Page 25 of Suddenly Mine

Merry shook her head. “This is Fifth Avenue, not 34th Street. My days of believing in you have long gone.”

Santa put a hand to his chest. “It always breaks my heart to hear people say that. For although you might have stopped believing in me, I never stop believing in you. Come here.”

He placed his mug on the floor, beckoning her over.

“I really can’t,” she said, feeling the ache in her legs and back. “I’ve got to get this stuff down to Lost Property, then head home. I’ve been here for ever.”

“Grant me this one little wish,” Santa said, insistent.

Merry hung her head, then walked across the small room, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet.

Santa smiled up at her. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to sit on my lap. Just give me your hand, if that’s okay with you?”

“Look . . .” Merry started, but Santa reached out and took her hand in his own. His palms were soft and leathery, and he held her hand gently in both of his.

“Merry,” he said, smiling at her. “Of all the people here, surely you must still have faith in Christmas?”

“How did you know my name?” she asked.

Santa’s eyes twinkled. “You’re still wearing your name tag.”

Merry laughed again. Santa held her hands gently. “I want you to close your eyes and try to remember what it was like to be a child. Remember that feeling of excitement, and of deep,loving comfort you always had on Christmas Eve, then the joy of Christmas morning.”

“Come on,” Merry said. She couldn’t quite believe this was happening, but the man was so kind, his voice so soothing, that she decided to play along. “Okay, sure.”

She closed her eyes and thought back to being a kid, lying in bed in Nebraska, the thick snow outside plunging the world into silence, the glow of the Christmas lights outside turning her room red, then green, then gold. Every year she’d vowed to stay up and meet Santa when he arrived to deliver her presents, and every year she’d fallen asleep sitting up in bed. And that feeling of waking up on Christmas Day — did anything ever really beat that? That moment where the fog of sleep faded away and you suddenly remembered what day it was. Despite herself, Merry giggled.

“That’s it!” said Santa. “I knew you still had a little magic inside you. Now quickly, while it’s there, tell me what you would like for Christmas.”

“What?” Merry asked, smiling at the man.

Santa smiled back. “Your present, what would you like?”

“Uh . . .” Merry shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” he said quietly.

There were lots of things she needed. Her coffee machine had broken, the shower was leaking and her shoes were practically worn out from all the walking she did in this place.

“Think about what youreallywant,” the man asked.

As soon as he’d said it, Christian’s face appeared in Merry’s mind. And even though she barely knew him, even though he was probably going to be leaving the country in a few weeks, even though there couldn’t possibly be a future for them, she made a wish — a wish that she could spend Christmas with him.

“I just want to be happy,” she said, opening her eyes.

“And you will be.” Santa gave her hands one last squeeze before letting go. “You will be, Merry.”

Gradually, the real world faded back in — the sound of Harvey’s mop cleaning the floor, somebody making an announcement over the public address system. Merry laughed, but this time it felt a little self-conscious. She was aware of the cardboard walls and roof of the hut, the fake snow that lay on the ground, and she knew that Santa was just as much of an imitation.

But still, something in her had changed. Whatever the man had done, he’d ignited the smallest flame, a tiny flicker of hope that glowed like an open fire on a dark night. Maybe, just maybe, her wish might come true.

“Believe,” Santa said, as if he was reading her mind. “Go on now, and have a very Merry Christmas.”

“You too,” Merry said, collecting the bag of lost property and opening the door.

Santa laughed, his kind voice following her out. “I always do.”

Chapter 12