Romancing Mrs. Claus

Chapter Seven

Damaris was having the time of her life! Jack took her to the site of an ancient golden city called Quivira, where the only hint of gold they could find was a small mica flecked jar that reminded Damaris of home. Jack was slightly perturbed to find the rolling plains contained nothing more than herds of cows, pick-up trucks, and several heavyset people who talked funny and called everybody "yall." But his disappointment was relieved by the discovery of heavenly aromas wafting from deliciously tender meat the locals referred to as BarbieQ. 

They visited with the gentle and ancient monks of Shangri-La in the Himalayas where they obtained a vial from the Fountain of Youth. They delved deep within the woods of Iran to pluck a golden apple from the Garden of Hesperides and now they were beneath the sea being chased by a unit of mermen for stealing a thimble from the ancient city of Atlantis. Jack used his power over water to transform he and Damaris into a pair of fish, which didn't fool their pursuers but did enable them to swim far enough ahead to get caught in a net and taken on board a boat.

"Oh Jack, I can't breathe!" Damaris gasped as she flopped about.

"Fear not, I got this," Jack responded.

Damaris felt a feathery tingle run through her body and suddenly found herself growing larger and changing shape. With an agonizing groan and squeak the ropes around them burst open and she and Jack found themselves in the laps of a few surprised Italian fishermen. At first, they were frightened but when the men grew angry Jack took Damaris' hand and leapt onto the deck and off into the city. 

By the time they stopped in the hills to rest, the pair were giggling breathlessly like children. Damaris lay back on the grass and bathed in the warmth of the sun. The familiar scents of the sea that drifted on the breeze brought tears to her eyes. Jack rolled onto his elbow beside her and brushed a tear from her cheek.

"Damaris, are you alright?"

"Never better," she sniffed, then chuckled and sat up. "Where are we anyway?"

"Sicily, I think," Jack replied, looking around. "I don't come here very often so I'm not too familiar with the terrain."

"But I am. Oh, I thought something felt familiar!" Damaris beamed.

"That's right, how long has it been?"

"I really couldn't say, ages and ages."

"Would you like to see it? Where Pompeii used to be I mean." Jack asked softly.

"Do we have time?"

"Of course, good lady, always!" Jack responded, taking her hand and kissing it before helping her to her feet.

Damaris' homecoming was bittersweet. Standing on the cobblestone streets for the first time in over 2000 years, she listened to passing tour guides explain how the very force that had killed her people was also responsible for preserving her city so well. She gazed at the remnants of what was neighbors' homes and businesses and the fully intact baths and amphitheater half expecting to hear the roar of the crowd as gladiators fought to the death. She looked up at the tremendous mountain looming quietly in the distance, the sound of violent explosions and shrieks of terror still echoing in her ears. Suddenly, she was filled with rage seeing groups of strangers snapping pictures to satisfy their morbid fascination with the places that entombed her friends and family. She closed her eyes and placed a hand on Jack's arm.

"We need to leave, now!"

Without another word, Jack took her hand and they dashed away on the wind. They set down at the top of the Eiffel Tower as night fell. Jack watched Damaris stare at the lights of the city in silence.

"Is this alright? I thought you would like to be somewhere that did not resemble Pompeii." He asked.

Damaris turned and smiled, her eyes glittering.

"It's wonderful, thank you. Everything is so beautiful. Where are we now?"

"This is Paris, France, the city of lights."

"It's incredible!" she breathed.

"Would you like something to eat?"

"Oh no, not yet, I'm still admiring the view!"

"You still can," Jack told her gesturing to a pair of glass doors with golden handles.

He ushered her towards a beautiful dimly lit restaurant where they were seated at tables covered in immaculate white table cloths. Jack conversed with their waiter in French for a few moments while Damaris continued to gaze at the scene below. The city was blanketed by a dusting of snow that added to the sparkle of the lights. Before she knew it unusual dishes were placed before her with flavors that continued the magic of the whole experience. They ate, drank, flirted, and laughed and Damaris couldn't remember ever feeling so alive. Her time with Jack was one adventure after another and seemed to just fly by. She sobered at the thought of having to return to the North Pole. Catching her mood, Jack reached across the table to take her hand.

"What is it, darling?" He asked.

"Everything has just been so wonderful but our time together is almost at an end." She sighed.

Jack stared at her for a moment before replying, "It doesn't have to be."

Damaris started.

"What are you saying, Jack?" she asked.

"What's at the Pole for you to return to, hmm? Cold, empty days with only your plants to talk to, sewing circles, quilting bees, canning classes?" He leaned forward, his eyes glittering, "Damaris, sweetheart when we first met you were so vibrant and feisty. I barely recognized you at the festival. I mourned the loss of your spark, I honestly did, but this past week you found it again with me!"

Damaris drew her hand back, her heart pounded in her chest and her head swam. Jack was right of course. She felt as if she had awakened from a long sleep and everything was bright and new again. She loved the way Jack made her feel with a single glance or touch. There were a few times when she thought he was about to kiss her and wondered whether she would accept the kiss or admonish him for it. What if he did kiss her and wanted to take it further? Her whole body tingled at the prospect but as alive as Jack made her feel, her heart wouldn't betray Nikolai. The man may no longer love her as a man loved a wife but she still loved him with all her heart and she knew she always would. 

Nikolai was a good man who was dedicated to his craft and whatever his faults, over the centuries he never once was cruel to her. Walking away because she no longer had her husband's attention was not excusable in her mind. He had gotten used to her, that's all, as she had gotten used to him. Well, when she returned to the North Pole she would do her damnedest to redirect Nikolai's attention. She smiled suddenly.

"You're right, Jack. I've spent far too much time asleep and comfortable but I'm awake now."