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The rest of the week passed in a blur. Bradley had stayed at Jessica’s side all week. He ran errands, he brought her lunch during the day, and made sure she got dinner at night. He even called after she’d gone home to make sure she went to bed on time.
And on Friday night, when she thought her eyes would stay permanently crossed from looking at spreadsheets full of details for both the event and Bretton’s bottom line, Bradley rescued her and drove her out to see the few Christmas lights that had started to pop up across town.
Afterwards, Bradley took her to the Point Provident lighthouse, where they sat under blankets and looked at the stars.
And then he kissed her until she completely forgot about spreadsheets and bank accounts and wassail and chestnuts.
Jessica didn’t remember a time when Bradley hadn’t been by her side. And she didn’t want to think about how it might be after the Victorian Christmas. She knew he’d be more involved with his restructured job over at the Park Board—it only made sense—but she hoped they could still find a way for dinners together and stargazing at the edge of Port Provident.
Oh, and the kisses. She needed to make sure they’d always have time for those.
But until then, they’d have wassail and choirs. And pet adoptions and a princess waving to the crowd. They weren’t able to pull off a full parade—Bradley couldn’t find a loophole to make that one work—but Princess Anneliese had said she’d make herself available for photos at the square in the afternoon.
The generosity of the community had overwhelmed her. Port Provident had risen above the storm and come together with a deep sense of Christmas spirit that would not soon be forgotten.
And it never would have happened without Anita’s photos and Bradley’s planning.
She owed them both a deep debt of gratitude for her renewed faith in what was to come.
But first, she needed to make it through today.
Jessica looked over the stack of flyers on the corner of the front counter at Bretton’s one last time. Each participating merchant was listed, along with the themes at each location. She would be hosting photos with Queen Victoria and a Victorian-style Santa Claus.
Everything was in order for A Victorian Christmas. All the brainstorming, collaborating, and days of frantic promoting had led to this one afternoon. All that Jessica had left to do was to open the doors.
She walked around brightly-decorated Christmas trees and bins of ornaments.
Stopping just short of the door, a display of ceramic nativity sets from Italy caught her eye. They were a staple at Bretton’s—one of the store’s best-selling items. But as she slowed, Jessica realized she saw them in a whole new light.
Jessica picked up the figurine of Mary and held it in her right hand, then picked up the figurine representing Joseph and held it in her left. She sighed. Of course, she'd known the Christmas story since childhood, but she'd never really known Mary and Joseph—or thought much about them. They’d been names on a page in her grandmother’s Bible.
But as she held the glazed ceramic figurines in her hands, Jessica saw them as if for the first time. A young mother wanting the best for her small family, a new entrepreneur trying to get his carpentry business off the ground so he could support his loved ones. They'd been real people once.
With the figurines still tucked tightly in her hands, Jessica closed her eyes and let the voice in her mind whisper her most guarded thoughts and fears...and hopes.
Dear God, the people I care about the most seem to be reminding me that you’re still in the business of miracles. I hope so. I need one today. The bills are as high as I am tall, and the money is as low as a tree skirt draped across the floor. I want to hope. I want to believe. I want the miracle to be made real and undeniable.
Her heart pounded with adrenaline as she wrapped up the prayer. Slowly, she placed the figurines back in their rightful spot in the stable.
Jessica took a step back and looked at the little family and their animals. Then, with a light touch, she reached back inside the stable and turned Mary and Joseph slightly so that they were facing one another.
They were there for each other—just as she realized Bradley was there for her.
Her thoughts turned back to him.
Bradley had been there all along. He'd brought her cups of coffee and brought her information on opportunities from the Park Board for more than a year. He always listened to her ideas and followed up to let her know if an action had been taken on her suggestions.
When she’d tried to give up on this crazy idea—he wouldn’t let her.
When she’d come clean about her family, her financial situations, and her fears, he’d held her.
And then he’d kissed her.
There had been a miracle in front of her all along. Samantha and Whitt and Anita had known, but she hadn’t seen it. What else had she missed?
Jessica unlocked the door to the store and propped it wide open with a doorstop. The sounds of a choir on the street singing O Little Town of Bethlehem caught her ears.
