Santa Viking

  “Bill Gates?” Jessica said, turning to Erik. “You called Bill Gates on Henry’s behalf?”

  “No big deal,” he said dismissively.

  “It is a very big deal,” she asserted and hugged him tightly.

  And a tiny grain of trust began to build between them. Well, actually, it was more like a rock.

  He winked at her. “Hey, if a telephone call turns you on, I’ve got a really good dialing finger.” He jiggled his eyebrows at her.

  Lord, she loved it when he jiggled his eyebrows.

  Not that she’d tell him that.

  Not that he probably didn’t know it already.

  Oh, this was turning into the best Christmas ever. And it wasn’t over yet.

  Darlene and Kajeeta stood at the open front door, gaping at the limo which had just pulled to a stop. The two teenagers looked outside, then looked at each other, threw their hands up in the air, and squealed girlishly.

  Jessica felt like screaming, too.

  Fancy Nancy walked in the door. For real.

  “Shut your mouth, Jessie,” Erik advised her with a chuckle. He squeezed her shoulder before releasing her and stepping forward to welcome his guest.

  “Yo, Nance, glad you could come,” Erik said, kissing the star on the cheek. Nancy wore a skin-tight, red body suit with a wide silver belt and a fuzzy white fake-fur jacket. A dozen tiny gold Christmas bells tinkled from the many piercings in her ears as she moved. There was also a small gold loop in one eyebrow and on the tip of her tongue.

  “Which one of you is Kajeeta?” Nancy asked, homing in on the astonished black girl. “You and I have a lot to talk about, girlfriend.” Then, turning to Darlene, she added, “You must be Darlene. Great makeup!”

  The three headed into the living room where Willie stood like a frozen statue watching Nancy approach. The expression on his face couldn’t have been more delighted if he’d been handed a karate black belt on a silver platter. Jessica shuddered to think what questions he might ask the sexy rock singer/dancer. Julio put his hands in his pockets, striking a nonchalant pose, and Jessica was pretty sure he planned to hit on the celebrity.

  That left her and Erik to follow dumbly after the crowd. Henry was still chattering away on the phone with Bill Gates.

  Erik watched her watch Nancy with a great deal of amusement.

  “Glad you could make it,” Erik said to Nancy once he could get a word in edgewise.

  “Hey, man, I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. When you told me yesterday that you’d met your dream girl, I had to come take a look-see.”

  Erik draped a proprietary arm around Jessica’s waist.

  “Yeah, you done good, Erik,” Nancy said teasingly, giving Jessica a sweeping appraisal. “Maybe too good. Maybe I should introduce her to my chauffeur. He’s studying to be an actor.”

  Erik stiffened beside her.

  Nancy hooted with laughter and tapped Erik on the chin with one of her long black, rhinestone studded fingernails. “Gotcha, good buddy!” She told Jessica then, “This guy of yours is the best bodyguard I ever hired. Did you know that Brad Pitt has been trying to convince him for years to take a job as his body double, but he refuses to move to the West Coast? Maybe you can talk some sense into him, honey.”

  Jessica was too flabbergasted by that news to respond.

  “So where’s this famous fruitcake?” Nancy asked Erik.

  Everyone started to laugh, but then a car horn blew outside.

  What next? Jessica mouthed to Erik.

  “Damned if I know,” he replied, peering out the window. Immediately, he exclaimed, “Oh, my God!”

  “What’s the matter?” Jessica asked with concern.

  He gave her a rueful glance. “It’s my sister, Ellie. I told her to bring some Christmas presents.”

  “So?” He’d already told her of his fondness for his sister.

  “And my mother, too.”

  Oooh, boy!

  It was the most wonderful time of the year, for sure . . .

  Early that evening, Erik sat on the floor before the fire with his arm wrapped around Jessie. Their backs were propped against the sofa where Aunt Clara knitted away on an afghan—a Christmas present for him. Erik had to chuckle when he saw her latest creation for the first time. Brown and speckled with red and orange and green, it resembled a big slice of fruitcake.

