Christmas Eve Love Story

Twenty

On the sixth Christmas Eve

Fa-la-la-la-la. La—!

Annie dashed through the employee entrance at Lawson’s, clocking in at 9:08 a.m. A few sales associates exited the elevators, but Santa and Braden were nowhere around. No matter. She’d see them later, as she had during every repeat of this day. Maybe Braden would even remember some of their conversation from yesterday, and—after having thought it over—would start believing her about the time loop? That would be amazing!

Careful, Annie. Don’t cling to false hope.

Amazing Agatha caught her eye, and she backed up a step. The doll sure was pricey, but Annie recalled what it was like being a kid and having your heart set on something. She’d seen a fancy snow globe at a friend’s house and had wanted one so badly. Her parents had said that maybe if she was good, Santa would bring one to her.

Sparkly snowflakes swirled around her, taking her back to that magical morning.

Nine-year-old Annie rushed into the living room, brown ringlets falling past her shoulders. Her parents were still sleeping, but their Christmas tree was all aglow, casting pretty ribbons of light across the darkened room. A new package was tucked beneath it. Annie squealed quietly and checked the tag.

To: Annie

From: Santa

She excitedly picked it up, holding it against her powder-blue bathrobe with puffy stitching. Her fluffy slippers matched and had silky blue bows on them. Annie stared at the hearth and grinned. Her stocking was loaded! A package of licorice whips and a giant candy cane poked out of the top of it. She dropped down onto the carpet to tackle her present first, pulling it into her lap and greedily ripping off the red ribbon. The wrapping paper had reindeer on it and wasn’t the pattern her parents used. The elves had to have made it.

She bubbled with excitement as she tore the packaging apart. She didn’t care what her friend, Amy, said. She still believed in Santa. He had to be real. She pulled the lid off the box and removed the extra tissue paper tucked inside. A shiny glass globe glinted up at her. Annie’s heart pounded as she carefully dug her fingers into the box. Santa and his reindeer team were in a snowy white yard with a stand of tiny pine trees behind them. She held the snow globe up to her face and peered closer. Sweet! A candy-cane-striped North Pole stood by Santa’s sleigh, and a sign in front of him said: Believe .

Annie shut her eyes and hugged the snow globe close. “I do believe, I do.” Happiness washed over her, along with a sense of calm. She opened her eyes and kissed the snow globe. “I’m keeping you forever.” She shook it up and down, and sheer magic happened. Baby snowflakes skittered everywhere, rising and falling in gentle twirls toward the ground. A metal tab brushed her pinky finger, and Annie turned the snow globe over, holding it carefully. There was a wind-up key in the bottom! It played music. She giggled and cranked the key.

The music box played a familiar tune. Its tinkling bells sounded like fairies dancing.

“It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.”

Annie grinned from ear to ear.

“That was a very good year.”

Annie blinked and turned to Santa beside her. Wait. They stood facing her Christmas tree window display. Annie brought her hand to her mouth. How had she gotten here? Had she been that caught up in her reverie? She gaped at Santa. “Did I—walk here from the toy section?”

Santa nodded. “You did, indeed.” He brushed a few snowflakes off his overcoat with his white glove. “Though you seemed to be distracted.”

Distracted? Right. She was lucky she hadn’t bumped into anything—or anyone. Hang on. Annie caught her breath. “Santa?”

“Hmm?”

“What was it you said about that being a good year?”

“Your ninth year, of course.” He seemed very matter of fact about it.

Annie’s pulse raced. “How… How did you know I was thinking about that?”

He heaved a ho ho ho . “Who do you think brought you the snow globe?”

Okay. Full stop. This was looney tunes.

I have to be dreaming.

“Yes, but!”—Santa held up a finger—“Sometimes dreams come true.”

Now, he can hear what I’m thinking?

Panic gripped her and held on tight.

“Not always,” Santa answered. He tapped his temple. “But sometimes I get vibes.”

Annie’s mouth fell open.

