Rudy and Kris

by Elle Rush

  “They’re pretty wide shoulders. I’ve got this. If I hit any snags, I’ll ask Jennifer for help.”

  “You can call me, too.”

  “You’re even busier than I am. It’ll be fine.” He refused to let her worry about it. “Let’s finish our cocoa and take another loop around the rink. One of us has an early bedtime, which works out great for me because I need to arrange a post-party and post-contract date that will be some place with central heating and a fireplace,” Rudy said. He tapped the brim of her toque.

  Having a couple extra hours to work on the party wouldn’t hurt either.

  Chapter 12

  Kris

  It was Thursday. The last day of November, the second last day before the children’s Christmas party, and Kris was totally whipped. But four hundred boxes of chocolate meringues were baked, packaged, and ready to be shipped. She and Marie slumped in the wire-frame chairs in front of the bakery windows, too tired to enjoy their coffees. At the table beside them, Kris’s new seasonal hire looked just as exhausted. Aunt Vivian had left at noon, swearing she planned to sleep for a week, leaving Pat Two to finish the boxing by himself. “We did it, people. You were both amazing. North Pole Unlimited is sending a courier for these tomorrow, and they will be on their way to happy customers on the third of December,” Kris said.

  Forty-eight hundred cookies. The number blew Kris’s mind, but they’d done it. Now it was back to the regular grind. After the last two weeks, it would feel like a vacation. “Who’s looking forward to making anything other than meringues tomorrow?” she asked.

  Three hands waved in the air, including her own.

  “I’ll even make fruitcake,” Marie volunteered.

  “I thought you didn’t like it,” Kris said.

  “Like it? No. Stuff half the thing in my mouth in one sitting? Yes,” Marie reminisced with a happy sigh. “It’s too rich to eat every day, but it’s my new favourite Christmas treat. I’d love the recipe.”

  Kris was confused, but she thought it was because she was so tired. “You know the recipe. You worked on the first batch.”

  “But I wasn’t paying attention then because I didn’t know how good it was! Please tell me we’re making another batch.”

  Kris flopped her head to look at the calendar behind the cash register. It had their daily production schedule printed in her aunt’s handwriting. “I can’t tell you when we’re doing it again off the top of my head. If you want to bring me the calendar, I’ll look it up for you.”

  Marie twisted in her chair. “The calendar, which is all the way over there? I can wait till tomorrow.”

  “Everything can wait till tomorrow. Go home and relax,” Kris ordered her staff. She planned to take her own advice. When she walked through the door to her tiny basement apartment, she briefly considered doing her laundry but decided it could wait a couple more days. She wanted a full night’s sleep, even if she knew she’d dream of chocolate meringues.

  Her bed, with its thick lilac duvet and squishy foam pillows, called to her. She was digging through her dresser drawer for pajamas when her phone rang. And rang and rang.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She swiped it off the table and answered it with a gruff “Hello?”

  “I forgot the activities!”

  Kris had never heard Rudy panic before. She’d heard him complain and cajole and tease, but never panic. “What are you talking about?”

  “For Saturday. I remembered the entertainment. I have a Santa suit. I booked the sound system and made copies of the song lyrics for the kids, so the singalong is set. Jennifer agreed I could do the reindeer rental, so I did. The presents are bought, wrapped, and labelled. You’re handling the food. But I forgot to organize games and prizes for the kids. What are we going to do? The party is in two days!”

  Kris reached for her coat. “We’re going shopping. Do you know the Dollar and More Party Store by the airport?” She hadn’t been to the Calgary location, but she’d memorized the layout to the one she used to visit in Toronto with her sister.

  “I can find it. Will they have what we need to entertain two hundred children? I can’t believe I was so concerned with Santa, I forgot.”

  “Bring your wallet. Jennifer can reimburse you. I’ll see you there in an hour.”

