“By the way, that is quite the dress you’re wearing.”
Savannah suddenly became aware she was still wearing the Mrs. Claus dress. It didn’t occur to her to stop at home to change. Even though it had only been a little more than a week since The Enchanted Land of Claus opened, Savannah felt it belonged to her, like her ‘second skin’ which was how her mother referred to a favorite old sweater: navy blue with loose threads hanging from the cuffs. Savannah could hardly remember her mother being without it from fall to late spring, and now this is how Savannah felt about the dress. It had become a part of her, totally forgetting she had it on.
“I probably should go back and change,” she said, watching Matthew pull out the Yellow Pumpkin Thanksgiving dinner fixings. The food smelled heavenly as pangs of hunger thrust through Savannah’s stomach. That dry piece of toast at six am no longer staved off her hunger.
”Don’t be silly. People don’t dress up anymore these days, plus how many people can say they had Thanksgiving dinner with Mrs. Claus? Besides,” he said, peeking into the other bags, ”aha, plenty of napkins.” Matthew pulled out a wad of bright orange- and chestnut-colored napkins and laid them with a flourish in front of Savannah.
“No worries. And spills or stains can be blamed on me. Just enjoy.”
Matthew’s smile sent a tiny shock through Savannah, and she hoped he didn’t notice the heat she felt creeping into her cheeks. She watched him take out containers of gravy, mashed potatoes, butternut squash, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. He reached into another bag and pulled out a cellophane wrapped platter of carved turkey.
“Ah, and my personal favorite,” he laughed as he put two huge, golden-brown turkey legs on the table.
“Those look like something out of King Arthur’s court,” Savannah chuckled as she helped unwrap the food.
“No kidding,” he said, sitting down and helping himself to a huge spoonful of mashed potatoes. ”I feel like I need to wear my suit of armor when I eat them. And I’m not kidding—I actually have a suit of armor.”
“Oh, I love medieval history. My first dog was a chocolate lab I named Morgaine Le Fay, after King Arthur’s half-sister. How did you come across a suit of armor?” she asked, spooning apple-raisin stuffing on top of her sliced turkey.
“Funny you should ask,” Matthew laughed, unfurling a napkin and placing it on his lap. ”I won it. A knight, or lancer, was my high school mascot and it stood in the entryway of the school. Every graduation one was raffled off—I have no idea where the school got these things—and the year I graduated, I won. And no matter how many times I’ve moved over the years, Sir Lucan, or Luke, has moved with me. Kind of like my own personal knight in shining armor.”
“Sir Lucan?” questioned Savannah. She grabbed another napkin and tucked it into her collar, ensuring that not a drop of gravy would drip on the precious dress.
“One of Arthur’s less famous knights, known for his loyalty, especially devoted to Arthur during his skirmishes with Lancelot. Faithful to the end.”
Savannah lifted her glass in a toast.
“To Sir Lucan, the most faithful wearer of armor a king could ask for.”
“To Sir Lucan,” smiled Matthew, clinking his glass of amber cider with Savannah’s.
Matthew reached for a handful of napkins.
“Laura, the manager, knows I’m a slob, so she really stepped up for the holiday,” he laughed, handing Savannah more napkins.
“Well, thank you, Sir Matthew,” Savannah replied, rising from her chair and bowing in a curtsey before him.
“One can never be too careful,” Savannah said, seating herself, taking several more napkins and heaping them on her lap.
“I might look ridiculous, but this dress is going to see a big day tomorrow and no one wants to see Mrs. Claus with gravy stains on her dress. Besides, Fern will kill me,” she laughed, helping herself to the potatoes and gravy.
“So,” Savannah said in between delicious mouthfuls of turkey, ”you need to be back in the store later tonight?”
“I do,” he said, taking a sip of cider.”I’ll be back at about three am, with a small crew just to make sure everything is in working order. Believe it or not, we still haven’t seen the crowds yet, as there are some people who absolutely refuse to Christmas shop until the day after Thanksgiving. Those are our hard traditionalists that we want coming back, hence the old traditions part of old traditions, new twists. So, you’ll need your rest tonight, Mrs. Claus.”
