Storybook Love: A Storybook Park Romance Page 9

  Worse yet, her nephew had tried to run away the day before. His dad had finally called with his new address, and Milton wanted to go live with him. Although Leslie delicately tried to explain that Dave and his new girlfriend needed time alone, Milton stuffed his backpack with underwear and socks and set off. Fortunately, the ten-mile walk proved too much for the seven-year-old, and he agreed to go back home with Leslie, who had secretly been tailing him in her Volvo.

  Just before Storytown opened for the day, Rebecca eyed the red and white Santa costume hanging off her computer. In a few minutes, she would have to bite the bullet, but she decided to check on Leslie first.

  She dialed her sister’s number. “Hi, Les. How’s Milton?”

  “Oh, Becca. I’m worried. Now that it’s Christmas vacation, he doesn’t have school to distract him. He has nothing to do but think about his dad. And get this: Dave is taking his girlfriend skiing over Christmas. So Milton won’t even see him until the day after.”

  “Terrific. Well, maybe we can take him on some kind of special outing to keep his mind off things.”

  “I don’t know if he’ll go for it, but I’ll ask. How’s it going on your end?”

  “I’m going to be Santa Claus for the day.”

  “Oh, good. I have a few things I’d like to ask for.”

  “Me too, sis, me too.”

  Rebecca hung up, took a deep breath, and undid her shirt.

  * * * *

  Three hours later, Rebecca shifted uncomfortably on the gold throne in Cinderella Courtyard. The Santa Claus beard tickled her face, her red pants felt like they were falling down, and she had an itch underneath her stomach padding. She hadn’t had a break, and she desperately needed to go to the bathroom. She knew she should be happy they’d gotten such a good crowd, but she was exhausted. The child currently in her lap, a tow-headed girl with several teeth missing, had been rambling on for several minutes. Rebecca chided herself for not assigning a staff person to direct traffic and call for breaks. Not that she had anyone to spare.

  “…and a stuffed panda and—”

  “Okay, honey. Time to let one of the other children have a chance.” Rebecca tried to keep from coughing. Speaking at such a low volume irritated her throat.

  The little girl acquiesced and hopped from her lap. But before the child next in line could approach, Rebecca became aware of a commotion in the crowd. An adult politely made his way through the line. Rebecca gasped. Jon!

  He sidled up to her and whispered, “Rebecca?”

  She whispered back, “Yes. What do you want?” She bowed her head, humiliated at the way she was dressed, and then she stiffened. He was the one who should feel humiliated for the way he’d treated her.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Well, as you can see, I’m a little busy at the moment. I have a business to run.”

  “Will you meet me for dinner?”

  “My sister’s expecting me.” It was a lie, but she really didn’t want to see Jon that night. She wasn’t ready.

  “Will you at least join me for a drink?”

  “The best I can do is talk to you in the office just after closing.”

  “All right. I’ll be back at four, then.”

  A little boy scrambled onto Rebecca’s lap, and she squelched a sigh. Of all times for Jon to show up. Of course, he wasn’t exactly known for his timing.

  * * * *

  At a quarter past four, Rebecca strolled through the park, turning off the Christmas lights, locking up sets, and making sure everyone had left. She took her time. Jon was waiting for her in the office, and she wasn’t eager to join him.

  She didn’t know what she wanted from him. She’d spent considerable time analyzing her feelings, wondering if she should do what her sister suggested and give up Storytown for him. Perhaps she was falling in love with him, but what if she gave up her favorite place—and her job—and he betrayed her again? She didn’t think she could take the chance.

  Jon stood when she entered the office. He waited for her to sit, and settled back in the chair he’d moved to face her desk.

  She’d removed the scratchy Santa beard and discarded her padding, but she still wore the rest of the costume. Again she felt a sting of embarrassment.

  Jon kept trying to catch her eye, but each time he did, she glanced away. She remembered their kiss from the week before, but the distance between them widened by the second, as if the night had never happened.

