I guide Tam around the giant tree and point out various objects including what we call the hidden ornaments.
“It’s like a game. We give kids a bingo card where they can cross off the ornaments they find. If they find them all, they get a prize. Some are hidden to make it tricky.”
Tam smiles, a devious glint in her eye, and I see the little devil her father mentioned in her. To my surprise, she takes my hand as we round the tree. The symbol of Christmas has lost its luster over the years but standing here, pointing out the ornaments and explaining the history of the room, the magic of the season crackles around me a little bit.
My heart isn’t growing three sizes, but a strange sensation warms my insides.
“Here’s our seat.” I pulled some strings and begged Marcus, who organizes the tea, to give me a table next to the tree.
“Wow,” Tam whispers once we sit.
“This was so nice of you,” Marnie adds.
“It was my pleasure.” I smile at Tam as our drink order is taken. Just like at Doll and Me, conversation starters are in a box, prompting guests to discuss topics or share thoughts.
“Your best Christmas memory,” I ask Tam, reading off a strip of paper.
“This right here. But don’t tell Dad.”
“Our secret.” I wink.
“Yeah, I don’t think your dad would be too happy to hear that one. Zebb works hard to make this time magical.” Marnie isn’t admonishing, just laying out the facts for me. Zebb likes Christmas and it’s his right as a dad to honor this time.
“Will you be visiting Santa and telling him your wish list?” I ask.
“Those Santas aren’t the real Santa.”
“Oh.” I glance up at Marnie for guidance. Is eight too old to believe in the man in red? Or too young to stop believing?
“Daddy explained that Santa can’t be everywhere at once, so he has to have helpers. Like elves but these helpers are extra special, like my dad. He dresses up as Santa and goes to the Children’s Hospital each year.”
My breath catches and I lock eyes on Marnie.
“That’s right, honey. Your daddy is one of Santa’s special helpers.” Marnie runs an affectionate hand down Tam’s arm.
Deciding against further Santa conversation, especially because I’m torn between Zebb as a sexy Santa and a man with a huge heart, we move on.
Mini-sandwiches arrive along with our drinks.
“What was your best Christmas memory?” Tam asks me. From the jiggle in her body, I assume her legs are swinging under the table. A sign of her excitement or maybe her ease. However, this question is difficult for me. I never attended a tea or believed in Santa after that fateful Christmas. The entire season felt like a farce when I was young, and I was definitely that kid telling others Santa wasn’t real.
What a terrible thing to do to other kids.
“This right here.” I tell her, smiling at her once again while Marnie watches me. Her head tilts like she doesn’t believe me. This might be one of the first decent Christmas memories I’ve had but I can tell she thinks I’m just laying it on thick for Tam.
I reach for my tea and take a sip, realizing I forgot to add two lumps of sugar. Swallowing around the bitter taste, I set the cup down.
“When I was a kid, my mother left on Christmas Eve. My father canceled Christmas that year. I was ten.” I catch Marnie’s gaze before weakly smiling back at Tam. “I went on vacation every year for Christmas to warm places where it didn’t feel like Christmas. So this really is one of my best memories.”
Tam stares at me, surprised by my admission. “No snow for Christmas wouldn’t feel right.”
“You’re right. It didn’t.” Christmas never felt like it sounded in songs or was pictured in books. It wasn’t white or dashing or any other thing.
“My mom died when I was little,” Tam says as if it’s nothing.
“Out of the mouths of babes,” Marnie murmurs. “Okay, new topic.” She reaches for a slip of paper.
Marnie reads. “What do you want to be when you grow up and why?”