“Well, I intend to get it. Just me and my book then lights out.” Without warning, a bolt of debilitating melancholy struck. Savannah bent her head and put her hands to her eyes. She inhaled deeply, trying to focus on her dinner, but she was overcome with a sudden sadness—something she thought she had conquered, but evidently that was not the case.
“I’m sorry, Savannah. Did I say something to upset you?” asked Matthew. She could hear the concern in his voice, and as quickly as it struck her, the sadness suddenly evaporated.
“No, it’s not you. It’s me.” She took a deep breath and feeling that Matthew was someone she could talk to, she began her confession.
“I’ve been widowed for two years now, and holidays have been hard since my husband passed. And this year, my son started a job in Switzerland, and it’s the first time we’ve spent a holiday apart. Cooking for Sylvene and Jolene was such a welcomed distraction. I guess this room, so festive and with a fireplace, well, it reminds me of happier times, I thought I would be able to make it through the day without crying, but, well, I got close.” She forced a smile but when feelings of loneliness suddenly took their siege, Savannah was rendered powerless in stopping them.
“Well, that makes two of us,” Matthew said, pulling his chair closer to the table and resting his elbows on the side of his plate.
“I’m divorced, and according to my wife, or ex-wife, she and I should never have married in the first place, but we did, and I can’t say I regret it because I have a beautiful daughter. She’s with her mother in London. My ex manages one of those huge hotel chains there. Summer, my ex-wife is a good mother, and she and Athena are very close. It hurt like hell when Athena told me she wanted to try and live in London instead of staying in the States, but turns out she loves it. She’s a horse lover, and she is becoming quite the equestrienne. I visited before I started at Howardson’s, and it’s as if she belongs there. You know, the quintessential English country house with the greenest fields imaginable for riding all day. I miss her like crazy, but I’m glad for her, too. I know she’s happy, but, well, call me selfish, I’d give anything to be spending the holidays with her.”
Savannah’s sadness lifted, realizing she wasn’t the only one alone on Thanksgiving.
“When my son moved earlier this year, and I knew he wouldn’t make it home for the holidays, I booked a Christmas vacation in the wilds of the White Mountains at The Blue Spruce Inn. It sounds like a fairy tale Christmas, and I could use that right about now. The family who runs the inn raises golden retrievers who hike with the guests. I especially can’t wait for that. I miss my own dog so much.”
Savannah noticed a slight smile form on Matthew’s face.
“Have you heard of The Blue Spruce Inn?”
“It sounds very familiar. My family lives a few hours north in the middle of nowhere.” Savannah watched as his face brightened with the mention of his family.
“I’m glad you have family relatively close by. I think that helps. Especially during the holidays.”
Savannah poured herself another glass of cider.
“Me and my Christmas fantasies. Please stop me if you’ve heard enough.”
“I love Christmas fantasies—obviously, as I created one—and dogs too.” Matthew said, ”but with my lifestyle right now, especially trying to get to London as often as possible, well, there’s barely time to breathe. But my mother has dogs up there in the mountains, and they’re mine again whenever I visit. Best of both worlds, you could say.”
Savannah turned toward the bonging of the huge clock above the fireplace. It was already five o’clock and darkness was quickly descending, as the soft glow of candlelight descended upon the room, and another couple arrived and sat in front of the fire.
“Well, Matthew, I think I should get myself home. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.”
Matthew rose from his seat, brushed his hands on his pants and put his hands inside of his trouser pockets, immediately comforted by the handkerchief.
“Let me help you clear…”
“Absolutely not. You were my guest, and great company for this single dad. Plus, you cooked an entire Thanksgiving dinner for people you hardly know and did me the great favor of sparing me a holiday spent only with Sir Luke. That’s very selfless of you, Savannah. I should be thanking you.”
Savannah was touched by his words and a bit embarrassed, and she felt her cheeks turn warm at his words, leaving her almost tongue-tied herself.
“Well, good night and thanks again.” Savannah walked toward the front door.
“Savannah, wait!” Matthew shouted as she opened the door. A cold breeze ripped into the entryway, sending shivers through Savannah’s body. Or was the quavering more of a result of hearing him call her name?
