Sorry, still running a bit behind, but I’m catching up today! Really!
This is my favorite episode to date.
December 11
Really? That’s who’s coming today to the store? Seriously?????
Molly laughed, even though it was hard to breathe with Schrodinger standing on her chest in the bed. “Yes, cat, that’s who’s coming to the store today. Aunt Marge made me promise not to tell you before today, because it’s a surprise. No one knows he’s coming. But I’m betting there will be a line out the door when everyone finds out!”
Can I talk to him? Can I get a picture? The CrossCat was all but bouncing with delight. Will he really let me?
“Not if you cave my chest in before we get there!” Molly shoved him backwards onto the bed, where he collapsed in a furry pile of glee. “Come on. We have to look good for our very, very special guest.”
Ever since Marge had pulled her aside last week and told her what she’d planned for this Saturday, Molly had been making her own preparations. Last night, she’d baked up a storm in her kitchen: dozens and dozens of delicate lace cookies, like snowflakes, that she’d dusted with powdered sugar. This morning, she was planning on more scones and tea cakes, before the big arrival, and another large pot of mulled cider. That had gone over so well at the carol sing that she and Marge had agreed it might have to go on the permanent menu.
But no coffee. Molly was adamant about that. If folks wanted coffee, there was a perfectly good coffee shop run by her friends Katrina and Mick down the street. The Crosswinds Tea Shop was just that. Tea only. She’d only had one complaint, and the rest of the customers had shown the troublemaker the door before she’d done more than blink. The Cove was good like that.
The brisk walk through the predawn streets put her in the perfect frame of mind to bake. No snow, and the dark sky glittered with millions of stars stretching above her. Once the streetlights went out, there was very little in the way of light pollution in the Cove, and that was just how she liked it. On perfect mornings like this, with Schrodinger trotting beside her and the scent of the sea and evergreens heavy in her nostrils, Molly couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
She let them both in the kitchen and sent Schrodinger off to scout out the perfect place to set up the chair, even though she knew Marge wanted him up in front of the fireplace. The CrossCat was practically vibrating with excitement still, and she hoped the exercise would burn off some of his energy. Meanwhile, she had scones and tea cakes to make.
Marge came in about twenty minutes later, laughing. “So, I guess Schrodinger knows who we’re expecting today.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t not tell him this morning.” Molly pulled a tray from the oven, full of gorgeous orange scones, and slid in a pan of tea cakes. “He was actually contemplating not coming in before that, and he’d’ve killed me if he’d missed it.”
“What was he going to do?” Marge asked, making herself a cup of tea.
“He said something about doing some investigating, trying to see who SA is,” Molly told her. “Something about making sure it’s not a joke.”
“Oh, it’s not a joke,” Marge said, and Molly turned to give her aunt a raised eyebrow. “I can assure you, SA is very serious.”
“And you know this how?”
Marge winked at her. “Because I know who he is.” And then she sailed out from the kitchen, leaving Molly gaping after her.
After a few moments, Molly shook her head and laughed. “Hell, I’m probably the only one in the Cove who doesn’t know. But that’s okay, I’ll figure it out eventually.” She turned back to her cooling scones, touching the tops with a fingertip to make sure they were perfect. “And figuring out is part of the fun.”
Then she noticed the envelope on her counter; Marge must have left it when she’d come in. Molly pulled out the CD and read the note inside. “Dear Molly, what will you ask for? I know what I want for Christmas. I’ve already sent my letter. SA.”
She slipped the disk into the CD player and began to mix another batch of scones, singing along to the music. It made sense that Marge knew who SA was – it was probably how he’d come to know so much about her. Either that, or he’s been watching me. Probably both.
By the time their guest arrived, Schrodinger had worked himself into a froth. Marge had called Hudson down at the Cove’s radio station, and he’d announced it over WCOV that there was going to be an extra-special guest arriving via Doc Robbins’ sleigh at 2 pm. The store was packed, and over the hubbub of excited children and adults, Molly heard the jingle of bells. “Schrodinger, come on!” she called, going to the door of the kitchen and looking out. From there, she had a straight view of the store door and saw it open, saw Marge push her way through the onlookers and greet…
Santa! He’s really here, Molly!
Molly sagged as the CrossCat jumped up onto her shoulder from the counter and then had to grab him before he launched himself over the crowd in his excitement. “I know, I know.” She laughed at his delight. “We’ll get up to see him, I promise. Marge said he promised to stay until everyone got a chance to sit on his lap.”
Even you? Will you tell him what you want? Schrodinger leaned over and looked at her. If she hadn’t had a firm grip on him, the CrossCat would have fallen on his head.
“Even me.” She hadn’t planned on it, but couldn’t disappoint him.
And so she did. They waited until the crowd of kids thinned, and then Molly and Schrodinger made their way up to the second floor, where Marge had set up a large mahogany chair that Molly vaguely remembered from childhood. It had been her grandfather’s, and he’d played Santa for them, sitting in the same great chair, before he’d died. Marge must have saved it. Molly smiled.
The Santa sitting now in the chair was no old man pretending, though. It was obvious that there was no pillow strapped to his belly, and the white beard that flowed over his dark red robe was long, luxurious and the very end (which brushed the furred edge of his robe) wiggled as he spoke to the person on his lap. Because it wasn’t just kids lining up to talk to him; Molly saw Drew and Tom waiting in front of them, as well as Sue and Lai a little further up. Everyone in the Cove seemed to be packed into the store.
When it was their turn, Molly let Schrodinger jump up first. Santa leaned in and listened intently to what he said, and Molly knew it had to be serious, because Schrodinger forgot himself and his dignity enough to put a paw on Santa’s chest and raise himself up to look the old elf right in the eyes. She didn’t listen in, though she could have – their bond was that tight. But it wouldn’t have been right.
And then he jumped down and turned to her. Your turn!
Molly sat herself gingerly down on Santa’s lap and looked up into his bright blue eyes. “And what would you like for Christmas, Molly?” he asked, his voice sounding like all he did was laugh. Marge had found a perfect Santa, she realized.
Opening her mouth to say something cute, Molly heard herself say, “I’d like happiness, Santa. Happiness for myself and anyone else who needs it.”
“That’s a big request,” Santa said, his eyes twinkling. “But a good one. I’ll see what I can do.” And then he cocked his head. “Although I think someone else might be taking care of your happiness. I hear you have a Secret Admirer.”
She laughed. “Schrodinger told you!”
He winked. “Santa knows every, you know. Enjoy your Christmas, Molly, and we’ll make sure there’s something special under your tree this year.”
At the end of the afternoon, Santa got up. Molly and Schrodinger were upstairs, making sure the tables of cookies were stocked, and saw him leave. Not through the front door, as she was expecting. Oh no.
Instead, Santa spread his arms wide and said, “Merry Christmas to all!” And then he laid his finger on the side of his nose, nodded once…and vanished.