I felt that my revenge on Mrs. Thornton was complete, and there was nothing else I needed to do.I was nearly home when I heard a voice calling to me. ...BILLY WESTON, ARE YOU TOO BUSY TO HELP ME WITH A PROBLEM THIS MORNING?"I turned to see who was calling me, and it was Mrs. Jackson, currently my favorite customer. I walked over to where she was standing on her front porch. "Sure, I can help you, Mrs. Jackson. What do you need for me to do?" Come into the house, and I will show you." I followed. Other than hitting an air pocket while applying makeup the job was simplicity itself.Santa began to smooth her skirt and I emerged from my reverie and remembered I was the host here and offered Santa the traditional milk and cookies. Hefting the pack of gifts over her shoulder, Santa followed me into the kitchen, where we talked for what seemed like hours. The same magic that hid the beard shadow evidently worked on clocks too, as the hand of the clock over the stove never moved the whole time. More

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