Christmas Eve Love Story

Twenty-Five

On the ninth Christmas Eve

Fa-la-la—!

Annie nabbed her cell phone, her heart pounding. She checked her contacts first. Yes. Braden Tate. Thank goodness. She opened her notes app and there it was, as plain as day, their “Make it to Christmas” plan. Nice. Today, they were going to put it into action.

Annie climbed out of bed, and Leo dropped down onto the floor. This time, he was not making a mess of his breakfast—or stealing her name tag. There was no time for fun and games this morning, or for coffee with Jane either, regrettably. She’d have her second cup at Lawson’s.

Annie entered the break room, unwinding her scarf. Braden turned from the coffee machine holding his full mug. They were alone. Good. They’d have a moment to talk.

“Oh, hey!” He squinted at her and read her name tag. “Annie.”

Oh, no, no, no, no, and no. She undid a few coat buttons. “Braden?”

He snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah . You’re the lady who does the windows.”

Annie’s heart landed at her feet. But soon his lips crept into a grin. He looked like a mischievous kid, bursting with a secret. “Sorry.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Just playing.”

“That was so not funny.” She lightly shoved his arm, and coffee splattered out of his mug—spraying against his shirt. “Oh no!”

He dabbed at the stain with some napkins. “Guess I kind of deserved that, huh?”

“That was very naughty,” she teased.

“Aw, come on, Annie. You know I’m mostly nice.”

“So you do remember?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he returned in low tones. “This time, totally. I also recall our plan.” They’d agreed at the Blue Dot that there had to be a way to stop those boys. They just needed to be more authoritative. He tossed the soiled napkins in a waste can. “Lunchtime in the first-floor stockroom?” He glanced toward the open door as Santa passed by in the hall. Kira and Patrice followed him, chatting lightly.

“I’ll be there,” she said, so relieved he’d only been joking about his memory lapse. Also slightly miffed.

“Great,” he said. “So will I.” He winked, and all was forgiven. Not forgotten though. Her skin still tingled all over from his sexy smile.

***

By the time Braden found Annie at a back table in the stockroom, she’d already wrapped three pretend gifts, meant for placing under the tree. She’d borrowed boxes and wrapping paper from her coworkers at the gift-wrapping station, along with some colorful bows. Annie owned tons of tape and scissors of all kinds. She cut another long swath of wrapping paper meant for an empty shirt box as Braden joined her at the table.

He set his lunch bag at his elbow. “How can I help?”

She nodded toward the end of the table. “Maybe stuff those stockings?”

“What. Now?”

Annie giggled at his confused look. “Those aren’t the ones currently hanging in the display. They’re replacements. Instead of stuffing those others last-minute, we’ll just exchange them for this loaded pair. We’ll have all the changes ready to go for our Christmas Morning display and, after preventing that window disaster, we’ll swap everything out.”

Braden tapped his temple. “Good thinking.” He spotted the open container of packing material Annie had set on a stool beside them. “Want me to fill the bottoms first?”

“That would be great,” she said. “Maybe you can add a few small gifts and fake candies on top.”

He stared around the room. “Where do I find those?”

Annie pointed behind him. “In those blue bins on the middle shelf.”

“Got it.” He loaded both stockings with packing material, and she laid the shirt box on the long piece of wrapping paper she’d cut. This particular gift wrap was made of foil and apparently had a mind of its own. Each time she brought the two flaps together to tape them, one of them sprang back before she could get the tape in place. “Argh.” She lunged for the paper again, and Braden reached forward.

“Here,” he said, grabbing a roll of tape. “Why don’t you hold that down and I’ll tape it?”

“Thanks, Braden.” She pressed the edges of the wrapping paper together so one side slightly overlapped the other, and he leaned closer, laying a piece of tape across the fold. Suddenly, they were very close, his handsome face so near hers. All thoughts of Santa and those rascally boys went out the window, and all she could focus on was Braden and his dreamy smile.

