The Magic of the Season

Sallie Mae Rollins stared at the calendar and chewed on a fingernail that was already painfully short. Seven weeks remained before Christmas. Seven short weeks was all she had to find enough money to buy presents for her son. The eight-year old reminded her each night that he was the only one in his class who didn't have video games.

"Mama, I wish you could see Bobby. He has your eyes," the slim brunette whispered into the empty room.

Ruth Woods was one of the few people who stood by Sallie during the roughest time of her life. Accused of embezzlement, her friends and co-workers backed away from their friendships, not wanting to have their names associated with hers. That she proclaimed her innocence from the beginning hadn't made any difference.

Within a week of her arrest, she found herself alone except for her mother. Two months later, she lost her mother to pneumonia. Even though her ex-employer dropped all charges, people remembered the accusations. She remained guilty to them despite a public admission from the company that the charges were an error. Their apology meant nothing to Sallie as she grieved for her mother and her life as it had been.

She sat at the old wooden table long after the sun went down, the only light in the room coming from the moon shining through the windows. With Bobby asleep, she had planned to bake his favorite cookies as a treat, but lacked the energy. Thinking of going to bed early, she instead heard her mother.

"I know the holiday season is rough, Sallie Mae, but I taught you that Christmas wasn't about the gifts. You're too strong to give in to the weakness that's threatening to take over. Look around at all you have, not at what you don't have."

The words stuck with Sallie as she mixed ingredients. Remembering the assorted containers of baked goods her mother kept in the freezer near the holidays, she doubled the recipe. While the cookies baked, she browsed through some of her mother's old magazines for simple recipes to try. Marking several pages to study later, she pulled the last tray of cookies out of the oven. An hour later, she was sound asleep.

Bobby woke early as always. Excited to see the ground covered with snow, he dressed in his normal jeans and shirt and ran into his mother's bedroom.

"Mom, I need my boots! It's snowing! Mom, wake up!"

Shaking the sleep from her head, she shivered.

"Bobby, did you play with the thermostat again?"

"You asked me that a bazillion million times before and I already always tell you no."

Sallie wanted to laugh at the indignant look on her son's face. Instead, she screeched when her foot touched the cold floor, bringing fits of laughter from him.

"Oh, you think touching the cold floor is funny?"

Sliding into her slippers, she ruffled his hair and smiled. She realized how fortunate she was to have him and vowed to push the dark mood away.

"That's odd. There should be heat," she mumbled, turning the old thermostat from the sixty-six degree setting to a warmer seventy, expecting to hear the familiar clicking when the furnace kicked in.

"I found my snow pants! Can I go out now?"

Bobby held the worn winter garment over his head. Intended to wear over regular pants, they added a layer of warmth from the cold and wet snow. Sallie didn't need the child to try them on to know they were too small for him. She didn't have a chance to make that point before he was wiggling around on the floor, trying to push his feet into the openings.

"Look how much you've grown! Why don't you take those off and I'll find something that fits?"

Thinking as she talked to her son, she remembered an old pair of heavy sweatpants tucked into the back of her closet. Left from her high school days, they had been a favorite, sporting the school mascot on the side.

"I have just the thing, Bobby. Wait here."

Finding the piece of clothing right where she expected to, Sallie tugged the pants from the shelf and turned around. Bobby slammed into her in the hall on his way to her room.

"Cool! I never had this kind before," he said, flopping onto the floor and pushing his foot inside the pants.

"Bobby, I think you'll want to take your jeans off first. These will keep you plenty warm and I don't think they'll fit over top your own pants."

Nodding, the child stood and did as she said, tossing his jeans toward his bedroom door. Sallie held his jacket and mittens and waited as he tried his boots on. She wasn't surprised when they didn't fit, either.

"Wear the boots you use for playing in the field," she said, adding boots to the never-ending list of items to replace.

While her son tromped through the yard, Sallie turned to the thermostat again. Her frustration built until she slammed her palm against the wall. Inheriting the old house from her mother meant she didn't have a mortgage and could manage on her factory salary—but just barely.

