Christmas Eve Love Story

Nineteen

At twenty past two, Annie darted out in front of Marcus and Dylan like a linebacker.

“No, Marcus! Let me!”

She dodged this way and that, her hands cupped forward and shooing them away from the window. “Boys! Please!” They scuttled around her in a brutal offensive. Annie’s shout overlapped their mom’s. “ Stop! ”

Dylan tumbled into the retractable belt, taking Marcus with him.

And there went her whole display.

Down. Down. Down.

Down.

***

“Let me guess?” Annie asked Santa wearily as she and Braden finished fixing her trashed window. “Something’s missing?”

Santa strode to the cookie plate beside the chair and picked it up.

“There are two oatmeal raisin cookies!” she announced. “I’ve heard they’re Santa’s favorites!” Annie’s pulse raced. Was she ever going to break out of this time loop, or have Braden remember?

Braden wore a puzzled look. “Wait. What?”

This was so disheartening in so many ways.

Santa lifted a fake oatmeal raisin cookie off the plate and evaluated it closely. “Hmm, yes. Nice touch. But!”—Santa held up a finger—“Isn’t there generally a note?”

“A note?” asked Annie.

Braden stepped forward, taking the cookie plate from Santa. He stared down at it and glanced at Annie. “He’s right,” he said. “Kids still do that, don’t they?”

Annie wasn’t totally sure. For all she knew, there was now a Santa app of some kind, and they texted him. “Well, I supposed they could?” She turned up her hands.

Santa placed the fake oatmeal cookie on the plate as Braden held it. “Well, I for one think the idea is grand. I always love hearing from little ones.” He winked at Annie and Braden. “Big ones too.” Annie wasn’t sure how a note for Santa was going to majorly improve her display, or more greatly impress Veronica Lawson, but—at this point—anything was worth a try.

Braden followed her to the Stationery Department, surveying a wall of individual note card choices. “What kind do you think?”

Braden nodded to another wall holding Christmas cards. “Maybe one of those?”

What a great idea. “Of course!”

He selected a card out from the rack, turning it to face Annie. “How about this one?” The illustrated card showed an old-timey Santa with his reindeer team poised on a rooftop. Santa was out of his sleigh and had a big sack of toys slung over his shoulder. Smoke curled from the chimney of the house, and sparkly stars lit up the wintry night sky.

“I think that’s perfect.” This area of the store was quiet with the rest of Lawson’s shutting down. She carried the card to the register and rang it up using her employee code, putting it on her store account, like she did for work supplies. She hunted around for a pen.

Braden grabbed one from the counter, handing it to her. “Looking for this?”

She smiled. “Thanks.” The pen slipped through her fingers, plummeting to the floor. “Oh!” Braden grabbed it, handing it to her. His eyes locked on hers, and Annie’s heart raced.

“I can’t help having the feeling we’ve done this before.” His mouth was so close, Annie thought she saw stars. No. Those were the bright holiday lights on the fake tree by the register. “Annie,” he said, standing, “level with me.”

She stood and held on to the counter. “Hmm?”

“When we met this morning on the escalator, how did you know about Germany?”

“I, er.” She bit her lip. “Braden,” she said, all breathy. “I think you told me.”

“Did I?” he asked. Still, he drew nearer. “When?”

Yeah, when? Think, think, think, think.

“Er, maybe at the holiday party?”

He blinked. “You were at the holiday party?”

“I, uh—arrived very late.”

“Yeah.” He stared at the mini Christmas tree beside her and back in her eyes. “That’s probably it.”

“There were a lot of people there! Gobs and gobs!”

“Yeah, but you ? I think I would remember.”

Not accurate, but okay. Also not your fault.

She opened the card and set it on the counter, her heart pounding. Keeping this enormous secret from Braden was getting next to impossible. It was even more impossible to think of sharing it with him. The man didn’t even believe in time travel, so Christmas magic and Santa spells were kind of a stretch.

“We could probably leave it blank,” Braden told her. She looked up and he shrugged. “I mean, who’s to know?”

She gasped, but she was playing. This was one of the things she loved best about being around Braden, their flirty banter. And she was getting better at it. She hoped. “We’d know.” She put on teasing tones. “And maybe so would Santa.” She nodded in the direction of Santa’s workshop, and Braden laughed.

“With that guy ,” he said, “you never know.”

Annie paused with the pen hovering above the open card. It was blank inside. “Hmm. What should we say?”

Braden laid a hand on the counter. “How about”—his eyes sparkled devilishly—“‘Thanks for making our Christmas’?”

“We’re writing the note to him ?” She glanced at the workshop, and Braden smirked.

“Why not to him ? He’s the closest thing to Santa we’ve got.”

Annie dropped her voice in a whisper. “Who’s to say they’re not one and the same?”

Braden chuckled and shook his head. “The jury’s still out.”

“All right,” she said boldly. “Why not?” She wrote To Santa, Thanks for making our Christmas! with a flourish and looked up. “Do we sign it?”

Braden smiled. “Of course.” He nodded for her to go ahead. “You first.” This was such a silly game, but she was enjoying playing it with Braden. “Hey, Annie,” he asked as she stuffed the note card into its envelope. “Do you maybe have time to grab a coffee?”

