“And you say I never take you out to any nice restaurants,” Duma said with a sly grin, as they ate in the food court during Santa’s allotted fifteen-minute break.
But Wintry wasn’t listening. She was viewing the girl off in the distance, who was staring at the poster that was promoting tomorrow’s Candy Stripers auditions at the Macy’s in Herald Square. Wintry checked the file and matched the girl as fourteen-year-old Hope Roberts.
“I’ll be back,” she said, and headed toward the girl. Duma looked momentarily surprised by the sudden departure, before returning his attention to his pile of fries.
She eased up next to the gangly teenager with sandy colored hair tied in a ponytail. It seemed like yesterday when she was that age, when her long legs felt too big for her body and her metal-filled mouth made her not want to speak.
“I can’t believe they’re bringing back Candi Kane & the Candy Stripers, it used to be my favorite show,” Wintry said.
The girl grew enthusiastic. “And this version is going to be more than a teen soap. It’s going to have singing and dancing … kind of like Glee!” She paused for a moment, and added, “My name is Hope, by the way.”
“A perfect name for this time of year. I’m Mrs. Claus.”
“Yeah, if Santa were married to Rihanna you are.”
“He’d probably be too dense to appreciate it, even if I was.” She pointed to the poster. “Are you thinking about auditioning?”
“Me?”
“No, the other person I’m talking to … if you stare at the poster any harder you’re gonna burn a hole in it.”
“Um … I wouldn’t be able to. And besides, there’s gonna be like hundreds of girls there … I would never get picked.”
“You sure as hell aren’t going to get picked if you don’t show up.”
“I have a job over Christmas break, so I gotta work.”
“Trust me, you’ll have plenty of time to work when you’re grown up.”
“My mom lost her job a couple years ago and I’m trying to help out with the bills. She worked at Kerstman.”
“That’s the dude who stole all his employees’ money, right? Then he ran off and hid the loot, or something like that?”
“That’s my life. But it’s pretty much going to be over soon, anyway.”
Wintry looked to the girl with concern. “Don’t you even think like that.”
Hope seemed surprised by the reaction. “Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that when my mom finds out I skipped school today, she’s gonna ground me for like a year.”
“I remember those days … blowing off school to hang out with my friends.”
“I don’t really have any friends at my new school. After we lost our house, we moved to an apartment in Elmsford. I hate it there, and I don’t really know anybody.”
“Well, they’re all gonna want to be your friend when you become one of the Candy Stripers. Is your dad in the picture … maybe he can help convince your mom to let you audition?”
“He’s in the military. He’s basically been over in Afghanistan since I was little, so it’s really just been my mom and me. He won’t be making it home for Christmas … again.”
“You must be very proud of him.”
“I am—I just wish he was around once in awhile so I could tell him.”
“If it makes you feel any better, my dad was stationed at Fort Wherever I’m Not. He took off when I was five, never saw him again.” Wintry motioned to the part of the poster promoting that the new cast would be joining Candi Kane on a Christmas trip to entertain the troops. “Maybe when you get the part, you can get to see him. If he can’t get to you, go to him. I’m sure he’d love to see his little girl perform.”
“Thanks for what you’re doing, but even if I wanted to, I couldn’t afford the entrance fee.”
Wintry pulled out a couple of vouchers and handed them to her. “Santa and I are offering these to Kerstman families who visit us today. I’m giving you two hundred dollars worth to put toward your audition tomorrow.”
Hope studied them. “But it says the money can only be used in the Yonkers Mall.”
“If they’re advertising the Candy Stripers audition in the mall, then it counts. If anyone questions you, tell them that Mrs. Claus said so.”
She continued to stare at the voucher. “Thanks for trying to help, but I just don’t think I can.”
“Listen, I would love to audition for this, but I’m too late. I didn’t chase my dreams as hard as I should have, and I’ll always regret it.”
“Yeah, but you got to marry Santa Claus,” Hope replied with a smile.
“Don’t get me wrong, I have a great guy, two adorable little monsters, and an amazing job at a hot club in the city. But I always wanted to be on Broadway. And as you get older, the excuses fade away and the only thing you’re left with is the fact that you didn’t go for it.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, I appreciate it, but when my mom …”
“This isn’t about your mom, this is about Hope. I think the problem is you really don’t have the talent.”
A determined look came over her face. “I’m good.”
“Prove it to me.”
“What?”
“Look at these people—they’re like a bunch of shopping zombies. Let’s wake ’em up.”
“You want me to sing and dance in the mall?”
“I knew you didn’t have the guts.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Do you remember the ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ scene in Mean Girls?”
“You want to do that here? We don’t even have any music.”
“You said you could sing,” Wintry said and then sung out like she was on Broadway, “What a bright time, it’s the right time to rock the night away.”
Hope hesitantly joined her, “Jingle bell time is a swell time to go riding in a one horse sleigh.”
She found her confidence, and together, their voices grew powerful. And when they added the sultry dance number, they had the crowd in the palm of their hands. It was exhilarating. Wintry had forgotten what a rush it was to perform in front of an audience.
When they finished, the mall crowd gave them a rousing ovation, and someone shouted out, “Encore!”
“I can’t believe we just did that!” Hope gushed, her self-esteem now bouncing off the third floor.
“You up for another?”
“What do you have in mind?”
Wintry searched the crowd to find Duma in the back near the food court, sporting a proud smile on his face. “Do you like Beyonce?”
“Who doesn’t?”
Wintry grinned. “I say we do the one where she sings about ‘if you liked it you should have put a ring on it’.”