52. An Aha! Moment

52

AN AHA! MOMENT

PATRICK

9 DAYS 'TIL CHRISTMAS

Quinn's letter is the most adorable one to date. He documents, in great detail, the thrill of meeting Milo.

I think I might actually be a dog person, he writes. I smile to myself. Quinn's growth is my favorite thing to witness. I only wish I'd been there. Though, this seems like maybe something he needed to do by himself.

Just like how he fixed up the New Jersey house, as I saw in the memories and heard about in his letters.

It's interesting that I made a home for us here, and then he made a home for us there. But the longer we're apart, and the longer our letters get, the more I'm beginning to believe that home is not four walls and a roof.

Home is love.

And my love for Quinn can't be contained by a house or a ring or a place or a time. It's magic.

Speaking of magic, I have handwritten reports from Hobart on productivity, happiness, and love that span from when we arrived at the North Pole, when the redesign launched, and then when Quinn left. Somehow, the magic is working better than ever before. Way past peak performance.

That doesn't make sense.

We're almost a week out from Christmas. Despite our best efforts, we are still ridiculously behind on our production schedule. Time is of the essence. In one short hour, I'm supposed to present my plan for increased productivity before the council, but with everything so topsy-turvy, I haven't come up with a solid proposal.

I jot all my findings down in my leather-bound notebook, sling on a coat, and walk to the stables. Blitzen comes trotting over from across the field with his head slung low. "I forgot your apples today. Sorry. Scatterbrained." He harrumphs at me, but still accepts apologetic pets on his groomed hide. "I'm in a rush to figure something out and I could really use my best sounding board right now." He playfully kicks up some snow.

"Something isn't right…" I almost wish he could read so I could show him my notebook. As I put these data points side by side, I'm reminded of the viewfinder I had as a child. Images of beaches or world wonders gradually moving from grainy into vivid focus with the twist of a knob. "Productivity was up when we arrived, down when the redesign happened due to changes, but then up again around the time of the Elf Extravaganza and the anniversary ball. Then, when I started building the dream house, morale lowered. Productivity did, too." My thoughts grow crisper by the second. "The magic only righted itself and then surpassed itself when…" I take out Quinn's first letter to me at the North Pole and, sure enough, the dates match. "We revisited our connection."

Blitzen lets out three quick grunts that sound like doi, doi, doi .

At the meeting, Nicholas asks me what's to be done to meet our wish quota. All I do is hold up the letters. There are farcical looks on all their faces. As if they were aware of these letters all along. I proceed with my spiel anyway, showing them the missives and the rings around my neck.

"What do a couple of letters from Quinn and your wedding bands prove?" Ashley asks. She crosses her legs.

"It proves that the separation didn't work the way you all thought it would. Our love can still fuel the magic. Daily, the workshop is producing double the gifts it was when we started here all thanks to these letters. Quinn's and my love didn't need to end. We only needed the space to explore ourselves and our love on our own terms for it to continue," I relay. Loaded silence permeates the room before…

"I knew this would work," Colleen says, springing to her feet.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," says Yvonne. "The oldest adage in the book. I should've known."

"Wait, this was the plan all along?" I ask, bewildered yet relieved to find I've fallen into a trap.

"Love that overcomes is stronger than love that settles," says Nicholas, imbuing the words with deep sagacity. "The magic is on the mend. Your love has proven itself."

"Does that mean— Does that mean Quinn and I can get back together?" I fiddle with the rings. My fingers itch to remove this necklace, undo the wedding bands, and put them back where they belong.

"Indeed." Colleen touches a hand to her heart.

"And he can stay in New Jersey even if I stay on as Santa?"

Colleen smiles then speaks again. "So long as he spreads cheer and love to everyone he encounters. We've already begun rewriting our bylaws."

"Remember, not all shake-ups are bad," says Nicholas with a wink. "That's our mantra going forward. No more gendered language, no more overly strict expectations, and no more this is how we've always done it . Times change. You and Quinn showed us that we need to change along with it."

Hobart yips with glee.

The letters to Quinn, from then until Christmas, pour out of me.

Let's just say a Christmas miracle is on its way, I write in the first one.

What? How? Have I told you recently that you're amazing? Quinn says at the beginning of his reply.

As my days blur into nights and the big ride inches ever closer, I find time every evening to sit by candlelight, dip my quill into the inkwell, and write to my husband. I'm leaning into the drama of it all.

You're really not going to tell me what to expect? Quinn writes in a later letter.

I'm really not going to tell you, I scribe back. Can I ask you another favor? Can you tell my parents to stay up until midnight on Christmas Eve? I need to see them.

Our letters start arriving closer and closer together as the excitement mounts. Of course. I'm actually seeing your mom this weekend. We're picking out a restaurant for Christmas dinner. Apparently even she's over cooking the ham. She told me she doesn't even like ham! It's just tradition at this point. Suffice to say, we had a good laugh.

My heart thumps steadily as everything falls into place.

I sign off my final letter to Quinn for the year: See you soon, my love, when all will be revealed.