As usual, all right are held by Craig Bartlett and Snee-oosh. We just borrow them to make really interesting fan fic.
This is a continuation of a story I wrote last year called "Where are you Christmas" Not a lot of romance, but yet another good deed done by or favorite protagonist. You can probably get the just of it if you haven't read the first story. Enjoy and happy holidays!
"If I cannot bring you comfort, then at least I'll bring you home."
-"Closing of the Year" by Wendy and Lisa
Eleanor Shortman hated Christmas. She disliked the snow and the cold and the fact that everyone around her was full of joy and good cheer. Her classmates in her fancy private high school were counting down the days and making lists for items they demanded their parents get for them for the holidays.
She didn't like the lights, or the decorations or the trees, lit up with their bows and breakable ornaments, expensive heirlooms only brought out for a month once a year, because they perfectly matched the rest of the decorations. There was no room for hand-made ornaments or candy cane reindeers. Only the best, most exquisite items were allowed on the tree.
Mostly, she hated Santa Claus. Large, rotund man that children followed with almost a cult like fervor, promising them presents they would never get because their parents weren't privy to the secrets their children told the strange man in the white beard. She never got the chance to believe in the white bearded man, her mother had seen to that when she was younger. There was never any of that holiday cheer and joy in her household. Christmas was a commercial time when one had obligations to family for dinner and the children received presents because that 's what one did for the holidays. There was nothing magical about Christmas. The so- called Christmas miracle was for desperate uneducated people who didn't know any better.
And deep in her heart, sometimes Eleanor wished she could be one of those desperate, uneducated people. Because they were happy.
Mostly the young teen girl hated Christmas because it was the holiday that took her father away. When she was nine, her father had taken her to the cemetery to visit her great grandparents and had received a present himself in the form of a holiday memory. That night when they returned home, she huddled in her room listening to her parents argue. She didn't understand any of what they were arguing about and although it scared her, because her parent's never argued, she knew everything would be fine by the next day. Only it wasn't. Her father had moved out of their home before the new year and her parents were divorced by Valentine's Day. By Easter she had a new stepfather, one that was more like her mother than her father ever was. And together they perfected the picturesque family; beautiful, cold, uncaring, everything her life before the divorce hadn't been.
She was careful not to mention her father in front of her mother and stepfather. The mention of his name brought frowns of disapproval on their faces. He was no longer a part of their lives, and the unfortunate fact that she was half his was only a tiny smirch that they were trying to correct. She was told that he had left the States to go live in some god-forsaken underdeveloped country and the less said about him, the better.
So Eleanor grew up, the small part of her heart that kept her father's memory walled up tightly, keeping all would-be predators out. She became like all the other girls in her expensive school: cold, heartless, spoiled, mean. Never again would she have the one thing she truly wanted for Christmas, she didn't have the luxury of believe in Santa to even ask the man for a miracle, so why bother even trying?
The fourteen year old girl stomped down the street, trying to keep her legs warm. Halfway down the block, she realized it was a stupid move to flounce out of her grandparent's house in Hillwood, snapping to her mother when asked that she was going out and would be back later. The last time she'd been this way was when she was nine, and while sitting in the house texting her friend about how lame the season was, she felt this unexplainable urge to leave the falseness of the setting and visit the graves of her other grandparents.
She'd forgotten to take in the fact that it was freezing outside and she was wearing a dress. Wrapping her Caprini coat around her tighter and thanking whomever that it hadn't snowed this year, she quickened her steps towards the now looming archway.
Hillwood Cemetery
The frozen leaves crunched under her matching Caprini boots as she made her way towards the dual gravesite by memory alone. Halfway there, she heard the familiar sound of bottle rockets going off and hurried her steps hoping to see who was there.
Approaching the gravesite, she stopped, noticing a bundled figure kneeling in front of the stones, adjusting the red, white and blue streamers that adorned the site.
"..so help me Gertie, I don't know what to do." the soft feminine voice said. Eleanor took a couple more steps, leaving the three she was standing by and brought herself up to her full five foot four height.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice haughty. The figure stopped moving, then muttered something so soft, she couldn't hear it. An ungloved hand touched the stone with her great grandmother's name on it lovingly, then stood up turning to face her. Eleanor watched the woman suspiciously. Her navy blue pea coat was buttoned up tight, a pink scarf was wrapped around her neck and a pink stocking cap was jammed on her head, allowing the tendrils of blond hair to float about in the breeze. She gave the younger girl a searching look.
