Page 14 of The Santa Situation
He looped his pinky through mine. “I know, Jem.” He squeezed my finger. “I know.”
And maybe he did. Maybe, after tonight, there’d be no more pretending we didn’tbothknow what this was.
What itcouldbe.
If we were brave enough to let ourselves finally have it.
five
. . .
Charlie
Santa and Mrs. Claus’sarrival went off like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie.
For a few tense seconds, as the Graymalkin glided toward the dock, the generator sputtered out, casting the harbor into darkness. The crowd gasped, but before I could even reach for my phone, the lights blinked back to life and folks erupted in cheers as snowflakes began to flutter from the sky.
Tessa Pope and her documentary crew couldn’t have scripted a more perfect start to the holiday season in Mistletoe Bay.
From there, everything unfolded perfectly—the brass band struck up “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” as Jemma and I stepped off the boat and onto the dock to make our half-block trek on foot to Market Square. There, I flipped the switch on the prettiest tree Mistletoe Bay had seen in years, and it sparkled to life, the air filling with a chorus ofoohsandahhs.
For the next hour or so, I shook hands and sat there as kids sat on my knee and told me what they wanted for Christmas, all the while pretending my cheeks weren’t freezing beneath my itchy fake beard. Through it all, I kept sneaking glances at Jemma. She’d slipped into the role of Mrs. Claus so effortlessly that it was hard to remember she was a last-minute stand-in. She laughed easily with the children, bent low to listen to their stories, and somehow looked radiant in that ridiculous wig.
And every time she smiled, something in my chest sparked to life.
Maybe it was all that reminiscing earlier with that damn yearbook, or that moment on the boat—the brush of our sleeves, the way her pinky hooked through mine before we docked—but I could no longer deny I was mesmerized by this woman.
Eventually, the crowd for photos with Santa thinned, folks drifting toward home or one of the nearby restaurants or shops. I’d just started to remove my fake beard when a familiar voice called out, “Wait! Two more!”
Maggie and Lilah hurried toward me, their cheeks pink from the cold, Eli and another kid close behind. Eli’s grin was wide and bright in a way I’d never seen it before.
“Come on, Dad,” Maggie said, tugging Lilah closer. “We want a picture with Santa.”
I laughed, settling back into the chair as she handed Eli her phone.
“I thought you said just one,” I joked after he’d taken at least ten pictures of us in various poses.
“Have you met me?” she replied with a chuckle, finally stepping away to review the photos.
I glanced at Eli. “You want a picture with your mom?”
He hesitated for a brief second, his gaze flicking to the boy beside him—tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of confidentposture that screamed “cocky athlete.” But there was something gentler in the way he looked at Jemma’s son. Protective, even.
Eli shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “Would it be okay if we … if Gavin and I got one with both of you?”
Jemma’s face softened instantly, and I swear my chest did the same. “Of course,” she said, reaching for Eli’s arm.
“Absolutely,” I added. “Come on, you two.”
The four of us squeezed together in front of the tree, our breath clouding the cold air. When Lilah’s phone flashed, I glanced down to see Gavin’s hand find Eli’s. He laced their fingers together and lifted his chin a fraction higher, shoulders squaring like he’d just decided to stop hiding from the world. He met my eyes with an unspoken challenge, or maybe a plea—to see them, to see him, and not look away.
Something in me broke open then. Gavin’s was the kind of display that reminded you people could still be brave and good in this world. That sometimes strength didn’t shout … it simply stood its ground.
Of course I didn’t look away.Couldn’t. Because watching that kind of quiet honesty, that willingness to reach for what you wanted without apology, made something click hard and certain in my chest.
Maybe it was time I did the same.
“Thanks, Mayor,” Gavin said as they stepped away, his voice quiet but steady.
