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A woman entered carrying a tray of cookies and mugs of hot cocoa. She wore a red dress and a white apron. Her hair was dark brown with streaks of gray. She had a cheery disposition and a smile on her face. She was middle-aged, but she still retained her youthful beauty. This was the one and only Holly Claus.

“Freshly baked,” Holly said as she placed the tray on the table in front of her guests. She snapped her fingers, and the mugs rose to distribute amongst everyone.

Santa reached for his mug and took a sip. “Thank you, Holly dear,” he said. “Holly is the secret of this place. Without her, this place would fall apart. She deserves all the praise I receive and so much more.”

“You’re welcome. It’s not often we get guests here,” she said, turning to Alice. She gave her a hug. “I made a batch of my special cookies, just for you.”

She produced a small box, and with a wink, handed it to Alice.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Holly said.

“Thank you,” Alice replied as she placed the box into her coat pocket.

Holly sat down and joined in on the refreshments.

“Nick, I need your help getting to the spirit realm,” Alice said.

Santa nearly choked on his hot cocoa, coughing twice to clear his throat. He sat forward, his eyes intently focused on Alice. “You want to go to the spirit realm?”

“Yes. I need to rescue Hugo. He’s in trouble,” she replied.

Santa sat back, stroking his beard with his free hand. “I see. I don’t know how much I can be of help.”

“I tried to pull him through, but something?—”

“You made contact with him?” Santa asked.

“Yes. He’s in trouble. He’s trapped in some place . . . a dark place. He said there was a banshee, and she was trying to turn him into something. I don’t know what. I can’t pull him through. I need help either getting him out or going to get him.” Alice’s voice cracked, and tears filled her eyes. “Please. You’re the only hope I have left.”

Santa took another sip before his eyes settled on the dancing flames of the crackling fire. He pursed his lips and stroked his beard, no doubt in deep thought. After a moment, he took another sip of his cocoa.

“Do you know what my number one Christmas gift request is?” he asked.

“I don’t,” Alice said as she shook her head.

“It’s not the latest toy craze or something elaborate or expensive. It’s asking for a loved one to be brought back tolife. Seeing them one more time or hugging them. Something as simple as a touch. It breaks my heart. If I could do it, I would. I would answer every one of those Christmas requests. Young. Old. Doesn’t matter. It’s . . . heartbreaking,” Santa said.

He placed his mug on the table and leaned forward. “I can’t bring them back, but I do what I can to help them keep their memories alive. Maybe it’s an old picture they ‘happen’ to rediscover, or a special scent fills the air, and they recall a memory of their loved one. A wooden box to hold a wedding ring. I can’t let them forget, and I do what I can to help them. But trying to bring someone back . . . I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

Alice turned away from the table and bowed her head. She freed one hand from the brim of her hat and wiped away a tear. She sniffled to hold back the deluge of tears forming in her eyes. “I understand.”

Carol rose from the table and moved to place an arm around Alice.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she said. “We’ll find another way.”

Alice rested her head on Carol’s shoulder. “We’ll find a way,” she replied.

“Nick,” Holly said. “Maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet and reach out for help.”

Alice turned around. “Help?” She drew a breath and held it, hope renewed once more.

Santa sat back in his chair. His rosy red cheeks grew brighter as he scowled. He covered his mouth with his interlocked fingers and gave a low grumble.

“How long has it been?” Holly asked. “You two can’t keep fighting.”

Santa persisted with his protesting grumble.

“What is it?” Alice asked. “I’ll do anything. I’ll go anywhere.”