  Jon finally said, his voice soft, “Rebecca, please look at me.”

  She bit her lip and reluctantly lifted her gaze to his.

  “I am sorry.”

  The apology irked her. It seemed so inadequate. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I’m sorry I ever let you get close to me. I’m sorry we kissed.”

  Jon’s mouth tightened. “I’m not sorry about what happened between us. But I am sorry I misled you.”

  She shot him a look.

  “I don’t mean purposely. I wanted to help you. I still do. But my father….” He stared up at the ceiling.

  “Yeah, I get it. Blood is thicker than water.”

  “No. It’s just—”

  Rebecca interrupted, “So you want me to sell you the park, is that it? And then we can just pick up where we left off?”

  “Becoming financially solvent was a long shot for you anyway.”

  “Well, you were going to help me.”

  Jon didn’t respond.

  Rebecca stood and paced around the office. She looked out the window at the shoe and said, “Actually, our attendance was quite good today. We’ll be open for most of the holiday season. If the weather holds, we might be able to make a huge profit. Besides, I’m friends with some of the merchants in town. I’m thinking of asking them for help.” She surprised herself with the statement. Why had she never thought of it before? What was to stop her from doing what Jon had suggested—enlist the community to help out? She didn’t need him to save Storytown.

  Jon raked his hands through his hair. “This is very difficult for me, Becca.”

  “Please don’t call me that. In fact, if you must keep coming around, I’d like you to call me Miss Charles. But obviously I’d prefer it if you just left me and Storytown alone. My final decision is I’m not going to sell the park—to ThemeWorld or anyone.” She set her jaw and walked to the door. Lifting her chin defiantly, she gestured to him to leave. “I left the side gate unlocked for you.”

  Jon stood, edged closer to her, and attempted to touch her face with his hand. She turned to avoid him. She was aware of him standing in the doorway for a few seconds before stepping into Gretel’s Courtyard. The door slammed behind him.

  It wasn’t until he’d left that Rebecca noticed a snow globe on the corner of her desk next to Gran’s picture. Inside was a structure that looked almost exactly like Storytown’s Cinderella’s Castle. She turned the globe upside down, shook it, and placed it upright onto the desk. Snow settled down onto the castle spires. For a brief second, she regretted how she’d treated Jon. But she quickly pushed the uncomfortable thought from her head.

  Chapter 10

  Rebecca stepped out of Gretel’s Courtyard and looked around in amazement. They’d opened barely fifteen minutes ago, and the crowd was growing steadily. This was the fifth straight day of above-average attendance. She couldn’t believe her luck.

  She’d worked hard to create a festive holiday atmosphere. Carols played on an endless loop throughout the park, and the staff handed out candy canes at each station. She and Leslie had strung together popcorn and cranberries to supplement the decorations on the big pine, and they’d gone to a tree lot to scoop up greenery to fashion into wreaths. Rebecca had distributed the rings around the park, whimsically hanging them in places like the Cowardly Lion’s neck and The Crooked House door.

  The Nutcracker puppet show was a huge success. Apparently in a good mood, Birdie James had not lodged a single complaint…as of yet. And Sara had returned to work and proven to be a compet
ent and popular Santa Claus. Fortunately, the white wig covered the red and green highlights she’d added to her hair while at home recuperating from her illness.

  * * * *

  Storytown closed two hours early on Christmas Eve. The crowd still hadn’t cleared by 2:15, so Rebecca and Sara had to go around gently asking people to leave.

  Back in the office, Rebecca glanced through the day’s proceeds as she opened the safe. Even though they’d closed early, it was the most money they’d earned in a long time. Her spirits soared. Maybe Storytown could survive. She would show Jon.

