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After dinner Tuesday night, Hope accompanied the children to the facilities at the trailer park. They brushed their teeth and washed their faces, and then she took a comb to their hair to remove remnants of royal icing. When they returned to the camper, she said, “Do you want a Christmas Eve present?”
Their eyes lit up.
She handed each of them their rummage sale gifts. She’d wrapped them in wrapping paper purchased at the dollar store and had taken extra care to craft a pretty tag. “For you, Melody, and for you, Todd.”
“You go first,” Melody said to her brother.
Todd ripped open his package and found a binder filled with baseball trading cards. Hope knew that none were valuable, but Todd wouldn’t care. He would memorize every statistic and rearrange them for months. “I love it!” he cried, and hugged his mother. Then he looked expectantly at Melody. “Your turn.”
Slowly, carefully, she pulled the tape off the corners of her gift, the same way Hope’s mother had. She hated tearing into a present.
“Hurry,” Todd cried.
“No. I want to take my time.” When she finally got the package unwrapped, she gasped. “Oh, Mommy, she’s perfect.”
Hope hadn’t believed her luck when she’d found the blond, basketball-playing bobblehead with the red-and-white jersey.
Melody tapped the doll’s head and giggled as it wobbled to and fro. “She looks like me.”
“Yes, she does. I thought she could inspire you to greatness.”
“Like that’ll happen,” Melody sassed.
“You never know.”
Melody hugged Hope with the same fierceness she’d displayed at the bus station, further reassuring Hope that her daughter wouldn’t be running away again any time soon.
“Okay, time for bed.” She tucked them into their sleep sacks.
“Mom,” Melody whispered. “Someday will you tell us the truth about Daddy and show us pictures?”
A pang shot through Hope. She swallowed hard. It had been selfish of her to keep him from them. Her bitterness didn’t need to seep into their memories. “Yes, sweetheart. How about on New Year’s Day?”
“Do you mean it?”
Hope nodded. It would also be her new year’s resolution to track him down, somehow, some way.
“Can we listen to the radio tonight?” Melody asked.
“No, it’s too late. It’s been a very long day. Besides—”
“Santa won’t come if we’re awake,” Todd said.
Melody gave her mother a sidelong look.
Hope waved her off. “That’s right, sweet boy.” She kissed them both and said, “Sleep tight and dream with the angels.”
––––––––
At six a.m. Wednesday, Hope awoke with a start. Quietly, she slipped out of her sleeping bag and inserted a ten-dollar bill into each of her children’s stockings. Then she dressed in a red sweater and corduroys, hurried to the facilities to do her ablutions, and returned to wait and watch as her children awoke.
Todd was first. His eyes opened wide with wonder when he saw money poking from his stocking. “Wow! How did Santa know I needed this?” He flapped the bill in the air. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to bring me what I wanted because he didn’t make it. It’s at the Toy Palace. Can we go there? Please, Mom?”
“In the next few days.”
Todd hooted. “Melody, what did you get?”
Hope elbowed her daughter.
“The same thing!” Melody said with exaggerated animation. “That Santa is so smart.”
Hope blew her daughter a kiss and mouthed: I love you.
Melody returned the sentiment.
Hope clapped. “Okay, open up your presents.”
“Wait!” Todd reached into his backpack and pulled out a handmade envelope. “For you, Mom.”
Hope opened it and withdrew a small booklet held together with staples. On the cover were three stick figures holding hands. They were flanked by a boxy VW camper and the Hope Valley Christmas tree.
“Read it,” Todd said. “It’s our story. I drew the pictures. Melody wrote the words.”
Her heart swelled with joy as she read the book from front to cover. Melody’s beautiful cursive writing told the story of a mother who showered her children with love and boosted their confidence, which meant they were the luckiest children on earth.
“I love you both so much,” she gushed, and gathered them in her arms. “Best Christmas present ever.”
After the children opened their other gifts—Melody loved her book and Todd was super excited about his graphic novel—Hope announced it was time to make breakfast.
“Can we listen to Christmas music?” Melody asked.
“Sure.” Hope turned on the radio, certain one of the stations would be airing nonstop tunes throughout the morning.
As it turned out, KQHV was doing just that. “The Happiest Season of All” was in the queue.
Using the microwave, Hope put together three bowls of oatmeal with sliced bananas and a dash of sugar-free brown sugar, then she propped up the dining table with its single leg, and said, “Sit.”
They all tucked into breakfast.
