A fan fic story based on SB''s Mason and Julia

“I want a white Christmas,” Samantha said once when it was two weeks to the holidays.

Julia looked at Mason.

There would be no snow in Santa Barbara, there had never been, at least during Mason’s lifetime. And the firm of Capwell&Capwell was having an extremely busy time.

Mason shrugged his shoulders.

“Honey, we won’t have a white Christmas here in Santa Barbara,” said Julia ruefully. “And you don’t want to go for Christmas away from here, do you? Not when your grandparents, and your aunties, and your uncles all go out of their way to lavish you with presents and--”

“I do,” Samantha said. “I want a white Christmas so much, with snow. I want to make a snowman, mom.”

“We can do it,” Mason said.

“Can we?” asked Julia doubtfully.

“Yes, we can. If Samantha wants it.”

Samantha flew onto Mason’s neck, “Oh daddy! I love you.”
Julia smiled. She was the strict parent, Mason the lenient one. He could never resist it when Samantha pouted or looked at him in her special entreating way and asked him for anything.

He’d get anything for her, and he would do anything for her. Anything at all. He’d laid himself out to get whatever her heart desired.

Who would have thought he’d make such a doting father, Julia thought. The dark, self-centered man who once had been ready to impregnate her and stay away from the result of the ‘baby contract!’

Julia leant and kissed Mason. “I love you too, daddy,” she said.


*

Mason hired a little house in the mountains where there was enough snow for Samantha around. The house looked like one in a snow globe; that’s what Samantha said the moment she saw it, and clapped her hands.

“It sure does,” Julia agreed enthusiastically. “Mason, I hope we won’t get stuck here the way we did once with Victoria--”

Mason glared at her. “I’ve taken every precaution,” he said coldly. “Taking no chances now that Samantha’s with us, Julia.”

“I know. I am sorry.” She turned to the girl. “Are you happy?”
Samantha’s cheeks were red, her whole face lit up; quite rewarding.

“Yes, mummy,” she said. “I’ll be able to see the reindeer’s traces on the snow now.”

Now, how was Mason going to conjure THIS up, Julia wondered.

He did look puzzled. “Ah – I’m not sure, Samantha. Don’t you know they just come flying sometimes – and then Santa would get down the flue?”

Samantha’s face mirrored her father’s mien. “Mummy?” she said.
“Mummy?” Mason echoed, turning to Julia for help.

“Yes, honey; I don’t think – that is daddy’s right. You remember your pictures, the reindeer flying across the sky full of stars, right?”

“But will there be jingle bells?”

“Yes” – “Yes,” Mason and Julia said, relieved. This was so much easier.

“So I WILL know when Kris Kringle comes?”

“Won’t you be sleeping then?” Mason frowned.

“I hope not,” Samantha confessed. “You’ve seen him; why can’t I?”

Mason and Julia exchanged worried glances. Neither of them had ever mentioned meeting Kris to anyone, least of all Samantha; they felt she was too small yet. They had no idea who could have put the idea into her head.

“Why should you say that?” asked Mason cautiously. “Did Mrs. Cobb tell you that one can meet--”

Samantha shrugged it off. “No – no one’s told me. I just know. It’s because – well – you have met him, daddy, you have, haven’t you?”

Mason and Julia’s policy was to never lie to their child. Dodging questions was another thing, and Mason was an expert at this, but this time he did not resort to it.

“We have,” he said reluctantly. “But we met him when we were grown-up already, Samantha. When children, we never saw him.”

“Why?” the girl pouted.

“We were sleeping every time he came and left the presents,” Julia seconded.

“I’ll try not to,” Samantha decided and started for the house.
Julia caught Mason’s hand and squeezed it; they followed their daughter.


*

There was an adorable little pine tree at the back of the house. Samantha demanded it to be cut and moved inside, but Julia said it was better to decorate it right there; this way, if they came the next year, the tree would be alive and happy to see them again.

Mason made a fire downstairs and made sure the bedrooms upstairs were warm, too. They had dinner, and then went out to decorate the tree.