As she did so often when the topic was money, she thought of Bobby's father. Her five-year marriage to Damian Rollins ended when a train hit his old truck. She had no proof he ended his own life that night but she knew. He hated the small town they grew up in, hated the responsibilities of fatherhood, and hated the constraints of marriage. Most times the moody mechanic hated his wife, too. Of course, he hadn't bothered with life insurance, either.

"You can't quit now. I can't afford a new furnace," she whispered, brushing a tear from her cheek.

She slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Her head rested on her knees as she tried to gain control of herself before her son returned.

* * * *

With the house cooling down fast, she decided to spend the day at the mall where Bobby could run off more energy in the play area. He didn't equate the mall with spending money the way older kids did. They would be warm, though, and no one would question their presence if they stayed several hours. With only a few dollars in her wallet, she calculated the cost of a meal from the mall court, and then packed snacks into an oversized purse to save money.

Bobby's excitement proved he didn't understand the real reason for their outing. His happiness was important to the young mother. For his sake, she pushed thoughts of the furnace away, choosing to make the afternoon enjoyable, instead.

After a few quick reminders of the rules, Bobby joined the other children in the play area. Sallie Mae sat on a bench where she could watch him. Several parents lingered nearby, talking and laughing as if they knew each other. Sallie Mae tried to ignore them while keeping a close eye on her son.

"Whew! Who ever knew what a tough job Santa had?"

Confused by the man's comment, Sallie Mae remained silent.

"Ah, child, I see the puzzled look in your eyes. I'm an official Santa Claus here at the mall," he said after turning to face her.

"My son thinks Santa knows everything."

Sallie wanted to take the words back as soon as they left her mouth. Speaking to strangers was something she told her son was dangerous. Yet she herself had just done the same thing.

"He's right."

"I'm not a kid anymore. I stopped believing in that stuff a long time ago," Sallie said.

"You're a tough one, missy, but your wish will come true if you just believe enough."

"How do you know—"

"Santa does know everything."

The elderly man's eyes seemed to twinkle. He pulled a pocket watch from his vest that looked ancient. Engraved on the lid were a miniature sleigh and a single reindeer. A tiny red gemstone sparkled on the tip of the reindeer's nose. "Time to get back before Mrs. Claus sends out a search party."

Before she could react to the man's attempt at a joke, he was gone, leaving Sallie to wonder if she imagined his appearance.

"Mom, watch this!"

Bobby's voice brought her to her feet. She stood next to the railing where she could watch her son's antics. He eventually tired of the limited space and left the enclosure to join his mother.

"I'm starvin'!"

"Yelling won't earn you a snack, young man," she said in a stern voice. "I'm right next to you— not across the mall."

"Sorry," the boy mumbled. "I'm really really hungry, though."

"There's snacks and juice in the bag. Or we can go home if you're ready. I'm thinking we should camp out tonight. What do you think?"

"In the snow? No way," the boy replied.

"You just wait. I have the whole thing planned. You'll love it."

She hugged the boy but laughed when he pulled away. He allowed the gesture in private but not as often in public, claiming he was too old to have his mother hug him.

"Hugs are for babies," he said. "I'm eight. I'm not a baby."

"No, you're certainly not."

She listened to his chatter as they walked through the mall on their way to the parking area where they left their car. Bobby's attempts at running ahead ended after his mother rebuked him for the third time. Sallie crossed her fingers as she drove home. Maybe the furnace would be working. But the cold hit her as soon as she unlocked the door.

"Here's the plan. Do you remember where your camping equipment is?" His nod accompanied her last words. "Bring up the tent, OK? I'll get blankets and pillows."

She stripped the electric blanket and down comforter from her bed so she could take them into the living room. On the second trip, she filled her arms with pillows.

"It's heavy," Bobby mumbled from behind the tent he held.

Sallie hoped she remembered how to assemble the pieces. "You're doing a fantastic job."

Boosting her son's ego didn't make the house warmer, though, Sallie thought as her cold hands fumbled with the tent. A task she did easily in the summer took what seemed like forever. Eventually the canvas structure filled the living room.

"Mama, I'm cold."

Bobby stood next to the sofa. He wore gloves and a stocking cap along with his heavy winter jacket.

