Santa to the Rescue (3 page)

Chapter Three

Jamey stared at the big-bellied, white-haired man who looked back in the firehouse locker room mirror. He let out a “Ho, ho, ho,” and then laughed, for real. He could have fooled his own mother with this red and white get-up.

His driver, Knox Bennett, dressed in full firefighter regalia, gave him the twice over and laughed, too. “Every mom in town will fall in love with you.”

There was only one woman on Jamey’s mind these days and he’d become determined to win her. “Is the truck ready?” Jamey would ride on top of Engine 54 while Knox and Frank drove him around the neighborhoods to greet the families and hand out treats.

“Ready, Mr. Claus.”

Three hours later, Jamey and his drivers pulled into the parking lot of Appleton Fire Station, sirens blaring, for their annual Open House. Throngs of waiting families dressed in hats and gloves, heavy coats, and insulated boots clapped and cheered upon their arrival. Snow had fallen the night before, clinging to oak trees, pines, and the green lawns surrounding the firehouse, adding a traditional Christmas backdrop.

Brisk winter winds swirled, blowing icy fingers across the landscape and whistling over Jamey’s costume as he climbed down Engine 54 to meet the crowd. His nose and cheeks had nearly frozen from the cold, though his head and body stayed warm inside the Santa suit. He imagined that rosy-cheeked glow only served to enhance his jolly old elf persona.

Jamey waved to the kids and their parents, and the crowd cheered like they’d seen a rock star. Santa let out a jovial, “Ho, ho, ho,” in the spirit of the event, and the kids screamed with delight.

This Santa Claus assignment might be part of a hazing ritual, but he was enjoying his role. No way, though, would he let the other guys know that playing Santa had been more fun than he’d expected. His only regret was that Heather and the kids at County Hospital couldn’t be here, too.

Jamey made his way into the stationhouse, waving to children and shaking hands with their parents. A crew member, dressed in full firefighter gear, opened the door to the station for him like a sentry for his king. Jamey nodded his thanks and entered the vast room beyond. What he found on the other side of the threshold was a sight he knew he’d remember the rest of his days.

He stopped and stared, dumbstruck.

The captain and the entire crew had lined up inside the doorway, dressed in their gear, to welcome him. Each man reached out to shake his hand as he passed, smiles of respect and kinship lighting their faces. As Jamey continued down the line, his teammates winked or slapped his shoulder, letting him know he’d become one of them, at last.

By the expressions on the men’s faces, he could see that each member of Appleton Fire Station had enjoyed playing the Santa role. His assignment hadn’t been a hazing ritual, but part of a respected tradition that had been passed down. His acceptance of the part, and the responsibility that went along with it, had enhanced his standing among the others.

He’d truly become one of the team. Appleton was his home.

As he shook the last crew member’s hand, visitors hurried through the doors behind him to commence the day’s activities. The Christmas tree beside the Santa throne twinkled with colored lights, garland, and tinsel. Artificial snow lay beneath, mounded with miniature Appleton Fire Station firefighter hats that would be given to every child who visited. Long refreshments tables, door prize displays, and games occupied the opposite side of the room.

While the children lined up to visit Santa, Jamey took a quick detour to the locker room. He pulled out his cell, yanked off his white cotton gloves, and called Heather. When her phone went straight to voice mail, he ran a search for the number of her hospital ward and punched in the digits.

On the fourth ring, a woman answered. “Pediatrics, this is Marsha.”

“Hello, Marsha. My name is James Tucker. I need to speak to Heather Longhurst. It’s important.”

A long pause followed. “Is this a personal call, Mr. Tucker? Personal calls are not permitted during duty hours.”

Based on her chilly tone, telling her this was an official call from Santa Claus would clearly get him nowhere. “Will you give her a message, please? Ask her to return my call. I’ll keep my cell phone with me. Will you do that?”

“
Sure
. I enjoy taking personal messages while dealing with emergencies, doctors, and the lab. I’ll tell her
right away
, Mr. Tucker.” Her sarcasm said otherwise. The woman disconnected.

