“Santa Claus Is Coming to Town”
T
he station seemed unnaturally quiet after the choir and the members of the VFW Women’s Auxiliary had left. The lively chatter and shared laughter that had filled the room died down to a low hum.
Matt knew he should phone home, that he’d delayed it as long as he dared. With the time difference between the east and west coasts, it wasn’t quite four in the afternoon in Los Angeles. The dread that settled over him depleted the sense of well-being he’d experienced over the past few hours.
He didn’t look forward to a telephone confrontation with Pam, but as far as he could see there was no avoiding one. He could almost hear her voice, starting low and quickly gaining volume until it reached a shrill, near-hysterical pitch.
He wished things could be different, but he knew she’d start in on him, and then, despite his best efforts, he’d retaliate. Soon their exchange would escalate into a full-blown fight.
His feet felt weighted as he crossed the station to the row of pay phones. He slipped his credit card through the appropriate slot, punched in his home number and waited for the line to connect.
The phone rang twice, three times, then four before the answering machine came on. Bored, he tapped his foot while he listened to the message he’d recorded earlier in the year. When he heard the signal, he was ready. “Pam, it’s Matt. I’m sorry about this, but I got caught in the snowstorm that struck Maine yesterday. The flights out of Bangor were canceled, so the airline put me on a train for Boston. Now the train tracks are out and I don’t have a clue when I’ll be home. As soon as I reach Boston, probably sometime Christmas morning, I’ll phone and let you know when to expect me. I’m sorry about this, but it’s out of my control. Kiss the kids for me and I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
The relief that came over him at not getting caught in a verbal battle with his wife was like an unexpected gift. This wasn’t how it should be, but he felt powerless to change the dynamics of their marriage. Somewhere along the road the partnership they’d once shared had fallen apart. He wasn’t the only one who felt miserable; he knew that. The look in Pam’s eyes as he’d walked through the house, suitcase in hand, had told him he wasn’t the only one thinking about a separation.
His mood was oppressive by the time he returned to his seat.
“What about Santa?” Matt heard Kate ask her mother.
“Honey, he’s still coming to Grandma’s house.” Kate’s mother was busy making up a bed for her daughter. She placed a pillow at one end of the bench and arranged the blanket so the little girl could sleep between its folds.
“But, Mom, I’m
not
at Grandma Gibson’s house—I’m
here.
Santa might not know.”
Elise apparently needed a minute to think about that. “Grandma will have to tell him.”
“But what if Santa decides to try to find me here, instead of leaving my presents with Grandma?”
“Kate, please, can’t you just trust that you’re going to get your gifts?”
Arms crossed, the child shook her head stubbornly. “No, I can’t,” she said, her voice as serious as the expression on her face. “You told me Daddy was going to come see me before we left and he didn’t.”
“Honey, I don’t have any control over what your father says and does. I’m sorry he disappointed you.”
Her look said it wasn’t the first time mother and child had been let down.
Kate started to whimper.
“Sweetheart, please,” Elise whispered. She seemed close to breaking down herself. She picked up her daughter and held her close. As she gently rocked the little girl, her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Santa won’t forget you.”
“Daddy did.”
“No, honey, I’m sure he didn’t, not really.”
“Then why didn’t he come like he said?”
“Because…” Elise began, then hesitated and forcefully expelled her breath. “It’s complicated.”
“Everything’s complicated since you and Daddy divorced.”
Matt felt like an eavesdropper, yet he couldn’t tune out the conversation between mother and child. Part of him yearned to let Kate use his credit card to phone her father, but if he suggested that, Elise would know he’d been listening in.
Hearing Kate cry about being forgotten by her dad left Matt to wonder if this would be his own children’s future should he and Pam decide to split up. He didn’t want a divorce, never had. But it was obvious they couldn’t continue the way they’d been going—belittling each other, arguing, eroding the foundation of their love and commitment.
“Why didn’t Daddy come see me like he said he would?” Kate persisted.
Elise took her time answering. “Your daddy was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?”
“He felt bad.”
“About what?”
