The thoughts of spending Christmas with your husband hours away is very sad but, days had turned to months, and here I was. Two days before Christmas, trying to decide what to do on Christmas by myself. My family understood, I was on assignment, and we’d talk by phone.
Yes, I knew it was not the same, but there was nothing I could do. Monty had made it safely out of the last gunfight with his Stepdad, but I hadn’t heard from him since yesterday morning. All of the sad Christmas songs I refuse to sing were echoing through my mind.
Then there was a delivery and at the door. It was a small package, very light. On it was a label which read, “Do Open Before Christmas!” While the kid in me was arguing with the detective in me whether or not to open a strange package, I got a text from Monty.
“Open it all ready Lottie! An no I’m not there.” Puzzled, but curious, I opened it. Inside was a Christmas red envelope with a Christmas green stamp. A yellow post it on top broke the Christmas shading with a handwritten note from Monty. “Take to the Fairmont Olympic immediately!”
Two unanswered calls, and five unresponsive text attempts later, I gave up, and drove to the Fairmont. I presented the red and green Christmas package to the Concierge desk. Without opening, he smiled, asked me to follow him, and we went into a private elevator.
It opened to the most beautiful Christmas tree I ever remember seeing, with my Mother standing beside it. Dad was carrying gifts to the tree. All of my family, including siblings, were there. I hugged them all, knowing Monty had done all of this.
After a few greetings I asked Mom where he was. She smiled sadly. “He isn’t here dear. He sent us the tickets, and had your Dad arrange the invitation to you. He said to tell you no one knows any of us are here, and your cover is safe.”
It was bittersweet. He had made Christmas happen for me, but it wouldn’t be the same with him miles away. I had changed for dinner, he had clothes bought and everything, and we were setting down to eat. Dad was saying Grace, and I was praying for the one Christmas gift I knew I wasn’t getting.
A familiar voice from behind me echoed the Amen when Dad was done. “Sorry love, there was a delay at baggage claim. You didn’t think I’d miss Christmas did you?” I hugged him, holding on to him even when he sat down. I’d ask him about the bruises on his face later. I was just glad to have my stamp collector home for Christmas!
Merry Christmas from The Cinderella Stamp Collector And PruittWrites!