“And don’t forget the snowman,” Samantha said bouncing with excitement.

When they were done, the snowman looked half-alive in the multi-colored light streaming from the branches of the Christmas tree. Gleaming in the night, it looked magic.

And Samantha could hardly keep her eyes open.

Mason took the drowsy child in his arms. “I’ll take her upstairs.”

“I’ll undress her?” Julia said.

“Let me do it.”


“Oh daddy, I can’t go to bed,” Samantha argued in whispers as he was carrying her in his arms.

“Why?”

“I – I just can’t! I won’t see Kris if I do!”

Mason smiled into his own beard. “Well, Samantha, children are supposed to be sleeping when Santa comes. Sometimes, if they manage to wait up the whole night he does not come at all, because he does not like naughty children, you know.”

Samantha fell silent, and Mason thought she was asleep. He undressed her and tucked her in cozily.

The tree could be seen out of her window, and when Mason looked out it seemed to him the snowman looked up at him, too. Mason waved his hand; a good thing no one saw him.

“Daddy,” Samantha’s voice said, thick with sleepiness.

“Yes?”

“Will you stay here?”

“No, I’ll go downstairs and join mummy. We’ll chat for a while, sitting by the fire, and then we’ll occupy the bedroom next to your room for the rest of the night.”

“Uh-huh,” Samantha said. “But if I do not see Kris now, it means another year without--”

“Without--? What is it you have to do without?” said Mason softly.

Had he been inattentive to her spoken – or unspoken – wishes? The car was full of presents the girl was to find under the tree in the morning; what was left out, he wondered.

Samantha did not say anything. This time she was sleeping.
Frowning, Mason went downstairs.


*

“She said if she did not see Kris this year, it would mean another whole year without. Without what!” Mason exclaimed.

“I wish I knew, honey. It’s the first time I heard about it.”

“If she wants something so much, and it’s evident she wants it VERY much, if she has dragged us here--”

“She did not have to DRAG, one word to her daddy was enough,” Julia smiled.

“So why did not she tell ME what it is she wants so badly!!”
Julia smiled to herself. “Do not get so distraught, Mason. Maybe it’s a dream that will soon wear off. I remember, when a child once I wanted to have a live turtle – wanted it really badly for about a fortnight. Then I forgot about it, and if they had given me a turtle in a month or so I would have had absolutely no idea what to do with it, or why--”

“It’s different, Julia,” Mason said. “She wants something for Christmas and she would not even hint. She knows we’d get her anything – almost anything, and I think she really knows how to drop hints here and there. But this time she keeps it secret. I have no idea--”

“Ok, when we find out, we can get it. What difference does it make if it’s past Christmas? We can talk to Sophia or Augusta or Cruz and Eden, and they will tell Samantha Santa thought she was still in Santa Barbara and left this something there for her.”

“A good idea,” Mason said. “Come here.”

“What is it?” Julia said raising her head. “MISTLETOE?”

“Looks like this. Do you know what we have to do now as I happen to be standing right under it?”

“I do,” she said clinging to him, “and I know how romantic you can be – but, Mason, even I have never thought you’d hang mistletoe--”

“What do you mean?” he raised his eyebrow. “I have done nothing of the sort. I thought you did when I was up with Samantha.”

“No!” Julia laughed.

“You mean it''s been here all the time?”

“Probably.”

“And we have not seen it before?”

“Probably.”

“Then we have to rectify this.”

Mason kissed his wife full on the lips. She returned the kiss.

“It’s a good thing you must kiss under the mistletoe.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean it’s a good thing you are not obliged to do MORE under the mistletoe.”

Mason took a step back. “Why? Wouldn’t you like some MORE?”

Julia laughed. “Of course I would – of course I do. Only by the fireplace it’s so much cozier, don’t you think?”

They moved on.

...

And, without knowing this, they made the decisive step to gratifying Samantha’s wish.

The wish for a little brother or sister.
2006

May your days be merry and bright
And may all your Christmases be white.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Thanks for the screenshot below to
the Russian fan/fun site for SB lovers!

Olga Lisenkova

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