  Kris concentrated so hard on the traffic that she was sitting in the parking lot waiting for him before she realized he said he had a Santa suit. What a relief! It was a smart move on his part—providing the suit and hiring an actor to fill it rather than try to find a professional Santa at the last minute.

  Rudy ran to her car, his jacket unzipped and scarf flapping in the wind. “They close in an hour.”

  “That’s plenty of time.” She held his hand as they slipped across the icy ground. “Grab a cart and tell me about the reindeer.” Because she hadn’t heard anything about reindeer.

  “Cynthia found a place that did a petting farm. I discovered they’ll also bring two reindeer to your Christmas event so the kids can look at them. Jennifer thought it was a good idea, too, so we’re having them in the parking lot. But that was easy. How are we going to keep them—the kids, not the reindeer—entertained for two hours?”

  “I have some ideas.” Kris had substituted at her sister’s day care often enough to know what would appeal to the various age groups they’d be dealing with.

  The store had aisles dedicated to children’s birthday parties. She steered Rudy away from the holiday displays at the front and headed straight to the craft supplies. Her first move was to throw boxes of crayons into the cart. “We can get free images to colour from the internet and print them off. All we need are a few tables with a basket of crayons and a stack of papers. Instant quiet-down-space for kids after we get them all hyper,” she explained at Rudy’s confused face.

  “Brilliant. I have a printer at the office. Can you send me some links?”

  “No problem.”

  Rudy stood beside the cart, unmoving. “How are we getting them all hyper? We can’t have a table full of candy. Even I know that.”

  Kris burst out laughing. “No, we can’t give them candy, but we can give them prizes. Ready to pin a carrot on Frosty?”

  She wasn’t sure what the store had in stock, but if they couldn’t pin a carrot on a snowman, they could tape a stocking on a fireplace or an ornament on a tree. Two plastic snowman shower curtains, six sheets of orange poster board, and a dozen rolls of tape later, they had their next game.

  “One more, I think,” Kris said. Rotating the kids through the games should only take an hour. When they added in time for snacks and songs and Santa, the afternoon would be gone.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Ice fishing.”

  Before she had a chance to explain, Rudy’s face lit up. “I remember those prize fishing ponds from my school carnivals. You tie a clothespin on a fishing line and toss it behind a curtain. Then somebody clips a prize to it. We need some good prizes for that.”

  “Definitely. We’ll need some stickers.”

  “Trading cards.”

  “Glow in the dark bracelets.”

  “Toy cars.” Rudy laughed. “Man, children are easily amused.”

  Kris raised an eyebrow. “I bought myself a set of stickers for next year’s work calendar.” She made sure to grab an extra set of birthday ones for clients, so they could track when cakes were due. They were both practical and fun.

  “I still have the toy corvette I got for my eighth birthday on my dresser,” he admitted.

  “Then find something to use for fishing poles, so we can continue the tradition.” She loved that he didn’t even question her. She sent him looking for supplies, not know if the store carried what they needed, but Rudy returned victorious. “I found a row with a bunch of stuff we can use for prizes!” he added, waving a handful of broom handles. Then he shoved his basket at her. It was heaped with cheap ornaments and glitter pens so winners could write their names on them, Christmas-themed cookie cu
tters, dinosaur figurines, mini colouring books, and sticker sheets.

  They were on their way to the cash register when Kris stopped dead in the middle of the aisle. Rudy couldn’t stop fast enough and rammed the cart into her. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

  “No, I’m an idiot.” She pointed to the stand they’d hurried past when they first arrived. “I’m in charge of food and I totally forgot about serving it, but those won’t do at all.” The display was filled with silver snowflake-printed napkins and Rudolphs with sparkling red noses. “Who puts glitter on napkins? Who thought that was a good idea?” There were a handful of usable Santa plates, but the snowman ones were downright scary. Kris showed him a set. “Is it me, or does Frosty look like he’s seen a ghost?” The snowman’s eyes were comically big, and for some reason the artist had given him angled eyebrows which added to his shocked look.

