There's Magic in Believing

Chapter 1

'Hope! Dinner!' Neal called out.

'What is she doing up there, anyway?' he asked Sara, who was busy setting the table.

'She and Olivia are supposed to be practicing for the school play tryouts' she replied. 'But I heard an awful lot of giggling earlier.'

'Liam!' Neal said, addressing his son who sat curled up on the couch in the family room. 'That's enough TV for today, buddy. Come on, dinner's ready.'

'Awww, but Daddy, it's not over yet' the five-and-a-half year-old whined.

'If you get your homework done and you finish your chores, you can watch the end of your show before you go to bed' Sara replied, walking over to physically turn off the television set and coax him into the kitchen.

'Not carrots!' the child complained as he looked over to where Neal had begun to dish out the plates.

'HOPE!' Neal shouted as Sara gave him the evil eye.

'I'll go get her' she said, moving towards the stairs.

She was halfway up the staircase when Hope and Olivia Mason came charging down past her, giggling madly, like the typical ten-year-olds that they were.

'Finally! I thought we were going to have to bring dinner up to you' Sara said, ruffling her daughter's hair as she whizzed by her on the staircase.

'Did you call your mom to let her know you were staying for dinner?' Sara asked Olivia as the group settled in to eat.

'Yes, she said to call her when I'm ready to come home' the child replied.

Neal piled on some basmati rice onto each of the plates, followed by some curry chicken and some carrots. 'I hope this isn't too spicy for you, Olivia' he commented.

'I like spicy' she said in response. 'My mom always says I should have been born into an Indian family.'

Sara chuckled and took her plate from Neal's outstretched hand. 'So, when are the tryouts?' she asked.

'Next week' Hope said her blue eyes shining brightly. 'Mrs. Winters says the role of the shoemaker can go to either a boy or a girl.'

'So is that the role you're both trying out for?' Sara asked.

'Yup. We're doing a performance in the afternoon for the rest of the school and another one at night for the parents' Hope explained, her face flushed with excitement.

'May the best man win!' Olivia declared solemnly as they clinked their milk glasses and Hope nodded in agreement.

Sara and Neal exchanged amused smiles. Those two were joined at the hip and had been since the age of two; surely, a little friendly competition would never threaten to their break up their solid friendship.

'Am I going to the play, Mommy?' Liam asked, his green eyes bright with excitement.

'Of course you are, sweetie' Sara replied, smiling at her son. 'We're all going, even Uncle Mozzie and Uncle Peter and Aunt Elizabeth are coming. But it's not until the last day of school before the Christmas holidays.'

'Isn't your class singing a song at the concert?' Neal inquired as Liam shrugged as if it was news to him.

'Yes you are, Liam. Remember, you're singing 'Silent Night' his sister reminded him.

Liam cheered and clapped and Neal pointed to his plate, encouraging him to take a bite.

'How many sleeps before Santa comes, Daddy?' the little boy asked, looking up at his dad and ignoring his plate, full of food.

Hope scoffed and giggled and Sara gave her daughter a look of reprimand while Neal walked over to the refrigerator and brought back the calendar on which Liam had been counting down the days until Christmas since early December.

'You tell me' Neal said as he placed the calendar in front of his son.

Liam put his finger on the calendar, unsure where to begin. 'This is today' Neal pointed. 'And this is Christmas so how many days are left?'

Liam seemed confused and Neal got him started, counting the days remaining, with Liam faltering when he got to fifteen.

'Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen' Neal coaxed as Sara watched with interest.

'Eighteen days!' Neal declared.

'Awww, that's way too many!' the child whined, setting his elbows on the table and placing his chin on his hands in an exaggerated look of disappointment.

'Well, Santa needs time to get ready. He has a lot to do before Christmas' Neal reminded him, patting his son on the back. 'Now come on, eat your dinner.'

'Mo-o-o-m…' Hope said, kicking her mom under the table and giving her a knowing look, which Sara chose to ignore.

Instead, Sara turned her attention to the pretty blonde ten-year-old who was a regular visitor to their home. 'So, how are things over at your house? Is your mom getting ready for Christmas?'

'Yeah, my grandma is coming to visit and she's really excited' Olivia replied.

