Page 13 of Christmas By Lamplight
Richard Walsh, whose law office had anchored Main Street for twenty years, stood. “Walsh & Partners will donate five thousand. Consider it an investment in our community.”
And just like that, the crowd came alive. People pulled out wallets, wrote checks, and promised donations. Parents donated what they could. Mrs. Snyder’s bridge club friends each wrote checks for five hundred. Teenagers Venmoed from their phones.
As the video spread online—Tanner Blake unmasked, apologizing, reading to sick children—donations started flooding into their GoFundMe website. They came from all over—people watching the livestream, former Hollydale residents who’d moved away, and people from neighboring towns who’d heard the story. And then there were the comments on the livestream, which were overwhelmingly supportive.
This is redemption done right.
* * *
He’s actually doing something.
Within two hours, they’d raised eighteen thousand dollars in immediate donations, with another ten thousand in pledges over the next six months. As the last of the event guests filtered through the exits, Shannon ran the numbers three times on her phone. “We’re two thousand short of our goal.”
“I’ve got it.” Tanner pulled out his phone and made a transfer right there. “That’s the hospital fundraiser covered.”
The reporter caught it all: the unmasking, the reading, the spontaneous fundraising, and Tanner’s donation. She did a quick interview with him. “How does it feel to turn your Christmas around?”
He smiled, tired but sincere. “Charity is the best Christmas gift anyone could ask for.”
The reporter left with her footage and a promise to run the story on the morning news.
By nine-thirty, Carrie, Shannon, and Tanner returned to the shop.
“Tanner, you did it,” Carrie said. “You saved their fundraiser.”
“You did it,” he said, “This was all your event.”
“You’re the one who put your career on the line.”
“My career was already on the line.” He ran a hand through his hair. “At least now the children won’t pay the price.”
Shannon’s phone buzzed. She looked at it, eyes widening. “Oh my gosh! Carrie. Look.”
She held out her phone. A new video was already trending with the full story. Tanner unmasked, apologizing, finishing the reading, and donating his own money. The headline: “Bad Santa Becomes Real Santa: Tanner Blake Redeems Himself at Small Town Charity Event.”
Comments were pouring in:
This is what real apologies look like.
* * *
He didn’t have to do this, but he did anyway.
* * *
The way he talked to those children . . . that’s the real him.
The original, uncut video was surfacing. The truth was getting out.
Tanner’s phone started ringing. He looked at the screen and went pale. “It’s my agent.”
He stepped outside to take it. Carrie and Shannon watched through the window as he paced, talked, and listened.
When he came back in, his expression was unreadable.
“I’ve got a potential film offer,” he said. “They want me in LA in four days for a meeting.”
“That’s amazing!” Shannon said. “Right? That’s amazing?”
