A MATCH MADE IN VEGAS Excerpt Copyright © All Rights Reserved
"Ho, ho, ho," a booming voice said from the street behind her. "Merry Christmas." She whirled about. "Santa," she exclaimed. "You scared me." "Perhaps that's because you haven't been a good girl this year," the large-bellied man in a red suit and full, shiny white beard said. From his lack of stature—and because her mother had warned her ahead of time—Alexa knew the portly character was her uncle, Claude. She put down her sack and rushed to him, hugging him soundly. "Oh, Santa, you know better than that. I'm Saint Alexa, in some circles." Her uncle's hearty laugh touched her deeply, giving her the first real taste of holiday spirit. The merry twinkle in his eyes was probably from the many Christmas lights on the eaves of the houses, but for a second, she almost saw her father behind the lush beard and mustache. "Well, if that's true, then I expect you'll be getting a very special gift beneath your tree tonight, my dear. Very special, indeed." She laughed and patted his shoulder. "So, you got my letter, then? You know what I want?" His white gloves squeezed her arm and, keeping in character, he said, "That I do, my girl. That I do. Now, I must be on my way. The rein-ponies are waiting." "Rein-ponies?" He just waved and kept walking. His black cowboy boots clicked on the sidewalk. Her mother had mentioned something about Claude rigging up his pony cart to resemble a sleigh. Her heart suddenly felt lighter than it had been in days; she picked up her bag and went inside. "Hey, everybody, I just bumped into a guy in a red suit outside. Who's got the number for our Neighborhood Watch?” Children's squeals and shouts echoed throughout the house as Maya, Luca, Gemilla and half a dozen second- and third-cousins stampeded to the windows to look for Santa. "Way to go, Alexa," Grace teased. "We were just gonna feed them." "Sorry," Alexa said, handing her bag of wrapped gifts to Gregor. In a soft voice, she asked, "How come you're not out helping with the sleigh?" "Nick and Mark volunteered so I could stay with MaryAnn," he answered in an equally quiet tone. Mark's here already? She glanced around and, sure enough, there was Braden standing between Luca and Maya peering out a window. And sitting on the sofa, as demurely as a princess, was Gregor's wife. She scooted forward slightly, looking interested in what the children were doing. "Wow. MaryAnn looks great," Alexa whispered. "Better than great. She looks like her old self." Gregor beamed as if Santa had handed him the best gift of all. "I know. I think she's going to make it. I really do." Alexa gave him a quick hug then dashed to the couch to talk to the woman she'd once considered a dear friend. They'd lost a lot of the closeness over the years—from work and pressures only MaryAnn truly understood, but Alexa was determined to be a better friend to MaryAnn in the future. "Welcome home, stranger," she said, sitting down. "Santa really has granted us our collective wish—to have you back, safe and sound." MaryAnn smiled tearfully. “Thank you, Alexa. It's good to be here. I honestly wasn't sure this day would ever happen, but Gregor promised me it would, and I guess that's what I needed—someone who really believed in me." They talked a bit longer, until Grace walked into the room and shook one of Alexa's sleigh bells to get everyone's attention. "Dinner is served," she said theatrically, then added, "Santa won't come until the last plate is in the dishwasher, so let's move it, people."
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Three hours later, after the mock sleigh rides with Santa Claude and the rein-ponies and a fairly well-orchestrated gift exchange, Mark sought out Alexa. He'd been watching her all evening and could tell she was starting to fade. "Kate, would you mind keeping an eye on Braden? I think I should walk your sister home. And congratulations on the new addition." “Thank you. We're really excited—even though Maya is convinced Santa—not Rob—is the father." They both laughed, and then she added, “Take your time. The kids are all immersed in their gifts. We won't be able to get out of here for hours." Mark double-checked on his son before seeking out Alexa. Indeed, Braden and Luca were shoulder-to-shoulder building some kind of futuristic war machine with plastic interlocking blocks. Alexa, he discovered, was still in the kitchen with her mother, putting away dishes. He went to Yetta first. “Thank you so much for having Braden and me tonight, Mrs. P. This could have been a tough holiday for us, but you and your family really made us feel welcome." He kissed her hand. "Oh," she said with a flustered little laugh. "You always were such a gentleman. I'm sorry Kingston was so hard on you. I think you reminded him too much of himself." "I take that as a compliment," Mark said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to run off with your daughter— before she has a relapse." Alexa put up a halfhearted protest, but her mother seconded Mark's suggestion. "You know her well. Always doing for others and not herself. She needs someone to remind her who comes first." Mark agreed, and he had a sense that they both knew he was that someone. "Will we see you tomorrow at Romantique?" Yetta asked, as Mark took Alexa's hand and started toward the door. "Absolutely. Braden and I are both looking forward to joining the serving line. I've had more than my share of good fortune recently and I can't wait to give some back."
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