Neal and Sara exchanged sad glances; there would be no grandparents in the Caffrey home this Christmas - not official ones, anyway. As honorary grandmother, June had always been there for the kids and had played the all-important role of matriarch but the holidays were always a stark reminder that Sara's parents were long gone and Neal… well, he had no interest in having his mom back in his life.

'My dad says that TV show might be coming to film on our street for the house decorating contest' Olivia continued.

'What?' Neal replied, instantly perking up.

The house decorating contest was the highlight of the holiday season in their quiet little hamlet. Ever since the Caffreys had moved to White Plains nine years earlier, Neal had been an eager participant and he was still riding high from his victories from the last two years running; a feat he bragged about to anyone who would listen.

'You mean Home for the Holidays?' he asked as Sara stared ahead in despair.

On the first of December of every year, the normally civilized, well mannered men of Meadowbrook Street morphed into frenzied competitors as the annual contest was launched and although the men on the quiet street could hardly contain their glee, their wives were considerably less enthusiastic about the event. For one month during the year, their husbands did all they could to outdo each other and come up with the biggest and brightest (some might argue gaudiest) Christmas display and the contest seemed to dominate every conversation on the quiet street for weeks on end. The climax of the competition was the holiday block party which was held just days before Christmas, where the winner was crowned and inherited bragging rights until they did it all over again the next year.

What had begun as a friendly incentive to get the street looking festive for the holidays had evolved into a rather unhealthy surge of testosterone as the men reverted to caveman behaviour in order to win first prize which, astonishingly, was nothing more than a six inch high trophy of Santa which had been purchased twenty years earlier at the local Dollar Store. Second and third place prizes were also awarded and usually consisted of gift certificates, worth much more that the trophy - yet significantly less coveted by the participants.

The contest was fiercely disputed and for an ambitious, competitive guy like Neal Caffrey, it didn't take much more than the whiff of such a competition to get him all pumped up. He and Olivia's dad, Jeff Mason, were the undisputed front-runners, having racked up eight of the last ten titles between the two of them and, despite their friendship, they competed fiercely for the distinction of best decorated house every time the holiday season came around.

'Yeah' Olivia continued. 'My dad said we're on the short list to be on the show and he said there's a cash prize too. I think he said two thousand dollars.'

Neal's demeanour changed, his eyes growing excited. For the past couple of years, the local television station had been highlighting a different neighbourhood every holiday season and if their street had been short-listed for the honour, he sure as hell wanted to be a part of it.

'What's a short list?' Hope asked.

'It means that our street is one of just a couple of streets they're looking at for the contest' Sara replied with a sigh of discouragement.

With the level of testosterone on the street already at a record high during the month of December, she shuddered to think what might happen if there was additional incentive for the contest participants to try to outdo one another.

'Are you going to participate, Daddy?' Hope asked.

'Of course, honey. I participate every year' Neal replied with a wide grin, the wheels already turning.

Sara sighed and returned to her meal, muttering under her breath.

WCWCWC

Once Liam was tucked in for the night, Neal made his way down the hall to his daughter's room. He found her lying on her stomach, legs swinging as she read a book.

'Honey, five more minutes before lights out' he said, stepping in and sitting on the edge of her bed.

Hope put down her book and looked up at her dad; she obviously had something on her mind.

'Daddy, I really want to play the role of the shoemaker in the play' Hope said, her face serious. 'But so does Olivia.'

'Well, only one of you can get the main role' Neal reminded her. 'Isn't that a boy's part, though?'

'Mrs. Winters said a boy or a girl could play the shoemaker… whoever gives the best performance… and I know Olivia really wants it. But so do I.'

'Competing with a friend isn't easy' Neal admitted, his mind wandering to the house decorating contest. 'But it's okay to get excited if you get it, you just need to be sensitive to what Olivia might be feeling and hopefully, she'll do the same for you if she gets the role.'

'I think I'm better than she is' Hope confided, her voice low.

Neal smiled. 'Well, it's important to have confidence in yourself… as long as you don't get a swelled head.'

'A swelled head?' Hope repeated, images of somebody with a large noggin dancing in her head.

'You know, become arrogant… insensitive' Neal replied, speaking the words with a straight face, despite his previous, intimate relationship with vanity and smugness.

Hope nodded in understanding.

