The Twelve Days of Dash & Lily(38)

I took my place in the highest balcony of the otherwise empty opera house. Langston, Sofia, Boomer, Mrs. Basil E., Dov, and Yohnny were all texting me from afar to see how it was going. I gave them a quick update, then turned off my phone.

I almost didn’t hear the door opening. From my perch, I couldn’t see Lily at first—only when she walked down the aisle toward the stage. She held the red Moleskine in one hand, Joey McIntyre in the other. From so far away, it was hard to read her expression.

There was a single spotlight haloing the tree. Lily walked the stairs to the stage, then looked around to see if anyone else was there. The spotlight narrowed to focus on a single present, and Lily stepped toward it. If you squinted, you could imagine she was Clara, woken on Christmas morning. When you opened your eyes, you could see that she was grown-up, nearly an adult. But with the same wonder showing in her movements, because that’s not something you have to grow out of.

I had wrapped the box with the recipe for lebkuchen cookies. Inside was another box, wrapped in quotations from Baby Be-Bop. Then another box, with wrapping paper I’d saved from FAO Schwarz. And an even smaller box, wrapped in a newspaper advertisement for Corgi & Bess. Finally, the smallest box of all, with her name on its lid in my handwriting.

She opened it. Took out the envelope. Opened the card and read the two words I’d written before signing my name. A gift card fell out of it. She took a look, saw where it was from and what the amount was.

Smiled.

Then, as if knowing I would want to be there to see her smile, she looked up. I thought for sure I’d be caught, and wasn’t sure whether or not that was a bad thing. But as her eyes lifted into the eaves, the lights on the stage burst alive and Tchaikovsky began to play. Startled, Lily pulled back to the tree.

The snowdrop fairies began to dance.

This was my favorite part of the ballet. I knew it would be Lily’s favorite part. The giddy swirl of dancers mimicking the movements of snow in the air. And then, as the music swelled, a leap into the air…outstretched arms…and snow. Paper snow shooting from their fingertips. Paper snow filling the air, covering the stage.

I knew this was my cue to leave. I knew I needed a head start for the last piece of the puzzle. But I had to stand there and watch. I had to see Lily—holding her brother’s prize possession, full of hot chocolate from her grandfather, guided here by friends and family alike. If this didn’t make her happy, maybe I never could. If this didn’t bring her back from the darker places into the more colorful ones, maybe I was too late.

But I wasn’t too late. Even from the highest balcony, I could see.

With the stealth of a chimney dropper, I tiptoed from the theater. I turned my phone back on and sent out a group message.

It’s a wonderful life.

—

I knew the last part of the plan would be the most challenging. But I was wrong in diagnosing what the challenges would actually be.

I had thought Santa would be the problem, but it ended up being the elf.

I met Lily’s creepy Great-Uncle Sal in a Macy’s changing room. I was wearing my street clothes. He was wearing his Santa uniform.

“We have to do this quickly,” he said. “You go out there, you do your thing with Lily, and then you get right back here, okay?”

“Fine,” I told him, wishing I’d rented my own suit. (I’d called three places the night before; they were all out.) “I’ll just wait in the changing room next door, and you can pass the suit through the curtain.”

“No, no,” he said, starting to shimmy out of his Santa top. “Right here, right now.”

The changing room wasn’t big enough for the two of us. I could smell Santa’s sweat. I could feel it in the air.

I had known from my last interaction with this Santa that he wouldn’t be wearing an undershirt under his Santa jacket. But still, knowing it and seeing it were two very different things. Because being forced to touch Santa’s large, hairy belly to get an envelope from Lily was nothing compared to seeing it in the fleshiest fleshly flesh. Not only did it look like a hirsute whale rising upright from a skin-colored ocean, but there was also a tattoo—two words—YES, VIRGINIA. Only, the fold of Santa’s tummy cut off the last two letters.

I took Santa’s coat and threw it over my head, if only to cover my eyes. It was far too big for me, but that was okay—I wasn’t going for accuracy here, only effect. When I got it in place, I looked over and saw Santa had removed his red pants, revealing candy-cane-patterned boxer shorts.

Santa caught me looking and murmured, “You like?”

I grabbed the pants out of his hands and quickly tried to put them on. But in focusing on speed, I took my eye off of balance, and as I got my second leg in, I began to wobble…and found myself falling right into Santa’s chest.

“Ho ho ho!” he cried, delighted.

“No no no!” I cried back.

I tried to pull my pants up and pull my body back, but I didn’t do it fast enough. Because right when I leaned to clear the second pant leg over my sneaker, the door to the changing room whipped open and an elf shouted, “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!?”

And not just any elf—

Santa’s number one helper.

We’d scuffled a year ago, and here we were again.

“OUTRAGE!” he called out. “OUTRAGE IN CHANGING ROOM FOUR!”