Page 39 of The Grumpiest Elf

“But Mom!” she protests.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Claus,” I put in, unable to address her by her real name while she’s still in costume. “I’m almost done.”

“I know, dear,” she tells me. “All the more reason to let her finish alone.”

Dylan steps behind me and rests his hand on the small of my back. “It’s best not to argue with Mom,” he loud whispers in a voice that’s designed to carry to his mother. To her, he asks, “Did Lydia tell you she has an elf name now?”

Mrs. Claus’s gaze sharpens on her son. “No,” she says slowly, “she didn’t.” She takes in the way he’s standing with me, not like she didn’t notice before, but like maybe she’s just realizing something significant about it. “What is it?”

Dylan glances at me. “Holly. Holly Sparkleflakes.”

His mom claps. “Oh, that’s perfect. Yes. I approve.” She gives us both a wide smile, then says thoughtfully, “You know, usually it’s only family members who get elf names.”

Dylan shrugs off her comment. “It was last night at the party while we were working with the kids. She used my elf name, so that meant she needed one too.”

“Ah,” Mrs. Claus says. “Of course. Makes sense.” But the way she says it sounds like she doesn’t believe that’s all it was.

“It’s true,” I put in, needing her to understand. “I told the kids that Elfie would read them stories, and Dylan announced that they could go with Holly to make snowflakes. It was very spur of the moment.”

Mrs. Claus nods, turning as Santa walks in. “Did you hear, dear? Lydia’s elf name is Holly Sparkleflakes.”

His eyebrows lift, and he studies Dylan and me. “Well. Isn’t that something,” he says, his eyes lingering on his son. “Big plans tonight?”

“Just dinner,” Dylan answers, voice gruff, and I give him a confused look. There’s something happening here that I’m not entirely sure I’m catching.

“Yup. Just dinner.” Though I hadn’t thought about it as ajustanything. Still, I guess dinner isn’t really a huge event. It’s not like … I dunno, a week away on a tropical island. That would be more of a big plan. Or even some kind of actual event, rather than a meal.

Santa steers Mrs. Claus toward the back exit of the workshop. “You kids have fun. And don’t get caught behind any downed trees tonight.”

“We’ll do our best,” Dylan says, his voice tinged with sarcasm that has his dad chuckling.

“Are you guys really going to leave me to finish on my own?” Nora whines, sounding like she’s about to start a real pout fest.

Dylan turns to face her, eyebrow arching high on his forehead. “If you’d been working the whole time we were talking, you’d be done already.”

She huffs and drops her arms, stomping over to the computer to finish cleaning the desk while everything powers down.

Dylan rolls his eyes, then moves to the throne area to pick up the books there. I join him, and we make short work of it. Standing, he surveys everything, gives a nod of satisfaction and turns to me. “Ready?”

I grin. “Ready.”

* * *

I change quickly in the locker room, painfully aware that Dylan’s waiting for me just outside. But no way am I going on a date in my elf costume. Even if I do think it’s cute, it’s not date appropriate.

I’m touching up my makeup in the mirror when Nora comes in to get her coat out of her locker.

“Look at you, all dressed up to go out with my brother,” she says, the tone of her voice sounding almost sarcastic, and I can’t tell if she’s being mean to me or him or both.

Turning, I give her a confused look, and she sighs, flipping a hand.

“Sorry.” She sighs again. “I’m being bitchy, and it has nothing to do with you. Ignore me.”

“Everything alright?” I ask, because she seemed fine earlier, but it’s possible that was just an act since she was at work.

She nods, shakes her head, then shrugs. “It will be,” she says. “It’s just … strange.” Pulling her coat out, she closes her locker slowly. “Dylan’s not usually like this.”

“I kinda picked up on that,” I say with a laugh. “He seemed happy to be here tonight.”

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