to the pavement below. The movement of the still-growing crowd had pushed her several feet away before she realized that Truda’s amulet was no longer hanging round her neck. The clasp had broken for the third time in its life–in her mind flashed an image of it being crushed by the feet of passing strangers.

  “Excuse me,” she said, “I dropped something. Please, can I just get past you…” A sense of despair washed over her as she squeezed in the direction of her previous spot, scanning the pavement for any sign of the precious charm. Instead spotting bits of litter and other lost items, like gloves and hats dropped in the confusion.