“Then John and I arrived to set your world right? Am I supposed to believe that?”
“God uses the least of us to do his bidding.”
“We can agree on that, Mrs. Claus.”
“I’ve not convinced you to stay, have I? You’re leaving, knowing it will break my son’s heart.”
Pam threw her hands in the air. “This is a hard pill to swallow, and to be perfectly honest, I’m not prepared to toss in my sane world for your fantasy land.”
She turned off the screen. “It’s your choice, my dear. But be forewarned, love conquers the most stubborn of hearts.”
Saying goodbye to John was the hardest thing Pam ever did. Her head refused to give into her turbulent emotions. John was true to his word and did not try changing her mind, although the sorrow in his eyes proclaimed the story his mouth refused to speak. Pam stood in front of the magic door and twisted the key. It fell to the floor with a clatter that cracked her heart. She cried aloud as her body entered the swirling tunnel. And when she stepped out into the back alley in Cedar Springs, Pam fell to her knees and sobbed. She was home, awake, and fully realizing the entire adventure could never be wiped from her mind. This waking dream would torment forever.
Mid-December, the hospital administration once again lost Pamela’s name and booked her off work for a five-day stretch during the holiday season. December twenty-third she spent the entire day deep cleaning her neglected apartment. As night fell upon Cedar Springs, the darkness outside her window displayed a spectacular show of stars in the sky.
Pam collapsed next to a cozy fire with a mug of hot chocolate. She breathed in the fresh scent of the pine needles, and with sweet-sadness recalled John’s desire to sniff that same aroma on his tiny artificial tree. Most things triggered memories of John Doe. She wondered if Christmas would be forever spoiled now that she’d cast him from her life. His absence created a void in her days that zapped any zest for adventure and sucked her energy dry.
Five long months should have been enough time to forget a man, but her heart continued to ache, and the vision of his face sketched deep in her heart never gave her a moment of peace. In the beginning, Pam had half expected him to jump out from around a corner, just to get a rise out of her. She watched for him and hated herself for it. As she’d moved through her lonely routines of late, Pam realized that she’d made a huge mistake in letting him go. Surely they could have worked out a doable plan, one to satisfy both worlds. Desperation had sent her to do the unthinkable. A week ago she’d placed a letter in the children’s Santa mailbox, hoping John would somehow find it. All I want for Christmas is you was her only request this year.
Pam carried her empty cup into the kitchen, rinsed it, and then stacked it in the dishwasher. Now fully loaded, she shut the door tight and turned the machine on to run its cycle. At the island counter, her hand shook as it grasped the knob of the drawer where she’d stashed the base of the gift from the North Pole. Common sense said, no, leave it there. Seeing it would only open unhealed wounds. Who was she kidding? The aching loss throbbed either way.
Pam slid the drawer open and there laid the object of debate, displaying its July splendor. The stark white daisies shone with purity, and the inner golden of the nucleus provided a rich contrast in color. The key was the only part missing. She’d not brought it back from Santa Ville, and now the base seemed to lack its former luster without the brilliant magical presence of the key.
Pam stood and stared at the ornament as if frozen in time. She heard the doorbell ring, and glanced at the microwave. Ten o’clock. Who on earth visited at this hour? She debated not answering, but inquisitiveness got the better of her. Despite her feeble attempts to squelch these reactions, Pam had evolved into a more curious person since her summer adventures with John. So, when the ringing persisted, she made her way to the entry, dressed in her Christmas flannelette pajamas and her hair gathered into a messy knot on top of her head.
Pam inched open the door, ready to dump a piece of her mind upon the caller. Her heart raced, and her feet froze to the spot. Her mind entered a state of pause, unsure if this was merely one of the many dreams she’d experienced these long, lonely months.
“Breathe,” said John.
Pam exhaled, and continued to stare. John wore beige dress pants and a navy sports jacket. He’d polished the black leather on his shoes to a brilliant shine. The manly stubble he’d grown on his face charmed her, and his hair was brushed and styled to perfection. In his hand, he held a full bouquet of white daisies.
John stepped closer. “A peace offering. May I come in?”
Pam relieved him of the flowers and moved to the side to allow him passage. Still, words would not form on her lips. She closed the door, turning again to see him disappear into the kitchen. Her feet dragged with uncertainty. Hadn’t she just admitted to her stubborn self she’d made a mistake concerning John?