“Being late helping to pay the bills. He didn’t come see you because…well, because I don’t think he could afford to buy you anything for Christmas, and he didn’t want you to be disappointed in him because he didn’t have a gift.”
Kate mulled that over for a while, nibbling her bottom lip. “I love him and I didn’t have a gift for him, either.”
“Your daddy loves you, Kate, that much I know.”
“Can I talk to him myself?”
Elise took a deep breath. “You can phone him when we reach Grandma’s house, and you can tell him about spending the night in the train depot. He’ll want to hear about all your adventures on Christmas Eve.”
Matt considered what would happen to his relationship with his children if he and Pam went their separate ways. The love he felt for Rachel and Jimmy ran deep, and the idea of Pam having to make excuses for him…
His thoughts tumbled to an abrupt halt. That was exactly what Pam had been forced to do the afternoon he’d left for Maine. Jimmy had been counting on him to attend the school Christmas program and, instead, he’d raced off to the airport. Matt’s stomach knotted, and he sat back, wiping a hand down his face.
A whispered discussion broke out between the widow and the elderly couple who’d supplied the oranges. Matt had no idea what was going on and, caught up in his own musing, didn’t much care.
Not long afterward, he discovered that a few of the senior crowd had decided to take this matter of Christmas for the two children into their own hands.
Cathy walked by Kate, paused suddenly and held one hand to her ear. “Did you hear something?” she asked the youngster.
“Not me,” Kate answered.
“I think it’s bells.”
Elise cupped her ear. “Reindeer feet?”
“Bells,” Cathy returned pointedly.
“Yes,” Louise piped up. “It’s definitely the sound of bells. What could it be?”
They weren’t going to get any Academy Award nominations, but they did manage to convince the children.
“I hear bells!” the other child called. “I do, I do.” It was the first time the little boy had spoken all day.
Kate sat up straight on her mother’s lap. “I hear them, too.”
Matt had to admit the two old ladies really had him going; he could almost hear them himself. Then he realized he really
could
hear the jingle of bells.
A knock sounded loudly on the station door. “I’ll get it.” Sam eagerly stepped to the door. He opened it a couple of inches, nodded a few times and looked over his shoulder. “Do we have a little girl named Kate here and a boy…Charlie?”
“Charles,” his mother corrected.
“Kate and Charles,” Sam informed the mysterious visitor no one was allowed to see. “As a matter of fact, Kate and Charles
are
here,” Sam said loudly. “You do…of course. I’ll see to it personally. Now don’t you worry, you have plenty of other deliveries to make tonight. You’d best be on your way.”
Matt glanced around and noticed that Nick Berry was missing…and he seemed to remember that their baby had a rattle with bells inside.
The room went quiet as Sam closed the door, and the jingling receded. He had a pillowcase in one hand, with a couple of wrapped gifts inside. “That was Santa Claus,” he announced. “He heard that Kate and Charles were stuck here on Christmas Eve. Santa wanted them to know he hadn’t forgotten them.”
“Did he bring my presents?” Kate sprang off her mother’s lap and ran toward Sam, still standing near the door.
Charles joined her, gazing up at the man with hopeful eyes.
“Santa wanted me to tell you he left plenty of gifts at your Grandma Gibson’s house, Kate, but he didn’t want you to worry that he’d missed you, so he dropped this off.” He thrust his arm into the pillowcase and produced a wrapped box.
Matt recognized it right away as one he’d seen poking out of Cathy Norris’s carry-on bag when she’d removed the tin of cookies.
“I believe this one is for you, Charles,” Sam said. The second gift went to the four-year-old. The boy raced back to his parents and dropped to his knees. He tore into the wrapping paper, scattering pieces in all directions. The minute Charles saw the rubber dinosaur, he cried out in delight and hugged it to his chest.
Kate, on the other hand, opened her present with delicate precision, carefully removing the ribbon first and placing it on the tree. Next came the wrapping paper. Matt couldn’t figure out how she did it, but she managed to pull off the Christmas wrap without tearing it even once. When she saw the Barbie doll, she looked up at her mother and smiled wonderingly.