“No problem,” he said, but he appeared just as lost in her eyes as she was in his. “Annie,” he said huskily, “we are going to get to Christmas.”

“Hope so,” she said, hoping so many things. Like that—when they got out of this time loop—Braden would look at her half as longingly as he did now.

“Let’s think positive, hmm?”

***

“That’s a negative, Mike,” Braden said through his two-way radio, when his boss asked about sending reinforcements to the salesfloor. “We’ve got this covered.” Dylan and Marcus were young kids, and there were only two of them. He and Annie didn’t need an army to thwart their dastardly deed, just a good game plan, and they had one.

Also, he and Annie were slightly worried about involving others in their efforts. The onus for getting out of this time loop seemed to be on them. If they couldn’t fix things on their own, even their best-laid plans might not work. Braden had asked Mike about Lou manning the door because he suspected trouble, but he couldn’t seriously tell him about the time loop. Braden couldn’t risk getting fired. He needed his job as much as Annie needed hers. Braden balled his fist around his security whistle, and Annie stood beside him.

“That whistle should get their attention,” she said. “Hopefully.”

Braden held his whistle near his mouth. “Fingers crossed.”

“No, Marcus! Let me!”

“Here comes trouble,” Braden whispered to Annie.

“I want my Robo-bot!” Marcus yelled.

“I want my rocket drone!” Dylan said, darting past him.

Their mom followed, wearing a horrified frown. “Dylan! Marcus!”

Braden blew two short blasts on his whistle, startling several shoppers. He addressed the kids. “You two! Slow down! No running in the store.”

“Yoo-hoo, boys!” Annie bounced up and down on her heels, waving her arms above her head. “Walk, please!”

But it was like the kids didn’t even hear them. Dylan scowled at Marcus when he latched on to his coat. “Let me go, Marcus!” he cried, wiggling out of his brother’s hold and dashing forward.

“Me first!” Marcus hollered, chasing after Dylan.

“Unbelievable,” Braden groused as they advanced at full steam. He shot to the left and the right, cupping his palms toward the zigzagging minions.

“You won’t get anything ,” their mom shouted, “if you don’t—”

“ Stop! ” Braden and Annie yelped. Ugh. Marcus slammed into Dylan, who ducked beneath Branden’s arm. Braden reached for Dylan’s coat—and Marcus’s—but they slid from his grasp like slippery eels.

***

On the tenth Christmas Eve

Fa-la—!

Annie hurried into the elevator at Lawson’s, after—naturally—arriving late for work. Several sales associates crammed into the elevator with her, but she was the only one still wearing a coat. So they’d clearly gotten in earlier.

“Hey, Annie!” Braden.

She ripped off her too-hot hat. “Oh hi.” She craned her neck, peeking around the few people who stood in between them. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Ah, but I saw you.” Plus, he remembers! Clearly. Yay. The shimmer in his eyes gave it away.

“We, uh”—she licked her lips—“should probably talk.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Upstairs.”

The others on the elevator pretended not to notice their conversation, but it was evident they were listening.

“I’ve got an idea!” Annie said. She removed her scarf and tucked it in her bag.

“Great,” Braden said. “Me too.”

Though they’d spent time at the Blue Dot war-gaming the scenario with Dylan and Marcus, neither had arrived at a satisfactory solution for preventing the window disaster. They’d parted agreeing to sleep on it, and Annie had woken up with an idea. Apparently, so had he.

The older man in front of Annie pivoted her way. “Would you like to—” He motioned toward Braden.

“Oh, no,” she said, noting the elevator was nearly to the third floor. “But thanks!” Good thing she was standing far away from Braden too and not ogling his duty belt. It helped that they were surrounded by a crowd. No chance of overly intimate innuendos in here! Still. She remembered landing on top of him and his rock-hard—everything. She scurried out of the elevator before she could think too much about that.

“Annie,” Braden said, sidling up beside her. “I’ve got bad news.”

