Christmas with the Calvins

Chapter Seventy-Five

When Scott came to, he was standing in a completely different reality. He was looking at himself in a bathroom mirror. A bathroom that he was certain he'd never been in before. Scott looked down to find he was wearing a suit, but not his usual bright red one. It was the kind of stuffy business suit he used to wear when he worked at B & R toys. He was slim again, almost fit. Gone were his rosy cheeks and snow-white beard in their place was a cleanly shaven face. It was exactly what he'd expect his non-Santafied self to look like after twelve years.

"Oh no." Scott said to himself as he realized that Frost must have gotten to the red suit before he did. He was now living in a reality where Jack Frost was Santa Claus and all he'd ever been was Scott Calvin. Scott stepped out of the bathroom and into a very modernly decorated apartment. It was a large open floorplan and by the looks of things, very expensive.

"Ok, so the Mississippi factory needs to know..." As Scott stepped into the apartment's living room a man he'd never met before began talking to him. He was also dressed in a suit so Scott assumed they worked together in the alternative reality. He tried to listen to what the man was saying, but one word caught his ear.

"Excuse me," Scott interrupted whoever he was midsentence. "Did you just say they're not going to ship tomorrow because it's Christmas?"

"Yes sir." The man nodded. He seemed used to these kinds of questions.

"This is Christmas Eve?" Scott pointed to the ceiling as if the date would be written there.

"Yes sir." The man repeated.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked. "Why are we working?"

"We always work on Christmas Eve." The man explained, looking confused. "It's been this way for as long as I've worked for you. About eleven years now."

"That's ridiculous!" Scott exclaimed. "Christmas Eve is when you spend time with your family. Where's my family tonight?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know Mr. Calvin."

"What do you mean?" Scott frowned. He was finding it hard to believe that if he'd never become Santa, things would get so bad that his family was no longer part of his life, especially on Christmas Eve.

"Well you rarely see them and you don't mention them." Sensing his boss' sudden distress, the man reached for his nearby briefcase and removed a planner. "You had me send flowers to a Jessica Andrews on Mother's Day. She's your daughter, I think." He flipped through his planner before finding the note he was looking for. "Send flowers to Jessica Andrews quote, Sorry I missed your birthday and Mother's Day. Maybe we can get together for Christmas Princess. Signed S.C. End quote. She called several times after that, but you wouldn't take the call."

"I missed her birthday?" Scott found himself pressing the palms of his hands against his temples. He knew things in this reality would be different, but he hadn't anticipated just how different. It just didn't make any sense to him. Following his divorce from Laura, Jessie had been the only person who was always at his side. She was his best friend. He was ashamed of his alternate self for allowing their relationship to fall into such disrepair. "Do you still have the address that you sent the flowers to?"

Behind the wheel of the bright red sports car that his assistant had claimed belonged to him, Scott was speeding through the Chicago streets as fast as traffic, and the law, would allow. He needed to get to Jessie right away to find out what had happened between them. Luckily, he knew the address that the assistant had written down. He knew because it was his house or at least his old house.

When Scott pulled up to the house and parked his car he could see right away that the house was in rougher shape than it had been years ago. The exterior paint was peeling, one of the windows had been broken and in place of the glass there was a large piece of plywood. The driveway hadn't even been shoveled out properly. It looked like someone had tried to unbury the vehicle parked in the driveway, but gave up half way through. It didn't look good as Scott made his way to the front door and knocked.