Debra Kastner - A Holiday Prayer

She glanced at her watch.

Dancing. She’d been dancing with her Phantom.

A deep sigh escaped her lips. All she had left of the night was the rose, carefully pressed and drying between the pages of her journal. Were it not for that, Maddie might have thought that it had all been some incredible, romantic dream. Like Cinderella’s glass slipper, the rose was a memento to remember the occasion by.

She wished she’d given him something as well. It would be nice to think that there was a man out there somewhere who remembered her as glamorous Cinderella, and not as a pain-stricken widow.

It was just as well that he’d forever remain a Phantom, she reflected as she led her son to the next zoo display. Any more time in the company of the masked man would no doubt have revealed some all-too-real faults that would have brought her crashing back to reality.

He was much better left a dream.

With gigantic effort, she thrust her thoughts back into the present. “Do you want to feed the ducks?” Maddie asked, ruffling her son’s white-blond locks. “We’ve still got a few minutes before we need to head for the elephants.”

Loaded with a pocketful of quarters, Nicky shouted and raced for the bridge, and to the machine offering duck pellets. He was tossing them by the fistful at the ducks when Maddie strolled up, breathing heavily of the crisp winter air.

Silently watching Nicky calling to the ducks, a man leaned out over the bridge. His dark hair and the set of his broad shoulders seemed achingly familiar, making butterflies dance in Maddie’s stomach.

She stopped short. It couldn’t be him. The thought was utterly ridiculous. What would a wealthy businessman be doing at the zoo, and alone at that? She chastised her fickle mind for betraying her.

She was going crazy, that’s what it was. She’d spent one pleasant evening with a man, and now that she had returned to reality, and was alone once again, she was conjuring him up from the depths of her mind and projecting him onto a stranger..

Desperation at its ugliest. She needed to get a grip on her emotions. And concentrate on her son.

She gave the man one last glance, hoping that by doing so she could prove to her flighty emotions that she was making something out of nothing. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. And her eyes would prove it.

As the ducks clamored around Nicky, she heard the rich sound of the man’s chuckle. And then he combed his fingers through the curls at his neck.

Her heart quavered and dropped into her toes. Her mind screamed, both in elation and disbelief. It was the one gesture that would forever be etched in her mind—the heart-stopping idiosyncrasy of her Phantom.

Unbidden, anger welled in her chest. He’d abandoned her, and he had never let her see his face. How dare he disappear without a word?

Well, she had some words for him! Persuading her to unmask, and then refusing to do the same. Running off on her without even saying goodbye. Who was it that said women were fickle? It must have been a man.

She stomped forward and yanked on the wool of his coat, pulling him around to face her.

When her gaze met his intense, flaming eyes, she gasped. The tiny, niggling voice still whispering that it might not be the same man died a quick and silent death as recognition lit his dark eyes and a crooked smile replaced his frown.

It was her Phantom.

She hadn’t even considered the fact that he wouldn’t be wearing a mask, or given a thought to what he might look like without it. In her spontaneous rush of anger, she’d approached him without thinking, both dreading and anticipating the confrontation.

She stepped back in shock at what she saw. His strong cheekbones, which had been hidden by the mask, gave even more depth to the planes of his face. He was, as she had known he would be, strikingly handsome.

But that wasn’t what made her gasp. His mask had indeed been hiding the truth.

The right side of his face, around the temple, forehead, and eye, was covered with very real bandages.

Surprise registered only momentarily on his face before he grinned and shrugged. “I see you caught me. Your Phantom is more like the real Phantom of the Opera than you anticipated, huh?”

Maddie tried to speak, but her mouth was dry. “I…uh…”

“I’m sorry. I can see I startled you. I—”

“Mom! I fed all of the ducks!” Nicky bounded between them, bouncing on his toes.

“He did, too!” her Phantom confirmed, smiling in a way that made Maddie’s heart turn over. Something about those lips. Perhaps it was the bandages that shadowed the rest of his face, just as the Phantom’s mask had. Or maybe she was remembering the sweet tenderness of his kiss.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought. Nicky latched on to her arm and peered timidly at the bandaged-faced man. “It’s okay, Nicky. This man is my—” she hesitated over the word “—friend.”

“I’m Mr. M…” His sentence trailed. “Um, Nicky, do you want to ride the train?”

That was all it took to make a fast friend of the young boy, who grabbed the man’s hand and pulled him toward the train.

The Phantom scooped Nicky into his arms, placing the boy on his broad shoulders. “Look, there, Nicky! You’re as tall as the giraffes, now!”

He was a natural with children, Maddie thought as they headed for the train, and Nicky was eating up his attention, squealing with glee. Warning bells rang in Maddie’s mind, and she quickly installed mental barriers. The more she knew of this man, the more there was to like. But fairy tales didn’t translate into reality, and she was setting herself up to be left with a crushed pumpkin and a couple of mice for company.

Something she definitely could do without. She’d have to be more careful.

Maddie’s eyes met the Phantom’s and he smiled, sharing with her in Nicky’s delight. It was a small gesture, yet it warmed her heart like a woodstove on a brisk morning.

“I didn’t quite catch your name,” she reminded him as he planted Nicky on the train, waving as the locomotive powered up.

A surprised look crossed his face, but was quickly shadowed. “Hmm?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard her question.

“Your name. You know, what people call you to get your attention. I can’t keep calling you Phantom all the time. It would be embarrassing for me and humiliating for you.”

Neil glanced at his watch, stalling for time. He hadn’t anticipated seeing her again—or rather, having her see him. And now she was demanding his name.

What was he supposed to say? Hi, my name is Neil March, the man responsible for your husband’s death.

“I…um,” he mumbled, looking right and left, wishing desperately that a gap in the earth would open up and give him an escape route. Swallow him whole. He couldn’t tell her the truth, though he knew she deserved to hear it.

“Rory,” he said, making a split-second decision. “My friends call me Rory.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. He had, in fact, been raised as Rory. Neil Rory March III. His father was already Neil Jr., so adding another Neil to the family clan had seemed a bit confusing. Neil had gone by his middle name until he graduated from college and claimed his inheritance.

“Rory,” Maddie repeated, running her low, melodic voice over the syllables. The sound was like a balm to his soul.

“Mrs. Carlton!” The master of ceremonies for the grand opening of the Pachyderm Pavilion rushed upon them, startling Neil. He took a step backwards and turned his face away from any who might recognize him. “It’s time. We’ve been looking all over for you. Everyone is waiting.”

A tumult of confusion ensued as Maddie gathered Nicky under her arm and muttered about not noticing the time. Several others in charge of seeing the grand opening go off without a hitch converged on her, giving her instructions on speaking and wishing her luck.