“What?” Panic gripped her. What could be worse than being stuck in Christmas Eve again?

“All that work we did yesterday at lunch?” He frowned as they walked toward the break room. “It’s been undone. I checked the stockroom first thing.”

Well, what did she expect? Miracles?

“It’s all right,” he assured her. “We can redo everything today.”

They entered the break room together and she whispered, “Which would be great if we could actually change out that window.” Yesterday, there hadn’t been time. She and Braden had decided there was no going halfway with the swap to Christmas Morning. Besides adding loaded stockings and wrapped presents, there were other augmentations they intended to make to pull the new display together, and it was all or nothing. Their “Christmas Morning” window had to be complete, and positively perfect, if it was the key to breaking out of this time loop, and both of them thought it was.

Braden gestured toward the coffee machine, and she made herself a cup. “You know what I think?” he said. “I think we should seal off that section of the store entirely.”

Annie finished making her coffee and took a sip. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. But only for a short time. It is Christmas Eve. We can’t block customers’ access to merchandise.”

Braden fixed a coffee for himself. “We don’t really have to block any merchandise, maybe just the aisle fronting the window?”

“Yes.” Annie smiled at their instant mind meld. “And I know exactly how.”

At a little past two, Braden set up the bright-yellow warning cones while Annie quickly swabbed the aisle in front of her window with the mop and rolling bucket she’d gotten from the janitor’s closet. Signs stating “Danger, Wet Floor” in both English and Spanish adhered to each cone. She dumped the mop in the bucket, and it plunged down to the bottom. “There,” she said, resting on its handle. “Done.”

Braden took the bucket and mop from her. “I’ll put these away.” He glanced toward the escalators. “You go grab those Christmas tree lights.”

She frowned at the tree in the window. Its lights had—of course—gone out once again, even though she and Braden had replaced them so many times. “You’re right. We’ll have to contend with re-dressing the tree at least.” If they were lucky, that would be the only fix they’d have to tackle, so they could get right on creating their Christmas Morning display.

Annie emerged from the second-floor stockroom holding her package of lights, and Patrice stopped her in Juniors. “Annie,” she said, “we need to meet.”

“I know, Patrice,” Annie said, walking toward the escalators. “I really do!”

“Hey!” Kira shouted when Annie breezed past her, setting her mannequin off balance. Kira steadied the mannequin torso in her hands. “Where’s the blaze?”

“I’m trying to douse those flames!” Annie cried, hurrying away.

But noooo! She was too late.

Dylan and Marcus bolted toward her window display.

“Boys!” their mom called. “Get back here! That sign says wet—flooorrrr!”

“Santa, Santa!” Dylan yelped, scooting past his brother. “Wait for me!” Santa turned by his workshop just in time to see the whole grisly scene unfold. Same time as Annie.

“You won’t get anything,” the panicked mom wailed, “if you don’t—”

“ Stop! ” Braden shouted, racing toward them. He skidded on the slick floor, holding out his hands. Dylan slipped too, but Marcus fell first, stumbling forward into Dylan as their mom reached for Marcus’s hood. Both boys burst through the retractable belt, and everything went down, down, down .

***

On the eleventh Christmas Eve

Fa!

“Annie,” Braden told her in the stockroom, “tonight’s going to be the night we break through. I can feel it. I mean, the third time’s the charm, right?” They’d already wrapped all the packages, and Braden had stuffed the stockings. Next, they had to ready the fake snow they aimed to fashion into Santa’s footprints.

Annie took a bite of her peanut butter sandwich and set it down. “That would be phenomenal.” If only she could believe it—in her heart. This seemingly endless rat-wheel of a day just kept turning around and around. At least she had the joy of getting to know her neighbors and experiencing Braden’s sweet support. But how long could she count on that to continue? The man wasn’t made of steel, nor was he any saint. He was human just like she was, and capable of cracking under pressure. She just hoped they’d break out of this time loop before it came to that.

