CHAPTER TWELVE

 

 

Marco knocked on Bloomers’ front door. Fairly dancing with excitement, I let him in, took his hand, and led him straight to the costumes and accessories spread out across the counter. “Marco, I have an idea.”

He glanced from the costumes to my mom and Jillian, who were just as clueless as he was. Then he narrowed his eyes at me. “I already don’t like it.”

“Just hear me out,” I said. By that time, Lottie, Grace, and Rosa had grouped around the counter to listen. “We know Nathan is going to be at that celebration at some point, but we aren’t allowed to go near him. Right?”

Marco nodded.

“And we’re almost certain that Churchill is still somewhere in that building, but we can’t get in without the risk of getting caught. Right?”

“He might be in the building,” Marco cautioned, “but if you think I’m getting into a Santa costume and sneaking into Churchill’s department store, you’ve lost your mind.”

“No,” I corrected. “We don’t sneak in. We blend in. The square is going to be jammed with people, some wearing Christmas costumes. Reilly will be looking for Abby and Marco, not Santa and Mrs. Claus.”

“Or their cute helper elf!” Jillian exclaimed.

“I’m not keen on the idea of dressing up like Santa Claus,” Marco said stubbornly.

“Just listen,” I said. “Nathan wants to take over for his father, which means he could be sitting out in that sleigh right now.”

“Then I will go check,” Rosa announced, tossing the end of her scarf over her shoulder. “No one will be looking for me.” Before I could stop her, she left the shop and hurried across the street.

“It’s still too risky,” Marco said. “You heard what Reilly told us. We have to take him seriously.”

“I know, Marco, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to Churchill tonight and we did nothing to save him. Would you?”

“Excuse me,” Mom interjected. “If I’m understanding this correctly, your whole premise revolves around using the costumes I’ve spent hours crafting in my spare time.”

That stopped me. I hadn’t even considered that my plan was not only risky, but incredibly selfish, too. “I’m sorry, Mom. You’re right. These costumes are your creation and you should use them as they were intended, to run your booth.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Mom said. “Do you realize that this is the first art project I’ve ever made that you have been truly excited about?” She held out her arms and I stepped into them. “It’s my Christmas miracle,” she whispered in my ear as she hugged me. Stepping back with tears in her eyes she said, “I’m happy to let you use them. Go find our missing Santa.”

But Marco continued to play devil’s advocate. “Let’s say we do get out there unnoticed and find a spot to stake out Nathan. What then?”

“We keep an eye on him,” I answered honestly. “At six o’clock he’s going to be sitting in the sleigh, counting down the lighting of the tree. I guarantee it. That’s what he wanted us to see, so that’s where we need to be. If Nathan does anything suspicious, we’ll alert Reilly.”

Marco shook his head. “I’m not dressing up like Santa Claus,” he finally said.

“Fine,” I fired back, “then I’ll spend Christmas Eve without you. Just like last year.”

My dad wheeled himself out of the parlor and stopped his chair in front of both of us. “You don’t have to decorate your business,” he said to Marco. “You don’t have to play football on the television.” He reached behind him and pulled out the fluffy pillow he used for back support. “But you’re putting on that costume and accompanying my daughter to the celebration.” He threw the pillow into Marco’s arms. “So you might as well look the part.”

Holding the pillow, Marco said, “I’m not going to leave your daughter alone. I’m just saying there has to be a better way of getting close to Nathan.”

“Then think of one,” I said.

I could tell my husband was racking his brain, looking around the room as if something might trigger an idea. Finally, his eyes came to rest on the costumes. He breathed in deeply and blew it out, as he always did when he didn’t want to do something.

“We have to try, Marco,” I said softly.

He let out a sharp sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

Lottie and Grace wished us luck and left for the Bloomers booth. My mom and dad bundled up and headed for the door, but before my mom could wheel him out, my dad stopped to say, “I’ll try to keep Reilly occupied. Have your phone near you with the volume turned up. I’ll let you know if he leaves the police booth.”

I thanked my parents again and locked up the door behind them. Outside, the courthouse lawn was swarming with people, and I was beginning to feel thrills of excitement race up my spine. I turned to see Marco holding up the thick black boots we had pulled from my Mom’s travel bag. Jillian had already taken off to change in the bathroom, which left Marco and I all alone. I tried to thank him but he stopped me.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said as he began to pull his suit on over his clothes.

“But I want to thank you. I know you think this is a bad plan.”

“Not true,” he said and fastened the large buckle around his trim waist. “I think it’s risky and I’m not thrilled with it, but I don’t think it’s a bad plan. It’s our only plan.”

