Chapter 2 - The Secret Secret Santa
When Rita returned to the table ten minutes later, she carried a massive tray loaded with food.
It wasn't just a single kid's chicken tender plate.
There was a steaming plate of golden-brown roasted chicken, a mountain of buttered mashed potatoes, a bowl of piping-hot chicken noodle soup, a basket of warm biscuits, and two massive ice cream sundaes topped with tall swirls of whipped cream, hot fudge, and bright red cherries.
Kate’s eyes went as wide as saucers. "Mommy! Look! The princess food!"
Jenna froze, her heart leaping into her throat in pure terror. "Wait... Rita, no, I'm sorry! There's been a mistake," she stammered, frantically reaching into her pocket for her twenty dollars. "I... I didn't order any of this. I can't pay for this! I only have twenty dollars!"
Rita set the tray down gently, sliding the feast onto the formica table. She bent down and leaned close to Jenna, whispering softly so the girls wouldn't hear.
"There's no mistake, sweetheart," Rita said softly. "A gentleman paid your tab. Everything on this table, plus a five-hundred-dollar gift card to the grocery store down the street, and he left this for you."
Rita slid a heavy, linen napkin across the table. Wrapped inside it was a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills, held together by a simple black paper band.
Jenna stared at the cash in absolute shock. Her hands shook so violently she couldn't even reach out to touch it. "Who... who did this? Where is he?"
Jenna spun around in her booth, looking wildly around the diner. But the booth behind her was empty. A single fifty-dollar bill had been left on the counter beside an untouched mug of black coffee. Outside the window, a tall figure in a dark wool coat was already walking away down the snow-covered sidewalk, disappearing into the swirling white blizzard of Chicago.
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Ivy looked up at her mother, her small face filled with pure wonder. "Mommy... was that Santa?"
Tears finally spilled over Jenna’s eyelashes, dropping onto the hot surface of the chicken noodle soup. For the first time in six months, she didn't feel the crushing weight of panic in her chest. She pulled both of her daughters close, hugging them so tightly they giggled, as the warmth of the diner washed over them like a miracle.