  The kids sat around the room playing with their Christmas gifts. Although everyone was tired from the long day and the excitement, they were reluctant to go to bed and end what had been a perfect day for them all.

  Nancy had left soon after dinner, dog-tired from dancing with all the kids, stuffed from Julio’s Christmas feast, and ears ringing with all the questions. She’d brought little nonsense gifts for the orphans, which they would, no doubt, cherish for a lifetime.

  Before they’d gotten in the limo—the limo driver had joined them for Christmas dinner, too, and to Erik’s annoyance he was way too good-looking—Erik had heard Willie ask Nancy, “Do you think girls are attracted to karate guys?”

  “Oooh, yes!” Nancy cooed with a straight face. “In fact, I’m thinking about using some karate moves in my next music video.” That about made Willie’s day.

  And Julio had somehow managed an invitation from Nancy to go to Hollywood for a job next summer. He probably had a strategy mapped out already for taking the town by storm . . . or just taking it.

  A smiling Aunt Clara had made a gift of five fruitcakes to Nancy. She was struck speechless with gratitude.

  Erik’s mother and Ellie had approved heartily of Jessie. Well, why wouldn’t they? She was wonderful, although she’d appeared half-paralyzed by their exuberance. Ellie, especially, came on like gangbusters sometimes. His mother had started to ask Jessie whether she could help with wedding plans, but backed off, luckily, when she’d seen the sheer panic in Jessie’s eyes. He’d given his mom a silent signal that he’d talk to her later.

  Now he sat in the afterglow of the best Christmas he’d ever had, with the woman he loved in his arms. Later, after everyone else sacked out for the night, he and Jessie would talk. Then wild sex again. Or should they have wild sex, and then talk?

  “Why are you smirking?” Jessie tilted her head to gaze at him.

  In the background, he heard his cell phone going off. Probably his mother or Ellie. He’d told them to call when they arrived home safely.

  “I was not smirking. I’m just happy. Aren’t you?”

  She nodded, and he could see that she was getting weepy-eyed again. She did that a lot when unable to express her emotions. He was a little weepy-eyed himself.

  “Uncle Erik, it’s for you,” Henry called out. “Your secretary. She says it’s an emergency.”

  Uh-oh.

  All good times must come to an end . . .

  Jessica sat on the floor waiting for Erik to return. Little by little, he’d peeled away the armor of her distrust today. She’d already admitted to herself that she loved him, but she was beginning to actually believe he could love her, too . . . that they had a future together.

  When Erik came back a short time later, he’d already donned a jacket. With worry lining his voice, he said, “Come here, Jessie, I have to talk to you.”

  “What is it?” She jumped up in panic. “Has there been an accident? Your mother and sister?”

  “No, no,” he assured her quickly. “They’re fine, but there has been an accident. One of my employees was shot. Dead.” He swallowed with difficulty, then went on, “His partner’s badly wounded. I have to get back to Philadelphia right away.”

  “Of course,” she said, rushing to his side.

  Erik said all his good-byes to Aunt Clara and the kids, telling them he’d return as soon as possible. Then, a short time later, Erik was kissing her at the side of his car.

  “Wait here for me, Jessie,” he ordered gruffly.

  She nodded, unable to keep her cold hands from caressing his face and shoulders, memorizing him till he returned.
br />   “I’ll call you later tonight. I should be able to get back by tomorrow, but I’ll know better once I see what the situation is with this job. Okay?” He was nuzzling her neck and giving her little nibbling kisses the whole time he talked.

  Jessica tried to keep up a brave front. She was missing Erik before he even left.

  “I have to go,” he said finally, setting her away from him and opening the car door. “I love you, Jessie.”

  She started to say the words she knew he wanted to hear, but he put his fingertips over her lips to silence her. “No, I know that you love me. But I want you to say the words on your own, without the pressure of my leaving.”

  She nodded and watched through a screen of tears as Erik drove away.

  Love hurts . . .

  Two days later, Jessica hadn’t heard from Erik.

