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Hope couldn’t believe the joy she was experiencing watching Melody perform. Her daughter was glowing and totally in her element.
“Mom,” Todd whispered, “she’s pretty good, right?”
“Right.”
“So maybe being an English teacher isn’t her calling.”
“Her calling?” Hope grinned. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Mr. Q said it. After he gave up being a science teacher, he searched for his calling. It’s like . . . it’s like a career or something that you absolutely have to do. His was radio.”
“That’s a good explanation.”
“Do you know your calling?” Todd asked.
“I do.” To resurrect her pastry shop. If Zach hadn’t—
No. She wouldn’t go there. Bitterness solved nothing.
“Your sister and you can do whatever you want to, Todd,” Hope whispered. “The future is yours to make of it what you will.”
“I want to be a sports announcer like Steve Waldren.”
Hope winced as she flashed on her encounter with Steve at the café. He’d been so earnest. He’d probably never considered what extra expenses were involved with a trip to Disneyland. Brie had alluded that he might get into trouble because Hope had turned down the prize.
Not my problem, she thought and focused on the stage.
“Can I?” Todd asked.
“Can you what?”
“Become a sports announcer like Steve?”
“If that’s what you want, you go for it.” She ruffled her son’s hair. “Now, shh, let’s watch the play.”
––––––––
“Steve, this is taking a long time,” Lincoln whispered.
“Yes, it is, bro, but basketball games take a long time, too.” Steve patted his brother’s arm. “Aren’t you enjoying the sheep?”
“Yes, and I like the camel.”
“Me, too.” Steve had winced a time or two when a child had sung a sour note, but he’d smiled when the magi had presented their gifts, and he’d downright laughed when the camel had waddled out. The rear legs hadn’t been able to keep up with the front legs. The director had leaped into the action to help the young actors to their feet.
When the play ended, the audience went wild with appreciation. Steve decided to bide his time while Hope approached her daughter and congratulated her on a job well done.
“What now?” Brie asked.
“Caramel corn,” Lincoln said.
“Not yet, buddy,” Steve said. “First, let’s move outside, and we’ll catch them when they come out.”
“Catch who?” Lincoln asked.
“Hope and her kids. That’s why we came.”
“Are we playing tag?”
“No. We’re—” Steve exhaled.
“When are we going to Sweet Place?” Lincoln asked.
“After,” Steve said.
“After what?”
“After we give Hope the prize.”
“The prize to Disneyland.”
“Right, bro. Now you’ve got it!” Steve followed the audience members out of the auditorium. Kids gawked at him and whispered There’s Santa. He ignored them and herded Lincoln and Brie under the portico to wait.
Ten minutes later, as the sun was sinking in the sky, Steve started to worry. Had Hope seen him? Had she eluded him? Was his moment of opportunity gone?
“There’s Hope!” Lincoln cried.
“Where?” Steve whirled around to search the crowd.
“In the VW camper.” Lincoln spouted off statistics about VW models, including Rabbits, Jettas, and Beetles. “Of course, a Beetle isn’t really a Beetle. It’s not a bug. But they do call it a bug—”
“Stop! Zip it, bro!” Steve grabbed his brother’s hand. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“On an adventure.”
Lincoln resisted. “I don’t like adventures.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No.” Lincoln pulled free and stamped the ground. “Remember when we went to the stream on an adventure? It wasn’t fun.”
Steve did recall. At age thirteen, he’d wanted to go fishing in the middle of winter. Lincoln wanted to tag along, and when they got to the stream, Lincoln slipped and fell into the icy water. Talk about a disaster.
“This is a different kind of adventure,” he said. “A safe one. We’re going to follow Hope and her kids to their home.”
“And then what?” Lincoln asked.
I’m getting her to say yes, come hell or highwater.
“I’m going to pitch Hope a softball,” he said. “One she’ll catch and throw back.”
“We didn’t bring any softballs,” Lincoln said, taking Steve literally.
“It’s a metaphor, bro.”
“Stalker,” Brie mumbled good naturedly, and began humming “Little Drummer Boy.”
Lincoln joined in the humming. “I like this song.”
“I know you do,” Brie said, and raised her voice.
“Can it!” Steve ordered.
Brie tittered.
“Can what?” Lincoln asked.
“Nothing. C’mon. Hurry.”
The three of them climbed into Steve’s SUV, and he tore out of the lot. “Seatbelts,” he ordered.
“Hope turned left at the light,” Brie said.
“On it. When we get to their house, Brie, you watch Lincoln, and I’ll make contact.” He caught sight of the VW and slowed a tad. All he had to do was keep it in his sights. “In private, away from the glare of café customers, I’m sure I can convince her to come to her senses.”
“Because you’re such a smooth talker,” Brie joked.
“Because the kids will make her see the light. Once they hear they’ve won, how can she refuse? She’ll be persona non grata if she declines, and I’ll be the hero. Santa the hero.” Steve pounded his chest and let out a Tarzan-like yodel.
Lincoln plugged his ears. “Too loud.”
“Sorry, buddy.”
“Steve,” Brie said, “maybe this idea—”
“Don’t dissuade me. We’re talking about a free trip. For a family of four. To the happiest place on earth.” He cast a sidelong look. “C’mon. Their dad ditched them. Don’t these kids deserve some fun?”
“As much as you deserve to keep your job, I suppose,” Brie said. “Even so, pressing her in front of her kids, well, it’s cruel.”
“Steve is not cruel,” Lincoln said. “He’s my brother.”
Brie said, “I fear one does not rule out the other.”