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight...
That summed up all the thoughts in her mind perfectly. Hope and fear.
But as she saw people walking down the street and ducking into shops, Jessica made a decision.
She would choose hope.
It seemed like every business owner of every kind in Port Provident had stopped Bradley today. But eventually, he made his way to the sidewalk just in front of the steps of Bretton’s.
“Bradley—wait up. I need to talk to you!” He recognized the high-pitched voice of Deborah Moore, his new boss. He’d been officially transferred to her management, effective yesterday.
He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and tried to compose his face before she caught up to him.
“What is all this? The City Council voted down any holiday events. I went up to the office to see what I could find out about it, and Brent was there. He said you’d been active in planning this. Care to explain what is going on?”
He leaned against the Bretton’s stair rail. “Looks like a bunch of downtown business owners are having events today.”
"They can't have events today." Deborah placed her hands on her hips, looking entirely out of place among the relaxed tourists milling all about.
“Why not? The city is generally not in the business of telling people they can’t have sales or special promotions. And after all, it is the Christmas season. You’d generally expect lots of sales, would you not?”
“This is not a sale.”
“You’re right, it’s not.” A familiar voice came from just inside the doorway. “This is a collective celebration of hope and joy for the citizens of Port Provident and beyond. We’ve had a rough fall and winter. The downtown merchants association decided to come up with something fun to lift everyone’s spirits.”
“And you are?” Deborah looked over the top of her red-framed glasses.
Jessica walked down the steps and put out her hand in introduction. “Jessica Bretton, owner of Bretton’s on the Boardwalk. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Deborah Moore, director of the Port Provident Convention and Visitors Bureau.” Her eyes sized Jessica up. “I’m Bradley’s boss.”
Jessica smiled sweetly, but her voice carried plenty of confidence and sass. Bradley loved hearing her come into her own—especially in front of the manager he didn’t want or need. “That’s funny, he really hasn’t mentioned you. But I hope you enjoy your afternoon down here. You can have your photo taken with Queen Victoria in my store. And there will be a performance of A Christmas Carol by PYT—the Provident Youth Theatre company in the square closer to sunset.”
Deborah did not match Jessica’s overt saccharine in her reply. “There absolutely will not be anything of the kind.”
“Why not?” Bradley jumped back in the conversation.
“There’s no permit on file for any such thing.”
She looked at Bradley with a very level gaze. It made a low-grade fire flash in his belly.
“And if you do issue such a thing, Bradley, you may submit your resignation along with it. I’m going to get the police to get these crowds off the streets. The City Council said they didn’t want anything like this, and you facilitated it instead. Be in my office first thing Monday morning.”
Deborah turned and walked away before Bradley could respond. He couldn’t get his jaw unclenched enough to say anything.
“She’s going to shut it down?” Jessica grabbed Bradley’s arm. Instantly, his anger melted and his focus shifted right back to where it should have been—on Jessica and the Victorian Christmas event.
“She’ll probably try. That’s just how she operates.”
“Bradley, she can’t. Things are going well. Today’s the best day I’ve had since Labor Day weekend, and the others are telling me the same thing in emails and texts. I’m halfway to my goal. I have a chance to save my family’s business. But if she shuts this down, that chance is gone—and you and I both know it’s not coming back.”
He pulled her close, feeling the fear she held. It was causing her entire body to tense. Instead of fitting closely beside him, she felt as straight and static as a board.
Bradley had come to this end of the downtown district to both see Jessica and to hear how her sales were going. She’d just checked both boxes. He’d pushed her into this idea. He’d prodded her to believe in herself, to believe that miracles could still happen and that hope was worth holding on to.
If she lost those feelings, he didn’t know if she could ever find them again. He couldn’t be responsible for that. Jessica had been through enough. She deserved more.
She deserved hope.
He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he was going to see that hope returned to stay for Jessica and for Port Provident’s small business owners.
“I need to grab some things at my office before she goes in there and messes everything up. Can you meet me in Provident Square in an hour?”
“As long as Donna can handle the crowd in the store for a few minutes. Although, I guess if Deborah has her way, there won’t be much of a crowd in the store.”
