The next moment, Harry dropped Eve’s hand and ran up to a well-dressed gentleman who was just coming out of the department store. He carried a brightly wrapped box tied with a silver bow. “Will you be our daddy?” Harry asked him.

“Harry!” Eve gasped, horrified.

“Mine, too! Mine, too!” Bobby echoed, running to the man.

A tide of heat rushed to Eve’s face as she hurried over to apologize to the gentleman and yank her son away. But before she could utter a sound, the man crouched down to talk to the boys. “Hello, Harry and Bobby. Are you here to see Santa Claus?” Eve recognized him then. Mr. Hamilton was the leader of their Boys’ Club at church. But she was still horribly embarrassed. And judging by her friend’s expression, Audrey was too.

“Yeah. We were going to show Santa all the toys we wanted in the Wish Book,” Harry told him, “but Mommy made us leave it in the car.”

“I hope I can remember everything.” Bobby wore his fretful look again.

Mr. Hamilton smiled. “I’m sure you’ll remember the important things.” He was probably in his midthirties and movie-star handsome. When millions of American GIs had landed in England during the war, Eve and Audrey and all the other women used to comment on how handsome the American men were —and here was another one, not wearing a uniform but a very expensive-looking overcoat, fedora, and cashmere scarf.

He stood again as the high school marching band approached playing “Jingle Bells.”

“It’s starting! The parade is starting!” Harry said, hopping up and down. “And we don’t have a daddy!”

Mr. Hamilton gave Audrey and Eve a questioning look, as if not understanding.

“To boost them up,” Eve said quickly, gesturing to the families around them.

“I see. I’ll be glad to help.” He handed his package to Audrey and crouched again, then lifted up both boys, one in each arm. Mr. Hamilton was a big man, tall and broad-shouldered, as solid as a Frigidaire. He looked as though he could easily manage two boys.

“But . . . I’m sure Mr. Hamilton needs to get home to his family and —” Audrey began.

“I don’t mind at all,” he said with a smile.

“Well . . . thank you. You can put them down whenever you get tired,” Eve said.

Fire engines rolled past, red lights flashing. Prancing horses carried Roy Rogers and Hopalong Cassidy look-alikes shooting cap pistols. The mayor waved from inside a Model A Ford strung with fairy lights. Local business owners towed homemade floats with Christmas decorations and pretty high school girls singing carols. Santa’s elves gave out candy canes to the children along the way. Then Santa Claus himself arrived, his sleigh pulled by a shiny new John Deere tractor.

“Hey! Where are all his reindeer?” Harry asked.

“Maybe they’re resting up for their big night,” Mr. Hamilton replied.