“You know what I think?” Braden asked her. “I think maybe we haven’t taken the right tack. Maybe we should be catching flies with honey instead of vinegar.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “Maybe if we give Dylan and Marcus the benefit of the doubt, they’ll live up to our expectations—instead of bringing everything down, down, down ?”

“By talking to them, you mean, before two thirty?”

Braden nodded. “And their mom.”

“Well.” Annie heaved a sigh. “We can try it? But Braden?”

He met her eyes. “Hmm?”

“I’d feel a whole lot better if we had a backup plan. Maybe like the one we came up with last night at the Blue Dot?”

“Agreed.” He set his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “So, here’s what I think we should do.”

When Dylan and Marcus entered the store with their mom, Annie and Braden were ready to great them. “Good afternoon,” Braden said brightly, walking toward the family. He cast an eye at Lou dutifully watching the door. “Bet you’re here to do a little shopping?”

“We are.” The kids’ mom smiled. “I have to pick up a few things, then I’m taking my boys to see Santa.”

“How fun!” Annie said from beside Braden. “Santa loves chatting with nice little boys.”

The mom riffled her kids’ heads. “That would be these two.”

Okay. Deep breaths, Annie. Honey. Not vinegar.

Dylan beamed up at Annie in a deceptively angelic way. “We’re always good.” He glanced at his brother. “Aren’t we, Marcus?”

Marcus concurred with a toothy grin. “Uh-huh!”

Annie’s smile pinched. “That’s great to hear.”

Let’s hope that holds.

Braden winked at the kids. “Santa’s going to count on that.”

Yeah, so are we.

But unfortunately…

“I want my Robo-bot!” Marcus shouted.

“Santa! Santa!” Dylan cried. “Wait for me!”

“Wait!” Annie shouted, jumping in front of Dylan. She and Braden had barricaded the front window with mounds of linen sets. Each soft package contained a big, fluffy comforter and bedsheets, and they’d used several of these stacked like building blocks to form a protective wall sealing off the window.

Braden squatted low, trying to catch Marcus. But the kids slipped past them, bumbling into the linen packages and knocking them over, scattering them across the aisle. Several fell into the fake snow as the boys crashed down on the retractable belt, and down went the Christmas tree, shiny baubles and all.

Braden fumed under his breath, “Three strikes and I’m out .” So, this was it. This time loop with loopholes had finally taken its toll.

She turned to him, her heart hammering. “Wh-what did you say?” Ooh, her soul ached. Was he really given up on them now? In the stockroom earlier, he’d seem so upbeat, so positive. But that was before this most recent very negative turn.

“Three strikes, Annie.” He picked up the toy train engine and switched it off. “I couldn’t help you get it right the first time, or the second, or the third.” He handed her the train engine, and she took it. “It’s three days now we’ve been trying to start our ‘Make it to Christmas’ plan, and no dice. No matter what we do, we can’t seem to stop those boys. How long will this go on?” He raked a hand through his hair. “Forever?” As much as he seemed to like being around her, this was obviously getting to be too much. Annie had to put an end to this excruciating quandary. Heat welled in her eyes. If only she knew how.

The young mom took out her purse— again . “I’m so, so sorry,” she said, appearing precisely as chagrined as last time. “Look, whatever it costs—”

“Oh no”—Annie held up her free hand—“that’s not necessary. Lawson’s will cover the damage.” She eyed Braden, fretting over the damage this was doing to him. Maybe she’d been selfish to drag him into this whole thing. Would he have been better off living day after day in ignorant bliss?

Santa chatted with the boys, and Veronica Lawson came and went on Quinn’s arm, after hanging the two Christmas stockings back on the mantel. Veronica whispered to Quinn, “There’s something different about that window, isn’t there?” Yes! She noticed!

“Yeah,” Quinn retorted, “it’s trashed.”

Annie’s heart sank, but Veronica continued. “No, it’s not that.” She glanced over her shoulder. “It’s something else.” She scanned the fallen tree. “Were there candy canes on the tree before?”

