“I have the address,” Sandra said, irritated that he made light of the possibility of what she labelled as a miraculous intervention.
“I’ve annoyed you, Sandra. I’m sorry. Continue with your story.”
“Before your arrival at the resort, I received a similar package from the North Pole. The Christmas tree bulb and a wee note attached hinting I might find peace there.” She frowned at Robert. “We both know there was no peace when I visited your store.”
“You mean, you went there to test out the Santa theory?” His palm cupped his chin as his elbow leaned closer, fully concentrating on every word Sandra spoke.
“That look already tells me you’ve fallen prey to the first fear I spouted. You think I’m crazy.”
“On the contrary. The facts speak for themselves. If one romance came to pass, then I’m eager to see the second part. Mrs. Claus seems to play favoritism to the Dristoll family.”
“So, you’re already thinking there is something in this for you?” said Sandra as Robert winked. “You are hopeless.” She cleared her throat and continued the tale. “When you said you’d meet with the girls alone, I wondered what to do with my day. I decided to visit a place where I’d known peace in my marriage and my life. My mission was to bask in memories and see if Braxton considered you a good pick for my future.”
“Good idea. I like that touch.” His mood was playful and Sandra could not resist laughing at his little-boy look. “So, you really had no idea it was my store?”
“Why would I?” asked Sandra. “But in my evaluation, the day did not usher in any sense of confirmation or peace that might launch me into a new season of life.”
“You need permission? Why can’t you just let the chips fall where there may? You seem fairly easy-going about most things.”
“Apparently not issues that tear at my heart. My son is getting married and Braxton is not here to share the day. Regardless of the fun I’m having with you, it remains a hurdle for my heart.”
“Granted. And the fact that the wedding happens on the first anniversary of your husband’s death must toss your emotions into an offensive playing mode.”
“It’s healing for the kids, so I chose to piggy-back their concept and rake in my share of the remedy.”
“And how’s that going for you?” Robert’s face became serious and concerned.
“Very well, all things considered. You, Mr. Wedding Planner, have been a refreshing distraction.”
Robert pouted. “I hoped for so much more.”
“Well, keep a watch under your Christmas tree. Maybe you’ll get a gift from the North Pole.”
“I don’t need one,” said Robert emphatically. “She sent me you. That’s my take on the whole magical intervention. I rest my case.”
Just then a truck drove by on the way to the beach parking lot. “Looks like the forces have arrived and we are late for work.” Sandra stood to her feet. “Let your creative juices flow free, Robert. I want this to be the best day for my kids.”
Saturday, Sandra exchanged her role as assistant to the wedding planner for the mother of the groom. Angie had the whole morning booked at the spa for pedicures, manicures, make-up, hair styling and a light message to ease out the stress of wedding-day jitters. The maid of honor, Janice, a childhood friend who lived in Pineville, would be the only one to walk the beach carpet ahead of the bride. The three women laughed and enjoyed the pampering all morning long. At noon they headed for the inn.
The chef sent in a small, light lunch as they’d requested. Sandra did not want to begin the day on a full stomach. Miraculously, not one rain cloud invaded their day and spirits were high as they pulled the dresses from the protective covering.
Angie insisted Sandra and Janice dress first. She relaxed with a glass of lemonade, oohing and awing at all the right moments. When the two finished they stood in front of mirrored sliding doors for the final inspection.
“Mother,” began Angie. “Can I call you that? Today everything changes and we’re family.”
Sandra kissed her cheek. “I’d like nothing more. You are my dream come true – a daughter – finally.”
“You look far too young to be anyone’s mother. Trevor won’t know who to stare after.”
Sandra laughed. “I doubt that. My son is over the top in love with you, and will only have eyes for the bride today.”
Angie giggled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Now, let’s get you dressed. The ceremony begins in one hour.” They’d barely got started when a knock sounded at the door.
Sandra opened it a crack and peered out. It was Charles. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I thought you’d like to see this note. Mr. Fredricks sends his sincerest apologies.”
She took the note and shut the door. Unfolding it, she read.
My dearest Sandra.
The only thing that would keep from spending this momentous day with you is the dire emergency that landed on my step a few minutes ago. The day will run like clockwork and I hope to return before you have time to miss me. Give my best wishes to the bride and know that I love you. The words look better written on paper, not hiding in my heart. Pray for me, as I will for you.
Yours always, Robert.
The message puzzled Sandra. Could the events of the day run like clock-work without the man who created it? All active participants had received a schedule, and the rehearsal Thursday night had gone off without a hitch on the barren landscape. The venue appeared different now. The paradise scene awaiting them took her breath away.
“Mother?” Angie’s voice interrupted. “Are you all right?”
“It’s Robert. Something has called him away