  She dug into her bottom drawer for Sara’s present and handed it to her assistant, who reciprocated with a gift bag from a popular lingerie store. Sara opened her present first and appeared to appreciate the artsy hair clips Rebecca had found in Berkeley. Rebecca opened her gift with some trepidation. Tucked inside the bag was a tiny bit of material, which on closer inspection, turned out to be the prettiest piece of lingerie she’d ever seen. The black lace teddy dipped in front to allow a show of cleavage, and the bottom was cut high in the legs. Embroidered, delicate pink flowers covered the entire piece.

  Rebecca couldn’t bear to tell Sara she could never wear something so revealing. She still hadn’t gotten over the embarrassment of meeting Jon’s father while dressed in the mini-skirt and boots. “I love it,” she lied. “Thank you so much. Have a wonderful holiday.”

  “Promise to tell me when you wear it for the first time, and how it’s received,” Sara said with a wicked smile. “Merry Christmas. See you soon.”

  Rebecca headed over to her favorite store for some last-minute shopping. She found a shiny blouse for Leslie and a pair of blue teardrop earrings to match. She was glad she’d already purchased a new video game for Milton, the selection now greatly diminished. Once she’d braved the crowds at the gift-wrapping counter, she left the store, found her car, and drove to her sister’s house.

  Leslie and Milton were decorating their Christmas tree and singing along to carols on the radio.

  “You look like you’re having fun,” Rebecca greeted them. She bent to place her gifts under the tree.

  “Come help us, Aunt Becca.”

  Rebecca threw her sister a questioning glance. They both had expected Milton to beg off the tree trimming. Leslie shrugged her shoulders as if to say: Who knows what goes on in the minds of seven-year-old boys?

  Rebecca slipped off her coat, took a huge bite of the reindeer cookie her sister offered her, and grabbed a snowman ornament. She adopted an exaggerated stance in front of the tree, scanning for the best spot to hang her decoration. “I’m in a great mood,” she announced. “Attendance has been booming at the park. This is going to be a terrific Christmas.”

  She reached for another ornament, a Santa Claus. Unbidden, a memory of Jon’s face from their last meeting came to her. She’d clearly hurt him. But it was his own fault, wasn’t it? Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what he would do for the holidays. Maybe he would help out at St. Joseph’s again. Or maybe he’d fly home to visit his parents. They were probably getting along famously since his father now believed the Storytown deal was coming along. What would happen when the elder Eastman found out she wasn’t selling after all? How would Jon explain it? Well, it wasn’t her problem. She vowed to stop thinking about the two of them.

  Her sister seemed to notice that her mood had plummeted. Leslie came over to her, gently removed the Santa ornament she’d been gripping ever more tightly in her hand, and led her to the couch.

  “Milton, I think the water’s probably ready. Why don’t you go make some hot chocolate for us?” Leslie said. As soon as he left the room for the kitchen, she asked Rebecca, “Have you seen or talked to Jon?”

  “He came by the park on Saturday to apologize.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. He’s not sorry enough to back down. He didn’t say he would give up trying to take over the park.”

  “Maybe he just can’t. Did you ever consider that he feels guilty for living while his sister didn’t, and this is his way of relieving that? By working for his father?”

  “I just don’t know if I can trust him again. Not after what happened with Mark.”

  “Hey, you guys, do you want to watch Rudolph?” Milton burst into the room bearing a tray of hot chocolates. Liquid sloshed over the sides of the too full mugs, and he slowed down. Leslie got up to help him place the tray on the coffee table. She knelt to the hardwood floor to wipe up a spill.

  Rebecca welcomed the interruption. She intended to forget about Jon and have a happy holiday. She grabbed for Milton, pulled him down on the couch, and proceeded to tickle his stomach, much to his delight. Leslie joined in the fray by jumping on the other end of the sofa, grabbing Rebecca’s left foot, and tickling it mercilessly. Soon, they all laughed uncontrollably.

  * * * *

  The three shared a lively Christmas Eve dinner a couple of hours later. Leslie had picked up clam chowder from a nearby seafood restaurant and a loaf of sourdough bread from the bakery down the street. She’d built “snowballs” out of vanilla ice cream, coconut, and chocolate sauce.