"Gertie used to call me Eleanor," the woman said. "Who are you?"
"Why? Didn't she know your name?" Eleanor asked, ignoring the woman's question.
"Oh, she knew my name." the woman answered. "It was just more fun to call me Eleanor. Used to ask me where the president was all the time. And dammed if I didn't tell her." She frowned at the teen girl's blank stare. "Eleanor Roosevelt? Wife of Franklin ? Thirty-second Present of the United States? Criminy, what do they teach you in school these days?"
"I know who he was," the young girl stated, insulted. "I'm just trying to figure out why my great grandmother would name you after a president's wife?"
The woman looked at her. "Why were you named after a president's wife?"
Eleanor blinked, shocked that the woman knew who she was. "How do you know who I am?"
The woman waved off her question. "Please, this is a small town. Everybody knows Gertie and Phil only had one grandchild and that grandchild only has one child. Relatively simple to figure out. "
Eleanor folded her arms, defiant. "Well, I'm glad my family can be the topic of many great discussions for your friends."
Again the woman brushed off her anger. "Don't even try to be insulted. I can promise you, you're family is not nearly as dysfunctional as some other ones I've known."
Before the teen could start up a good tirade, the woman turned back around, brushing off the bit of leaves on the top of the gravestones, and adjusting the rest of the decorations. Curious, Eleanor crept forward. Streamers, used bottle rockets, and Uncle Sam hats decorated the entire gravesite, contrasting sharply with the wreaths, bows and small Christmas trees placed lovingly on the other graves surrounding them.
"Why fourth of July?" Eleanor asked. The woman shrugged, picking up the used bottle rockets for disposal when she left the cemetery.
"Not sure. Gertie always had her holiday's mixed up. For a long while Thanksgiving was the Fourth of July. When she began getting older, Christmas became the Fourth of July." the woman laughed. "I think she just wanted to set off fireworks in the winter. That and she discovered deep fried turkey. So Christmas became the Fourth of July, with presents."
"So...what was the Fourth of July?" she asked, curious. The woman, pressed her fingers to the names, then stood up, brushing the dirt and leaves from her jeans.
"Groundhog day." she answered, walking away from the gravesite. Eleanor looked at her.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"Back this way. I figured you wanted to say something to your grandparents and I was going to let you."
"But..." she looked back at the gravesite, then to the blond woman walking off. "You aren't leaving, are you?"
The woman turned back to look at her. "Nope. I'm parked by the front gate. Say what you need , then if you want, meet me there."
Eleanor watched as the woman walked back towards the entrance, the silhouette of her bringing back memories of the last time she'd seen her, walking away on that snowy Christmas day years before, when her father had been given a Christmas memory.
She looked back at the gravesite, at the streamers and stone etched with words and numbers.
"What should I do?" she whispered to the stones, feeling slightly foolish that she was talking to an object. A moment later, she was running up the hill back towards the entrance of the cemetery.
As promised, the woman was standing next to a blue Mustang, her hands in her pockets watching some birds in a tree. Her gaze turned to the teen girl as she exited the cemetery.
"Finished already?"
Eleanor nodded. "I never met them."
The woman nodded to her car. "Well, get in young Eleanor. We'll go to Slaussen's and I'll buy you a hot chocolate and well get down to business."
"Business? What kind of business."
The woman smiled at the teen girl's confused expression. "I've been sent by Santa to give you a present."
"You do understand I don't believe in Santa Claus." Eleanor stated once they were in the warm establishment. The person behind the counter had smiled, handing over to hot chocolates complete with huge marshmallows. She looked around. "And why is this place open anyway? It's Christmas, nothing is ever open on Christmas."
"Because Mr. Slaussen is a traditionalist. It isn't about making money. After Christmas dinner and presents are opened, a large group of people will come in here for sundaes and hot chocolate and celebrate the holidays with close friends they haven't seen in a year. Presents will be exchanged, laughter and Christmas music will fill this entire shop. Mr. Slaussen himself will be in the middle of it, passing out candy canes and laughing with the crowd. Because he knows this time of the year isn't about presents, or commercialism. It's about family and friends, and getting together with a person you haven't seen in a year, and being able to pick right back up like they never left."
Eleanor snorted. "Yeah right. I don't know what time you grew up in but that is not what Christmas is about anymore."