“A merry-Christmas-Eve cup?” She smiled, her heart so light. At least she was getting to repeat the good parts of this day, and not just the bad. In some ways, the good parts kept getting better. If only she could let Braden in on her secret. But how?

Annie sipped from her coffee at the Blue Dot, gathering her nerve. She wanted to tell Braden what was going on and have him understand. So badly. Since Santa hadn’t helped her, maybe Braden would. It was hard to know how he’d react, but her heart said she should risk it.

Braden closed the donut bag, folding over its flap. “I’m really sorry you had such a rough day.” He frowned. “Getting your window totaled was a tough break after you worked so hard on it. Then to have Veronica Lawson come in, after she’d already hinted to your boss about your job being on the line. Man, oh man”—he blew out a breath—“talk about brutal.”

“So, yeah,” Annie said. “About that…?” She laid her mittens on top of her hat, stalling.

“Hmm?” He unzipped his jacket and looked up, meeting her eyes.

“Today’s maybe been worse than I let on,” she said.

“How so?”

“Braden, I—” She ran her fingers through her hair. How could she say this without sounding ridiculous? Maybe I should just spill it . “I feel like I’m stuck in a time loop. No. Not just feel like .” She exhaled a shaky breath. “I believe I am.”

“It’s been a very stressful day,” he said soothingly.

“No! It’s not about that.” Would he ever believe her? “You’re going to think I’ve lost it.”

“No, I won’t, Annie.” His eyes glimmered kindly. “So, tell me. What’s been going on?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Lots and lots of the same stuff, but different things too.”

“Such as?”

“This morning when I woke up”—she viewed him askance—“it was December 24.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

“Braden, I’m serious.”

He scanned her eyes, seeing that she was. “I’m listening.”

“Everything that’s happened today, it happened to me yesterday too. No. Wait. Not everything. But most things.” She shook her head. “All I know is that—no matter what I do—when I go to bed at night, it’s Christmas Eve and a storm is raging. But, the next morning when I wake up, the sky’s all cloudy again, and the sidewalks are clear. It’s like the whole day before never happened, and it’s Christmas Eve all over again.”

His eyes widened. “That does sound like a lot.”

“You must think I’m the weirdest per—”

“No, Annie. I don’t think that at all. What I do think is that you’ve been under tons of stress, and stress does things to us, makes it hard to think clearly sometimes. I get it.” He reached out and took her hand. “How can I help?” The look in his eyes was so tender. So caring, she wanted to weep.

She couldn’t believe her ears. “What?”

“I’m asking, Annie. How can I help you move past this?”

“I”—she caught her breath—“really don’t know.”

He gently squeezed her hand. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know you’re one special woman. A very capable person too. So, whatever’s troubling you, there’s got to be a way around it. And if I can help, I will.”

Heat filled her eyes because he was being so awesome. “That’s just it,” she whimpered. “I don’t even understand the problem—totally.”

“You know what I think?” He took her other hand in his so both sets of their hands linked on the tabletop. “I think that sometimes it’s good not to think too far ahead. That’s happened to me when I’ve gotten stuck.”

“You’ve been stuck?” she asked quietly.

He held her hands tighter, not letting go. “There was a bad scene in Baghdad.” His face screwed up in anguish, and her heart bled for him.

She gently squeezed his hands. “You lost someone.”

He nodded grimly. “More than one friend, and, I won’t lie—afterward—things were rough.” He blinked and looked away.

Annie’s heart pounded. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He frowned. “Maybe it was? My troops trusted me. I didn’t spot the ambush.”

“Braden.”

“I’d have nightmares,” he went on. “It was like it kept happening, again and again. I couldn’t break out of the cycle.”

Her soul ached for him. “So what did you do?”

“The army sent me for counseling. All of us survivors, actually.” Was he suggesting that for her too? “Counseling’s not a bad thing, and it can help. If you find you can’t get out of this rut, you might want to consider it.” But she was petrified to tell a counselor about this. Who knew what would happen to her then? “In any case,” he said. “You might not need it, but I did. I lost some special people.”

“Me too.” The words scraped from her tender throat.

“What’s that?”

“I did too, I mean,” she said quietly, keeping their conversation confidential in the busy diner. “Not to undermine what you went through, but I lost my parents—both of them at once.” Did he recall her mentioning losing her parents previously?

“Oh, Annie.” From his crestfallen face, apparently not. “How terrible for you, upsetting.” He gripped her hands tighter. “How old?”

“Nine.” Pain seared through her chest. It was always hard talking about it. This was one topic Annie didn’t care to revisit time and again.

He nodded, and she continued. “I did see a counselor. Tons of ‘professionals,’ truthfully. My Grandma Mable kept sending me. They say talking about trauma helps. But, in my case, I didn’t find that to be true. Talking about it only intensified the hurt.”

“Yeah,” he said gently. “I get it.”

She met his eyes. “I’m sorry you went through that too.”

“Thanks. It’s getting better.”

“Is it? How?”

He squared his shoulders, still holding her hands. “It helps not to look too far ahead. Take things day by day.”