Okay, don’t freak, Annie.

This isn’t really happening.

“Vibes?”

Santa spread open his hands, explaining. “Like shortwave radio?”

She had no clue what he was talking about. That sounded old school for sure. She undid the brass buttons on her coat, shrugging out of it while shifting her shoulder bag from one side to the other. “Who are you?” she asked on a gasp.

“I think you know-ho-ho.” He smiled softly and tilted his head. His Santa cap pom-pom swished to the side.

Annie clicked her tongue. “There’s no such thing as—”

“—Santa?” Santa’s lips turned down in a frown, taking his heavy whiskers with them. “Says who?”

Annie gripped her coat firmly. The strap of her shoulder bag too. “Why, pretty much everyone over the age of eight.”

Santa winked. “You held on for a while.”

“Well, of course,” Annie babbled. “I mean, wait.” She lowered her voice. “How are you doing this?”

Santa gestured toward her window display. “We all make a bit of magic in our own way. Take your windows, for example. Each one is special, its own little world.”

Annie’s heart pounded. “That’s what I think too.”

Santa nodded. “And this world keeps getting better.”

Annie got that part. “But will it ever be good enough?”

Santa peered at her. He was a stout man, and a little shorter than she was. “I think you’ll know”—he tapped the side of his cherrylike nose—“when that moment happens.”

Her heart leapt with hope. “So it will happen?”

“Oh yes.” He acted so certain, and she badly wanted to believe him.

“And Veronica Lawson?”

He tugged on his coat lapels, speaking authoritatively, “She’ll be very impressed.”

Braden walked past them, heading for his post at the main entrance. He stopped and stared at Annie.

“Braden.” She smiled. “Hi.”

“Hello”—he read her name tag—“Annie.”

Nooo. “I think we might have met before?” she replied. So disheartening.

“Have we?” He seemed to search his brain. “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry,” he said, but clearly, he was lying to avoid hurting her feelings. “Sure. Of course! I remember meeting you. At the—holiday party? Did we chat there?”

Annie shrugged. “Maybe?”

Braden studied her window display. “Oh yeah, right!” He snapped his fingers. “You do the windows!”

Disappointment weighed her down like a heavy wet blanket. Braden didn’t remember their conversation? About the time loop? Anything? “Ah yeah, that’s me.”

He grinned approvingly. “Great job with those.” His eyes fell on the note for Santa. “I see you don’t miss a trick.”

“Ha!” Neither do you, since you helped me .

This was hopeless. Would Braden ever remember meeting her before?

She watched him stroll away, her head pounding.

Santa leaned toward her. “Give it time.”

The morning seemed to drag with a series of rote repetitions. Neatening her salesfloor displays, helping out at various registers, responding to customer inquiries by ushering them to the relevant section of the store. When Annie finally reached her lunch break, she felt all out of time —and patience. She’d been in this time loop for six days now and had made very little progress. Only baby steps toward changing up the day, and those small changes never seemed to matter, because when she woke up the following morning it was always Christmas Eve again. When she’d talked with Santa by her front window, he’d hinted she needed to work some magic of her own to move forward.

Awesome advice.

But how?

If she knew that, she’d be enjoying Christmas Day right now, instead of being stuck here at Lawson’s Finest. Annie pulled her lunch bag from the break room refrigerator as Kira walked in to grab some coffee. “Oh hey, Annie!” Kira’s eyes brightened. She dropped a cartridge in the coffee machine and pressed a button. It whined with life, caffeinated aromas filling the air. “Guess you’ll be getting good news today.” She winked at Annie. “And maybe so will I.”

Annie shut the refrigerator door. “Hope so!” She just wouldn’t bet on it. Kira left with her coffee and Annie fixed herself a cup, sitting at the long center table. She tended to eat later than most of the staff, so she often had her lunch alone. She dumped her peanut butter sandwich out of her bag and stared at it glumly. She wasn’t hungry, but she needed the fuel to get her through the rest of the day. This day, especially.

