Page 44 of Christmas at the Ranch
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he assured her. “Probably a short delay.”
“It has to be something.” Samantha couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice. “A three-feet-by-three-feet metal box doesn’t dangle in midair for no reason.”
Drew pointed to the loudspeaker built into the wall.
“They’ll tell us,” he promised. “These things have strict safety protocols; nothing can go wrong.”
Samantha didn’t bring up the article she’d read about the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland. It was perfectly safeuntil one person almost got beheaded by a swashbuckling pirate and the ride had to be rerouted. Or the Tiki Twirl at Great America, where the riders get close to a giant flame. The flame was actually a halogen but it was so real, several riders complained of getting second-degree burns.
Instead, she fingered the arrowhead pendant and practiced the breathing she learned from a meditation app.
Finally, a voice came over the intercom. There was an electronic glitch that would be fixed momentarily.
“You see?” Drew said encouragingly. “We’ll be at the base in no time.”
“Would you tell me a story?” Samantha glanced up at Drew.
Drew rubbed his forehead.
“I have a better idea. You’re the writer, you tell me a story.” He thought for a moment. “Tell me the first time someone told you there wasn’t a Santa Claus.”
Samantha fiddled with the arrowhead pendant. She took a deep breath.
“It was a girl named Brittany in the fourth grade. Brittany had older sisters and was always whispering about tampons and sex-ed books. Two weeks before Christmas she announced that Santa Claus wasn’t real. She claimed she had proof and would bring it to school.
“I was up all night. Even if I suspected she might be right, I didn’t want to know. The next day in drama class, Brittany was about to take something out of her backpack. I stopped her and said she shouldn’t be Mary in the Christmas pageant anymore. It was an Episcopal school and the Christmas pageant was the most important event of the year. The drama teacher overheard and assigned the role to another girl.
“Brittany demanded to know why. I said that Jesus’s birth was a bigger miracle than Santa Claus. The audience would know if Brittany didn’t believe in it, and it would spoil the pageant,” Samantha finished. “Brittany zipped up her backpack and never said another word.”
There was a purring sound and the motor sprung to life. The gondola jumped forward, and then moved smoothly on its tracks.
They were both silent until they reached the base. The doors opened and Samantha had never been so happy to step outside. She fleetingly thought of a Sloane Parker book where Sloane is held hostage on a Russian submarine. When Sloane is freed, she slips off her six-inch Bottega Veneta stilettos because she’s been dreaming of feeling solid ground beneath her bare feet.
“Thank you for asking me to tell you a story,” Samantha ventured. “It helped keep my mind occupied.”
“It was a great story,” Drew complimented her. “It reminded me why I’ve always loved Christmas.” His eyes were soft and he had never looked so handsome. “It’s the one time of year when it’s all right to hang on to your dreams.”
Samantha’s phone buzzed as she entered her guest room.
“Samantha.” Charlie’s voice came down the line. “Arthur told me you’re going to be the maid of honor at his son’s wedding. He sounded thrilled.”
Samantha unwound her scarf. She didn’t want to talk about the wedding.
“I’m glad Arthur is happy.” She sat cross-legged on the bed. “Tell me about Socks. Is he homesick?”
“Socks and Emily’s parents’ dog, Molly, have grown quite fondof each other,” Charlie remarked. “They’re going to have a doggy date on New Year’s Eve.”
“A doggy date?” Samantha inquired.
She should follow more dog Instagram accounts. Doggy dating was probably a thing, with online dating sites and meetups at local dog parks.
“Emily’s mother bought them matching party hats. They’ll be in the den with TV dinner trays, watchingAll Dogs Go to HeavenandMarley & Me. At midnight, they’ll tear open a doggy piñata. Inside are dog treats shaped like champagne bottles.”
Samantha pictured Socks in a cone-shaped hat and black bow tie.
“Thank you for taking care of Socks,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t wait to see the photos.”
“You should be proud of yourself. You’re practically guaranteeing your next book contract,” Charlie reminded her. “Who knows, maybe next we’ll hear from the producer in Hollywood.”
