Page 52 of All in for Christmas

My students are alert as they arrive with their paper plates of Christmas goodies. “Ms. Pierce,” one girl says. “I know what I’d do if I were Ebenezer Scrooge. I’d go back and ask Belle to stay my girlfriend. Maybe even marry me.”

“But Scrooge loved money more than her,” a boy intervenes as they all take their seats.

“Doesn’t mean he couldn’t rethink things,” the first student retorts.

Rethink things, yes. The way I’d like to do with Dean.

If we could go back to that night at my apartment, the night before Dean left for Puerto Rico, and start all over again, like we hinted at last night, would we?

Would that give us the life I saw? What about my work here with Paws and Read?

Is that something I could lobby for and build in the other realm? Not immediately, but eventually?

It’s been tons of work, but so worth it.

Given the positive outcome, I wouldn’t mind putting in the elbow grease again.

I’d have to go back to school first to earn my teaching degree.

I didn’t think that was possible at first, in light of our financial and family demands, until Dean found a way.

Dean always finds a way to make things better and touch my heart.

I have a great time with my students and am pleased to see everyone engaged. Each student has their own theories and opinions, and it’s fun to hear them arguing with one another, getting into the literary spirit, so to speak.

During my final class of the day, one boy comments, “You know, Ms. Pierce, for being as old as it was, the story wasn’t half bad.”

“It’s a classic piece of literature,” I assure him. “An original best seller.”

The class laughs at this, but I hold up both hands. “No, seriously. Though Dickens wrote it quickly—in only six weeks—between the time it was released on December nineteenth, eighteen forty-three, and Christmas Eve, just five days later, the first printing completely sold out.”

A kid in a middle row waves their book. “So it was a hot commodity.”

“The hottest.”

December nineteenth. Wait.

That was the day the once-in-a-lifetime comet passed overhead and the day I was affected by my advent calendar’s magic. By December twenty-fourth—just five days later—I was head over heels in love with my new family. But one thing couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the other. Could it?

I shake my head, thinking I’ve buried myself in too much Christmas lore.

“Ms. Pierce?” a shy girl in the front row asks, for apparently the second time. “Can we pass out the cookies?”

“The cookies!” I laugh and clap my hands. “Of course.”

The student assembly’s held next, with teachers putting on some humorous holiday skits for the students and Principal Peabody wishing everybody a good break.

Before she ends her address, she motions me toward the podium.

I’m pleased to have Beth and Adrian with me, and their dogs Cooper and Bailey are here, too.

We’ve also got a cute goldendoodle with his handler, Rodrigo, and a King Charles spaniel with her handler, Mae.

Our final therapy dog is Bella, a young German shepherd with a sweet face. Her handler’s name is Louise.

All the dogs wear therapy dog vests and Cooper has his bells on.

The volunteers wear Paws and Read T-shirts and ID badges on matching lanyards.

Beyond them on one side of the gym we’ve set up tables with informational flyers and blue and white balloons.

We have Paws and Read T-shirts for sale as well as buttons and are selling pawprint cookies for a dollar each, donated to our effort by a local bakery.

I lean toward the mic and speak. “Hello, everyone! I know you’re excited about winter break.

” Kids whistle, clap, and cheer, stomping their heels against the bleachers.

“I wanted to let you know about a new program in our school called Paws and Read.” I’ve changed into my T-shirt and point to the logo on its front pocket.

“We’ll have five therapy dogs working at Walton during the new semester.

Some of your teachers have requested time with them already, but any of you students can request a canine visit for your English class, as well.

“Pet partners are also available to attend reading groups in the library. There’s a signup form on the school website under the special programs link.

” I can read their glowing faces. There’s lots of excitement over this, and that does my heart good.

While the program working one-on-one or in small groups with struggling students is a priority, improving students’ morale by providing the calming influence of therapy dogs in classrooms is a paramount objective, too.

“So, please come over to our tables and get more information on our program to share with your families. Our friendly dogs and volunteers can’t wait to meet you!

” Resounding applause echoes to the ceiling as Principal Peabody walks toward me.