Jamey listened to dead air and swore under his breath. Seconds later, he made another call. Then he returned to the main room of the firehouse and had a quick word with his captain.

Children watched him with hope-filled expressions as he made his way to his assigned seat to listen to their Christmas wishes. The parents beamed as they gazed upon their children. The love Jamey saw in their eyes caused him to wonder if he’d make a good father one day. Elation filled his heart as he imagined taking his own child to visit Santa Claus, the way his father had done so many years ago.

Jamey reached out to welcome the first child of the day, and gave himself over to the spirit of Christmas.

In the employee lounge at the County Hospital, Heather cinched her ponytail at the nape of her neck and adjusted her green felt cap. The little bell on top jingled with the motion. She smoothed her hands down her custom made Santa’s elf suit and slipped her red leather flats over her green tights.

She and Lilly, also dressed as an elf, helped the other staff members bring as many children as were able to the reception area by the nurses’ station.

The cheerful holiday fragrances of apples and cinnamon wafted through the room from potpourri jars. Lively holiday music filled the air from a borrowed sound system, while a volunteer entertainer created colorful balloon animals for the little ones. A magician performed card tricks for the older children.

Heather checked the time on the wall clock above the nurses’ desk. Two fifteen. Mr. Root, the hospital administrator, would arrive dressed as Santa Claus in fifteen minutes.

According to the staff, playing Santa had been Mr. Root’s favorite role since joining the hospital five years before. He made bedside visits to the children too ill to leave their rooms before joining those assembled at the party. Then the kind, older gentleman would make his way to visit patients on the other floors. His rounds took hours to complete, but he pressed on, even with the knee replacement he’d had the previous year.

Heather glanced around the room with a critical eye and nibbled the inside of her lip. Despite the candy canes she and Lilly had hung, the compact tree they’d decorated, and the treats the staff had baked or bought, the sterile hospital atmosphere seeped through. Only the smiles on the children’s faces let Heather know that, for a short time, at least, they might forget their troubles.

“Anyone want a cookie?” She asked.

A chorus of shouts followed. “Me!”

“We’ve got plenty for everyone.” She went to the break room to don a fresh pair of gloves and retrieve the plate of the cookies she’d baked for the children. The dietary department had delivered holiday cookies for those with special nutritional needs.

Before bringing them into the party, she removed the plate of cookies from her locker that she’d brought for Jamey,
just in case
he stopped by
,
and set them on the counter in the staff room for the three to eleven o’clock shift. The time had come to accept that he had other obligations and wouldn’t show up.

She’d acted like a fool for hanging on to the shred of hope that he might visit, despite making it clear he had to work. Apparently, she liked him more than she cared to admit.

She really had to end her sulking and pull up her big girl panties. Firefighters had notoriously erratic schedules. If she and Jamey intended to date, she’d have to learn to accept that about his job.

Had she decided to date him? She got a good vibe from Jamey, but still needed convincing.

The realization that she’d lost her trust in love made her wince. Was that any way for her to be at only twenty-three? If she could still believe in the magic of Christmas, couldn’t she give a man like James Tucker a chance? She needed to do something about her cynicism.

Lilly entered the break room, changed her gloves, and helped Heather gather the children’s cookies, which had been stacked on color-coded plates.

As they made their way around the room to pass out the snacks, Heather sang
Santa Claus is Coming to Town
along with the sound system, in anticipation of Mr. Root’s visit. Behind them, a woman from the food services department delivered sugarless beverages, which Heather and Lilly helped the children open and sip.

Marsha was nowhere to be seen, of course. The moment the party started, she’d skulked away to perform “other, more important duties.” Heather couldn’t understand medical personnel who considered emotional healing less important than the physical. Who could resist Santa Claus and Christmas cookies? Marsha’s lack of nurturing skills never ceased to surprise her.

Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree
filled the air and a six-year-old boy named Ricky, who ordinarily refused to interact, impressed her by singing along. She joined him—in perfectly awful harmony, which made the other children laugh and join in.

In those few moments, Heather’s spirit lifted and the first real joy of the Christmas season touched her soul. This ward was where she belonged. She was never happier than when taking care of her children.

