Bailey Reed ran into the house. The trip to Rhode Island was fun, but he couldn’t wait to get home to see if Santa remembered to stop at their house.
He dashed right through the kitchen, and when he arrived in the living room, he froze—not only did Santa come, but standing before him was the biggest tree he’d ever seen. And it was surrounded by a pile of presents!
Stu Reed arrived moments later, unsuccessfully trying to keep up with the energetic youngster. “Good lord,” he said, stunned by the sight before him.
“Did Mom do this?” Bailey asked.
“This looks like the work of Santa,” Stu said.
“Where is Mom? I hope she’s feeling better.”
Good question, Stu thought. Maybe she was in bed, having not joined them on their trip due to a sudden stomach bug. But he knew she was faking, so she likely felt better the minute they left the driveway.
Stu started toward the stairway that would take him up to their bedroom, but then he saw her. She was laid out on a Barcalounger that was hidden by the branches of the large tree. She was in her bathrobe, and her face was as white as a ghost. As he drew closer, Stu could smell the alcohol.
His first thought was that she was dead, and pulled Bailey back as he tried to go to her. He then made his way to his wife. “Mary,” he shook her, thankfully feeling warmth in her skin and noticing a breath. “Mary—it’s Bailey and me. We came home for Christmas.”
Her eyes slowly opened. “Stu?” she said groggily.
“Yes, it’s me and Bailey. Are you okay?”
She sat up slowly and looked around the room with wonder. “I had a dream that you were here last night.”
“Did you put up this tree, Mare? And all these gifts?”
“I thought it was you … last night … but I guess it really was Santa Claus.”
She sounded confused, and was making little sense. “Did you see Santa Claus in this dream?”
“I thought it was a dream, but it felt so real.” She began searching for something with her eyes.
“What are you looking for?” Stu asked, confused.
“The shotgun.”
“Why would you have a shotgun? Did someone try to break in?”
When she couldn’t find one, she said, “I guess I didn’t. Maybe it was a dream after all.”
Stu was confused. Dream. Not a dream. Maybe a dream. But there was nothing confusing about the hug she encased Bailey in. “Merry Christmas, Mom. I love you!”
“I love you too, Bailey,” she replied, her senses returning. She looked at Stu. “I called last night. Your brother said you weren’t there. I was worried that … something happened to you.”
Stu handed her a wrapped package. “I was out looking for this.”
She looked surprised by it, and unsure. “Go ahead, open it,” Bailey urged.
When she did, her face lit up. “It’s my necklace.”
Stu smiled. “I tracked down the guy I sold it to. Cost me twice what I got for it, but I realized that there’s a lot more important things in life than money.” He took a long look at his wife and son, as if to remind himself.
Mary struggled to her feet and grabbed hold of him like she hadn’t done in years. She kissed him. He’d almost forgotten how much he loved those lips.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she said firmly.
He knew she didn’t just mean selling off her necklace without telling her. She was referring to the dark place he’d gone to. But there was something about the intensity in Zee Thomas’ words at the police station. It was like he was an angel who’d come to warn him about the future. And it just wasn’t any angel—it was Stu’s baseball hero. He even bought a house on the same street Zee Thomas had grown up on. It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Who says that heroes don’t matter anymore?
“Who’s up for Christmas breakfast at the Tarrytown Café?” Stu asked.
It was an easy sell for Bailey. But Mary wasn’t so sure. “What about all these gifts? Shouldn’t we open them first?”
“They’ll be here when we get back, I’m starving,” Stu said.
Mary smiled her approval, then headed upstairs to freshen up.
Stu strolled into the kitchen to get the car keys that he’d dropped during his pursuit of Bailey. He was drawn to a spot on the wall behind the stove, and examined it closely. It seemed that it had been filled in with Spackle. Strange. And there were similar touch-ups nearby. He guessed that Bailey had caused some damage while playing ball in the house, and attempted to cover it up. He had performed similar touch-up jobs at his parents’ home when he was growing up.
When he walked to the counter to pick up his keys, he spotted the note. It was typed with instructions telling them to check their bank account immediately.
When Mary came into the kitchen, looking like a new woman, he showed her the note. She looked curiously at it, not remembering leaving it there, but she wasn’t exactly the best witness of what happened here last night. She assumed it was junk mail from their bank that she’d dropped on the counter, but Stu thought it was connected to the large tree in the living room, and wondered if they might be part of another scam.
Mary shrugged. “There’s barely any money in our account. It’s not like anyone can steal anything if they got into it. We can check it out when we come back.”
Stu agreed. There was no time to put the important things off any longer. He dropped the note back on the counter and headed for breakfast with his family.