"I know, sweetie, but I need to find something for us to sit on. The floor will be hard."

Neither spoke for a moment. Just as Sallie Mae decided to use the sofa cushions, her son ran from the room. Loud noises coming from his bedroom worried her.

"Bobby, are you all right?"

Odd grunts and groans echoed down the hallway. "I need help!"

Panic filled the young mother. "Bobby, where—"

Her fear at what she would find turned to relief when she saw her son trying to push his mattress through his bedroom doorway.

"Using your mattress is a great idea and I bet we can get it into the living room together in no time," Sallie said.

She pushed and tugged until her son wiggled free. They pulled it down the hallway and placed it inside the tent. Sallie added a fleece blanket for comfort before putting the electric blanket on top.

"That will only take a couple of minutes to warm up. How about we find something we can take into the tent with us for dinner?"

Bobby jumped and threw his fist into the air in delight. He raced into the kitchen where together they packed a tray with sandwiches, brownies, chips, and grapes. She thought about making hot chocolate but wanted to get her son under the warm blanket so grabbed a few bottles of water from the pantry, instead. They would have to suffice, she told herself. Once inside the tent, she zipped the flap shut, hoping to keep some of the cold out while they slept. They would have a warm bed even if the house remained cold.

* * * *

She ignored the cold the next morning. Bobby complained but stopped after she bribed him with a cookie for breakfast. He ran down the driveway just in time to catch the bus to school. Sallie locked the door and drove to work without an answer for how to repair the furnace.

The morning dragged. Her co-workers talked about parties and shopping trips. Noon found Sallie in the break room surrounded by an assortment of workers who didn't know she existed. She listened to them sharing holiday plans and knew she would never receive an invitation from any of them.

"You look sadder than usual."

Lisa Branson slid her lunch bag onto the table across from Sallie Mae. Both women started at the factory the same time and had gone through training together. The tall redhead refused to hold Sallie's past against her. She believed everyone deserved a second chance.

"My furnace quit. I don't have the money for a new one. I can't even afford to have someone look at it to see what's wrong."

"Well, sitting here looking all down and defeated won't help. Let's see what we can come up with," Lisa said.

Different in both personalities and looks, the women's views complimented each other. They discussed options for the furnace until it was time to return to their workstations. Neither paid any attention to Maude Keller, the company secretary, sitting at the table behind them. The elderly woman always read while eating her lunch. She didn't seem to notice anyone or anything around her.

The afternoon went slower than the morning had for Sallie. Just before the end of the shift, Maude walked through the plant to hand-deliver the weekly paychecks—a practice she claimed gave her a way to keep in touch with the production staff.

"Hello, Sallie."

"Hi, Maude," Sallie replied.

"Are you ready for the holidays?" the secretary asked.

"Not exactly. Things have been rough this year."

Maude flipped through the stack of envelopes until she found the correct one.

"Have faith in the magic of the season."

Sallie Mae nodded at the woman's words. She waited to open the envelope until Maude moved on to the next employee. The holiday bonus she expected never materialized. A brief note attached to her paycheck wished her a Merry Christmas. A second note expressed the company's intent to cut her hours beginning the first of the year. That would reduce her full-time benefits to part-time status. Upset at the change, she didn't move when the bell sounded to end the shift. A shove from behind startled her, but when she whirled to face the offender, there was no one nearby.

"Go on home, Sallie Mae. Bobby will be there soon."

Her mother's voice filled Sallie's head. Wearing a faded jacket that barely kept her warm, she left without speaking to anyone. The drive home didn't take long, but she worried about Bobby. The house would be cold and she hadn't figured out how to get someone there to fix the furnace.

"I like baseball best. Do you like baseball?"

"I'm a football fan myself."

Sallie heard her son's voice as soon as she opened the door. Expecting a neighbor to respond, the strange voice shocked her. She ran toward the back of the house.

"Bobby!"

"Mom, I'm helpin'," the boy said from his position on the floor.

"Who are you? Why are you in my house? Bobby, you know better than to let strangers in—"

"He's fixin' the furnace."

"I have an order to repair your furnace."

