Hope Roberts stepped out of the taxi at Herald Square. She felt like she was standing at the center of the Christmas universe. Swarms of last minute shoppers raced by her, the smell of roasting chestnuts drifted from pushcarts, and the Salvation Army rang their bells.
In front of her stood Macy’s, with its large sign reading Believe. She didn’t exactly believe that she would get one of the final two spots for the new Candy Stripers, but like her name, she did have some hope.
Not to say it wouldn’t be the long shot of all long shots. And noticing the many power-shopping women gliding by her in their stylish outfits, gripping their giant shopping bags, she realized how over her head she was. She was anything but stylish in her heavy parka that covered her flannel shirt and jeans, with her hair worn in a ponytail. It was the outfit she wore for her job at the Christmas tree lot, which she cut out of early this morning, claiming she was suffering from “female issues”—an excuse that never failed to work on her male boss. She then raced to the train, and an hour later here she was.
She rushed into the revolving doors of the Seventh Avenue entrance. Maybe too fast. Her backpack got stuck as the door rotated and she fell, the bag remaining lodged in the door and dragging her. A security guard saved her from being trampled to death, but not from embarrassment.
She had no more time to waste—it would truly be a Miracle on 34th Street for her to make it to the audition on time. She secured her bag and ran past the dirty looks of the shoppers she’d held up, and into the block-long main floor. Her focus was grabbed by the decorated display cases and the model-looking women offering samples of the latest perfume, which caused her to run right into … Mrs. Claus.
Hope began to apologize, but then she realized who it was. She was stunned. “Oh my God, what are you doing here!?”
“I work here. Santa and I are doing some meet and greets on the fifth floor. I think the real question is—what suddenly got into you?”
“I’m … um … I thought about what you said and ...”
Mrs. Claus grinned. “About time you decided to take my advice.”
“About time? I just met you yesterday.”
“Better late than never. But too bad you’re not gonna get the part.”
“Then why did you convince me to come here?”
“I didn’t convince you of anything—you’re here because you want to be here. I meant you’re not going to become a Candy Striper in that outfit. Where do you live, in the woods?” She brushed pine needles off Hope’s shoulder.
“I had to go to my job at the Christmas tree lot to fake out my mom. I brought my hair and makeup stuff.” She held up the backpack as proof. “And I read that they provide the wardrobe for the contestants.”
“Why are you talking to me?”
“What? You asked me a question.”
“You didn’t come here to be interviewed by me, you came to win that spot. So don’t let anybody trash-talk you out of your dreams, especially some Mrs. Claus impersonator who took the easy way out. Now get your ass to that audition before it’s too late!”
“I think I may already be too late—look at that line for registration. I’m never going to make it.”
Mrs. Claus eyed the endless line of hopefuls. She then turned back to Hope and handed her a sheet of paper.
“What’s this?”
“It’s your registration—I filled it out and paid for you. All you gotta do is sign it. Think of it as your EZ Pass to destiny.”
Hope couldn’t believe it. How did she know that she would even show up? “Are you following me or something?”
“The only thing anyone should be following is their dreams. Now get going!”
She didn’t have to say it twice. Hope practically ran to the wooden escalators that took her to the sixth floor. She handed in her registration and was taken to a fitting room to prepare. And there it was.
Hanging up was the uniform she’d dreamed of wearing since she was a little girl. The iconic red and white Candy Striper uniform, with its short skirt and white boots.
She got ready in record time and was taken to a large cattle-call room with all the others. All tall and gorgeous, and probably with professional experience. Each contestant was given a short script to memorize, and lyrics to the song they were to sing. When Hope saw what the song was, she felt for the first time that Mrs. Claus might be right—maybe it was destiny.
The first test was the interview. They would be taken in front of the judges and asked about themselves. It wasn’t so much about the answers, but to see if they had the charisma and presence to be a Candy Striper. The “it” factor.
When she was called, Hope stepped into a room that featured a large window that looked out onto Broadway, with a direct view of the Empire State Building. But the skyscraper wasn’t half as intimidating as the sight before her. Candi Kane was sitting at the center of the judge’s table and staring right at her.