“Not sure.” Quinn shrugged. “Those look like fake ones.”

Annie waited until Santa and the family left. “Maybe we should just do it,” she said, placing the wooden angels back on the mantel. “Go ahead and create that Christmas Morning display? Nothing else has worked, so why not go full throttle?”

He picked up the nutcracker pair and placed them beside the angels. “What? Tonight?” Braden checked his watch.

“No, I don’t think we have time, even if we skip the Blue Dot. Tomorrow though?” She gestured toward the toppled Christmas tree, and they went over to it. “Maybe there’s a way to get a jump on things. You know”—she shrugged—“get an even earlier start?”

“You mean sooner than at lunchtime?”

“Much sooner, yeah.” They lifted the Christmas tree into place, and several plastic Christmas tree balls fell from it, bouncing across the floor. Braden scooped some up while Annie corralled another runaway group. “Maybe we’ve been too slow on this, Braden.”

“How so?” He set his collection of colorful Christmas tree balls down in the cushiony chair, and Annie did the same.

“There we were talking about being proactive rather than reactive,” she said, “and yet—we’ve still been responding to Dylan and Marcus wreaking havoc with this window day after day.” Braden picked up Santa’s partially eaten cookie, along with the shatterproof plate, and the rest of the cookies and the fake glass of milk. He set them on the side table Annie righted. “What if we change things up?” she asked him. “Get to Lawson’s before nine o’clock so we can make all the tweaks before the day begins?”

She began removing the other ornaments from the tree so they could replace the faulty lights, and Braden helped her. “I get what you’re saying.” He paused, holding two shiny golden sleighs in his hands. “Maybe— just maybe , if the display starts out perfect, those boys won’t get a chance to wreck it, because karma will be on our side.”

She removed a small clutch of candy canes from the tree. “Didn’t know you believed in karma?” she asked with a hint of sass.

“Didn’t know I believed in time loops either.” He grinned, and her heart danced.

“Fair point. There’s just one problem.” She winced. “Getting in early seems to be an issue for me. In fact, I always run late.” He opened the ladder, stationing it by the tree, and Annie climbed up high to grab the last of the ornaments off its branches.

“Don’t worry,” he said as she passed him one trinket after another, and he deposited them in the chair and on the table. “I’ll spot you.” He backed up a step as Annie descended the ladder.

“Oh!” Her foot slipped, and he caught her by the waist.

“Steady there!”

Annie flushed. “ Sorry that keeps happening,” she said, although she really wasn’t.

Braden looked cutely caught out himself. “No problem.” He quickly let her go and cleared his throat. “So about tomorrow,” he continued when she reached the floor. “Now that I know what to do, I can get started holding down the fort until you come in.”

“Great. Sounds like a plan.” Her mind buzzed with thoughts of her many tasks ahead. “Maybe we should skip the Blue Dot tonight?” She darted a glance at the snowy evening. “I want to do some extra grocery shopping and plan out my tomorrow to the letter.”

“If you think that’s best. But, Annie”—he met her eyes—“can I still walk you to the subway?” She was touched that he still cared in spite of all she’d dragged him through. She didn’t know how much longer she could count on his goodwill to continue, realistically. He’d appeared very put out earlier. Now that he was in it with her though, it was hard to see how he could get out. There was only one answer. They had to push forward.

“I’d like that,” she said.

Once they’d fully restored the window, Santa paused on his way out the door. “Looking good, you two!” He adjusted his hat. “Just needs a little something.”

Annie wanted to make sure they got this right. “Can you give us another little hint?”

“Or a big one?” Braden added. “One that will help us complete this display?”

Santa smiled, and Annie thought she heard sleigh bells. “The answer,” he said, “is in your heart.”

Braden placed a hand on his chest. “My heart?”

“Not yours.” Santa shook his head and pointed to Annie. “In hers.”