Wearing my warm woolen sweater and a turtleneck beneath the Mrs. Claus outfit for warmth, I donned the red leggings and matching long red velvet coat dress. “I know you hate Christmas,” I said, zipping up the front of the coat, “yet here I am dragging you into the middle of the celebration, even after our fight. So just let me say thank you.”

Marco turned around to look at me. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry about today in the car. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. This is a difficult time of the year for me, but I don’t hate Christmas. It’s just not easy for me to talk about it, that’s all.”

I wanted to ask him more, but it wasn’t the right time. “I’m sorry about what my dad said to you. He’s very adamant about traditions, especially Christmas.”

“And football,” Marco added. He pushed the pillow into his suit around his mid-section and shifted the black belt around his stomach. He looped the straps of his bushy white beard around his ears, and positioned the fluffy whiskers to cover his lips, chin, and neck.

I handed him the finishing touch, a floppy red hat with a thick black buckle in front and a fluffy white ball attached to the top. I fixed the ball so it draped appropriately to the side and had to chuckle to myself.

He gave me a surly expression. “How do I look?”

I smiled. “Like Santa Claus.” I tied the straps of my red and white bonnet under my chin then hooked the gold-rimmed glasses around my ears, positioning them down the bridge of my nose. “How do I look?”

A grin lifted one corner of Marco’s white mustache. “Like my wife.”

Jillian stepped through the curtains and twirled before us, her elf shoes jingling. “I told you I could rock this skirt. I’m not sure about the tights, though.”

After looking Jillian over, I realized that she was wearing the outfit my mom had made for me. Thank goodness for the tights, though, because the skirt was way too short for her long legs. She was decked out in green and black, with her tights a swirling mixture of the two. Her vest was a little loose, but the skinny green hat and elf ears made up for it. I had to admit that she did look cute.

Rosa returned with bad news. “I could not find Nathan anywhere. He is not in the sleigh. There are hundreds of people out there. Finding him would be like looking for a needle in a matchbox.”

“You mean haystack,” said Jillian, the one who rarely got her own words right.

“It’s almost time for the tree lighting,” I said, looking at my watch. “Thirty minutes, to be exact. Where could Nathan be?”

“I went into the department store to look, too,” Rosa explained, “but it is too busy. The store has not closed early like the other shops and there are still too many last-minute customers.”

I glanced at Marco in a panic. “That means he could be anywhere.” Turning to Rosa, I said, “Will you help my mom at her booth? My dad will be keeping Reilly occupied and I want you to watch the area for Nathan. If you see him, call me immediately. I’ll have my phone with me at all times.”

Rosa opened the door, letting in a blast of cold air. “I will keep my eyes out for him like an eagle.”

Marco, Jillian, and I stood by the Bloomers front window and gazed out at the sea of people filling the square. I tapped my watch. “It’s now or never, Marco.”

“Are you giving me the option?” he asked.

“No,” I responded. “Now.”

We left Bloomers and walked quickly past Down the Hatch, taking the long way around the square. The snow was falling softly and consistently, forming a white glistening glaze on the sidewalks and the glowing branches of the trees. We cut through the crowd, mingling with the many shoppers at booths on the southern side of the courthouse lawn, keeping our distance from the police booth. Jillian stopped momentarily to grab a free glass of hot cider and I ushered her along impatiently. Beyond the courthouse on the north lawn we could hear the church choir singing. There was no sign of Nathan.

We rounded the courthouse and I was overwhelmed by the sight in front of me. Churchill’s department store was completely lit up, every window wrapped in golden light strands. Parents with their children filled almost every inch of space on the sidewalk, taking pictures with the oversized ornaments and larger than life candy canes along the front of the store.

On the courthouse lawn opposite Churchill’s, outlined with a thick red rope, stood a larger version of Santa’s Village, even down to his miniature workshop at the back. But instead of Santa’s big red and gold chair sitting beside the workshop, a white wooden sleigh trimmed with colorful gold swirls sat there instead, with a path outlined in more red rope leading up to it. Beside the workshop sat the massive, glowing Christmas tree, decorated with at least a mile of multi-colored lights and yards of tinsel.

I gazed up at the top, where the Christmas star, still unlit, swayed in the gentle evening breeze. “Isn’t it beautiful?” I asked Marco. I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, standing there with my arm looped through his, sharing that beautiful sight with him, safely hidden amidst all the people filling the area.

That happy feeling vanished as Marco grabbed Jillian and me and pulled us behind the workshop. “We’ve been spotted.”