Page 41 of Run, Run Rudolph
“We’ll sober up.”
Seriously, he was dragging his feet like a naughty kindergartener who was afraid to speak to the principal.
The elf, his delighted cackles partially carried away by the wind, began to sing, “Rudolph’s going on the naughty list!”
“I feel better, and nothing is broken,” Rudolph said. “We’ll get home before anyone has to know we left.”
I bit my tongue. It had taken some effort to get Rudolph back in the car again, thanks to his hurt leg, and I was certain we’d added new hoof scratches down poor Benjamin’s side panel. In other words, it didn’t seem as though Rudolph was flying anywhere in the immediate future.
“She’s gonna know you snuck out and played stupid reindeer games!” Snarky hollered. I could hear him surprisingly well, and I realized he’d pushed down the small divider in the middle of the back seat that acted as a pass through into the trunk, as well as an armrest and cup holder for the rear passengers. He wasn’t able to lower it all the way because of Rudolph, but he’d opened it enough that he could press his nose and one eye through the opening to see what was going on in the cab.
“What’s he talking about?” I asked Rudolph.
“I’m going on the naughty list,” he said glumly.
“Santa’s bad-kid list? Why? Because you snuck out? Is he a mean boss, worthy of one of those reality TV shows, or something?”
“No. The naughty list,” he repeated.
I really needed a handbook, because I was starting to get an uneasy feeling in my stomach, not unlike when I ate too much raw cookie dough.
“Right. Well. We’re not kids any longer.” Sure, I still believed in Santa and the spirit of Christmas, but not some list of bad people that Santa would skip over. I was a grownup, and Santa didn’t even bring me gifts any longer.
I blinked. Was that because I was already on his naughty list?
Wait. No. I didn’t know any adults who still got gifts from Santa.
Maybe we were all on the naughty list for no longer believing in him?
But I still believed. So why would I be on the naughty list?
Oh, right. For throwing bags of chips at Kade when we had our break-up fight in the grocery store. But it had been so satisfying in the moment to take him off balance like that. His surprise at seeing my spine at long last, and my willingness to stand up for myself instead of shying away from conflict and going with the flow. His expression was one I’d never forget.
Except I hadn’t been getting Santa gifts even before that fight….
None of this added up.
“You don’t want to be on that list.” Rudolph was giving me sad reindeer eyes. I kind of wanted to hug him, ruffle his fur, and soothe him.
“I’m sure we can explain everything. It was one big accident, and we’re doing our best, right?”
From what I could see, his furry-faced expression grew even more bleak.
He seemed so blue, I momentarily doubted my vow against accepting Estelle’s costly fairy godmother help.
“I was drunk, and shouldn’t have been on the road.” Rudolph sighed so heavily I was surprised he didn’t throw a dramatic collapse in as well.
“Maybe you don’t know about cars and roads? You know, being from the North Pole?”
“He knows about roads!” Snarky hollered. “He was acting as dumb as a candy cane! His brain’s nickname is shortbread. Get it? As in short on brain cells?”
I heard the chomp of a large set of teeth clapping against each other, as if they’d tried to connect with something.
“Missed me,” Snarky gloated.
“What were you doing on the road?” I asked Rudolph, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“We were playing a game.”