'Honey, there's something else I need to talk to you about. All those knowing looks whenever Liam mentions Santa…'

'But Daddy, he's almost six years old. Don't you think it's time he knows the truth?' she asked, looking very stern.

'No, I don't. I think as long as Liam believes in Santa Claus, we should let him. When he's old enough, he'll figure it out by himself. That's what happened with you.'

Hope rolled her eyes; believing in Santa was so childish, beneath the dignity of a soon to be eleven-year-old like herself.

'Don't you remember how excited you used to get about Santa?' Neal asked her with a winsome smile. 'You were almost seven years old by the time you stopped believing. Do you really want to be responsible for ruining Christmas for your little brother?'

Hope frowned; she was at an age where she thought she knew it all. She could feel Neal's eyes boring into her, waiting for an answer and she shrugged, pouting.

'I don't know…'

'Well, I do. Stop it, all right. Let your little brother enjoy the magic of Christmas. Now, go brush your teeth. It's time for you to go to sleep.'

Neal made his way downstairs, finding Sara in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards and setting out some baking ingredients on the counter.

'Did he finally settle?' she asked, looking up.

'Sort of…' Neal replied, grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruit on the kitchen table and taking a large bite.

'It's going to be a long three weeks if he keeps this up' Sara said as she pulled out some flour and sugar from the cupboard and set them down on the counter. 'You know, I don't remember him being this excited about Santa last year.'

'Are you kidding?' Neal said. 'Don't you remember how he came into our bed at 6:00 every morning for the last two weeks, asking us if it was Christmas yet?'

'Oh yeah…' Sara replied as the memory came flooding back. 'And what's with Hope, anyway? I'm about ready to throttle her!'

'It's okay. I just had a little talk with her and told her to cool it' Neal said, taking a seat at the table. 'After all, this might be the last year Liam believes in Santa.'

'It just seems so mean spirited of her' Sara commented, turning to face her husband. 'Why would she want to ruin it for her little brother?'

'Oh, honey, she doesn't want to ruin it for him; she's just at that age where she thinks she knows everything and she wants the whole world to know it.'

Neal got to his feet and meandered out to the front hall where he grabbed for his warm winter coat and slipped on his boots as Sara craned her neck, following him with her eyes.

'Where are you going? It's 9:00' she stated.

'I'm just going to pop in and talk to Jeff about the contest for a minute' Neal explained. 'See what he knows.'

'You're kidding! Neal, we're seeing them on Saturday night for dinner. What's the rush?' Sara asked, frowning.

'I won't be long' he replied with his best conman grin.

'But I thought you were making those cookies for Hope's class!' she reminded him, pointing to the ingredients she'd laid out for him and giving him a decisive glare.

He shrugged and opened the door to let himself out. 'I will' he said, blowing her a kiss goodby. 'I'll do it when I get back.'

WCWCWC

It was past 11:30 by the time Neal finally made it to bed and Sara stirred as he slipped in behind her, arms instantly reaching out for a cuddle as he sighed contentedly.

'Seriously Caffrey? It's the middle of the night' she complained, her voice sleepy.

'First of all, it's not even midnight and secondly… it's been a week and a half' Neal reminded her, letting his hand linger up and down her thigh in an effort to telegraph his intentions.

'Well, if you came to bed at a decent hour, I might be a little more… interested' she moaned, shifting her hips back in an effort to push him away.

He continued to run his hand languidly up and down her leg, moving to cup her butt cheeks and squeezing as he let out a soft moan of wanton lust, waiting - and praying - for the desired response. Sara chose to ignore him and in the awkward silence that followed, Neal pondered his next move.

'You smell good, babe' he murmured, trying to move things along.

There was more of the uncomfortable silence as he brought his lips to the crook of Sara's neck, nuzzling her and continuing to give it his best shot.

'Did you make the cookies?' she asked, breaking the silence.

'I can do it in the morning' he whispered, his mouth moving down the middle of her back.

'Neaaaal!' she complained, pulling away. 'Hope's class is having that pot luck and you promised you'd make shortbread cookies.'

'And I will. Hope will have her cookies… I promise' Neal moaned, still hopeful for a change of heart on his wife's part. 'What about me? Don't I get a little treat? I've been a very good boy.'