“Do me a favor, will you?” Bradley turned her shell-shocked body in his arms and held her tightly. He leaned down and planted a firm kiss square on her lips. It didn’t last long, but he wanted to make sure she knew he meant what he was about to say. “Don’t lose hope.”
The sky was beginning to darken as the sun sank low. Despite Bradley’s kiss and admonitions to stay positive, the new presence of approximately ten uniformed officers was having an effect on both the crowds and Jessica’s spirit.
In fact, she stood on the Bretton's steps, trying to take in some breaths of cool December air to keep her from wanting to cry. Not only did it look like she would fall short of her goal number, but her problems—and the crazy fix to them—had put Bradley's job in danger. Clearly, his boss was not going to be on his side Monday.
If he lost his job, Jessica just knew she couldn’t bear that guilt. She was about to lose her own job. She couldn’t be responsible for getting Bradley pushed out the door too.
And of course, that would be the end of any chance at developing a relationship with Bradley. No man would want to be with the woman who got him fired from his job.
As she tried to push down the tears and the overwhelming feelings of defeat, only one refrain rang in her mind—this was absolutely not the most wonderful time of the year. Between this year’s train wreck and her mother’s holiday season death two years before, Jessica realized maybe she wasn’t the fake.
Maybe Christmas itself was the fake.
Suddenly, the faint jingle of sleigh bells dusted the air like salt from a shaker. Jessica had to be hearing things. There were no sleigh bells on the agenda for today’s events—and quite honestly, there was no longer an agenda of events, thanks to Deborah Moore.
Jessica looked down the block and saw Deborah standing under a flickering gas-lit lamppost, talking to a police officer. Mayor Angela Ruiz stood a half-step back, her arms crossed. She kept looking across the street at the gathered crowd as her daughter tugged at her sleeve and pointed at the animals.
The mayor gave her daughter a dismissive wave of her hand and continued to follow Deborah’s spirited conversation.
Jessica’s spirits sank even lower, even though the sound of the mystery jingle bells stayed constant.
“Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas! Ho Ho Ho! Listen up, boys and girls, Santa has an announcement!”
The voice echoed loud and clear down the street, bouncing off the multi-story historic stone and stucco buildings on both sides. Jessica couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward for a look.
And then, about three blocks down, she saw it. Pargo, a chestnut brown horse that usually gave carriage rides for tourists, had a blinking set of antlers secured atop his head. Behind him, rode a white carriage wrapped in lights.
As the makeshift reindeer and sleigh got closer, Jessica was able to make out the passenger in the carriage. A man dressed as Santa was speaking into a bullhorn, repeating his announcement over and over.
It wasn’t just any Santa Claus, though—it was Bradley Claus.
A flash of energy sparked in Jessica’s body and pushed her down the stairs. Once her feet hit the sidewalk, she began to jog. She accelerated to a full-fledged sprint when she saw the carriage stop at the corner where Deborah stood.
She couldn’t hear what was being said, but she saw Deborah point directly at Bradley and his ridiculously fake-looking beard. Two police officers stepped closer to him, one on either side of the carriage. Deborah continued to gesture wildly with her hands.
“No! Wait!” Jessica yelled out. She didn’t know what she could possibly say next, but she couldn’t allow Bradley to get arrested. Not for her. Not for anything. He’d been nothing but good and kind—and loving—to her.
She couldn’t let this happen.
Her heart pounded from the exertion of her sprint and the adrenaline being called to the forefront by her fear over what was going to happen to Bradley.
As she reached the horse’s nose, she finally could hear what they were saying.
“I don’t need a permit for this, Deborah.”
The woman's face was splashed with red, and she leaned forward. "It's a good thing you're working for me now because obviously, you don't know the rules. An outdoor gathering in the park must have a permit, and it must be filed two weeks in advance unless it meets the criteria for an emergency situation. And you playing Santa Claus is absolutely not an emergency situation."
Bradley pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Jessica could see the yellow and pink duplicate and triplicate copies waving in the breeze under the main white copy.
