Isabella and Tyler trudged up to the Toy Shop. Surprisingly, it was open – but only until noon. They stepped through the entrance, into a large open space with vaulted ceilings and a massive stone fireplace on the far wall. An oversized red chair sat to the right of the fireplace. A huge Scottish pine stood tall in the corner. It was adorned with shiny ornaments and lights – and a multitude of brightly wrapped gifts beneath it.
Isabella’s gaze moved around the room, to the impressive staircase leading to two shops on the second-floor loft. The open landing, decorated in garland, overlooked the enchanting room they stood in. The overall effect was as magical as Christmas itself. The only thing missing was Santa. Isabella’s hope turned to disappointment as her gaze met the kind eyes of a small, gray-haired woman who appeared through the doors of the room below the loft.
“Oh my, we expect smiles here. Are you all right, dear?”
The woman was soft-spoken and approachable, and Isabella felt inexplicably tempted to tell her everything – how she was supposed to be married today, but instead would be alone on Thanksgiving. Except that, by accident, she was spending some of the morning with her new student and his dangerously attractive uncle. And now, there was no Santa Claus.
But she kept it all inside. “I’m fine,” Isabella replied, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“My name is Mary,” the woman said, taking Tyler by the hand. “You and Miss Stevens have a seat over here, while I go make some hot cocoa.”
Isabella was briefly flustered. She didn’t remember introducing herself to this woman. “We’re just waiting for someone,” she interjected.
“Yes, the handsome young man outside,” Mary acknowledged. “But he’ll be a little while.”
Intrigued despite her qualms, Isabella followed Mary and Tyler to the couch in front of the fireplace.
“When Santa visits, he likes to sit right here with a cup of hot chocolate.” Mary winked at Tyler and gave Isabella a knowing smile. “I’ll be back in a jiff.” She retreated through the double doors that Isabella assumed led to the kitchen.
Isabella sat quietly while Tyler stared up at the Christmas tree, his gaze glued to a sparkling Santa ornament hanging from a branch just above his head. There were no other visitors milling around, which was understandable, since it was Thanksgiving morning. Mary returned minutes later, placing a mug of cocoa in Tyler’s hands, following his eyes.
“Though Santa’s away today, he knows your wish for Christmas. If you’re extra good, Tyler…he’ll bring what you asked for.” She took the ornament from the tree. “For now, he’d want you to have this.” Tyler looked to Isabella for permission. Isabella nodded, giving the woman a guarded smile.
“You’ve been very kind, Mary. Thank you for the cocoa, but we should go.” Isabella stood, setting their cups down and taking Tyler’s hand. “Tell Mary thank you,” she reminded him.
They turned toward the entrance as the door opened and Jordan entered. Isabella’s eyes met his and she led Tyler to him. Tyler turned to wave shyly and murmur ‘thank you’ to Mary as Jordan took him outside. Isabella stayed behind for a moment, asking, “You know my name – have we met before?”
Mary smiled, rocking back on her heels. “We have a mutual friend, dear.”
Isabella was amused, thinking Mary was referring to ‘Santa’. But she turned her focus to her student now. “I know you mean well, but Tyler is…fragile,” she said. “I’m worried about your assurance he’d get his Christmas wish.” Isabella had told him herself that Santa would try his best, but Mary had practically guaranteed it, hadn’t she?
“Yes, his expectations may be great.” Mary seemed to read Isabella’s thoughts. “So, we’ll just have to make sure we don’t disappoint him.”
The older woman stayed in character as she continued. “What Tyler wants might seem out of reach. But, with lots of love – and a little Christmas magic sprinkled in – I’m convinced that anything is possible.” She reached under the tree. “This is for you,” she said, placing a small snow globe in the palm of Isabella’s hand. A glittering star floated freely amongst the white flakes inside its clear walls. Isabella studied Mary’s face, puzzled. The older woman smiled. “Some wishes are meant to come true.”
Minutes later, Isabella met Jordan and Tyler outside. The bemused look on her face prompted Jordan to ask, “You okay?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied, adding quickly, “It’s just a bit unsettling being up here…after yesterday.”
Jordan nodded and glanced back over his shoulder as he carried his nephew across the icy parking lot. He sat Tyler in the truck, then made his way back to Isabella, now seated in her car.
“I’ll follow you, to make sure you get home okay.”
Jordan shut the door on her slight protest, then got into his own truck. He tailed her as promised, and Isabella tried to take her mind off the strange thrill of it by centering her thoughts on Mary’s words. The fact that the older woman seemed to know what Tyler wanted for Christmas could only mean she’d read his letter. Which, of course, meant Mary had read her wish, as well. And explained how she knew her name.
Isabella pushed past her embarrassment by wondering instead what Tyler had asked for. She’d assumed it was the latest toy or gadget released this holiday season – but Mary had implied differently. And as Isabella parked in front of the hotel, she made a mental note to simply ask Tyler about it, if and when the opportunity presented itself.
Tyler needed to use the restroom, so he and Jordan followed Isabella up the stairs to her small efficiency apartment. She opened the door and a cloud of smoke greeted them. “Oh no!” she exclaimed. Jordan pushed past her, rushing inside to the kitchenette. Before Isabella could stop him, Tyler darted through the doorway, close on his uncle’s heels.
“Wow!” Tyler’s boyish delight over the burnt turkey disaster his uncle pulled from the small oven drew an unexpected roar of laughter – deep and sexy – from Jordan’s chest.
Isabella tried her best to be upset, but couldn’t stifle a smile at Tyler’s glee.
“You sure can’t cook,” the young boy cracked. He pointed to the charcoal mess in the pan on the counter, falling into a fit of giggles.
“I’m glad you both find my bad luck amusing,” Isabella said, pretending to be hurt.
“While you’ll go home to a lovely Thanksgiving dinner, I’ll be stuck here with a can of soup.”
She regretted the words instantly. They were meant as a joke, but Jordan seemed to pick up on the underlying truth, and Isabella avoided his scrutiny as she helped Tyler to the bathroom.
Minutes later, she busied herself disposing of the blackened turkey, all the while feeling Jordan’s burning stare. She nearly jumped when he finally spoke in a serious tone behind her.
“You know, my nephew won’t accept you staying here with a can of soup. You’ll have to join us now, for Thanksgiving dinner.”
Though Isabella wanted to refuse – wanted to curl up with a bottle of wine and drink to the fact that this day wasn’t meant for her – she knew Jordan was right. Tyler would not enjoy his Thanksgiving knowing his teacher didn’t have a proper meal. Reluctantly, she nodded in agreement. “I’ll bring something,” she offered.
“Not necessary,” Jordan replied. “Just bring yourself.”
Isabella’s heart stuttered at the unexpected gentleness in his words. She allowed herself to study him from beneath her lashes. Good Lord, he was handsome. And I am pathetic. Of course she knew she was simply reacting to the first gorgeous man with a kind word, after being so coldly jilted. And she also knew she should decline Jordan’s invitation, stay home. Her vulnerability was only intensified with the holiday season.