When the song ended, and Mr. Q said, “Hey, Hope Valley-ites, if you’re just tuning in, then you’re late. Where have you been all night?” He clucked his tongue. “You’ve missed all the excitement. We have raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for Project Christmas Hope Valley. Take it away, Santa.” Mr. Q made a funny whooshing sound followed by the tinkling of bells.
“Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas, Hope Valley,” a familiar voice said.
“That’s Steve!” Todd pointed at the dashboard. “Mom, that’s him.”
“As I’ve been saying for the past twenty-four hours, Project Christmas Hope Valley,” Steve continued, “is all about our residents stepping up and helping our disenfranchised neighbors. Don’t we have enough for everyone? Isn’t it time we shared? C’mon, you must have seen the posters around town. Donate. With your help, Capellini Associates will build, at cost . . .”
As Steve continued his pitch, it dawned on Hope that his charitable project must have been the reason why he’d missed the gingerbread house event. He hadn’t been selfishly pursuing his own happiness; he’d been helping Hope Valley. She felt a tug on her heartstrings and tears pooled in her eyes as she realized that this was exactly who she’d dreamed he would be. How she wished she could start over with him, but she knew that was an impossibility. He wouldn’t be able to make room in his life for her, not even as a friend now that Gloria was back in the picture, and her chest heaved with an ache she couldn’t shake.
Melody said, “Steve is really nice, isn’t he?”
Hope nodded. “Yes.” Her throat clogged with emotion. “Yes, he is.”
Someone knocked on the camper’s door.
Hope juddered. Was a trailer park resident going to complain that she was playing the radio too loudly? Sighing, she said, “Stay seated,” and moved to the door.
“Hope!” a man called.
Hope paused as she grasped the door handle. It wasn’t a resident. It was Gabe. Until Saturday, he’d had no idea how she and the children lived. She prayed he hadn’t come to take pity on them.
Shimmying away embarrassment, she finger-combed her hair and opened the door. “Merry Christmas,” she said with forced cheeriness.
Gabe, bundled in his black overcoat and wool cap, stood with his arm around Brie, who was wearing the winter jumpsuit Hope had seen the owner of Cathy’s Closet tweaking in the window. Zerena was with them, looking blissful in a red parka over white jeans, candy-cane striped scarf tied artfully around her neck, and red gloves. Hope regarded Brie for a second time and, realizing she wasn’t aiming a camera at her, breathed easier.
“Merry Christmas,” the trio sang.
“What brings you to my neck of the woods?” Hope asked. “It’s not the typical spot for caroling.”
“Mom, who is it?” Melody called.
“Gabe, Brie, and Zerena.” She eyed her boss. “I’d invite you in, but it could get a bit crowded.”
Gabe grinned, clearly doing his best not to feel sorry for Hope. “No worries. This isn’t a social visit. It’s business. I’ve decided to retire.”
“I heard a rumor.”
“This time I mean it.”
Hope’s insides wrenched. Had he stopped by to say he was going to sell the place? On Christmas? Did he lack all sensitivity as to how she’d take the news? She glanced worriedly at Zerena and back at Gabe.
After a long moment, she accepted her fate. “Why tell me today?”
“Because, darling Hope”—he gave Brie a quick squeeze—“my beloved and I want to travel the US of A while we have time so . . .” He let the word hang in the air.
Brie prodded him.
“So I was wondering if you would like to manage the café with Zerena?”
Zerena let out an eek of excitement. “Say yes! Say yes!”
“Wh-what?” Hope sputtered.
“You two manage it, and along the way, maybe we could work out a plan where you two buy me out.”
“Please say yes, Hope.” Zerena aimed a finger at Hope and back at herself. “You. Me. Partners. I’ll be great at promotion and balancing books and bossing people around. You’ll manage the kitchen and baking, and, well, what could be better?”
Hope’s mouth fell open. “But, Gabe, what about your daughter?”
Gabe snorted. “She’s never moving back to Hope Valley, and she’s set for money with that fancy career of hers. Being mayor of Hope Valley established her course in politics years ago. Who knows? Maybe she’ll run for president.”
Hope bit back a laugh, recalling how Steve had asked her if she’d wanted to become president, and she’d said not on a bet.
“So . . . will you?” Gabe flourished a hand. “There will be an insurance package and four-oh-one-K included for all employees. Did I mention that?”
“Please say yes. Please, please.” Zerena pressed her hands together in prayer. “Just think. You can bake all the pies you want!”
“Yes!” Hope cried. “Yes, of course.” She leaped from the camper and threw her arms around Gabe. And then Zerena. And before she knew it, it became a group hug with Brie getting in on the action.
