Page 56 of The Grumpiest Elf

Chuckling, I shake my head. “Nope. I’m next. You can make your own.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Lydia

When I arrive at work,I’m surprised that I’m the first one there. Maybe Dylan’s running a few minutes late? We usually show up about the same time, and I’d even texted him to let him know I was on my way in.

As I’m putting my things in my locker, my phone vibrates with a response from him.

Dylan

Traded shifts with Nora. I’ll see you this afternoon. We can go out somewhere after if you want

My belly swoops in disappointment that I won’t get to see him as soon as expected, but then rises again at the thought of spending all that time with him with no breaks.

I definitely want

I’m already out getting everything organized for the day when Nora arrives. She waves at me from the door and heads for the locker room. She shows up already in costume, though, so it doesn’t take her long to stow her outerwear and purse and come out, grinning.

“Morning!” she chirps, moving to the computer and turning it on. “Same split as usual? You on camera and I’ll do this part?”

I return her smile. “Yup. That’s what I figured you’d want.”

“So,” she says after a moment, drawing out the word, “you and Dylan, huh?”

Straightening from the stuffed animal pile, I raise an eyebrow, but I can’t keep the smile off my face just from thinking about him. And last night. “What about me and Dylan?”

She sighs. “You’re together?”

Laughing, I nod. It’s obvious she knows already, so I’m not sure why she’s acting like it’s a question. “Yeah.”

She grins. “Good for you. And thank you. I’m giving you credit for the change in his bad attitude.” She lays a hand over her heart, her face emanating sincerity. “Believe me when I tell you that our whole family appreciates it more than we can adequately express.”

Chuckling, I resume organizing everything and getting it ready for the day. “Happy to help,” I tell her, though I’m not sure it’s all me. I mean, yeah, I’ve noticed that he’s happier since we’ve gotten together too, and based on the giddy elationIfeel, I think it’s at least partly attributable to the new relationship excitement. But he’s had some good realizations of his own, and I’d like to think that he’d have a better attitude about all of this regardless of our relationship status.

The morning flies by. As Christmas approaches, the days are getting more crowded, and Nora assures me it’ll only get worse once school lets out in a few days when we have our mid morning break. “All the parents who waited until the last minute to get their Santa photos in will be showing up. We’re almost completely booked for the rest of the week already. This weekend will be nuts. Just wait.”

Wrinkling my nose, I grimace. “Yaaay,” I say in a small voice, and she laughs.

“We’ll survive,” she assures me, patting my shoulder. “We have so far, anyway, so there’s no reason to think we won’t again.” With a deep, bracing breath, she turns and faces the milling throngs of ChristmasFest. “Once more into the breach,” she intones, not quite hitting the line from Shakespeare.

Laughing, I follow her back out.

* * *

Even though the second half of the day is just as busy, I feel more relaxed than I did during the morning. Maybe it’s because the anticipation of seeing Dylan had me more keyed up. Or maybe it’s because his very presence relaxes me.

It always has, I realize as we finish with our last customers of the day. Even when I was keeping my distance because I thought he was kind of a dick, working with him always felt less frenetic and more relaxing than working with Nora. Don’t get me wrong, I like Nora, and she’s a fun coworker, but Dylan provides a stable background presence that makes me feel grounded and able to push through, even with difficult kids and parents swarming us.

And with about a week until Christmas, everyone’s more frazzled and fraying at the edges than they were even a week ago. The littlest kids are harder to coax smiles out of, the parents are more irritated that their kids won’t smile or with the cost of the packages or the fact that they can’t take their own photos on their phones instead.

With Dylan here, it’s easier to keep my calm and professional demeanor. And it’s extra helpful that when we’re done, I know he’ll pull me into the locker room, wrap me in his arms, and hold me until I let out a deep sigh like he did during our short break earlier.

And then, we’ll get to go somewhere together. Where exactly that’ll be is still up in the air. We didn’t come to any conclusions when we talked on our break, and we’ve been so slammed that conversation about anything other than work has been impossible.

“Merry Christmas!” I tell the parents of the overtired toddler who’s still squealing and squirming in their arms as they try to carry him out. He didn’t want to sit on Santa’s lap for the picture. He didn’t want to stand next to Santa, though when Santa got down on the floor with books and toys, he managed to get the kid close enough and engaged enough that I got some decent shots. And now that it’s time to go, the kid doesn’t want to leave.

The mom gives me an attempt at a smile that looks more like a grimace as she carries her squirming offspring away, and I sag against Dylan, who’s stepped up behind me. “If that’s what kids are like,” I murmur, “I’m not sure I want to have any.”

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