Would she have her own children to love one day? Having a family still seemed like a far-off dream, but she held on to the fantasy. Not everyone got divorced, like her parents and her aunts had done. There had to be honorable men out there who wanted the same things she did. Some couples loved forever, right?

Maybe she wasn’t as jaded as she feared.

…

“I’m happy to help out, Mr. Root,” Marsha said to the hospital administrator, who stood side-by-side with Jamey outside his office. The smile in her voice sounded nothing like the acidic tone she’d used when Jamey called earlier. “I’m flattered that you asked for me.”

Mr. Root, dressed in full Santa Claus regalia, gestured to Jamey. “My friend here suggested you. Apparently, you made quite an impression when he spoke with you earlier on the phone.”

Jamey flashed Marsha the smile that had always won his sisters over, hoping to chase the flicker of confusion from her eyes. He could almost see her mind scrolling through the calls she’d taken or made, trying to figure out which one he’d been.

Jamey gave her an
aw shucks
shrug. “I had no idea that nurse would be more beautiful than her voice.” He dipped his head. “If you don’t mind me sayin’.”

Marsha brightened with the compliment. She turned to the older man. “Will Public Relations want pictures?”

Mr. Root picked his Santa sack off the floor. “They always do, but most of them are candid shots. Don’t let the photographer distract you. Sadly, we have more children as in-patients this year. They need our attention as much as our Christmas spirit.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” Marsha replied. She smoothed a hand down the front of her scrubs.

He tossed the bag over his shoulder. “Let’s get started.”

…

Sleigh bells jangled. Heather turned toward the sound. Her jaw dropped, and she did a double-take, not believing her own eyes. Santa Claus had arrived at the party carrying a gift sack, his free arm linked with Marsha’s. Santa let out a big “Ho, ho, ho” and the children cheered. Heather watched in wonder as Marsha escorted Santa around the room and introduced him to each of the children by name. The newsletter editor from Public Relations snapped photos.

Lilly ambled over to Heather and said through clenched teeth, “Do you believe this? Marsha ditched the party planning, but had the nerve to take center stage with Santa!” She frowned in disgust. “I’ll help clean up, and then I’m outta’ here before I do something I’ll regret.” She strode away to collect discarded cups and napkins from the children, casting a scornful glance at Marsha as she went.

Heather shook her head. No, it didn’t seem fair. Yet, as she watched the children’s faces light up around Santa Claus, she kept in mind that this party had been designed for them. Only their happiness mattered.

With all eyes on Santa Claus, the volunteer balloon maker and magician clearly understood they’d been upstaged and said their good-byes. Heather thanked them and invited them to return next year.

The three to eleven shift arrived in time to enjoy the last of the children’s festivities. When Santa Claus turned to them and shook hands, Heather watched as the adults played along, obviously enjoying themselves. A few sang
Deck the Halls
while the early shift support staff said their farewells and turned to go.

Before Heather could steal away to change out of her elf costume, Santa ambled over and took her by the arm. “Great party.”

Heather smiled in return. “You made it that way.” She glanced across the room at the other R.N., who sang along with the Christmas carols. Amazing!

Heather leaned toward Santa and whispered, “Thanks for everything, Mr. Root.”

“You’re welcome, darlin’.”

“Darling?” Heather’s cheeks turned hot. She stared up into Mr. Root’s dark brown eyes and saw a lusty twinkle there she’d never seen before.

Brown eyes? Wait. Mr. Root’s eyes were hazel. “You’re not Mr. Root!” she hissed. She looked from left to right for a security guard.

“Shh.” Santa replied. “It’s okay. Mr. Root and I split the duties. I’m helping him out.”

The unmistakable mirth in Santa’s voice and mid-western drawl brought Heather’s attention back to his face. Those eyes…and that mouth…. There was something incredibly sexy, and familiar, about them.

“I didn’t know Mr. Root had an assistant.” Now that she thought about it, a man with a knee replacement might have a tough time making his way around the hospital in just a few hours.

“You don’t happen to have the song
All I Want for Christmas is a Real Good Tan
on hand, do you? I’d like to hear that one.”