Sleigh Bells - Fern Michaels Page 0,36
to honor hot chocolate vouchers for our customers. And those big fat sugar cookies for the kids. If Bess isn’t busy, ask her to make up some vouchers and run them off. See if you can find someone to go over to the south wing where that huge candy store is. Buy up all the candy canes and hand them out at the door to the kids.”
“Super idea! Where do you come up with these ideas? I think I’m going to be marrying a genius.”
“I’m thinking you’re right.” Angie laughed again and waved her hand as she headed back to the food court.
It was the noon hour when Josh flipped on the television in his office. As local television cameras caught the wagon train heading for the mall he watched the unfolding scene with his mouth hanging open. Even the anchor seemed to be beside himself, his words running together. Josh turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Dad! How’d you get here?”
“I came on the first wagon. Eva is down in gift wrap. What do you want me to do?”
The lump in Josh’s throat was so big he thought he was going to choke to death. “What you do best, Dad. What you did for years and years. Stand by the door and hand out treats—we have candy canes and vouchers for hot chocolate and cookies at the food court. Bundle up, Dad.”
“You remembered I used to do that?”
Josh felt shame river through him. “No, Dad. Some lady came up to me and told me how you used to do that. She told me it was an event for her when she was a kid. I’m going to do that again. Want a job?”
Angus swung his scarf around his neck. “Depends on how much the job pays,” he said craftily.
“I was hoping you’d do it for free.”
“Sounds about right to me. You got yourself a new employee, son. See you later,” Angus said, picking up the stack of vouchers. “Where are the candy canes?”
“In a big barrel by the front door. The candy people just delivered them.”
Josh leaned against the door when it closed behind his father. His eyes were so wet he knew in a second that tears were going to roll down his cheeks. It’s not a bad thing, he told himself. He knuckled his eyes before he opened the door, knowing in his heart that he was blessed. Maybe all this that was happening was the miracle everyone talked about during the Christmas season.
By four o’clock the mall was so busy that people were bumping into each other. Camera crews, photographers, and reporters from all the local news channels contributed to the gala that seemed to be going on. Everyone was being interviewed. Only smiles and camaraderie could be seen.
The food vendors worked at breakneck speed to prepare food to be given to the drivers of the wagon trains. The coffee shop was almost out of coffee they were brewing by the gallon. And, one reporter put it, everything was free.
The primary channels ran with the story on the six o’clock news, referring to the event—the wagon train, the freebies the mall was giving out, along with the camaraderie of the shoppers—as Marketing 101 at it’s best. By the time the eleven o’clock news came on, they were calling the wagon train a phenomenon. Within seconds the story flashed around the world via the Internet.
It was midnight when Josh walked to the front door to relieve his father. When he saw Angus being interviewed by CBS News he stepped back to listen. He knew he was eavesdropping, but he didn’t care. The interview would play out in real time instantaneously.
“Now, you listen to me, young fella. What you’re seeing out there is not about money or the bottom line. This is about people coming together to help each other. Those farmers and their wagons aren’t getting a penny for all their hard work. They’ve been out there bringing shoppers back and forth since early this morning. It’s Christmas, son, a time when people help each other. Every merchant in this mall is my friend and my competitor. I want to help them as much as I want to help myself. But more important, we don’t want to disappoint anyone and we want everyone to have a wonderful Christmas, especially the children.
“Mother Nature served us a hard blow today, but we all pitched in and did whatever we could to save the holiday. There aren’t any