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The next day the brief snow storm has let up and we’re able to move out after a quick breakfast.
On the way, we stop off where we need to get a picture of the Holly Ribbon Tree in Jasper which we’re swinging right by it.
“I’ll go see what we need,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket so that I can take my picture.
“Okay. I’ve got to use the restroom.” He stomps off and I watch him, sad that he’s so emotionally blocked off. Sad that he’s intent on being alone for the rest of his life. He’s a good man, even if he tries to rile me up every time I turn around and drives me up the wall.
I walk inside and smile at the sign for the Holly Ribbon Tree but my smile fades when I see how long the line is and see some of the other couples in the line.
I groan and turn to talk to the woman behind me in line. “Why is everyone here today? It’s Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t they be home.”
“Yes and no,” she says, smiling, holding onto the hand of an adorable little girl all dressed up in her red and green Christmas dress. She smiles brightly then sucks her thumb into her mouth. “There’s a special surprise for each person today. And nobody knows what it is. It’s different for each person.”
“How weird,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I try different angles but there is just no way to get a good photo of the tree so I’m going to have to wait out the line.
Fifty minutes later, I’m still standing there and we’ve barely moved. I sigh and text “I’m still stuck in a really long line,” to Trace.
He sends me anokmeme.
I glance up and see that the line has moved another few yards and I’m now a bit closer to the head of the line and that darn picture.
We get closer and closer and then I’m in front of a man who’s dressed in a perfect Santa suit, his cheeks ruddy with laughter. He looks so perfect that I’m almost convinced that this is the real Santa.
“And Portia? How is your holiday this year?”
My brow furrows as I try to make out who’s behind the costume. Obviously I know them. “Who are you?” I ask.
He chuckles, holding his big belly and I swear, it’s not fake. “I’m Santa, of course.”
“Can I get a picture of the tree?”
“Absolutely.” He stands to the side and I get the picture and then he hands me a small, wrapped package. “Here you go and Merry Christmas!”
I step aside and find Trace staring at the guy, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“What’s going on?” I ask, confused.
“Who was that?”
“Nobody I know.”
“He acted like he knew you.”
“Nope. But I’ve got the picture.”
“And he gave you a present.”
“Yeah, weird right?”
“Yeah. What is it?”
I slip aside and open the package. But I grin when I see the present. “It’s nothing really. It’s just a little toy.”
“Why did he give you a toy that looks like a steer?”
“The course of true love is never easy. Steer into the storm and give him safe harbor.”
“What a weird gift.”
