A Gift For Santa. Beth Carpenter
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gave a maniacal laugh. “You should hear some of Oliver’s stories. A friend of his from Santa school had a diaper leak all over his lap.”
Now that was disgusting. The only child Chris had spent much time around was his little sister, and he couldn’t remember her doing anything along those lines.
He grimaced. “You know, I never graduated from Santa school. I don’t want to get in trouble for practicing without a proper license or anything.”
“Too late now. The children are counting on you.” Her grin was pure evil. “Besides, you promised Becky. Get dressed. I’ll check back in a few minutes.”
Fifteen minutes later, Chris examined himself in the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. Amazing. Santa Claus looked back at him, blue eyes twinkling beneath white eyebrows. Padding filled out the plush red costume under the wide black belt. Fortunately, he’d worn black snow boots, because he never would have fit his feet into those patent leather booties.
He looked the part. Now the question was could he play the part? No one had ever taken him to see Santa when he was a kid, so he didn’t have that experience to fall back on. He’d been to a few parties where Oliver was working, but never paid much attention to how he did his job. Oliver just seemed to treat the kids with the same gentle enthusiasm as he did everyone, and they adored him. He loved playing Santa. Poor guy. He must be down with a nasty flu or something to miss the biggest party of the year.
Chris wrinkled his nose and patted the stiff plastic lining of the pants, hoping he wouldn’t need it. Surely Marissa was exaggerating. All those stories were just to torture him for defying her and agreeing to Becky’s request. No doubt if he’d declined, Marissa would have held that against him, too. There was no winning with her. She expected the whole world to fall in with her plans. You’d think she would have outgrown that by now.
If it were just Marissa, he’d take the hint and leave her to solve the problem on her own, but Becky deserved better. She and Oliver had made Chris feel truly welcomed from the very first time they met, when Marissa had brought him home to meet the couple who’d raised her. Even after the split, Chris would run into them now and again, and they greeted him like a long-lost relative.
A knock sounded, and the door opened a crack. “Are you decent?”
Chris glanced toward the mirror again. “Only my hands and eyes are showing.”
Marissa walked in, wearing white tights, a red dress trimmed with white faux fur, and a matching stocking cap with a jingle bell on the end. More bells jingled from the turned-up toes of her shoes as she stepped into the room. Chris grinned.
She shot him a look. “Don’t say a word.”
He chuckled. “For an elf, you’re awfully bossy. Come on. Let’s get jolly.”
* * *
THEY’D BEEN AT it for two hours, but it looked like they’d finally worked their way to the end of the line. Chris watched Marissa climb the step of the platform and deposit another child on his lap. He’d lost count along the way, but it felt as if he’d interacted with a thousand or so little people so far. They’d had a few meltdowns, but Marissa was good at assessing whether they wanted her encouragement to approach him or just needed to put some distance between themselves and the scary man with the beard.
He smiled at the girl on his lap. “What would you like for Christmas?”
She just stared up at him, her little mouth forming an O, her dark eyes wide. Chris tried again. “You’ve been a good girl, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” She reached up to touch his beard, stiff from all the white dye. “It’s real,” she whispered.
He gave a gentle “Ho, ho, ho. What would you like Santa to bring you?”
A confident smile bloomed on her face. “An Elsa doll and a big elephant.”
Chris’s chest rocked with suppressed laughter. “You mean a stuffed elephant.”
She shook her head, her eyes solemn. “No, a real one I can ride, with long tooths and a trunk.”
Chris looked over to her parents for guidance, but they only shrugged. He turned back to the girl. “I’m not sure I have room for an elephant in my sleigh. Besides, where would you keep him?”
“In my room.”
“Hmm. That could get a little messy. I’ll have to think about it, but I’ll make a note. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with what you find under the tree on Christmas morning. Now, smile at Elf Marissa and she’ll take our picture.”
The girl beamed at Marissa, accepted her candy cane and skipped off with her parents. Chris hoped she didn’t have her heart set on a live elephant. He looked to Marissa for the next child, but no one seemed to be in line.
A small boy stood to one side, peering at him from behind his mother.
Marissa smiled at the boy. “Would you like to sit on Santa’s lap?”
He shook his head and ducked behind his mom. Chris got down from his big chair and sat on the step, looking toward the windows instead of at the boy. “You know, Elf Marissa, if someone wanted to give me a message, they wouldn’t have to sit on my lap. They could just whisper it in my ear.”
Marissa cocked her head at the boy. “What do you think? Do you want to whisper something to Santa?”
The little guy leaned out from behind his mother’s legs to look at Chris, but hid again and shook his head.
Marissa pressed her finger against her chin. “Or maybe they could whisper the message to me, and I could pass it on. What do you think, Santa?”
Chris couldn’t resist teasing her. “I don’t know. That’s a big responsibility for an elf.” He glanced over at the boy. “Do you think we can trust her to get it right?”
The little boy bobbed his head eagerly. Chris smiled. “All right, then.”
Without hesitation, the boy hurried to Marissa. She bent so that her face was level with his, and he whispered something in her ear. She motioned his mother over and the three of them huddled together for a minute. When the boy looked up, Chris offered him a candy cane. After a little encouragement from his mother, he crept toward Chris while she and Marissa watched and whispered.
Without making eye contact, the boy took the candy from Chris’s hand. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“You’re very welcome. Merry Christmas.”
The boy ran back to his mom, but turned to smile and wave at Chris before disappearing into the crowd with her. Marissa came to sit beside Chris on the step. “I think he was the last.”
“Good, but don’t you have a message for me?”
She laughed. “Taking your duties pretty seriously there, Santa. Yes, Noah wants his dad home for Christmas, and from what his mom tells me he’s going to get his wish.”
“Military?”
She nodded. “A few months apart must feel like years when you’re that small.”
“His mom looked excited, too. I’m glad they’ll be together for Christmas.”
Marissa turned to him, but quickly glanced away again. Was she remembering, as he was, their last Christmas together? Snuggled up next to the fire, the air spiced with peppermint and evergreen and the light flowery scent that clung to her hair. Warm laughter and cookie-flavored kisses. Back then, he’d believed it was the beginning of a lifetime together. He was wrong.
He stood abruptly. “So now what?”
She rose and faced him. “You’re done. Just leave the costume on the hanger.” She paused, and then continued in a formal voice. “Thank you for your help. Have a nice Christmas.”
“Santa.” Becky came bouncing