“My mother would box my ears if she found out I didn’t escort a lady to her car. And Mrs. Claus at that!” He took the door from Savannah and let her step outside. The air was frosty and the sky arcing from the light lavender of sunset to the inky blue of dusk. Bold hues of dark pink and purple fringes could be seen on the horizon, but for all intents and purposes, the pleasant Thanksgiving afternoon had morphed into Thanksgiving evening, and was ending all too quickly.
Savannah pressed the car keypad, sounding the loud beep and the click of her car opening. Matthew opened the driver door for her, and she got inside the frigid car.
“Thanks again, Matthew. You certainly made my Thanksgiving less lonely.” She smiled, her heart lifting in happiness.
“Likewise,” Matthew said, closing the car door.
Savannah rolled down the window. Her eyes locked with his, as her heartbeat accelerated. What was happening?
“M’lady, I thank thee for a lovely holiday and bid you a fond farewell.” Matthew took Savannah’s hand that was resting on the car door and gently raised it to his lips and lightly kissed it.
Savannah trembled as she slowly slipped her hand from his and turned up the soft fur collar of the dress.
Did he feel it too? She thought as a current of sharp electricity ran through her body.
“Fare thee well, Sir Matthew,” she laughed, inserting the key into the ignition.
“What a couple of nerds, huh?” Matthew laughed as he pulled away from Savannah’s car, his smile lighting up the dark late autumn afternoon.
“Mrs. Claus is no nerd, Sir. Savannah Brady well, that’s a different story. See you tomorrow. Happy Thanksgiving and thanks so much again!”
Savannah gave a little wave, rolled up the window and pulled out into the street toward home. She could see Matthew in her rearview mirror until she signaled and took the turn that would take her home, and out of his sight.
Later that evening, Savannah snuggled under her thick quilt, a gift from Patrick, a constant reminder of the love of her son. It was the afternoon of his departure, and they had strolled past Howardson’s. The window display featured a bedroom decorated in the most pretty and calming hues: Light green fluttery curtains the color of newly sprouted grass hung from a window. A glider the color of pink sherbet was nestled in the corner near the window, but it was the bed that was the main feature of the window display, and it was adorned with the most beautiful quilt Savannah had ever seen. It had a pale blue background the color of an early morning summer sky with big bright sunflowers stitched into the corners with an extra-large one right in the center. The sunflowers’ tender brown faces were framed by delicate triangular petals the color of summer sunshine and their long slender emerald stems and leaves stretched as if reaching for the sunny sky.
Savannah’s grandmother was a master quilter and as many times as she tried to learn from her, Savannah didn’t have the patience. She became easily disgruntled when her stitching wasn’t straight, or if the simple design of a five-pointed star looked more like a meteor shower, and she would throw down her needle and thread and thump off in frustration. As much as she wanted, Savannah just was not able to sit still and sew. If she was going to sit, she’d prefer to have a book in her hand, where she could solve mysteries alongside Nancy Drew or pretend to be the fifth March sister. Reading brought Savannah instant joy and gratification, but stitching irritated her, and she was unable to see the prospect of beauty that little stitches would eventually create. But, oh, how she wished she possessed the fortitude it took for the simple patience of her grandmother to create an heirloom to last generations. If only she could make that beautiful quilt in the window.
But Savannah couldn’t. The day after their farewell lunch, a Howardson’s delivery truck left a large package at Savannah’s door. She couldn’t imagine what it could be, and when she opened it and removed the beautifully wrapped quilt, tears instantly sprang from her eyes. A large envelope had been taped to the package. She opened this just as carefully, and gently pulled out a card. It wasn’t the run of the mill flat type but one that was three-dimensional. She folded it according to the directions, and she soon had a sweet bouquet of sunflowers tucked inside of a blue wooden box. There was a flap on the center of the box part of the card, and when she flipped it open she read:
A bouquet that will last for every season of the year. Enjoy your new quilt.
All my love, Patrick.
It was as if her little boy’s arms were wrapped around her whenever she ensconced herself in her quilt. And now, this peaceful Thanksgiving evening, she was able to reflect on the holiday, grateful being able to grant the wish of a child and grateful as well to have had an unexpected holiday dinner with a soul as lonely as her own.