“Daddy must have given it to Santa. This is what I told him I wanted.”
“I’m sure he did.” Elise was gracious enough to concur.
Matt didn’t know what had gone wrong in this woman’s marriage, but it wasn’t difficult to see the pain that divorce had brought into her life. Could bring into his own, if he allowed it to happen.
Cathy and the elderly couple exchanged smiles that their small ploy had worked. Actually Matt was touched by their generosity; they’d obviously given up Christmas presents meant for their own grandchildren.
He wasn’t sure what prompted the idea, but he reached for his briefcase. “As a matter of fact, Santa left a few goodies with me, too. Is anyone interested in a sample of the latest software from MicroChip International?”
It didn’t take long to discover that a number of people were.
“Are you sure, man?” the ex-hippie asked. “This is worth a good two hundred bucks in the store.”
“Five hundred, actually,” Matt said. “Consider it compliments of the company.”
“We’ve got extra pictures of the baby, if anyone would like,” Nick offered.
“Sure,” Len said. “Amy—my fiancée—is crazy about babies.” He took one and so did Cathy, Elise and several others.
As had happened earlier with the food, a variety of gifts, some wrapped and others not, started to appear. The joking and laughter continued during the impromptu gift exchange. By the end, everyone had both given and received at least one gift.
Sam, who’d stayed in the background most of the day, stepped forward with a worn Bible in his hand. “This being the night of our Savior’s birth,” he said, “I thought we might like to listen to the account of the first Christmas.”
Most people nodded in silent agreement. Sam pulled out a chair and set it close to their Christmas tree, then perched a pair of glasses on his nose.
The room hushed as he began to read. His rich resonant voice echoed through the depot. Everyone listened with an attentiveness Matt found amazing.
When he’d finished, Sam reverently closed the Bible and removed his glasses, tucking them into his shirt pocket. “It seems to me that we all have something in common with Mary and Joseph. They, too, were weary travelers and there wasn’t any room for them at the inn.” He paused and held up one hand. “I checked earlier and every room in this town has been booked for the night.”
There were grins and murmurs at his remark. Sam got to his feet and sang the first words of “Silent Night.” Everyone joined in, their voices rising in joyful sound. Matt thought he’d never heard anything so achingly beautiful, so…sincere.
As the last line died away, Sam walked over to the wall and turned out the light. The room went dim, but the outside lights cast a warm glow into the station’s interior.
“It’s nine o’clock,” the ex-hippie announced. “I haven’t been to bed this early in twenty years, but I’m more than ready to hit the hay.”
His wife giggled. The two of them cuddled awkwardly on the hard bench, kissing and whispering.
Matt felt a pang of regret at seeing the closeness they shared, a closeness so sadly lacking in his own marriage. He glanced at his watch, certain that Pam would be home now, probably seething about the brief message he’d left. Nevertheless he wanted to talk to her. No, he corrected himself, he
needed
to talk to her.
Light from the window guided him to the far wall of the station, to the phones. Because it was still early, people continued to talk. He slipped his credit card through the slot and waited for the line to connect.
Pam answered on the first ring. “Hello.” Her clipped tone told him she was angry, as he’d expected.
“It’s Matt,” he said.
“Matt?” She paused. “Matt?” she said again. “Where—”
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he whispered.
“How can you ‘Merry Christmas’ me with the kids screaming in my ear? Your parents are due any minute, and the house is a mess. The cat tipped over the Christmas tree and you’re…you’re…” She burst into tears.
“Pam,” he said softly. “Honey, don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it! I suppose you’re in some posh hotel, ogling the cocktail waitress, while I’m here—”
“I’m not in any hotel.”
“Then where are you?”
“A hundred-year-old train depot with…” Now it was his turn to pause. “With friends who were strangers not that long ago.”
“A train depot?” She sniffled and sounded unsure.
“It’s a long story and I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”
“You didn’t phone all week.”
“I know and I’m sorry, sweetheart, really sorry. It was childish and silly of me to let our argument stand in the way of talking to you and the kids.”
“You haven’t called me sweetheart in a long time.”