  The night he’d left, there’d been no call, even though he’d promised. And all the following day, she’d waited in vain.

  At first, his lack of communication had stunned her. There had to be an excuse.

  Then reality had sunk in.

  Despite Aunt Clara’s admonitions to trust in her heart, Jessica accepted the truth. Erik wasn’t coming back.

  By the third day after Christmas, Jessica had her shield of cynicism firmly in place again. And she began packing for her return to Chicago, with oaths of secrecy forced from Aunt Clara and the kids not to divulge her address or phone number if Erik should ever show up again. She suspected that a twinge of pity might strike Erik sometime in the future, if not for her, perhaps for the kids, and she didn’t want his damn pity. Or anything else from him, for that matter.

  So Jessica traveled back to Chicago alone, except for ten fruitcakes, which she intended to dump at the first roadside rest stop, and memories of candy canes and a Viking Santa that would stay with her forever.

  Some Christmas miracles weren’t intended to last.

  It was a sweet (almond creme) ending . . .

  On New Year’s Eve, Jessica stood in the kitchen of the Shangri-La Inn, arranging Roquefort-stuffed shrimp and crab canapes on an appetizer tray.

  The loud rendition of the Jewish folk dance “Hava Nagila” being played by the orchestra at the wedding reception rocked the entire building, but did nothing for her low spirits. The band soon moved on to a fast-paced number, and the shrill announcer encouraged everyone to get up and dance the Chicken. The Chicken? She clucked her tongue woefully. What was it about weddings that made grown people behave like imbeciles?

  She heard the whoosh of the swinging door from the dining room and grabbed for the meat tenderizing hammer in front of her. The lecherous bridegroom, Cecil Goldstein, had been making passes at her all afternoon, and she’d had about enough. As it was, she probably had bruises on her butt from all his pinches. Well, time to give the schnockered newlywed a lesson good and proper, where it really hurt.

  “Put your hands up, lady. This is a stick-out,” she heard behind her. And it wasn’t the bridegroom’s voice.

  Oh, my God! Jessica turned abruptly and dropped her meat mallet to the floor with a clunk of surprise.

  Santa Claus stood before her with a raised pistol. Madder than hell, if his flaring nostrils and steely eyes were any indication.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came for something that belongs to me. This is not a robbery,” he emphasized, parroting some words she’d said once at the Piggly Jiggly. “And get those hands back up, lady, or I’m gonna have to wipe you up.”

  A grin twitched the edges of her lips. She couldn’t help herself. Was that how silly she’d sounded? And Erik looked so comical standing there with a gun pointed in her face. A gun? “You shouldn’t aim a loaded gun at anyone. It is loaded, isn’t it?”

  “You betcha, babe,” he said, and squirted her in the face.

  Jessica laughed and wiped the moisture away while Erik pulled the beard and wig and hat off, dropping them to the floor. She saw immediately that his teasing words conflicted with the stone-cold fury stiffening his body, flattening his lips into a thin line.

  “Why didn’t you wait for me, Jessie? And why did you tell everyone to keep your whereabouts from me?” Erik was bristling with anger.

  “Why didn’t you call?”

  “Because I had to go to London to take over for Jerry and Mike.” His voice cracked at the end.

  “Oh,” she said, remembering the accident the night Erik had been called away. She wanted to reach out her arms in comfort, but Erik’s stony expression daunted her. “How is he . . . I mean, the one employee, did he survive?”

  “Jerry was buried three days ago, and Mike will recover,” he said grimly.

  Agitated, she brushed some stray curls off her forehead. “How did you find me?”

  “Julio,” he responded tersely.

  She waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, she took a deep breath and pressed forward. “Why?”

  “He said he’d never met two old fogies as dumb as us,” he informed her with a rueful shrug.

  She tried to smile, but her facial muscles froze.

  “You didn’t answer my question, Jessie. Why didn’t you wait?” He studied her so calmly and coldly that Jessica’s heart began to splinter.