Savannah knew sleep was a necessity tonight, but she was restless and too excited to get to bed just yet and decided to do a little prepping for the long day ahead. She pulled out a foot bath from her closet she received a couple of Christmases ago in a Yankee Swap at her office.
“Maybe some foot massaging will relax me, oh, and some candles, too,” she said, lighting sea blue ocean-scented candles.
“I never thought I’d use this,” she laughed, the rippling warm water gently soothing her feet. She sat on her couch and closed her eyes, imagining herself standing in the surf at magical Tybee Island. Her parents brought her there for their fifteenth wedding anniversary when she was fourteen, so many years ago. She could still recall standing right at the shoreline with the salty ocean water tickling her toes and the breeze of the spraying ocean mist on her face and hair. The sea breeze candles worked to recapture the atmosphere of the coastal city for which she was named.
Savannah then recalled her mother’s favorite story of the city in which she met the love of her life.
Savannah’s mother, Cecilia, planned a weekend visit with her best friend, Delphina, who had moved to the city when she married the previous year. As the warm water lapped at her feet, Savannah could hear her mother’s wistful voice recall the day, as her mother always said, ”that changed my life forever.”
“It was the last weekend in April,” Cecilia would begin, ”and the weather could not have been more perfect. The sun was shining, and the sky was a brilliant blue. The air was warm, with just a touch of humidity, nothing like what would follow in the summer. It was just wonderful weather and all I wanted was to be outside.
“Such sweet tropical exotic scents I never experienced rode in on every breeze. Camellias, and the azaleas, oh, the azaleas. The prettiest pinks, purples, and even red and yellow. And the tea olive trees. Their scent is indescribable, and I can only say it is the scent of heaven. And when I stepped off that train and saw my first palm tree swaying gracefully in the Georgia breeze, I just fell in love.
“Delphina and I were walking down ultra-fancy Broughton Street, happily window shopping, which was all we could afford, when the pretty, bright spring sky suddenly turned coal black. Out of nowhere, thick sheets of rain slashed from the sky, but we were lucky enough to be able to duck under the awning of a storefront. Of course we were not the only ones with that brilliant idea. I was so mesmerized watching the huge slate gray clouds scurry through the sky that I lost sight of Delphina. Just as I realized this, I felt myself being pushed onto the wet pavement, falling down as hard as the rain. I can still feel that unexpected sensation of losing my balance and landing right on my backside. Very fortunately, not so hard that I broke anything, thank the Lord, but hard enough that I was sore for days.
“‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ was all I heard and when I looked up, I thought the storm had passed and the sky cleared as I was staring into the brightest pair of green eyes I had ever seen. Eyes just like yours, Savannah, dear.
“This pair of green eyes got closer to mine, as strong arms gently took hold of my shoulders and pulled me upright. This green-eyed man was being so polite and careful and ever so apologetic, never mind handsome as could be. Those green eyes sat in a ruddy-complected face surrounded by hair that was as black as the stormy sky. His smile was so sweet and friendly, well, I knew then and there, this was the man for me.
“Then next thing I know Delphina appears calling ‘Sean Gallagher, what in the world!’ She hadn’t been in Savannah a year and she had already picked up a Southern accent, and I almost didn’t recognize her voice. ‘What have you done to my friend?’ I could see the smile behind her feigned anger but decided to play along.
‘Delphina, all this talk of Southern gentlemanly-ness and chivalry. This man knocked me off my feet!’
I saw the twinkle in those emerald green eyes of his, and I knew right there this man would be my husband.
“Well, Delphina was blathering on about something but neither I nor Sean heard her, we were just lost in each other. Evidently, he had been invited to the little party she was giving me before I headed back to Boston, and she invited Sean because he was heading up north in the fall for a job, and Delphina wanted to be sure he knew at least one person in the cold unfriendly North. That night at the party, if there was anyone else there, we didn’t notice.
We exchanged addresses and we wrote to each other until he arrived, and from that moment on, we were inseparable. My parents were none too happy about me spending all this time with someone I barely knew, but they were ever so wrong. I knew this man the moment I first looked into his handsome face, and we married on the day we met one year later. We thought we were happy until you came along, and then we really knew what happiness was. I always told your father if it’s a girl we are going to name her Savannah Georgia Gallagher. I always joked with him, telling him that way he’d never forget where we met. And he’d always say back to me, ‘I would never forget where I met the love of my life.’”
