Page 21 of Second Chances with St. Nick

The woman’s face erupted into a grin. “What, Nick? Yes, he was. Such a gorgeous man, in more way than one.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “You know, he dresses up as Santa every year for the children at the hospital.” She leaned on the counter and folded her hands together under her chin, like she was about to teach me algebra or impart some ancient wisdom. “Keeps himself to himself mostly, but he’s great with those kids. He got stuck on his way down there last night. He had to leave first thing. Needed to get there before the little ones woke up.”

My skin tingled as warmth spread within my chest. Nick hadn’t abandoned me. He hadn’t left me high and dry. He had agood reason to leave, and it was all I could do to stop myself from bouncing around reception in my boots. I turned to the woman. “Thank you so much, and Merry Christmas.”

She gave me a cheery wave as I picked up my bag. I stepped out into the startling white snow and stood outside the front of the Pines Lodge.

As people hurried to load suitcases and bags into the waiting vehicles, chaotic thoughts filled my brain. Thoughts of Mom wringing her hands when she found my bed empty. Thoughts of Cissy trying to keep her calm. And thoughts of everything that had happened in the last twelve hours.

Thoughts of Nick and I… together.

I had to get to him. Tell him how amazing last night was, tell himproperlyhow sorry I was for everything I’d done. Ask if we could still be friends… or maybe more.

I checked the clock on my phone. I had time. Christmas dinner wouldn’t be on the table for hours.

The winter moths that’d earlier stirred in my belly took off this time, fluttering like a blizzard. Why shouldn’t I take a chance on what Nick and I had? What we could be?

It was time to take my life back. Reach for what I really wanted. What I needed. Love and acceptance. And to stop letting other people keep me down.

With a deep breath and a leap of faith, I pulled on my hat and headed toward the bus descending the mountain.

11

ST. NICK AND SERENDIPITY

The hospital stood eerily quiet when I arrived. Nobody sat at the reception desk and no visitors waited in the hall. The only sounds were distant voices and squeals of laughter. The “whump” of my boots on the tiles echoed around the cavernous entryway, making me feel like an intruder.

Signage clearly wasn’t a priority, so I followed the noise, like a trail of breadcrumbs. As I moved further into the building, the giggles and shrieks grew louder, and I smiled. Laughter and joy had been missing in my life recently, and it was good to hear.

As the noise swelled to a crescendo, a sign on the wall read, “Ward B, Pediatrics.” With trembling hands, and blood roaring in my ears, I put down my bag and stepped around the corner.

In the center of the big room, surrounded by a gaggle of excited children, sat St. Nick. Santa Claus.

MyNick.

With his broad back to me, I recognized the strong curve of his shoulders, and the sandy blond hair tied into a ponytail at his nape. He let out a laugh as he scooped up a giggling child, propping them carefully into the seat next to him. The sound stole my heart.

I inched my way around the room at a snail’s pace—heart in my throat. I ached to get a clear glimpse of his face.

Nick wore the same velvet suit, but this time he had on a red hat. Its fur trim gently hugged his forehead, and a large sleigh bell hung heavily on the end. As he moved his head, I heard the softest sound of jingling—the sound I heard last night, before I left my room. I smiled. If I hadn’t heard it, I might never have ended up in the hallway under the laundry cart, needing rescuing.

Nick handed the child a present as I crept round the back of the room. The profile that greeted me today was crystal clear. In the light, with the help of my contacts, his beauty took my breath away.

I must’ve moved into his peripheral vision, because his eyes found mine like a sniper’s bullet. A tight breath caught in my throat and my cheeks burned. There was no mistaking the warmth in his face, and the divine grin growing on his lips.

As if the years had peeled away, Nick smiled at me as he had a thousand times before. But this time was different. New emotions glowed in his eyes, causing buds of hope to bloom in my heart. I leaned against the wall to support my shaky legs. I didn’t want to take his attention from the kids, so I sent him a little wave.

With a wink, Nick turned his attention back to the boy who opened his brightly wrapped present. There was no mistaking the kindness in his face—its familiar warmth. Warmth I’d often craved, lying alone after the angry words and rejection from my ex.

Regret weighed down on my chest like a boulder as I thought of the countless times I’d cursed myself for my actions at the Snowball all those years ago. The times I’d blamed myself for not going to find him. For not telling him how I really felt. How selfish and wrong I’d been.

After a few more minutes, a young girl unwrapped the last gift and had a final photo with Santa. Nick was alone now. When he stood and turned toward me, the look on his face made my heart backflip. The light in his eyes felt like the sun peeking out from behind a thick snow cloud. Like I was the only woman he ever wanted to see standing here against the wall.

Nick reached me, leaned in, laying a soft kiss on my cheek. “You came,” was all he said.

“You got down here so fast.”

He tipped his head to the side. “I had a head start. My reindeer are pretty fast.”

A smile lit up his face, and I had an urge to kiss the dimple on his cheek.

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