Her phone sat on the table in front of her. She strummed her fingers across its screen, tapping open her text app with her thumbs and starting a message to Tina.

Wish we could talk.

No. Wrong.

Miss you and I’m sorry.

Better, but not quite.

“Hey, Annie.” Her chin jerked up. Braden!

“Oh, hi.”

He strolled into the break room, his muscles flexing beneath his nicely fitted shirt. Annie’s heart skipped a beat at his lopsided grin. “Nice seeing you again.” He opened the refrigerator, extracting a water bottle and a white paper sack. The sack was three times the size of the small brown bag that had held her sandwich. He shut the fridge and peered over his shoulder. “Sorry about earlier. I’m usually pretty good with a face, if not a name.”

And still, he’d completely forgotten hers.

Annie’s heart twisted, but she told herself not to be silly. Just because she was becoming attached to Braden, that didn’t mean he was caring anything at all about her. He clearly didn’t know her from Adam. If only she could change that. Help him understand and remember.

He pulled out a chair across from hers and gestured to the table. “Mind if I sit?”

Annie pushed back her hair. “No, please. Go right ahead.” She flipped over her phone so it lay face-down on the table and unwrapped her peanut butter sandwich. He stared at it.

“PBJ, huh?” He uncapped his water bottle and took a swig.

“Nope, just the peanut butter part.”

He shrugged mildly. “Whatever suits.” Braden pulled a long package from his bag and unwrapped a giant Italian sub. He also took out a bag of chips and a big chocolate chip cookie covered in plastic wrap. He stared at her little lunch compared to his and chomped into his sub. Annie smelled oregano and salami. Probably pastrami too, and a hint of olive oil and vinegar… Her stomach rumbled.

His food looked really good —she glanced at her whole-wheat sandwich bread with a slathering of organic peanut butter inside it—although her lunch was healthy enough. She picked up her sandwich and took a bite. It was fine, and it would hold her until later when she wanted that jelly donut, assuming she and Braden would go to the Blue Dot again. She hoped so. That was one of her favorite parts of this day.

Braden put down his sub and opened his chips. “Like your pin.” He pointed to the holly wreath decoration on her vest. “Very Christmassy.”

She was not saying he wore his uniform very well this time. “Thanks, Braden.”

“Bet you’re ready for the time off, like I am. Even if only for a day.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to Christmas.” Really, really looking forward, and hoping to get there.

He narrowed his eyes. “You know, it’s funny,” he said. “I have this odd, persistent feeling I know you.”

“Ha, yeah. I know what you mean.” So much more than you know.

“You didn’t grow up in Philly, by chance?”

How could she tell him so that he’d believe? “No, Red Bank, New Jersey.”

“Oh yeah!” He grinned. “I’ve been there. Cool town.” Santa walked by in the hall, and Braden blinked. “That’s really so weird.”

“What is?” she asked, sipping from her coffee.

“Sometimes when I see that guy,” Braden said, “I get this really strange feeling.”

Annie placed her coffee cup on the table. “Like nostalgia or something?”

Braden thought on this, studying the ceiling. He took a sip of water. “Possibly something like that,” he said, not appearing convinced.

“But everyone knows there’s no such thing as Santa.”

“Some say you’re never too old to believe.”

“That’s what I’ve heard too.”

Braden blanched and pushed back in his chair, bracing his hands against the table. “Wh-what did you just say?” He relaxed his stance and leaned forward, whispering across the table. “Annie, level with me. Have we had this conversation before?”

This was her chance. “Actually, yes,” she said in hushed tones, “I’m sure we have.”

His eyes flashed with incredulity. “Hang on”—he raked both hands through his hair—“you’re not joking.”

Annie stared at Braden. Do it, do it now . “Braden,” she said softly, “I have something to tell you, and I want you to keep an open mind.”

He looked at her askance. “How far open?”

“Er. Pretty far? Like wide open. The Grand Canyon. The Hoover Dam.”

“Okay, that’s pretty wide.”