Page 109 of Sexted By Santa
His eyes went wide, and he grinned. “What now?”
I opened my velvet bag of gifts. “Pick out a gift.”
“Any gift?”
“Yep. You choose the gift.”
He reached in, pulled out a small square box, and said, “Thanks—”
I snatched it from his hand. “Ah-ah. You’re the elf. You don’t keep the gift.”
Under my breath, as the kids gasped and giggled, I explained, “You’ll get another one, don’t worry.”
He nodded in understanding, and I returned to the game I’d made up in the spur of the moment. “Duck, duck, duck, duck, elf!”
I stopped before a little girl with whisps of blond hair, seated in her mother’s lap. She looked tired and listless, but she had a small smile for me. “What’s your name, little elf?”
“Cassie,” she whispered.
I held out the gift. “This is for you, Cassie. A gift chosen by a very special elf.” I winked in the direction of the boy.
“Thank you.”
I held open the bag. “Will you choose one for me to pass on?”
She reached into the bag eagerly and came up with an oddly triangular-shaped gift. I had no idea what was in the wrapping paper, but I trusted Henry’s efforts enough to know all the gifts would be quality items. Nothing too cheap or unsuitable for kids under twelve.
“A good selection, elf Cassie. Thank you.”
Cassie leaned forward before I could move on. “Can you give it to my friend, the girl with red hair? Samantha?”
I glanced around, then spotted a little girl close in age to Cassie. She sat in a wheelchair, looking as fragile as spun glass. My heart ached just to see her.
Even knowing Tori for such a short time had given me the capacity to understand what it must feel like to be a parent. The pain of watching your child suffer would be devastating. It made me all the more grateful that Tori would be okay. As difficult as diabetes could be to manage—as scary and as life-threatening—Tori could still have a full life.
“Good choice. I’ll go deliver the gift.” I started to stand, but Cassie grasped my arm.
“Wait!”
“What is it?”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Can you make her better instead? Santa’s magic, so maybe…you could make the cancer go away?”
Oh, Jesus. I exchanged a stricken look with her mother as my heart twisted in my chest.
“Oh, honey…” Her mother said, trailing off as if lost for words.
“I’m sorry, Cassie,” I said gently. “Santa doesn’t have that kind of magic.”
Her face fell. “Oh.”
“But each of you has your own magic.”
Her brow creased in confusion. “We do?”
I nodded. “Just as powerful. More, even. You have the power to keep fighting, the power to keep loving your friends and family, just the way you love Samantha, and that’s its own kind of magic.”
Cassie’s mom quietly dashed away a tear that leaked from the corner of her eye, but she smiled at me.