Apparently, that was up for debate, considering the icy silence that followed.

Neal sighed in response to the snub. 'Sara… Come on, babe. I'm… badly in need here' he cooed, bringing his arms tighter around her waist and rutting up against her suggestively.

She could smell the lingering scent of beer on him despite the fact his breath was minty fresh - no doubt he'd brushed his teeth, hoping to up his chances of getting some 'Caffrey lovin'.

'Well, you should have thought about that while you were over at Jeff's, sipping beer instead of making cookies for your daughter's pot luck' she declared, obviously miffed.

Neal grumbled in reply and flipped onto his back. It appeared he wasn't going to be getting anywhere, anytime soon. He lay there pouting, Sara's breathing slowly evening out as he fumed in the dark room. With his advances rebuffed, his mind wandered back to the house decorating contest and the unique opportunity he had of taking the title for a third year in a row. No one had ever gone three in a row in the history of the competition and he smiled to himself in the darkened bedroom as he imagined being the first to accomplish the feat.

According to Jeff, they would know by the weekend if their street had been selected as the site for this year's televised contest. The two thousand dollar prize would be a nice bonus but bragging rights were even more important and Neal realized he would need to further beef up the already impressive plan he'd been working on for the past month. Maybe Mozzie would give him a hand; he was always good at ferreting out unique, vintage decorations and everybody knew vintage was 'in' these days.

He lay in bed, mentally going over the elaborate plan he'd developed, all nine of Santa's reindeer pulling the old man in his sleigh with Rudolph front and centre, a dozen or so brightly coloured wreaths and an impressive array of lights and various other Christmas paraphernalia. This year, he was adding a row of oversized gingerbread men all along the front of the house and there was the Frosty scene complete with the characters from the animated show he'd picked up at a Christmas specialty shop when they'd visited the Muskokas for their summer vacation.

Maybe Peter would come over on the weekend and give him a hand with putting up some of the stuff - there was too much for him to do on his own considering that every year, he added more and more to his now extensive collection.

His last thoughts before falling asleep were of those cookies he had to make first thing in the morning and when he finally did nod off, he dreamed of gingerbread men and little toy soldiers.

WCWCWC

Neal made it home first and was already halfway through dinner preparations when he heard the front door open and the unmistakeable voices of his wife and children returning to the nest after a long day. Sara had picked up both of the kids from school and in preparation for their arrival, he'd been putting together one of her favourite meals - all in the hopes of being forgiven for his shortcomings from the night before.

'Mmmm. Does my nose deceive me?' Sara called out from the front of the house. 'It smells like shrimp risotto in here!'

Neal was smiling, self-satisfied, when Liam came running in. 'Yuck!' he complained with a grimace. 'I hate shrimp!'

'Hi buddy' Neal replied, leaning down to catch him on the fly as he ran by in his stocking feet. 'Don't worry, I made chicken for you guys.'

Liam kissed and hugged his dad before squirming to be let down and he raced over to the family room, turning on the television for his daily dose of entertainment.

'Not too loud!' Sara chastised as she made her appearance, sniffing at what Neal was making.

'Risotto… on a week night' she commented as she kissed her husband hello. 'You really are hoping to be forgiven, aren't you?'

Hope was the last to come into the kitchen, dragging her backpack and pulling out an empty tupperware container which she handed to her dad.

'Daddy, Mrs. Winters said these were the absolute best shortbread cookies she's ever tasted' she announced.

Neal glanced over at Sara, giving her a smug smile. 'Is that right?' he said, gloating.

'She wants to know if you could make another batch for our Christmas lunch' Hope continued, emptying out her school bag on the kitchen table.

Sara giggled; it seemed that Neal was a victim of his own success.

'Sure' he mumbled. 'Hey, hey, hey, not on the table. We're having dinner in twenty minutes' he said, returning to tend to the capricious dish on the stovetop.

'Daddy, can I go see Santa this weekend?' Liam asked from the nearby family room.

Neal gave Hope a warning glance as she giggled - unbeknownst to Liam who was half listening to whatever gibberish was playing television.

'Buddy, I don't think Santa's coming to town for another week or so' Neal explained.

'Yeah, Liam. Remember? Santa lives in the North Pole' Hope said, her voice full of sarcasm. 'If you believe that!'

