The Miracle on 34th Street (8 page)

The one person in the world who knew them the best.

Bryan took Dorey's hand. She did not let go.

They turned to the priest and waited for him to begin.

December 25, 7:17 A.M.
Christmas Day

She didn't know what she expected to see under the tree.

All she knew was that she didn't get what she wanted.

Susan sat silently in front of her Christmas tree. Presents were piled underneath. That was nice. But they were exactly the same ones that had been there the night before. In the same arrangement.

Which made perfect sense. Kriss Kringle was a nice man, not a miracle worker. He'd have his job back next year, and that was what the whole thing was about, wasn't it?

She glanced at the glass Santa ornament on the tree. She narrowed her eyes. It seemed to be
glowing
.

The light jittered and jumped. It left the ornament and hovered on the wall.

Susan's eyes followed the light as it shot upward to the ceiling, then back down again, then across the wall, around her, behind her . . . and right back to its source.

A polished gold ring. On her mom's finger.

Susan looked up slowly. Her mom was dressed in a robe, sipping coffee, leaning against the living room archway.

Wearing a ring
.

"Holy smokes." Susan muttered

"I have something to tell you," Dorey said gently.

Bryan walked in behind her.

Susan's grin was brighter than the Christmas tree.
He
was wearing a ring, too!

"What did you get for Christmas, Susan?" Bryan asked cheerfully.

Susan didn't answer. She ran toward her mother and threw her arms around her waist.

Her Christmas wish had come true.

There
was
a Santa Claus!

Hours later, Susan was in the back of a cab with her mom and her new stepfather. Outside, fresh snow blanketed snug suburban houses and weighed down tree branches.

"Susan, I know what you asked Mr. Kringle for," Dorey said, "but that's not why we're going to the house."

"We're going to the house they showed in the catalog, right?" Susan asked. "That's the house I told him I wanted!"

Dorey rolled her eyes. "We're going there because it
snowed
and the house is very pretty and Mr. Shellhammer wants to take some photos for next year's Christmas catalog." She folded her arms and grumbled, "Which I think, by the way, is awfully bold of him. It
is
a holiday."

"And a honeymoon," Bryan reminded her.

Susan shook her head. "You're wro-ong, Mom." The taxi rolled into the driveway of the house. Dorey looked around for the photographer's van, but it wasn't there. The house looked deserted.

"Where is everybody?" she asked, getting out of the cab.

Susan noticed the mailbox at the end of the drive. The name
Walker-Bedford
was painted on its side.

As Dorey approached the front door of the house, it opened. Shellhammer stood there, smiling. He held out a set of keys toward her. "You got a bonus."

"I knew it!" Susan screamed.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Dorey stammered.

"It's your house," Shellhammer replied "Cole called me at one o'clock in the morning. He said he wanted to buy you and your husband—" He looked at Bryan. "Did you get married?"

Bryan nodded. "Last night."

Dorey stared numbly at the house. "I can't believe it," she said under her breath.

"Congratulations," Shellhammer said to Bryan. "Was this planned?"

"No," Bryan answered.

"I can't believe it," Dorey muttered again.

"You saved Cole's and we're all grateful," Shellhammer said. "Mr. Cole would be here himself but . . . well, he's the chairman and he has me to do these sorts of things for him." He turned to his car. "Bye-bye."

"Thank you, Donald," Dorey said "I don't know what to say except Merry Christmas."

As Shellhammer drove off, Bryan pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and paid the taxi driver.

"How did you get a free house?" the driver asked.

"I'm Santa Claus's attorney," Bryan replied.

The cab driver quickly backed away.

Bryan put his arms around Susan and Dorey. The three of them headed into their new home.

They stopped just inside the front door.

A huge Christmas tree stood in the corner, glowing with lights, tinsel, and ornaments. A fire crackled in a brick fireplace. A puffy armchair, a sofa, a thick Oriental rug—the room was decorated with Cole's finest furnishings.

"This is the house I asked Kriss for, and he got it for me," Susan said. "And he got me a dad. The third thing, I'll just have to wait for." She looked at Dorey. "But he'll get it for me, won't he?"

"If Kriss said he'd get you something," Bryan answered, "I'll bet it's already on the way."

"I guess there's no doubt about it—he's real!" Susan was beaming. "I'm going up and look at my new room. Excuse me."

As she sped up the stairs, Dorey called out, "Susan?"

Susan looked over the stairway railing. "What?"

"What else did you ask Mr. Kringle for?"

"A baby brother. See ya."

Dorey turned slowly to Bryan.

Together they both looked down at her tummy.

EPILOGUE
December 26, 7:34 P.M.
364 Days To Next Christmas

San Francisco was cool and cloudy. In the Brewster Nursing Home, some of the elderly tenants were taking ornaments off the tree.

At the front desk, the clerk said to a new applicant, "It's a comfortable place. We have very few complaints."

Kriss Kringle looked around and nodded. "It'll do just fine."

"Mrs. Brewster will sign you in," the clerk replied. "Down the hall, first door on your right."

As Kriss walked away, the clerk called out, "Excuse me, sir. I didn't catch your name."

"Kringle. Kriss Kringle." The clerk's smile drooped.

Kriss Kringle winked. Then he turned and walked to his room.

It had been a long night and he was very, very tired.

 

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