  “We can’t serve food on those. We’ll scare the kids,” Rudy said in agreement.

  She quickly scanned the rest of the aisle. “Ugh, there’s nothing here I like. I suppose we could get plain red and green.”

  “Are you sure you don’t already have that stuff?” Rudy asked.

  “I’m sure. I never had a chance to go shopping.”

  He reached out to stop her from grabbing a stack of napkins. “Wait. I’m sure Marie told Tucker that someone sent you some stuff by mistake. I could have sworn she said something about plates and—”

  “Yes. Yes, we did.” How could she forget the massive box of paper products hiding in her storage closet? “We’re saved!” Plus, she’d get her storage space back. It was a double win.

  Kris helped Rudy load everything in to the back of his SUV. It filled it to the roof. “Do you happen to know if the community centre has a liquor license?”

  “I don’t think we can give the kids booze if we can’t give them candy, Kris.”

  She snickered. “No, for us. Once the party is done, we’re going to need it. Two hours to set up, two hours of pandemonium, and two hours to break everything down and clean the room. I had no idea six hours was so much work to organize. I can’t believe Aunt Vivian has done it for the last ten years. The woman is amazing.”

  “She is. She and you and Jennifer are all invited to my office afterwards to celebrate another successful party. On Sunday. I think we’ll need Saturday night to recover.” He paused, then grinned. “We’ll have it catered. Maybe we should call Peter.”

  “Don’t joke. I’ll hold you to that. For the last few nights I’ve been dreaming of gazpacho and I don’t even know if I like it in real life.”

  She saw the snow whirling around them, but she didn’t notice the cold when Rudy stood in front of her. “I wish I could ask you out for supper tonight, but I know you’ve been working double time for the last couple weeks, and I already interrupted your evening off.”

  Kris didn’t mind. Her body was dead tired but the rest of her was energized from the time they spent together. “Do you want to grab a coffee?”

  “Yes, but I want you to grab some rest more. Let’s plan something for after the party. Something quiet and relaxing,” he suggested. “You know what? I’ll find something to make up for the ice skating.”

  “I liked the ice skating.”

  “I did, too but Cynthia spoiled the mood. We’ll try again. Something just the two of us.”

  She was about to protest when a yawn broke free. She’d put in more hours than he knew, staying after Marie and Pat Two left for the night, trying to get a batch or two ahead of the North Pole Unlimited order. A quiet night at home, albeit with a late start, was exactly what the doctor ordered. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Rudy reached out. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he pulled her hood over her head. “Sleep well, Kris. I’ll see you bright and early on Saturday.”

  It couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter 13

  Rudy

  He looked around to make sure nobody was watching, then gave a fist pump. The reindeer were even cooler than he imagined. The handler had even let him inside the fence to feed a carrot to the one they called Piper. The bigger-than-he-expected beast wasn’t named after anyone on Santa’s official sleigh team, but it was still cool.

  Rudy had arrived two hours early to assist in the party preparations. Jennifer put him to work, unfolding tables and unstacking chairs for the lunch service. Kris was busy in one corner with another volunteer, setting up the first of the activities.

  The games weren’t time- or labour-intensive, but they would distract the kids for a few minutes, which was the intention. The previous iterations of the committee had structured a successful party plan, and this year’s didn’t intend to deviate from it.

  He and Kris found themselves alone for a moment, all the other volunteers busy in different areas. “Is it weird that I think I’m more hyper than the kids will be? Everyone is going to have such a good time,” she whispered. She shook his arm excitedly. “By the way, the reindeer are brilliant. The kids will go insane when they see them. Then they have games and lunch and Santa and singing and presents.” She gave his arm another squeeze. “They’ll love it.”

  “They will.” He glanced around the hall; everyone else was still occupied with other tasks. He bent so his lips were right at Kris’s ear. “I’m definitely more eager for this party to start than the kids are. Of course, I already got my present.”

  Her eyes went wide. “You did?”

