Page 94 of Never Sleigh Never
“Totally believable!” she squeals.
I jab a finger toward a stack of throw pillows. “Hand me those.” She passes them over, and I shove them under my sweater, puffing out my belly until I look less jolly old elf and more lopsided snowman. “Hmm. Kind of looks like Santa needs medical attention.” I squish the pillows around, trying to smooth the lumps. “Maybe the jacket will cover it?”
Willa hands me the beard, and I hook it over my ears. She fluffs the synthetic strands, then steps back, pursing her lips. “Maybe Santa’s on a diet. Mrs. Claus told him no more cookies.” She shrugs.
“Ugh.” I flop onto a chair, burying my face in my hands. The fake beard tickles my palms. “Why did I ever think this would work?”
Willa’s phone chimes with the message. “Santa’s at the workshop!”
My head snaps up. “Wait—what? Scott? He made it?”
“All Sloane says is Santa’s there.”
I shoot out of the chair, yanking off the beard, coat, and pillows in record time. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” We dash across the festival, cutting through the crowd. Parents and kids line the paths, craning their necks, waiting for the sleigh’s grand arrival. “Change of plans, everyone!” I shout, waving my arms. “Santa’s already at the workshop and eager to see you! Follow me!” The line snakes all the way to the hot cocoa stand by the time we get there. I stand at the front of the crowd, waving my hands until the chattering fades. “Alright, I’m just going to go check and see if Santa’s ready to take all your wish lists!”
I push open the door and peek inside. There he is, perched in the big red chair like he’s been waiting all along. “Oh my god, I’m so happy you made it. I was five seconds from cardiac arrest.” My gaze drops automatically to his leg. “Where’s your boot? Did you not need one after all?”
He gives me a hearty ho ho ho!
“Okay, not very chatty,” I mumble. “Guess you’re really leaning into the character.” I admire the enthusiasm.
I push open the door, and children from two to ten rush inside. All afternoon, Santa chats with the kids as they tell him all their last-minute Christmas wishes and get a picture taken. I pass out candy canes as they leave. By the end of the afternoon, the workshop is buzzing with holiday magic. To call it a Christmas miracle would be an understatement. This is more than a miracle. It’s a miraclemas.
But as I watch Santa pose for another photo, my chest tightens with a thought I can’t shake. What’s the point of getting exactly what I want… if it isn’t him?
Thirty-One
There’s No Santa!
Logan
“Dad! Dad! Dad!” Josie barrels into the makeshift dressing room.
I wrestle the red coat onto my shoulders and glance down. “Whoa, what’s all the dads for?”
Her boots squeak to a stop. Eyes wide. “Dad! There’s no Santa!”
Confusion takes over as I stare down at my outfit. “Santa?” I point to myself.
“No! Not you!” Josie whines. “The festival. Brie doesn’t have a Santa. I overheard Amanda talking about it.”
“Shit,” I mutter.
“What do we do?” Josie throws her hands up like the world’s ending. “She needs a Santa.”
And she’s right. No Santa equals no promotion for Brie. And Brie deserves that damn promotion. I can’t let that happen, not if I can help it. “Jump in the truck. Santa’s relocating. She needs a Santa more than we do.” Josie beams up at me. Outside, I flag down the first volunteer I see. “Tell everyone Santa’s overbooked. He’s now at the Holly Jolly Festival.”
The girl blinks at me like I’ve grown a third eye but nods. “O-okay.”
Minutes later, Josie and I are fishtailing down the snowy road in my truck.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I really like Brie.”
The corners of my lips curve into a smile. I more than like her. “Me too.” Josie smiles at me before turning her attention to the window as Mount Holly flashes by.