Tools littered the floor around the furnace, evidence she hadn't noticed before. Bobby stood between the two adults, unaware of the fear his mother had for his safety.

"But I can't afford—"

"The bill is paid. Check with my employer . . ."

Mike watched as the young woman processed what he said. He didn't know anything except that she needed her furnace fixed.

"You could give me any number to call," she said.

"Or you could look at the truck parked out back and take the number from it. I'll wait."

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Sallie couldn't decide between believing the man or calling his bluff. Embarrassed she hadn't noticed the service truck, she chose to ignore him.

"Bobby, we're going into the kitchen. And don't argue."

The young boy began to speak but stopped. "I'll be back to help later, OK?"

"That's up to your mother."

Back in the kitchen, she slumped into a chair and massaged her temples. Sallie wanted to cry. Facing challenges wasn't new to her but the stress of the moment overwhelmed her. Besides Lisa, the only other person who spoke to her was Maude Keller, the office secretary. She always had a smile and a kind word. Everyone else in town seemed to remember the embezzlement charges but forgotten that she wasn't guilty.

"Mama, it's OK," Bobby whispered as his thin arms went around her. "Maybe Santa sent Mike to fix the furnace."

Thinking Santa brought the stranger was appropriate for the season. The innocence of her child put a lump in her throat.

"My teacher said Santa knows everything."

"Your teacher's smart. How would you like to watch a video on my bed while I talk to the repairman?"

Bobby's yell made her smile. Watching the television in her room was a rare treat for the youngster but Sallie didn't want him included in the conversation with the man pounding on her furnace. With her son settled, she went back to the utility room, still unsure how to handle the situation.

"Excuse me. We need to talk."

Sallie waited as he pulled his arms from inside her furnace. Muscles rippled along his back and shoulders, a point that embarrassed her to admit she noticed even when she was upset.

"I'm listening."

"I . . . um, ah, I . . ."

Mike waited for the petite brunette to continue. He understood her concern but he had a work order. He hoped they could agree soon so he could continue the job. The order came late in the day and listed as an emergency. All he knew was that someone paid a great deal of money to get the furnace fixed that day.

"You have to realize how shocking and distressing and frightening even it was for me to come home this afternoon to find a complete stranger standing in my house, laughing and talking with my eight-year old son as if they were long lost buddies, when I know for a fact I locked both of my doors when I left for work this morning and that I did not arrange for anyone to come inside my house, especially for anyone to come inside when I wasn't here to oversee anything the person did and to make sure my son was safe." The words ran together, completely opposite from the stuttering just moments before. She blushed and looked at the floor.

"But I didn't know I was causing any problems. I knocked and your son let me in when I told him why I was here. If you want to see the work order, I have a copy," he said, reaching into the black folder in his toolbox.

"No, that's not necessary."

"Your furnace is in decent shape, if that helps anything."

"We couldn't get it to work."

He motioned for her to follow him out of the utility room. She hesitated but her curiosity won. Neither spoke until he stopped in the hallway. She glanced at the wall, suddenly noticing the shape of the thermostat there.

"You put a new one up?"

"This model is programmable, so you can actually save money. I'll show you how to use it before I leave. The main problem is the furnace coil. I have one on the truck so that will be a simple fix." Mike waited to see what reaction he received before continuing. "With the new part, you should have heat real soon."

"Bobby said Santa sent you." The words escaped before she could stop them.

"Almost like a mysterious package?" he asked and grinned, hoping to get her to relax.

"He would love that analogy since he's into secrets and spies lately."

"When I was a kid, I wanted to fly," he said with a wink.

"I wanted to marry Prince Charming and have a beautiful house. Instead, I married the toad and ended up with this place." Sallie laughed, surprising Mike at her acceptance of the reality in her life. "You don't want to hear about all that, though. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

Mike nodded and watched her walk from the room before running out to his truck for the furnace part. Grabbing the box he needed, he jogged back inside to finish the repair. Her house felt warmer even before the furnace kicked in. Sallie had an idea the tall technician was the reason for the sudden flush heating her skin. Less than hour passed before the banging sounds stopped.