The blond woman pulled off her hat, allowing her hair to fall around her shoulders. She looked straight at Eleanor. "Than what is Christmas about for you?"
She picked up her hot chocolate. "Absolutely nothing. It's just another day. But with presents."
She expected the woman to placate her, or show some pity. But instead she chuckled. "Damn, you are me years ago."
"Excuse me?"
"Listen girly, when I was your age, I was all about what I could get from my parents. They may have sucked as parents, but they gave great presents. Commercialism was king, I was raised with that in my household since I was born. It wasn't until years later that I realized that wasn't the way everyone celebrated. And sometimes, the best presents, don't cost anything at all."
Eleanor gave her bland stare. "You realize this is starting to sound like a Hallmark movie."
The woman laughed. "I know. Freaking sappy isn't it?" She took a drink from her mug, then set it down. "Okay, down to the reason I brought you here. "
"You mean the fact that you believe Santa Claus is real and he told you to come give me a present?"
"Look, you and I both know that Santa isn't real. But the idea of what he stands for is very real. He's just the face for the idea. Kind of like Caprini."
"The brand face. I get that." she agreed.
"Good. Now, without going into the specifics, because that would spoil the surprise, the task has fallen upon me to give you the one thing you want most in the world for Christmas."
The teen raised an eyebrow. "An original Xiu Xiu limited edition shoulder bag?"
"Do you know those things cost?" the woman exclaimed. "No. I'm sure your mother and stepfather have that covered."
"Who are you? And how do you know so much about me?" Eleanor exclaimed. She was beginning to get worried. "If you're trying to kidnap me, I swear, my mother will find you..."
The woman laughed. "Calm down, I swear I'm not trying to kidnap you. You are perfectly welcome to leave at any time. Nobody is going to stop you."
"Good." she said, but made no motion to leave. The woman took another drink of her hot chocolate, watching the young girl over the rim of her mug.
"If you did believe in Santa and accepted that he could do anything, what would you wish for?"
"World peace."
The blond rolled her eyes. "Lame, try again."
Eleanor took a dink of her chocolate, her mind whirling. The woman with her name had her thinking. Deep in her heart she knew that if there was a Santa Claus there would be only one thing she would ask for. Something her mother said would never happen. Something she wished for nightly for an entire year before giving up entirely. She put down her mug and stared at the older woman.
"This is pointless, because there's no such thing as Santa Claus or Christmas miracles. It's all made up to make poor saps part with their money quicker. "
"So, no peace on Earth, good will towards men? No comfort and joy?"
Eleanor shook her head. "Myths."
"Hmmm...that's sad." the woman mused. "Everyone should have at least some comfort and joy. At least one day a year." She threw a five on the table and slid out of her booth. Eleanor watched her.
"Where are you going?"
"Well, I look at it this way. You have one present coming, because no matter what you say, Santa knows your Christmas wish and he delivered it. In spades. So, we get back in the car and I drive you back towards your grandparents house where you can finish your Christmas celebration with your family, or I take you to your Christmas present."
She eyed the woman carefully. "If I do agree to go with you and don't like my Christmas present, you take me back the minute I say, deal?"
"Fair enough."
The teen grabbed her custom made scarf and slid out of the booth. "Let's go."
The woman nodded, then turned to wave at the elderly man sitting in the back of the store. "See you later Mr. Slaussen." she called out. The elderly man waved back, smiling brightly.
The two exited the store walking towards the Mustang. Eleanor slid into the still warm car and waited until the woman started it.
"Eleanor?"
The older woman glanced at her as she pulled out onto the empty streets.
"I'm nervous."
The woman smiled. "The best kind of presents are the ones that knock you sideways with their awesomeness."
They drove down the empty streets, neither of them talking. Eleanor looked out the windows, watching the houses pass by knowing that she was getting further and further away from the rich neighborhood her grandparents lived in and closer to the older, more run down part of town. A part she never had ventured in before. She turned her head to look at the older woman who was softly humming along with a holiday tune on the radio.
"Why?" she asked.
The woman finished humming the tune, then sighed. "Twice within my life, it's been within my power to help someone achieve their Christmas wish. Because I've been fortunate enough in my life to look into the eyes of something so pure and good, it's made me want to be a better person. Because I was such a bitch when I was younger, this is my way of trying to make amends."
She pulled up to a curb, parking the car and turning it off.
"We're here."