“The First Central Church of Port Provident has a permit for their live nativity performance in Provident Square every night this week. And tonight, they’ve invited some special guests to join them. The PYT will be performing scenes from A Christmas Carol. You can’t stop these people from coming to watch their performance. There’s no need for a police force out here. These are people coming to peacefully watch a nativity scene and Tiny Tim. If they happen to visit some of our wonderful local shops while they’re here, then that’s great too. You’re the director of the Convention and Visitors Bureau. I don’t think City Council is going to appreciate you bringing some kind of martial law down on our tourists and citizens.”
He waved the permit paperwork in her face for added emphasis.
Without a word, Deborah waved a dismissive hand at the officers, then turned on her heel. “Monday,” she said with gritted teeth. “Monday.”
Angela Ruiz plucked the paper from Bradley’s hand. “This is a real permit?”
“Laura Riley issued it two weeks ago. It’s as legit as it comes.”
She held it up. “Who’s cleaning all this up afterwards?”
Bradley folded the paper and stuffed it back in the pocket of his red coat.
“The Peoples Family Foundation is covering it. Diana Peoples has gotten the groundskeeping crew from the Peoples Property Group to work some overtime,” Bradley explained succinctly.
Angela’s daughter tugged on her hand. “Mom, we’re going to miss the candy cane demonstration at Island Confectionary.”
“It looks like you’ve covered your bases,” the mayor said. “I don’t know what else Deborah has, though.”
“Me neither. But I do know what Port Provident has now.”
“What’s that?” The mayor had already taken two steps toward the candy shop.
“Hope. This is a holiday of hope.” With a smile hiding in his fake white curls, he extended a hand to Jessica.
“Your sleigh, my dear.”
Jessica placed her palm in his gloved one and boosted herself up into the lighted carriage.
“To the square, Donner,” Bradley said.
“That’s not Donner,” Jessica said with a laugh. “That’s Pargo.”
He placed a finger deliberately over her lips. “Sssh. Don’t tell him.”
After a very short trot, they reached the square, which had become full of visitors in a short time. Deborah’s scare tactics and the police she’d brought with her hadn’t scared them completely off—Bradley’s Santa notification had worked.
He hopped out of the carriage, then helped Jessica out. Hand in hand, they slowly made their way through the crowd to the front.
“But what about Monday?” Jessica squeezed Bradley’s hand, more looking for reassurance for herself that he didn’t hate her for getting him in hot water.
“What about it?” Bradley shrugged.
“But what’s going to happen to you on Monday?”
He tilted his head and looked right in her eyes. All the fear she’d felt melted away like a snowman on the beach. “I have no idea. The mayor seemed okay with everything. I don’t know what else Deborah has up her sleeve. But I’m not worried. This is a season of hope, remember?”
“People keep telling me that.” For the first time since she’d clutched the nativity figurines this morning, Jessica felt the stored-up tension leave her body.
“And besides,” Bradley leaned his head in close to hers. She could feel the warm whisper of his breath on her cheek along with the cool breeze of the December night. “I can always come get a job at Bretton’s on the Boardwalk. I have a feeling they’re going to be back and better than ever as Port Provident continues to recover from Hurricane Hope.”
He raised a hand and tangled it in the hair at the back of her neck, then kissed her. At first, the sensation fluttered through her body as gentle as a snowflake, but quickly, it fanned into something that reminded her of the fire at the café that was creating batch after batch of roasted chestnuts. She could feel the growing warmth throughout her body, and she leaned in closer to Bradley.
After a moment, he pulled back. He smiled as he looked straight in her eyes.
From the stage where PYT was finishing their performance, Tiny Tim raised a crutch. “God bless us, every one!”
Jessica looked at the little boy on the stage. She turned her head and looked at the other end of the square, where the animals gathered around the manger. And then she looked straight in the eyes of the man who still held her warmly in his arms.
For the first time in years, she saw the answer to her prayers right in front of her.
She looked over Bradley’s shoulder, unable to take her eyes off Mary—the young woman she’d been shown to have so much in common with. This Christmas, she’d been given two of the gifts that had come to earth on that night in Bethlehem. She’d been given the miracle of hope and love.
And life would never be the same.
HOLIDAY OF HOPE
