Page 23 of All I Want for Christmas Eve

Chapter Nine

Sitting in my office, I tap my fingers on a desk for a while. I considered texting my sister, like I usually do, but it seems like there is just too much to explain. So, I press the button to call her.

“Eve?” she responds with surprise.

“Hey, Mary.” I say, trying to put on an authoritative voice, despite the fact that she is the older sister. “There’s a bit of a problem, and I need you to fly home earlier than planned.”

“What’s going on? Are Mom and Dad okay?” she asks.

“Well, Mom is fine,” I answer slowly. “But you know how she confides in me, a little more than you guys, right?”

“Yes,” she responds. “Because you’re the only one who doesn’t freak out and spill her secrets and cause a major panic in the whole family.”

“Well, this time I’m freaking out and spilling her secrets,” I admit. “I just hope you can keep a lid on this and keep Clara from panicking. I know she’s under a lot of stress at the ballet company, and I am worried that if we tell her, she won’t be able to complete the rest of her performances.”

“Eve, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“Dad is just having some memory issues. He just got confused and wandered out in the snow a few times, in the middle of the night. Barefoot. Mom barely caught him in time.”

There’s a pause on the line and some noises as Mary shuffles around. “Memory issues? Like… Alzheimer’s or dementia?”

“I don’t know, but I need you to go home and find out. Maybe slap a GPS tracker on our father. Just see how things are with them and report back to me.”

“But Clara’s performing in L.A. soon,” she whines. “I already have the tickets. If I leave now, I won’t be there to support her.”

“Clara’s going to be performing for a very long time, but we have to take care of Dad’s healthnow.”

“Right,” Mary says. “So, what exactly happened?”

“Mom thinks he was going out to fix up the Christmas lights—you know he’s obsessed with improving the display every year. But he didn’t dress properly and he seemed confused. I would go home myself, but I’m just… dealing with a situation at the moment. Kind of a crazy situation. So, I can’t leave Alaska until I’ve sorted that all out.”

“What kind of situation?” Mary demands. “What could be more important than Dad?”

Here it is.

“Well, to be perfectly honest with you,” I say in a lowered voice, knowing fully well that I am about to get teased like crazy. “Santa’s Sleigh crashed in my backyard.”

Mary chuckles. “Really, Eve?”

“Yes. A few nights ago, I just looked out my window, and it was coming down in a blazing glory. I had to put on my boots and coat and run out to the scene of the crash.”

“Of… Santa’s sleigh?” she asks.

“Yes—but I pulled him out of the wreckage and he’s okay. A little injured, but I’m nursing him back to health.”

“You’re nursing… Santa back to health?” she asks.

“Stop joking around. You’re not taking this seriously, Mary.”

“Sorry,” she responds with confusion. “How did the sleigh crash, exactly? Was he under the influence? Did he have too many milk and cookies?”

“Mary! No. He wasn’t drinking—there was a storm.”

“Sorry. Uh. Did any, uh, presents get damaged in the sleigh crash?”

“Oh. I guess I’m not explaining myself properly. So, Santa’s Sleigh is the name of the small bush plane that crashed on my property. I mean, it’s not actually a sleigh.”

I can just imagine her nodding. “Right, because of course Santa would upgrade the technology of his present-delivery service to the twenty-first century. Who uses an actual sleigh anymore? Other than our parents, I guess.”

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