Eleanor looked out the window. In front of her stood an old worn building. Every light in the place was on and she could see a tree sparking through the window. Not a tree like she had at her house, but one with multiple colors, and different ornaments that didn't match and garland of different colors wrapped around it. It was beautiful.
On the front door was a wreath. The sign next to the door told her the name of this building was the Sunset Arms. No kids, pets ok.
She looked back at the woman. "What is this place?"
"Part of your present. When they were alive, Gertie and Phil ran a boarding house, this boarding house. The biggest bunch of oddballs and weirdoes I've ever seen in my life, and yet, they were a family." She got out of the car and walked around to the sidewalk. "They've all moved on, but every year they all get together here with their families to celebrate Christmas. And this year, everyone has something to celebrate.
Eleanor climbed out of the car, her eyes on the old building. She could see people in the window, hear laughter coming from above her. The older woman pulled her to the side and Eleanor narrowly missed getting hit by a water balloon. The older woman looked towards the roof at the grinning face of two men leaning over the edge.
"Kokoschka! Sid! So help me God you wait until I get up there you mess of freaks!" she yelled, waving her fist at the pair. Muttering under her breath about immature idiots, she led the teen up the steps to the front door. Again she pulled her to the side.
"Watch the animals." She said, opening the door. Immediately a mess of dogs, cats, and a pig came running out. Eleanor just stared as the menagerie of animals ran around the street. She followed the older woman into the house.
The house was bright, cheerful and warm. There was laughter, children running around, and generalized chaos. Eleanor had never seen a house like this. She didn't believe they existed. It was as if the entire house was alive.
A couple walked down the stair talking in quiet tones. The dark skinned man carried a plate full of hot dogs and ribs. Beside him, a petite Asian woman was rapidly speaking, her hands gesturing wildly. Both stopped when they saw the two by the door.
"Holy..."
"Language." the woman said, walking towards them. She looked at Eleanor, then at the older woman, her eyes filling with tears.
"You did it."
The blond woman smirked, pulling off her hat and taking Eleanor's coat. "Please, you seriously believed I couldn't?"
"Not after the Spumoni incident." the other woman said. She looked again at Eleanor. "Oh, Helga..."
"Suck it up Phebs. Where are they?"
"In the living room. In front of the tree." She turned and ran for the kitchen. The older woman Eleanor now knew as Helga thanks to the Asian woman looked down at her.
"This is it Eleanor. This is all I can do." She pointed towards the room where she'd seen the Christmas tree earlier. "In that room is your Christmas present. The one from Santa." She smiled. "Merry Christmas, Eleanor Shortman."
Eleanor looked up at the woman, then towards the entry way. There was no way she was getting what she wanted for Christmas, but to be in her great grandparent's house, on Christmas, there had to be something. A small part of her hoped and wished that is was true. She took a step towards the room. Then another, and another.
She stopped just inside the room, under the archway. the first thing she saw was the tree. Bright, cheerful, and completely not matching anything else in the room. The second was an elderly couple sitting on the couch talking to a couple she knew to be the Gumblethorpe's. Eleanor knew Rhonda and Thad, as they lived by her grandparents. Her mother didn't speak with them because she said Rhonda had married beneath herself.
The third was standing by the window, watching the elderly couple with a sad look in his eyes. Eleanor gasped. This was her Christmas present. The person by the window looked up at her gasp, the green eyes that were sad only a heartbeat ago changing to disbelief, then utter joy. He took a step forward as the room grew silent.
"Eleanor?"
"Daddy!" Eleanor raced across the room to her father, tears streaming from her eyes. He bent down throwing his arms around her and hugging her tightly, lifting her off her feet, sobbing into her hair. She had her arms wrapped around him, her legs wrapped around his waist, her face buried in his neck. Her father was home, he hadn't left her like her mother had said, hadn't forgotten about her, hadn't made a choice to leave her in her mother's care.
Finally he let her down, not letting go of his grip on her. He fell to his knees, his hands framing her tear streaked face, brushing back her now messed up light brown hair, his eyes taking in every inch of her.
"Oh my baby girl, how did you know I was back. Your mother said you didn't want to see me, how did you find this place? My God you've grown up so much. I'm so sorry Eleanor, I'm so sorry I left you."
The teen shook her head, throwing her arms around her father again, hugging him. "She told me you didn't love me anymore, didn't want me. "
"Oh baby, I'll never stop loving you." he sobbed.
The father and daughter in the middle of the living room were so wrapped up in each other, they didn't notice the silence surrounding them as friends and family watched the scene, tears in their eyes.
