Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Rebecca stretched and rubbed the small of her back.
The last few days had been tiring. The Christmas party was in full swing as she helped herself to a cup of black coffee from the big urn.
Laughter and music flowed from the dining room into the kitchen but Rebecca wasn't tempted to join in the festivities.
All she wanted to do was get this mess cleaned up and collapse on Maggie's couch with a glass of wine.
She felt small and selfish, wishing the day was over, but the Christmas spirit had somehow escaped her this year.
Being unable to find someone to play Santa had been the last straw.
She'd gritted her teeth and rented the last suit to be had anywhere in town, determined not to let her misery intrude on the celebration.
“Aren't you going to have anything to eat dear?” Mary Havens asked, coming into the kitchen just as Rebecca started to scrape plates.
“No, I'm really not very hungry,” Rebecca replied forcing a smile.
“You really should come and join the fun. The idea of having forty's music was perfect. You should see some of those old codgers 'cutting the rug’,” Mary laughed. “I never thought I'd see the day. Mr. Jackson just tried to dip the widow Clark. Ha, they almost landed up in the punch bowl.”
Rebecca couldn't contain her amusement as Mary hurried back into the other room. She giggled to herself imagining the portly widow held up in Ray Jackson's spindly arms. Sighing she hurried on with her work.
A local Girl Scout Troop volunteered to help clean up, but as yet they hadn't arrived. It couldn't be soon enough as far as she was concerned. With their help and a little luck she would have the senior center locked up and be one her way by seven.
Rebecca pushed the question of why she was in such a hurry to get to Maggie's out of her mind.
It had absolutely nothing to do with Mason she told herself.
Besides, at the rate things were going, he'd be gone when she got there and it was just as well.
He'd left a dozen messages on her machine, all of which she'd ignored.
His deep voice had grown more frustrated with each attempt to reach her and the last message was not the voice of anyone she wanted to see in the near future.
A small shudder wracked her body thinking of the threatening tone he'd used when he tried to calmly explain to her voicemail how childish he considered her behavior and if he didn't hear from her in the next twenty four hours she might not have the opportunity to say anything at all.
Rebecca took this growled remark to mean that call would be the last one he'd make and it appeared she was right as there hadn't been a message since.
Her hands actually shook when she pushed the button of her cellphone last night, but the only message was from Maggie reminding her to come by as soon as she finished today, and to tell the truth she was looking forward to a little female companionship.
Thanks to Mason she’d been on edge for weeks now and she was tired of it.
If this was love, she could learn to do without it.
The uncertainty, the sexual frustration, the heartache and worrying were all taking their toll.
Mason sent her flowers and candy, but that only made her more angry.
Did he think he could buy his way out of this one?
Not hardly. She had no intention of tying herself to a man who not only didn't trust her, but was a bossy tyrant besides.
About one more “Rebecca” spoken it that intimidating tone of voice and she promised herself she'd punch him right in the nose.
The sound of excited chatter pulled her back to the present and she turned to let her helpers in the back door.
Seven girls from Troop Thirty-Seven entered, giggling and full of Christmas excitement.
Rebecca looked around the cluttered kitchen and the stack of dirty dishes and sagged in relief.
Thank goodness the cavalry has arrived she thought smiling.
“If you girls want to hang up your coats in the other room, I'd sure appreciate the help cleaning up.”
“Sure Miss Moran,” Stacy Jacobs answered. “Sorry we’re a little late getting here. I had to wait for my dad to take my grandparents home before I could get the van and gather up the other girls. Has Santa Claus arrived yet?” she asked with a wink, blue eyes twinkling.
At seventeen Stacy was the obvious leader of the group. Her sparkling personality and pretty appearance made her a favorite around the small community and she was always ready to lend a hand at the center.
“Not yet,” Rebecca responded with a grin. “But now that you’re all here I'm sure he won't be long. I'll just see what's keeping him.”
Rebecca sauntered off through the dining room, pausing here and there to chat, unobtrusively heading towards the storeroom where her Santa suit was hidden.
She'd dressed for the part in knee-high black suede boots and a jade green calf length dress that had a cinched waist but a very full skirt.
Hopefully, if she gathered the dress up and stuffed it into her furry red costume pants it would give her added fullness around the middle.
Her hair was pulled back in a gold clip that could easily be used to gather it into a mass under her hat.
Rebecca had just put her hand on the doorknob to the deserted storage room when a boisterous “HO, HO, HO, MERRY CHRISTMAS,” stopped her cold. Turning in surprise she looked across the room to see a man who looked so much like St. Nick she was almost fooled.
His Santa suit was a perfect fit and hid his identity effectively. Rebecca was so tired at this point, she didn't much care who the good-hearted soul who'd answered her prayers was. He portrayed Santa much better than she ever could and she smiled and went across the room to greet him.
“Well, look who's here,” she called making sure everyone's attention was on the big stranger. “How nice of you to stop in, Santa.”
“My pleasure. It does my heart good to see so many folks enjoying themselves on Christmas. Too many people are just too plain stubborn to admit to being lonely and spend the holiday alone.”
Rebecca eyes narrowed as she squinted across the small distance separating them.
The way the man pronounced the word stubborn sounded vaguely familiar but she pushed the thought out of her mind.
She noticed that the man towered over everyone in the room and it appeared his spectacles were slightly tinted, hiding his eyes.
Shrugging her shoulders Rebecca advanced with a firm step extending her hand.
After all, what did it really matter if she knew Santa’s identity or not?
The fact that he'd taken time out of his own holiday to brighten up their day made him special in her book.
“I'm very glad you could come,” she said, but when instead of simply taking her hand, he used it to pull her up against his side in a firm grip, she gulped.
His hold, though not painful, was unbreakable and she began to have second thoughts when she tried to gently disengage herself and couldn't move an inch.
“Has everyone been good this year?” his voice boomed across the room, taking the attention off Rebecca and back onto him.
“Shoot, can't be anything else at our age,” Ed called back sounding disgruntled and bringing a round of laughter from the crowd.
Santa shook with laughter too, bringing Rebecca even closer if that were possible.
Trying to smile, Rebecca refused to struggle with someone twice her size and alarm the seniors.
The best thing would be to divert their attention for a moment so she could get free.
Perspiration broke out on her forehead as she realized the man dressed up like Santa could be anyone, even a criminal.
“What have you brought us in your bag, Santa?” Rebecca spoke up, trying not to let fear alter her voice.
“If he's got what I want in that bag, I'll die a happy man,” Ray Jackson called out, winking at his widow friend and causing her to blush profusely.
“I'm not sure what you’re looking for, friend,” Santa responded with a chuckle and a wink, “But at your age you must have learned that when you want something you’re better off to get right to it.”
“Darn straight,” Ray shot back. “I like the way you think, Santa. Now where's that mistletoe got to.”
The hoots of laughter and good natured ribbing were enough of a distraction that Rebecca was able to bring her heeled boot down hard on Santa's instep, freeing her instantly.
“Oh Santa,” she cooed, backing away. “I'm so sorry; let me get you some refreshments while you hand out your packages.” A niggling suspicion began to form in her mind.
She felt instinctively that she knew this man but her panic at his refusal to release her had baffled her senses.
It'll come to me she thought as she hurried away to refill the punch bowl and add more cookies to the platters.
As she watched him circulate the room a little while later, Rebecca still felt a fissure of fear.
He talked and joked easily with the group and even danced a waltz with Mary.
Santa had handed out corsages to all the ladies and boutonnieres to the men.
Each person also received a gift certificate for dinner at a local restaurant.
Well, whoever he was he certainly wasn't cheap.