“Congratulations, Paige,” she says, and my heart lifts.

“It looks like you’re off to a great start. ”

That evening at dinner Dean toasts me with his wine. “Here’s to getting Paws and Read off the ground today!” He’s dressed nicely in a suit and tie, and I’m in a red tailored dress, tasteful but a bit boring compared to the things I wore when I had highlights in my hair.

I clink my wineglass to his. “Thanks, Dean. I’m excited for next semester and seeing it implemented.” I imagine Cooper bounding into a classroom with his vest bells jingling and the faces of all the students sitting at their desks lighting up.

He tilts his wineglass thoughtfully before taking a sip. “Walton couldn’t have done it without you.”

My cheeks warm at his admiring look. “Oh yes they could have, but I’m happy to have their support.

” My stomach tenses at the thought of our other realm.

There was no literacy program there, and I had such a long road ahead of me before even getting a teaching degree.

Still. That world was wonderful and warm, embracing my soul like a loving hug.

I drink from my wine and set it down, staring outdoors.

We’re at the same table as before, with the same Christmas candle, nestled in the front window with a view of the main town square.

Occasional pedestrians pass by on the sidewalk, a few individuals, a family, a couple huddled together.

Falling snow coats their hats and shoulders in glistening white flakes that catch the streetlamp’s glow.

Colorful lights from the holiday market glimmer in the distance and I ponder Mary Christmas’s advice.

Everything in its place and all things in good time.

“You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?” Dean intuits correctly. “Your alternate life.”

“I wish I could explain so you’d understand.”

“Paige,” he says sweetly. “You don’t have to. It’s like I have this thing in the back of my mind.” He motions behind his head. “This far away memory that’s just out of reach.”

“Your zip file?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got that.” He frowns, thinking this over. “But the zip file is almost like a catalog, I guess. A compilation of things that happened, snapshots from that realm. But I’m missing what you’ve got.” He pats his chest. “The heart.”

He stares at me seriously. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot these past few days. You know that thing people say about wishing on a star?”

“Yes?” I unroll my napkin, laying out my silverware. We’ve ordered but our food has not yet come.

His temples go slightly red, his neck too. “The night the Christmas Comet passed overhead, I made a private wish myself,” he says tenderly. “I wished for a second chance with you.”

I reach out and hold his hand on the tabletop. “You’re getting it,” I say softly.

His lopsided grin warms me through and through. “I’d give anything to see that other reality, to know how our life might have been. It sounds pretty wonderful.”

“It was.” He tightens his grip on my hand and I squeeze his.

“You know what I wish now?” His voice goes a little husky. “I wish I’d never gotten on that plane to San Juan. That I’d turned right around and come back to you.”

I look deeply into his eyes. “That would have meant a different life.” I can’t help but tease. “No Wendy.”

Our dinners arrive and we unlink our hands, sitting back in our chairs.

Dean chuckles. “You are a little jealous, aren’t you?” he asks in joking tones.

I playfully scoff, “ Wendy Schmendy ,” but I’m not seriously jealous. Although I’ll admit I liked it better when I knew Dean had spent his first post-college year with me, and not with her. I turn my gaze to my plate to hide my blush. “Ooh, this looks delicious.”

He studies his dish. “Sure does.”

I’ve ordered chicken carbonara and Dean’s gotten the lasagna, reminding me of the Christmas dinner he and I put together in our cozy cottage.

Such teamwork, but we can make a great team here, too.

Of course we can. All signs keep pointing in the right direction.

“So how are things going with the house?”

“Pretty excellent.” He grins and picks up his fork. “The seller’s accepted my offer.”

“How awesome! I’m excited for you.”

He tenderly meets my gaze. “I’m excited for us, and our future.

” Our future. Were there ever weightier words?

I had a future with Dean in the other reality, too.

Only there, I had no recollection of our past, which is not so unlike here.

Since we’ve been out of touch these past six years, we hadn’t formed any new memories together, until recently.

Although each and every one of those has been stellar.

I raise my wineglass again. “Here’s to the future! ”

He toasts with his glass. “May it be merry and bright!” he says with Christmassy cheer.