  During dessert, Milton left for his room and returned with a package of gold foil-wrapped Christmas crackers and a carton the size and shape of a Quaker Oats box.

  “Dave brought these back from London a few years ago,” Leslie explained. “He found them when he was moving out and wanted us to keep them.” Rebecca noticed that Leslie struggled to keep her voice neutral, no doubt in deference to Milton’s presence at the table.

  Milton placed a cracker next to each of their plates.

  “How does it work, Mom?”

  “What you do is pull from both ends.” Leslie demonstrated by yanking on hers. With a pop, out flew a tiny heart charm, a green paper crown, and a page of jokes. Obviously excited, Milton followed suit, and Rebecca went next.

  “‘What do you call a murder involving a chicken?’” Milton read as he positioned his purple crown onto his head. It ended up jauntily covering one eye.

  Leslie and Rebecca shook their heads.

  “Fowl play!”

  Leslie groaned, and Rebecca giggled. Rebecca unfolded her joke page and read, “‘What do you call a smart alecky snowman?’ A snow-it-all!”

  Before Leslie had a chance to read a joke, Milton cried, “Let’s light the bomb!”

  Alarmed, Rebecca looked to her sister for explanation.

  “That’s what this thing is.” Leslie held up the cylindrical container while Milton pointed to a small fuse at the bottom. “It’s like a piñata. Once we light it, it will burst open and little toys will come out.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Rebecca said.

  “Come on, Mom, do it!”

  “Okay, but I want you two to stand back from the table. I don’t want to be spending Christmas in the emergency room.” She rummaged around in the credenza for a match and carefully lit it against the fuse.

  The fuse took hold, and, in a flash, the container burst open. Streamers, confetti, party blowers, plastic whistles, and small paper balls exploded out in all directions, spreading over the table and onto the floor.

  “Cool!” Milton yelled and scrambled to pick up their spoils.

  Leslie found a gray mask and held it over her eyes. Rebecca discovered a white mustache and affixed it to her nose. Milton marched around the table, blowing on a train-shaped whistle.

  Watching Leslie and Milton smile and play, Rebecca was overcome by feelings of warmth and love. She was glad she had the two of them. It helped ease the pain of not being with Jon.

  * * * *

  Rebecca spent the night in the guestroom. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she reflected on how forgiving her sister was. Les seemed to have completely forgiven Dave for his betrayal, but Rebecca knew she hadn’t forgotten. Twice when Rebecca had stayed the night, she’d heard her sister cry herself to sleep. Rebecca knew how she felt, having lost more than a few tears over Jon.

  Brig
ht and early the following morning, Milton tore into his presents. Rebecca heard him from all the way down the hall. She smiled, remembering how she’d loved Christmas as a child, and how she’d treasured the traditions she and her family shared. Each year, Gran gave her granddaughters Advent calendars so they could count down the days to the twenty-fifth. The three watched It’s a Wonderful Life together. On Christmas Eve, Rebecca and Leslie prepared cookies and sugar cubes and placed them on the hearth, and their mother read The Night Before Christmas. The family always had homemade croissants and freshly-squeezed orange juice the next day while the children emptied their stockings.

  As she listened to Milton’s happy exclamations, Rebecca wondered when the magic had gone out of her own Christmas mornings. She suspected it was not long after her parents separated. The holiday lost its glow once her family broke apart. Would she ever have her own family and her own holidays? She pondered the same thing every year. But something was different this time. She no longer envisioned Mark as her husband in the Norman Rockwell scenes she imagined. Now, Jonathan Eastman replaced him. Jon had been so gentle with Lauren. He would no doubt make an excellent father. Maybe he did have good reasons for what he’d done. In fact, wasn’t it rather noble of him to give up his dreams to please his parents? Maybe she should give him a second chance.

  Satisfied with her decision, she shook the thoughts from her head and dressed as quickly as she could to join Leslie and Milton in the living room.