A Cross-Country Christmas(44)

St. Nick turned to the elves on either side of him, both with ears as pointy as their shoes. “Not the first case of Christmas spirit gone missing we’ve seen, is it?”

The elves chortled a response, nodding playfully at one another. Off to the side, Mrs. Claus handed out cookies to a little boy who’d just cried his way through the line. At the sight of her, the boy shrieked.

All in all, the place was a zoo, and thanks to Will, she was smack in the middle of it.

“Young lady, is this true?” Santa asked. “You’ve lost your Christmas spirit?”

Lauren forced herself not to roll her eyes. She glanced at Will, who wore a knowing expression that seemed to say go in the corner and think about what you’ve done.

“She’s a little shy, Santa.” Will gave her a patronizing nod.

“So, how can I help?” Santa’s low voice boomed.

“I don’t think you can,” she said. “No offense.”

“Nobody has more Christmas spirit than you, St. Nick,” Will interjected.

Lauren shot him a silent “would you shut up?” and looked back at Santa with a forced smile. “I think I’m fine.”

“Well, then, why don’t you tell me what you want for Christmas?” he asked.

Lauren’s eyes darted back to Will, who looked on like this was the most perfectly normal thing in the world—a grown woman, visiting Santa.

“Come on,” Santa said. “You can whisper it if you don’t want to say it out loud. I’m betting it’s a little more complex than most of the wishes I’ve heard today.”

Slowly, and only because she knew she wasn’t going to get out of it, she moved toward the man in the bright red suit. She leaned toward him, closed her eyes, and said quietly, “I want my pony birthday cake.”

The wish was as ridiculous as the situation. Yet still, a part of her—infinitesimally small—thought there might be a chance she’d open her eyes and it would be sitting there, in Santa’s hands.

He whispered quietly to her, “So, not so different from the other wishes after all.” She leaned back as he smiled broadly. “Anything else?”

I want to love Christmas again, like I did when I had a real family.

“No,” she said. “That’s all.”

“Very well,” Santa said, as if he was a genie granting wishes to everyone who rubbed his lamp.

“Should we get a picture?” one of the elves raced forward and clapped her hands together far too excitedly.

“No, that’s—”

“Definitely,” Will interrupted. He jumped in on the opposite side of Santa and instantly cheesed for the camera, pointing at him with his mouth open like he couldn’t believe he was getting a picture with the real Santa.

The elf snapped a couple of photos, then smiled brightly. “All right, off with you both to find Mrs. Claus and her tray of Christmas cookies.” She spoke to them like they were the same age as everyone else in the line.

“Don’t I get to tell Santa my wish?” Will frowned at the elf.

“Oh, of course, young man.” Her tone reminded Lauren of a preschool teacher. “Go right ahead.”

He shooed Lauren off with the bubbly little elf and took a seat right on the old man’s lap. Santa grunted under the weight of him and the children at the front of the line pointed and giggled. Will leaned toward Santa, cupped a hand in front of his mouth and whispered into the old man’s ear. Santa responded quietly and after a quick conversation, Will clapped him on the shoulder and stood.

“Have yourself a merry Christmas, Santa.” Will gave a quick salute, then joined Lauren off to the side.

“Super-secret Santa business?”

He grinned. “I’ll never tell.

They continued through the village and found Mrs. Claus, a plump, older woman who looked like the grandma in a Christmas movie. “Merry Christmas! Would you like a cookie?” She smiled as she held up a tray.

“These look incredible.” Will reached over and took one. “Did you make these yourself or did you have one of the elves do it for you?”

The old woman laughed. “This is a family recipe.”

He took a bite. “Mmm, it might be the best cookie I’ve ever had.”

Lauren took a cookie and thanked Mrs. Claus, marveling at Will’s joy. She tried to find fault with it, but it felt genuine. He seemed authentically happy to be in that exact place at that exact moment.

They walked over to a small prop house decorated on the outside with large cardboard candies in festive colors. Another elf stood behind a counter, clicking around on a computer.

“Ah-ha, there we go,” the elf said. “Your photos are ready.” He nodded down to an iPad.

“I don’t care what they look like,” Will said. “I’m buying them.”

“I probably had my eyes closed.” Lauren followed him over to the counter. “I usually do.”

But she didn’t have her eyes closed. She wasn’t even looking at the camera. Instead, her eyes were fully open and entirely fixed on Will, a small smile and an undeniable look of admiration on her face. Her stomach bottomed out.

What the. . .?

“It’s great!” Will cheerfully pointed. “You actually look like you don’t hate me.”