“Yeah, but”—she frowned glumly—“what if every day is the same one?”

He leaned closer and whispered. “Okay, hour by hour. Break it down. Baby steps.” Baby steps. That seemed to make sense. Except that would only mean she’d be moving slower instead of faster, and Annie was so past ready to sprint to Christmas Day.

“Here’s what I’d suggest,” he said. She held on to his hands, as he extended a lifeline. “I’d suggest you not worry about waking up tomorrow or getting to Christmas at all.”

“What?”

“Annie.” His fingers tightened around hers. “Enjoy today. Think about what you’ll be doing an hour from now. Plan for it, sure. And the hour after that. But here’s the thing. Sometimes we can’t always plan out everything because life throws us surprises.” He smiled. “This morning, for example, I had no idea you and I would be going out for coffee. Did— Wait.”

She grimaced. “I kind of did.”

Braden blew out a breath. “Look. I don’t one hundred percent understand what’s going on with you, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever this phase is you’re in, I’ve confidence you’ll get through it.” His confidence in her made her want to be confident in herself too.

“Thanks, Braden.”

He let go of her hands and pried open the donut bag. “So what do you say? Want to split this last one?”

Annie was famished and somehow feeling so much better. “You bet I do.”

***

Braden turned to Annie as they walked toward the subway. “I hope I didn’t lay too much on you back there.” Snowflakes dusted his hat, and he wiped them off with his glove. “I mean, about my time in the military.”

“Not at all.” She nudged his shoulder with hers in a way that seemed chummy, and a pleasant buzz hummed through him. “I’m glad you told me. And hey, hearing about it did make me feel better.” She pursed her lips. “Not that I’m happy in any way that—”

“It’s all right. I get it.” The shimmer in her eyes heated him through and through. He felt connected to her somehow, like they’d previously been through this together. But they couldn’t have actually done that unless he bought into the same version of reality she did. “You know, it’s funny about your déjà vu day, because sometimes I think I’m experiencing it too.”

“What?” She gasped, appearing hopeful. “Really?”

He shook his head. “I’m not all in like you are, but it’s sometimes hard to believe we only met this morning. I normally don’t spill so much about myself right off the bat.”

“But you seem so outgoing!” They scooted to the side of the sidewalk as a pair of women in a hurry scuttled by.

Braden held up his hand. “Outgoing? Maybe. But that’s me being friendly on the outside. When it comes to what’s in here”—he patted his chest through his heavy jacket—“I’m typically more careful about what I share”—he dove into her eyes—“and with whom.”

Annie smiled shyly. “In that case, thanks for sharing with me.” He had a hunch she was much the same way, and he was touched she’d also shared personal things with him—about her falling-out with Tina and her job being on the line, and so tragically losing her parents. Murky memories tugged at him. He felt like he’d known some of that before. But how could he have? It wasn’t like they’d been talking for days .

Or was it?

She trudged along in her worn snow boots. Ice coated the sidewalks, and store awnings hung heavy with snow. People everywhere scurried to get out of the weather. He stared at a window display of gingerbread men with waving arms and at another from an electronics store in which cell phones wore Santa hats. “I’ve always loved this time of year,” he said. “When I was a kid—”

The glimmer in her eyes said this wasn’t news.

Braden gawked at her. “Don’t tell me. You already knew about my folks bringing me into Manhattan?”

They paused at a street crossing. “Each window is special,” she said, “just like—”

“—its own little world.” A wave of recognition crashed over him. He’d definitely said that before—or she had. Annie gestured toward the street, and he saw the pedestrian light had changed and that a group of others had mostly crossed over, leaving him and Annie behind. They walked quickly to catch up. Braden thought hard, pondering this day from the moment it began and when he’d first met Annie by the lockers. No, wait. Not there. In the toy section? Wrong. On the escalators—elevator. A rolling tube of lip gloss spiraled toward him, and he trapped it with his shoe.

Braden blinked.

When had that happened?

A frame scrolled forward, like one movie scene transitioning to the next.

Braden bent to retrieve Annie’s shoe. “Looks like you dropped something,” he said, standing and handing it to her. She grabbed the toe of it, and he had the heel.

Both of them froze.

“Hey”—he stared at her, dazed—“have we—?”

No, of course not.

What? Had he dreamed that part?

No, he hadn’t been sleeping.

Daydreamed maybe?

“This is my stop,” Annie said, and he saw they’d reached the concrete steps leading underground to her train.

“Oh, right!” He shook off his stupor, hearing sleigh bells. No, wait. That was a bell ringer on the corner. She grinned up at him. “Thanks for the coffee. It was great.”

He nodded. “My pleasure. We’ll have to…”

Her eyes sparkled prettily. “Do it again?” Snowflakes dusted her hat and covered her long eyelashes. Man, she was a beautiful woman and attractive in so many ways.

He smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“After Christmas?” she asked, like she was daring him to believe what she did about this whole time loop deal. He didn’t. How could he?

But he didn’t totally disbelieve her either. “Let’s call it a date.”

She winked. “ First , we’ll have to get there.”

Braden’s soul filled with understanding.

Get to Christmas, right.