“You wanted to go on my honeymoon?” Merissa asked in a stupor.
“Well, not exactly. But we both know Kyle would have wanted you to go anyway and not waste his gift. He spent months planning that surprise.”
“You helped him?” Merissa asked.
“Sort of. Just directed your guy to a few sites online,” Amy said.
“I don’t understand.” Merissa gazed at the envelope Amy held in her hand. “I shredded it! It can’t be the same one, but the pictures and the writing are all identical. It’s Kyle.” Merissa jumped from the couch and began to pace. “Now I know I’m going crazy. But I am grateful to have you along for the ride this time around.”
“I refuse crazy!” said Amy. “Maybe someone out there has the recipe for magic glue. They should market it. They’d make a fortune.” She glanced at the top left corner. A picture of Santa dropping a flat parcel from the sky, complete with Merry-Christmas-curly-ribbons fluttering in the breeze, cascaded downward. “Was this Santa return address sticker on the original envelope?”
Merissa stopped striding back and forth and studied the wrap closer. “I don’t think so. There was something Santa-like there but no address that said, delivery from the North Pole.”
“Perhaps not, but just maybe Kyle’s ghost delivered the second one, under the cloak of the Claus family,” said Amy. Merissa frowned but it did not stop her friend’s imagination from running wild.
Amy turned the envelope upside down and spilled the contents out on the table. “The brochure – same cruise – July 5th leaving from Fort Lauderdale, Florida.” She exhaled for effect. “I’ve never been to Florida.” Amy waved a piece of paper in the air. “The boarding passes? I don’t think the envelope included them the last time. It needs to be closer to sailing time to get these babies.” Her excitement grew despite her efforts to squelch it.
“Well, it must be close enough now, because here they are. My name and… this is crazy-wrong. Your name is there instead of Kyle’s.”
Amy squealed, then clasped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”
“You are not sorry. You actually want to go on my honeymoon?” said Merissa.
“It’s not your honeymoon anymore. It’s clear someone wants you to go – and not by yourself. I suppose I’m the second choice.” Amy grinned. “But I don’t care. I’m in if you are.”
“The North Pole’s sick idea of a joke will not manipulate me,” Merissa said.
“Lighten up. Maybe Mrs. Claus has a heart for lonely people, or better yet, a close connection to the Miracle-Maker, and together they matched you and me up for a good time.”
“You just said Kyle’s ghost sent it. You are grasping at straws.” Merissa picked up a zip-lock bag and examined it. A velvet card holding a Christmas ornament of half a cruise ship was there. “Half a ship?” Merissa wrinkled her brow. “Sounds like this ship might sink.”
“Or…” Amy moved closer and whispered the big reveal. “Maybe a mysterious man will have the other half, and it will be love at first sight.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Merissa pushed her away.
“There are single men on cruises, and what better place to test your wings – no commitment necessary – just fun. Come on – in July, it will be a whole year since Kyle’s demise. It’s time to see if there are any fish in the deep blue sea worth baiting.” When Merissa scowled, Amy continued. “Surely you won’t disappoint the North Pole who went to all this trouble to heal your, sorry-cold heart.”
“I don’t know. Sounds crazy. For all we know, the sender could be a stalker,” said Merissa.
“I’ll protect you!” Amy groaned. “Promise me you’ll give it serious thought. And just to be on the safe side, I’m keeping my boarding pass, in case you get rip-happy again.” She picked up the pass with her name on it and headed for the door. “I’ll be here at six tonight to pick you up for Karaoke. Wear something nice.”
Amy flew out the door leaving Merissa holding the manila envelope.
******
Across the city, Chad Livingston scooped the mail from his box. It was a wonder the mailman didn’t stop delivery when he was away from home. He’d just returned from a two-week assignment in England, and the enclosed space was full to overflowing. He gathered it in his arms and headed for the elevator.
The team abroad had been enthusiastic hosts, showing him all the sites and nightlife they could squeeze into evenings and weekends. He couldn’t wait to unpack and shut the blinds. He’d had enough excitement to last for a while; not that he didn’t like a good time same as everybody else, but Chad was most creative during the quiet hours, and he had not had nearly enough of those lately.
He’d snapped photographs galore and couldn’t wait to develop them and perhaps sketch a few to add to his files of drawings no one ever saw but him. He was a businessman, not an illustrator. He’d tried the starving-artist route and had sadly back paddled to work in his trained area of expertize in human resources. Chad couldn’t complain. He’d landed a great job that took him to many countries, and he enjoyed finding solutions to problems in the work world – of which there were many – both foreign and domestic. But mostly, the artist