Savannah’s eyes moistened with tears, recalling her mother’s face whenever she told Savannah the story of how her parents met, that pure and honest look of love that always softened the sadness behind her mother’s eyes when she spoke of her husband after he passed away. Sean and Cecilia were married fifty years. Cecilia was never quite the same after Sean’s death, and Savannah swore her mother died of a broken heart, joining her beloved husband in heaven one year later.
Savannah missed her parents terribly, and she needed them so much when Bradley died, but she was always certain of two things: That they were now and forever together, and that Savannah knew they were with her during those dark days after Bradley’s passing.
Run-of-the-mill grotesque horrors of girlhood such as snakes, bee stings or the boogeyman never terrified Savannah as they did her friends. But one thing did: her parents dying. She prayed she would be married with children of her own when that day came, which it did when Savannah was a wife and mother, but throughout her childhood, losing her parents was the stuff of her nightmares.
During one especially petrifying nightmare that Savannah could still recall to this day, she woke up in a cold sweat, having just dreamed her parents were dead. She woke up screaming uncontrollably and sobbing so hard she could not catch her breath and found herself in the throes of a full-blown anxiety attack. Her eyes were shut so tight they hurt, tears streaming down her face, and she could not control the violent shaking of her body.
Cecilia rushed into her daughter’s room and flicked on the light, trying to console her daughter. Savannah opened her eyes and her heart slowed. The clean scent of her mother’s perfume, and the comfort of her soft arms safely in her mother’s embrace, brought Savannah out of her nightmare and back into reality. It was nothing but a horrible dream. Her mother was at her side, and her father, who could sleep through a hurricane, was tucked under the blankets in his bed, and her mother gently rocked and soothed her daughter.
“I know it was a bad dream, Savannah, dear, but I want you to remember one thing.” Her mother’s voice was calm and loving and she kissed Savannah’s tear-stained face, while listening to her daughter relive the terror of her dream.
“Your father and I are not going anywhere for a very long time, and when we do, you will have a family of your own who will be there to comfort you. But take comfort, my sweet daughter, in knowing that your father and I might not physically be here for you, we will still always be with you. Any kind of help you may need, you just call on us, and we will be there for you. Never, ever worry about that.”
Savannah’s mother had kept her promise. Whenever dark times descended upon Savannah, a sign from her mother would unfailingly appear. Cecilia’s birthdate, June 27, was important to her mother and she always used it for her pin number and occasionally played it in the lottery. Shortly after Bradley’s death, when Savannah was in the dark grips of grief, 627 suddenly appeared everywhere—in the license plate of the car in front of her when she was sitting in traffic, in the phone number of a TV infomercial, or the expiration date of a box of pancake mix. Savannah knew it was never a coincidence—whenever Savannah felt at her lowest—627 would appear, and she knew her mother was with her so much so that whenever she glanced at the clock in the morning or evening and it was 6:27, or if the number appeared on a receipt, she always smiled and said ”Hi, Mom.” Even in death, Cecilia Gallagher kept her promise to her daughter.
Savannah glanced at the clock. 6:27 pm.
“Hi, Mom,” she smiled, sighing aloud, thinking of when she could return to her namesake piece of paradise. All of her extra cash she made at Howardson’s just paid for her Christmas vacation, so if she had any left over, she would start a Savannah, Georgia fund for her next vacation.
“One has to have something to look forward to,” she said as she inhaled the calming sea-salt scent of the candles. She closed her eyes and let her mind unwind, thinking of the majestic wooden doors opening on the biggest shopping day of the year, and The Enchanted Land of Claus, Black Friday edition, would spring to life. As busy as it was before Thanksgiving, Savannah had a feeling Matthew was right, and that the crowds at Howardson’s pre-Thanksgiving would be nothing compared to the truly official start of the Howardson’s Christmas shopping season. Savannah knew, as she felt her eyes grow heavy, there was no place she would rather be than The Enchanted Land of Claus.