'Hope!' Sara said sternly, giving her the evil eye. 'Don't you have some homework to do before dinner.'

Hope glared at her mom, her thick wavy hair bouncing as she stomped emphatically towards the staircase. 'You two are just bad parents who lie to their children' she declared as she disappeared upstairs.

Liam didn't pay her any mind but Neal and Sara stood there with their mouths hanging open, liars that they were.

WCWCWC

'A little higher' Neal called out from the street. 'No, that's too high!'

Peter stood atop the stepladder, his arms extended as he held up a row of brightly coloured lights and sighed; Neal was a perfectionist in all things, not the least of which was this asinine house decorating contest he insisted on participating in every year.

'Peter, you're not even trying' Neal complained as he walked closer to the house.

'Well, you come up here and do it and I'll check from the street' Peter suggested, taking a step down.

'No, you don't have the same… discriminating eye' Neal replied, only half joking.

Peter glared back at him; he was giving up his Saturday to help Neal in his obsessive quest to win the title for a third year in a row and he didn't appreciate his best friend being so critical of his efforts.

'It's time for lunch, anyway' Neal said as he reached out to take Peter's arm - a gesture Peter seemed to take umbrage to. 'Come on, I'll make you some nice clam chowder to warm you up.'

'Hey Neal!' they heard, coming from the street.

'Jeff!' Neal replied. 'Any news?'

'Yeah, we're in' the man declared, a huge smile on his face.

'All right!' Neal replied just as excited as his friend and neighbour. 'Game on!'

'So, are we still on for dinner tonight?' Jeff asked.

'Yeah, of course. Come by around six, I'm making my world famous linguine with clam sauce' Neal countered.

'I've got a nice bottle of white chilling in the fridge' the man shouted from the street.

'Perfect! We'll see you then' Neal called out before leading Peter into the house.

'Pretty friendly rivalry you've got there' Peter commented as he followed Neal inside.

Neal gave him an eyebrow wag before replying. 'Only on the surface!'

WCWCWC

Having Donna and Jeff Mason over for dinner was a regular thing. Ever since the girls had struck up a friendship, it had become natural to exchange favours: babysitting, sleepovers for the girls, borrowing power tools, shovelling each other's driveways or mowing each other's lawn if one or the other was away. Of all the neighbours on the street, the Caffreys and the Masons had the most in common. They were about the same age and their daughters were two months apart, both professional couples although Donna worked from home in sales. They enjoyed each others' company and there was always a lively discussion whenever they shared a meal. Of course, around the time of year St. Nick made an appearance, things always got a little more strained between Jeff and Neal but both were able to put a good face on things and their wives were always there to keep the mood light if things got a little too tense.

The girls were bunking together up in Hope's room, their laughter echoing through the house and Liam had been sound asleep for the past hour; having dinner a little later was a small price to pay to have a meal amongst adults, without interruptions.

'Neal, that was amazing' Donna said as she swallowed her last bite of pasta.

'Well, I hope you saved room for dessert. I made us an almond torte' Neal said as he got to his feet and started collecting the empty plates.

Loud giggling was heard from upstairs and Donna checked her watch; it was 10:00, time for the girls to hunker down and go to sleep.

'I think that's enough giggling for tonight' Sara said as she got to her feet.

'It's okay, Sara. You stay and chat. I'll go check on them' Jeff offered.

The women moved to the living room and Neal insisted on getting coffee and serving dessert. By the time Jeff returned ten minutes later, calm had resumed and giggling appeared to have ceased for the night.

'You've got quite the touch' Neal said handing Jeff a cup of coffee.

'I just told them that if they didn't shut it down for the night, there would be no more sleepovers.'

'That'll do it' Sara commented. 'Those two are joined at the hip.'

'They seem to be handling this whole competition thing pretty well' Donna said, looking at the two men.

The insinuation was clear enough - although both Neal and Jeff chose to ignore the comment; if the girls could compete for the coveted role in the school play, surely the two of them could learn to compete without animosity.

Jeff cleared his throat, uneasy about the subject. 'Do you have any new pieces, Neal?' he asked.

'Yeah, I've got a couple of new ones. Did you want to see?' Neal asked.

'Sure, I'd love to' Jeff said as the men headed down to the studio to investigate.

