Chapter 14: Correspondence, Part 1

When Maevis stopped by later that evening, she found Serendipity fast at work as usual. She was certainly not in a talkative mood either, not that she usually was, but on this particular night, she only made the occasional grunting noise to either agree or disagree with Maevis's questions. This was particularly true when it came to Maevis's inquiries about whether or not there had been any follow up to the letter she had discovered earlier.?She had asked almost immediately if one of St. Nicholas's assistants had ever come to speak with her. Serendipity had made an awful noise in the back of her throat, one Maevis took as either a stern "no" or a complete refusal to discuss the matter, so she had dropped the subject, no matter how badly the urge to press further raged within her.

After a few more minor attempts at starting a conversation, Maevis finally made an ethereal noise of her own, and crossing her arms sternly said, "Fine then. I guess I shall leave you in peace with your little friends." It wasn't as if she didn't have better ways to spend her evening than standing in the cottage attempting to speak with someone who clearly didn't want her there.

Maevis turned toward the door to leave but realized something was different. It was then that she realized that only a few of the mice that Serendipity kept as pets were actually out and about--and none of them looked quite as familiar as they should--she added, "Where is Pozzletot? Have the two of you had a tiff?"

Serendipity paused, paintbrush in the air hovering over the face she was working on.?Her head snapped around to look at Maevis. She glanced at the table, then at the floor, her eyebrows knitting together in curiosity. She slowly began to shake her head. "He must be angry at me again. I haven't seen him for hours, not since." She stopped mid-sentence, catching herself before she could say something she would regret.

But Maevis was too quick. "Not since what?" she asked, her hand on her hip, eyeing Serendipity carefully. It seemed Serendipity was keeping something from her after all.

Serendipity glanced at her friend, attempting to read her face. Maevis made it clear that she was suspicious, hoping it would be enough to make Serendipity say more, but he doll maker decided to play nonchalant. "Nothing. Not since earlier, since I stopped for a bite to eat. That's all."

Maevis was not convinced. She looked around the room carefully. Was there anything out of place? Did anything appear to be in an unusual position? No, everything looked fairly normal. Then, looking over toward the door, something caught her attention. She hurried over for a closer inspection. There on the roughly hewn wooden floor was a large footprint, one that was much too sizable to be her own or Serendipity's, and it looked as if it belonged to a man's boot! "Serendipity! You've had a visitor!" she exclaimed, whirling around to look at her charge, her shawl spinning about like a cape.

"Don't be ridiculous, Maevis. I've had no such thing," Serendipity insisted, stabbing her paintbrush into the jar of water and dropping the doll head onto the table a little more violently than she should have.

The housekeeper knew her far too well to believe that was the truth. "Yes, you have had a visitor!" Maevis insisted, both hands on her hips now as she took the two steps back over toward the table. "There's a footprint on the floor, and it's much too large for you or me!" With these words, she pointed in the direction of the muddy footprint, which was almost indiscernible in the dimly lit room--but it was there; she was sure of it.

"You're imagining things," Serendipity insisted, her nose in the air. "No man has been in my chambers--ever."

"Why do you lie, child?" Maevis asked, her hands flailing wildly in a gesture of frustration. "Was it an elf? One of Santa's helpers?" She couldn't imagine an elf with such large feet, but then, she'd never seen one for herself.

"No," Serendipity huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "It was just some man in a red suit. That's all. And he was only here for a few moments. He was from the village I'm sure of it. He wasn't from the North Pole. And he was just here to poke fun and ridicule me. I let him in for a moment--only a brief moment--because he insisted he needed a drink of water. And then I sent him out again post haste!"

Maevis puckered her lips as she often did when she was in deep thought. After a moment, she asked, "You let a man in here?"

"Yes."

"Some strange man in a red suit?"

"Yes."

"But he did ask you to go to the North Pole with him?"

Serendipity nodded.

"And you told him no?"

"Of course."

Maevis was thinking again. She began to stroke her chin with her thumb and first finger, her other arm crossed over her waist.?"And when you refused, he simply left?"

"Yes."

Maevis shook her head unable to believe a single word of what she was hearing. But Serendipity did not see her. She had already turned back to her work, no doubt hoping that ignoring the questioner would make the questions stop, and she could return to her work in peace.

"How did he get here?"

"I don't know."

"How did he get in?"

"I told you. I let him in," she said over her shoulder.

"You just opened the door?"

"Yes."

"Since when do you open the door to anyone?"

"Since he was banging on my door, and I knew he wasn't going to just go away. However, I wish you would. Can't you see how very busy I am?"

After a deep sigh, Maevis replied, "Fine. But what are you going to do if he comes back?"

"He won't be coming back, I assure you," Serendipity replied, glancing briefly over her shoulder at her friend. "You may let yourself out."