  Rudy moved in a little more and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. She tasted like the candy cane she’d been nibbling all morning. “See? Early merry Christmas to me.”

  Her mouth made a surprised “Oh,” but she recovered quickly. Then she grabbed his battery-operated, light-up Christmas tree tie and pulled him closer. “I want a Christmas present too,” she whispered, just before she kissed him back.

  “Hey, you two, find some mistletoe later. We still have work to do,” Jennifer called from across the hall. “Don’t you have serving tables to set up?”

  “Grinch!” Kris hollered back, much to his amusement. She let go of his tie. “Sadly, she’s right. We have lots left to do.”

  “Then we’ll go on our date.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Kris disappeared to plug in the warming trays for the buns and to get the water boiling to cook the hotdogs. While she prepared lunch, Rudy grabbed another volunteer and began arranging all the gift bags in a storage room. They piled bags on gymnastic mats, on and under stacks of chairs, and in every other open area, leaving a few square feet of open floor. It worked perfectly. He’d need the remaining space later.

  Rudy hadn’t told the rest of the committee about Santa.

  As in, he didn’t have one. He had the costume, but he hadn’t found a Santa-suit filler. All the actors he’d interviewed were too tall, too short, too young, or too scary. He shuddered in remembrance of the clown who’d applied for the job and had arrived in full circus regalia. That had been an immediate no.

  It was on him to strap on the tummy pillow and fill the big, black boots. “Ho, ho, ho,” he mumbled. He had to psych himself up in the next hour to put on a good show.

  He and the rest of the committee and volunteers had arrived at nine that morning. When they opened the doors at eleven, the crowd was ready for them. A bouncing, joyous, excited group ranging from grandparents to babies in carriers. Nobody was complaining; between the anticipation of the events inside and being entertained by the reindeer outside, the wait hadn’t been too onerous.

  It took five minutes before he realized the Christmas carols playing through the sound system were a waste of time. The cacophony of laughter and squeals and conversation drowned out the music immediately. Rudy felt the hairs on his arms stand on end as children threw their coats at their parents and raced to whichever corner drew their attention first.

  When the first kid successfully pinned the carrot on the snowman, Rudy broke into a smile so wide it hurt his face. “Mom! Mom, I won sti
ckers!” the little girl crowed as she waved the strip of cartoon cats in her mother’s face. All the work they had put into the party was validated in a single instant.

  Since everyone assumed Rudy would be organizing the Santa appearance for the final hour of the party, he hadn’t been assigned any other duties. That left him free to pitch in where needed.

  The games constantly had kids waiting for their turns. The crayon tables appealed to a broader age group then he expected, drawing the very little as well as the older children who were accompanying their younger siblings. He heard a few comments about not playing any baby games and waiting for Santa; he also noticed the same older kids were turning their simple pictures into multi-colour masterpieces.

  When Kris waved him over, Rudy hightailed it to the serving stations. Kris handed him a hairnet and a pair of plastic gloves and set him to work stuffing buns while she prepared a fresh batch of hotdogs. “Is anyone asking for the veggie dogs?” he asked.

  “We owe Cynthia a thank you for the suggestion. There won’t be any left.”

  “We’ll send her an email. How did her brother turn out as your baker’s assistant?” Rudy knew from his end that Totally Iced had made their delivery date and that North Pole Unlimited expected a complete sellout.

  “Pat Two did great work. So good, Aunt Vivian is looking at keeping him on as a permanent part-time staffer in the new year to help out when she returns.”

  A bag of hotdog buns slipped from his hands, but he caught them before they hit the floor. “Why would she need to hire someone to do that? Won’t you be there?” Kris hadn’t said a word about hiring her own replacement.

  “I’m not certain. I was only supposed to be here temporarily until she was back on her feet.” She shrugged nonchalantly, but Rudy saw a flash of sadness on her face. “But enough about work. We’re at a party,” she continued. “More hotdogs!” she announced, receiving a cheer from the waiting guests.