Finally Eleanor pulled away, wiping her eyes. "Where did you go? Mom said you left the States."
"I did." he admitted. "But I returned at the beginning of this year." He sniffed, then looked towards the couch where Rhonda sat red eyed, holding her husband's hand. Beside them sat the couple, both smiling and crying. He looked back at his daughter. "I left to find my parents." He climbed to his feet, still holding his daughter's hands.
"Eleanor, these are your grandparents, Stella and Miles Shortman. My parents."
Eleanor smiled brightly as the elderly couple stood up. Not only had she gotten her father back for Christmas, but she'd gotten another set of grandparents. She looked back up at him.
"I thought you said they were lost."
"They were, but I found them." He smiled at the couple, then back at his daughter. "Now I have everything I ever wanted for Christmas."
He led her over to them. The older man smiled down at her. "Hello Eleanor."
The teen threw her arms around him, hugging him. She moved an arm to hug her grandmother too.
The Gumblethorpe's vacated the couch as the Shortman's took it over, all four talking excitedly about everything at the same time.
Rhonda walked towards the sobbing Asian woman standing next to the blond. She leaned over kissing the blonde's cheek. The woman looked at her.
"No matter how tough you try to be," Rhonda said, before the woman could make a smart remark. "We all know the truth."
"Yep." the blond said. "That's me, one big marshmallow."
The day went by too fast. There were hot dogs, and pork chops, potato salad, cold slaw, strawberry shortcake. In short everything that should never be served on Christmas was on the table. It was the most unorthodox Christmas dinner she'd ever had and she loved it. She was talking to her grandparents when her phone rang. She pulled it out, sighing heavily at the name on the caller ID. She turned it on.
"Hello?"
"Where are you?" her mother's voice hissed in her ear. "We are preparing to leave and you have not returned yet."
"Celebrating Christmas." she replied, standing up and walking out into the hallway.
"That was what you were suppose to be doing here, young lady." her mother retorted over the phone. "It is very poor manners to leave in the middle of a function. Your grandparents were insulted by the manner in which you left this morning."
Eleanor rolled her eyes. "So I ruined your big pretence. Whatever mother."
"Where are you? Paul and I are coming right now to pick you up."
"With my grandparents."
There was a pause on the line, then her mother spoke again. "Eleanor, I am at your grandparents."
"My other grandparents."
"Don't be absurd, you have no other grandparents."
The teen snorted. "Fat lot you know. I think I'm staying here a while longer. The Gumblethorpe's can bring me home."
"You're with the Gumblethorpe's? What in the world would possess you to..." a gasp came over the line and the teen knew her mother knew. "Eleanor, who are you with?"
Eleanor looked up as her father walked out into the hallway, his smile faltering when he saw her face. She smirked, handing his her cell phone. "It's for you."
He sighed, taking the phone from her. "Hello Rachel. Yes, Eleanor is with me and my parents, thanks by the way, for telling my daughter I didn't want her anymore." He listened for a moment then spoke again. "No, I have no idea who brought her here, my bet's on Santa." He rolled his eyes. "Nope, if she wants to stay, I have no problem with it. I think I can remember where you live, I'll drop her off when she wants to go home."
He clicked the end button on the phone and returned it to her. She took the phone and returned it to her pocket, ignoring the ringing that had started up again.
"Do you want to go home baby?" he asked. She shook her head.
"Not for a long time."
His smile was pure happiness. Taking her hand, his brows creased in confusion. "Who did bring you here anyway?"
The teen shrugged. "A woman who called herself Eleanor. Said she was doing a favor for Santa."
Her father's eyes widened, and with his hand still around hers he walked into the kitchen where three women were wrapping up the leftovers.
"Phoebe." he called out to the Asian woman. "Where's Helga?"
The woman called Phoebe, shrugged. "Don't know. After you got your present, she left."
"Hey, we all about ready to head out to Slaussen's?" a voice shouted from the hallway. Around them the crowd of people murmured their agreement and walked around gathering their coats. Eleanor looked up at her father.
"She told Mr. Slaussen she'd see him later." she said. He smiled down at her.
"Well, how about it baby, would you like some ice cream and hot chocolate before going home?"
Eleanor smiled, wrapping her arms around her father's waist. What started out as being a miserable holiday turned into one that she would remember for the rest of her life. Comfort and joy.
"That sounds perfect daddy." she told him.