It didn't take long after the men had disappeared for the two women to address the elephant in the room.

'Too bad they can't be as reasonable as the girls are' Donna commented once they were alone.

'Tell me about it, this whole thing seems to have ratcheted up a notch now that the competition is going to air on television. Neal is spending every single minute looking for new stuff to put up in the front yard. Frankly… it's embarrassing.'

Donna chuckled. 'Look, at least we know what they're doing. I prefer it to having them out every night doing God knows what.'

'Who's hosting this year, anyway?' Sara asked, referring to the holiday party where the winner was always revealed.

'Myrtle and Charlie' Donna replied.

'Great!' Sara said sarcastically. 'I guess that means more of Myrtle's delicious fruit cake.'

'Ugh!' Donna moaned. 'Well, I guess we'll just have to make sure to bring a lot of booze to help us stomach it.'

'You know, I always loved Christmas when I was a little girl' Sara said, growing nostalgic.

Technically, it was true; before Emily had run away, they'd had wonderful Christmases but after she'd left, there had been a cloak of doom and sadness on the Ellis home and the holiday spirit had never returned.

'But this contest drives me crazy' she continued. 'What is it with men and any kind of competition?'

Donna shrugged. 'I don't know… and then we get the hydro bill in January!'

'Exactly' Sara agreed. 'The December bill is almost as much as the other eleven months of the year put together.'

'Oh, here we go with the whole hydro argument!' Jeff said as the men reappeared. 'No Christmas spirit, these two, Neal.'

Neal nodded; the hydro bill was a small price to pay for the Christmas spirit that the brightly decorated houses on the street contributed to creating. As word got out, an increasing number of families from all over White Plains made their way to their neighbourhood in order to admire the homeowners' handiwork, the men's pride and joy.

The evening wound down without incident - no sign whatsoever of the drama that lay ahead.

WCWCWC

'So, is Jeff interested in buying any of your new pieces?' Sara asked as they finished tidying up.

'Yeah, if I can get it finished by Christmas, he wants to give Donna the one of Liam building a sand castle - you know, the one from the cottage.'

Sara nodded; that was indeed a nice piece and, to be honest, she'd sort of had an eye on it for display in their own family room. But if Neal could sell it and make a few bucks, so be it. There would be plenty of other creations they could keep for themselves.

'You know, it actually crossed my mind he might be interested in it just to keep me busy so I won't focus so much on the house decorating…' Neal mused as he turned to face his wife.

'Neal!' Sara said. 'Now, don't you think you're exaggerating… just a little?'

'What? This is serious stuff, you know. I wouldn't put it past him.'

'Poor little Neal Caffrey…' Sara said playfully as she ran her hand up his chest. 'You are such a decorating genius that the neighbours have to pretend to want to buy your art to keep you from decorating your front yard.'

Neal frowned, unamused. 'Not cool… now, you're just making fun of me' he pouted.

'Awww' Sara said, bringing her lips to his in the hopes of being forgiven. 'How about I give you that little treat you were wanting the other night. Would that make you feel better?'

Neal eyed her up and down suspiciously; he didn't want a mercy roll in the hay.

'That depends' he pouted exaggeratedly, looking away. 'I don't want your pity…'

'Oh no?' Sara asked, pulling him along with her towards the staircase. 'I thought you'd take it any way you can get it' she teased.

'Sara Ellis!' he said, with mock annoyance. 'That's a terrible thing to say to the man who loves you. I'm not some… stud who's here strictly for your sexual pleasure.'

'That's exactly what you are, Caffrey!' she replied provocatively as she took off for the stairs with Neal in hot pursuit, both of them giggling like a couple of teenagers.

Neal checked on the kids, pulling their doors closed behind him before returning to their bedroom, ready for action.

'What are those doing out?' he asked, spying his plan for the front yard laid out on the bed.

'I don't know' Sara said, slipping out of her clothes. 'I assumed you left them out.'

'No' Neal said, his face tightening. 'They were in the closet.'

He looked around the bedroom suspiciously as if a culprit was going to pop out from under the bed. Jeff had been upstairs, checking on the girls. Had he been snooping around to see what Neal had planned for the house decorating contest?

Suddenly, the whole friendly competition thing wasn't feeling so friendly after all.

TBC