  “When you didn’t call, I figured that . . . well, you changed your mind. That you didn’t really . . . ”

  “. . . . love you?” He shook his head sadly. “Dammit, Jessie, why couldn’t you have trusted me?”

  “But you didn’t call,” she accused.

  “I did call, Jessie.”

  She waited for an explanation, puzzled.

  “Did it ever occur to anyone to recharge the battery on the cell phone?”

  “You called?” she squeaked out.

  He nodded somberly.

  Jessica understood then how foolish she’d been. And she understood something else, too. This was good-bye. Erik hadn’t come to woo her back.

  Without trust, a relationship was nothing. And she’d proven they had nothing . . . no foundation to build on, not even the love she’d failed to profess to him. But Erik was an ethical man, and he would have felt a responsibility to explain himself.

  Could he possibly doubt her love?

  Of course. Hadn’t she doubted him, with even less reason?

  “Good luck, Jessie. I hope someday you’ll find what you want. I hope you’ll let yourself,” Erik said, about to turn and leave. “I really did love you.”

  Did? Jessica’s heart was beating a mile a minute. She had to do something, but things were happening too fast.

  “Since you’ve traveled all this way, wouldn’t you like to go back to my place? We could . . . ” At the disbelieving scowl on his face, her words trailed off.

  “For what?” he scoffed.

  “Fruitcake?” she proffered weakly. She was in such a panic she couldn’t think clearly.

  “No, thanks. I’ve had enough.”

  He’d had enough. Was there a double meaning there? Did he mean her, too?

  He stared at her for one long, excruciating moment, then spun on his heels.

  “I bought something for you,” she blurted out to his back as he walked stiffly toward the door. Then she put a palm over her mouth to stop herself from saying more.

  “You bought something for me?” He turned. “What?”

  Heat suffused her face. “Some peppermint oil,” she mumbled.

  His eyes widened. “What did you say?”

  She gulped. “I bought some damn peppermint warming oil. And, believe me, it took all my nerve to go into one of those places by myself. I was going to mail it to you with my address on the package. And then if you contacted me, I figured . . . ” She had to stop because tears flowed down her face, and she was blubbering.

  “You figured what?” He came back to stand in front of her.

  She closed her eyes for a minute to collect her nerve. “I figured it would mean that you might still love me then, like . . . like . . . ” She couldn’t go on.
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  “Say it, Jessie,” he insisted. His blue eyes locked with hers, no longer in anger or despair. There was hope there now.

  “ . . . like I love you,” she whispered.

  Erik let out a loud sigh of relief and roughly pulled her into his arms, kissing her face and neck as if he couldn’t get enough of her. “Geez, Jessie, I thought you were really going to let me go. You had me scared to death. I thought maybe I’d been wrong all along, that maybe you didn’t love me.”

  “I love you, Erik,” she said on a sob, framing his handsome face with two hands. He made her say it ten more times before he stopped grinning like a silly idiot.

  When the bridegroom stomped into the kitchen demanding to know what the hell was going on, she shoved the appetizer tray in his hands and announced, “I quit, Cecil.”

  “You can’t quit,” Cecil sputtered.

  “Wanna bet?” Erik stepped in.

  “What am I supposed to do with all this food?” he whined.

  “I’d suggest you serve it yourself. Unless you want me to tell your bride how you offended me,” she threatened.

  “How did he offend you?” Erik narrowed his eyes and began to advance on the cowering lech.

  “Never mind,” Jessica said and pulled on Erik’s arm, dropping her apron to the floor. Nothing else mattered now that she had Erik back. Nothing.

  “Don’t forget to serve the almond creme wedding cake,” she added. “It cost you five hundred dollars.”

  Cecil stammered incoherently. She wasn’t sure if it was over his being forced to serve at his own wedding, or the price tag she’d just quoted.

  Laughing, she and Erik emerged from the back exit of the restaurant moments later.

  Stopping abruptly, Erik asked, “So, Jessie, where’s this present of mine?”

  “In the trunk of my car,” she said, leaning her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder.