Our arrival at the food pantry and the book fair could not have been more perfect. Many children had already chosen their books. They were finding mischief and distracting their parents as the adults made their own selections from the tables in the section marked: Grown-ups. Taking inventory of the situation, I noticed game and coloring tables were still being set up as well as the cookie decorating stations. Handing my bags to Lisa, I stepped on to the circular rug in the center of the room with my elephant friend in hand.
“Good afternoon. Welcome to the Night Before Christmas book fair. How is everyone today?” I asked.
Some of the adults in the back smiled as they recognized me. Most of the children stared at me with a blank expression. I focused on the kids. “It’s a lovely autumn day, school is out for Thanksgiving, and there’s lots for everyone to do here. You can do better than that.” I smiled at them. “Who has a book today?”
A young girl, smallish, who Jess guessed was about six years old, raised her hand.
“Hello. Would you please hold up your book for me?”
The child complied.
“That’s a lovely book. Who else has a book?” I asked as my eyes searched the room. Slowly more and more children shared what they had found, I complimented them on their choices. “My name is Jess. I also have a book with me. “It’s called, “Stand Back!” Said The Elephant. “I’m Going To Sneeze!” It was written by Patricia Thomas, and Illustrated by Wallace Tripp. I would love to share it with you all, would that be alright?”
The small sea of heads nodded. Thank goodness. It was a chance to feel more comfortable if only for a few minutes, I loved it.
“I’m going to sit down here on this rug. If you all would come and join me we’ll have a story.”
When I finished reading one of the ladies working the book fair took my place announcing the game and coloring tables along with the cookie decorating stations were all ready and available for use. I thanked her for allowing me to interrupt. I thanked all the volunteers for their help. Wishing them a happy holiday I returned to Lisa and reached out for my bags.
“Feel better?” She asked.
“You know I do.” I said. “Thanks for not making a fuss. Time?”
“To go. You need to be at The Naked Ankle in ten.”
We made it to The Naked Ankle with moments to spare. Once I felt settled, I sent Lisa to the restaurant she mentioned earlier to make my apologies and have a break herself. These tours could be fun at times but they took a lot out of me. I didn’t have a daughter at home, missing me and bursting to talk. Lisa did. She was a single mother with an energetic eight year old at home named Phoebe. The lunch break would give them time to talk. I had done enough of these appearances to know I can handle the first hour or so on my own. Lisa knew how long I could meet with readers and sign books before I started looking for a bottle of water or anything of that nature.
I was thirty minutes into the signing before I noticed him. A man stood in the back of the store, he appeared to be in his early to mid twenties. His hair was dark blonde and cropped close like someone in the military. He was dressed in jeans and a Rolling Stones t-shirt. There was nothing remarkable about him. The cut of his clothing appeared slightly off leaving the impression it was out of date. He was not in line for a signature nor did he appear to be shopping. He seemed content to stand against the back wall and stare. I felt like I was not only being monitored or watched but studied. Actions were being noted, details being put to memory. The man never moved from the spot until I found him standing in the aisle blocking my route to the center of the store on my return from the Ladies’ Room a couple of hours later.
“Nice place.” He said.
“It is. They had a good turn out considering they planned their grand opening so close to Thanksgiving.” I agreed.
“I think it’s you. You really draw a crowd. It’s something I noticed about you, you know how to draw a crowd.”
“It’s the excitement of the new book really.” I responded, taking a step around him.
He shifted his stance blocking my exit. “No.” He said. “I think it’s you. Jess Windstrom. Beautiful, talented, a woman who cares for others, who likes kids and does great interviews." He looked in my eyes and said, "You never tell them everything do you?”
I did not answer.
“Do you?”
I did not move.
“If you only knew how much it hurts your mother.”
I looked at the stranger squarely. “I think you must have me confused with someone else, my mother’s dead. She’s been gone for a long time.”
“Is everything all right here?” Lisa asked as she rounded the corner.
“Yes. Edward Miller.” The young man said offering his hand. “I know, knew Jess’ mother.”
I looked at Mr. Miller and raised a brow, clearly he had a secret or two himself.
“I don’t know Jess very well.” He said, he studied me for a moment before turning back to Lisa. “She probably doesn’t even remember me. I saw her name on the posters in the window the other day and I wanted to stop by and say Hello.” Mr. Miller looked at me. “It was nice talkin’ to ya. Have a good day now.”
Lisa and I watched him leave the store.
“Who was that?” She asked.
“I don’t know, apparently he knew my mother.”
“You don’t look good.” Lisa took my hand and guided me to a chair in one of the store’s many reading areas. “Come sit down.”
“I’ve been sitting for hours.”
“A few more minutes won’t be that difficult then will it? I’ll come back for you when I have things wrapped up here.”
I sat back in the chair and closed my eyes enjoying the solitude.
“It’s time.”
The voice was coming from somewhere behind my right shoulder. “The only way out is through.”
I turned my head to find an employee squatting next to me, he continued speaking as he restocked the shelves he was facing with books.
“It’s time Jess. It’s your turn to get your Christmas wish. There's only one way to your happy ending. You have to go through.”
“Through what?”
“You have to write through your pain. You have to tell everyone, the truth.”
“I have no Christmas wish.”
“You did. It still sits in the box where you left it.”
“That was a long time ago.” I countered.
“An interesting thing about Christmas wishes, when a Christmas wish doesn’t come true it doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve it or you aren’t worthy or even that you aren’t ready. Sometimes we don’t get our wishes simply because it isn’t time yet.”
Good lord. I had to be hallucinating. Lisa was right, I should have eaten a full meal when I had the chance. How do I make it go away? If I let it say what it needs to it should leave. “What would I need to do in order to get my wish?”
“You're a talented writer. A real storyteller. The next story you write, the next time you take pen in hand you must write your story. The story of a love lost, grief, loneliness, a Christmas wish made and of the hope that could not be found. That and everything that comes after it. All the way to the day you are living when you get to what you think is the end of the story. When all has been lost that is when your wish will be found.”
“Tell my story…”
“Yes the truth. All of it. No cheating allowed.”
“If I don’t tell my story I don’t get my wish. I understand. Thanks for the info.”
He leaned over and whispered, “If you don’t tell your story you'll never finish writing another book.”
“Sorry?”
“You may start as many books as you like but you will never get past the numbers 3-6-5.”
365 pages. A little shorter than my usual book length but I can write a slightly shorter book. I thought. Then I thought about my life. What was working in it and what wasn’t. The people I care about and enjoy spending time with. A new question emerged. “What if I decide I don’t want my Christmas wish? What if too much time has passed? What if it’s just too late for those things?”
“You do have the option to forfeit your wish. There is something you're forgetting. Something older than the Christmas wish itself. A promise you made to someone you loved. If you choose to forfeit the wish you're also breaking a promise. Breaking promises isn’t your style kiddo.”
There was a roll deep within the pit of my stomach. I turned away from the stranger hoping I had not paled at his words, that nothing had reflected my uneasiness.
“All done.” Lisa announced as she approached.
Thank goodness.
“Ready to go?” She asked.
“I believe I am.” I looked at the man stocking shelves before
turning back to Lisa. “I think it’s time we met the next book
boyfriend.”
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