Santa Cam

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Santa Cam Page 12

by Maria Hoagland


  True to her word, instead of building one snowman four or five feet tall as Cam was used to, they built a row of tiny snowmen about six inches or so, obstructing the road in a tiny game of Red Rover. The first car that came toward them saw what they were doing and steered around to the other side of the street, leaving the little guys intact, but the next car that came wouldn’t have that option.

  “You, Talia Thomas, are one sick person.” Cam twisted off the lid to the thermos and handed it to her. He hoped it was still warm, but he wanted to give her the opportunity to taste it before he did.

  “Me?” Her eyes widened in a look of shocked innocence. “How so?”

  He threw an arm out to indicate the line of miniature snowmen. “Setting them up for sacrifice, and the poor driver who comes upon them . . .” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you’d put someone in the position to have to make such a difficult choice.”

  She lightly backhanded him on the shoulder.

  “Should we shoot some video for your MyHeartChannel? Would the lighting work?” Might as well use it if she thought it would be worth it.

  By the time they joked their way around some video and finished the hot chocolate, the scuffled footprints from their snowball fight were filled in with fresh snow. Talia stepped to him and wrapped her arms around him, and he smiled, not just because she was near him and he had a pretty good feeling he’d get another kiss or two, but because he liked the fact that she went for what she wanted.

  “I think you’d better get home,” she whispered. “Thank you for coming over tonight.”

  In the moonlight of the silent night, he couldn’t make out the color of her eyes, but he could memorize the curve of her face. “I’d say it was worth it,” he said, preparing to lean in for a kiss.

  She held up her phone between them and shook it. “I think so. Miniature snowmen. A great new Christmas tradition.”

  “If you’re a comic book six-year-old with a stuffed tiger.” He chuckled but then pulled her close. He wasn’t going to wait one minute longer for that anticipated kiss.

  16

  When she warmed up and finally went to bed in the wee hours of the morning, Talia had intended to sleep until her eyes wouldn’t stay closed any longer. No alarms, no work, no responsibilities. Except it didn’t exactly end up that way. It wasn’t even seven-thirty when her phone was waking her from a pretty great dream of kissing Camden in the snow. No, that was reality, wasn’t it?

  Talia blinked back her disappointment. She couldn’t believe she’d made the mistake of falling this hard for someone so quickly—especially someone who knew how to work a camera and a reporter as well as pro soccer player Camden Sharpe did. She’d seen what he was capable of, experienced it herself, and she didn’t have the best of track records when it came to falling for the right guy. What had she been thinking? She wasn’t generally the kind of woman to kiss a man after only knowing him a week and a half, and now here she was, regretting it even though it had been heavenly.

  Her phone was still ringing, and she picked it up, not surprised to see it was the man himself.

  “Good morning,” she said, trying her best to act natural.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  She cringed at the smooth talker’s compliment, which felt less than sincere.

  “I got a call from Zeke.” His tone had switched on a dime. “Hazel’s in the hospital. I’m going to head up to see her. Would you like to come with me?”

  As soon as he’d said something about Hazel and the hospital, Talia was out of bed and digging through her closet for an outfit.

  “I was thinking of going as Santa,” he said.

  She shoved a few hangers down the rod until she found a long-sleeved white T-shirt that would look okay under the elf costume she hadn’t returned to Ed yet. “Then I’ll be the elf.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Thank you, Talia.” He said it as reverently as if she were giving him the moon. “I’ll be there in a few minutes to pick you up.”

  It was a good thing he’d volunteered to drive, because she hadn’t realized nearly six inches of snow had fallen overnight until she opened the door. Considering she didn’t know the first thing about driving in the snow, she wouldn’t have left the house at all.

  “You don’t mind if I stop to help a stranded motorist, do you? Hazel’s probably still waking up or being served breakfast or something, and I just feel bad for this guy.” Cam helped her up into his truck. The lift on his truck would be helpful for clearing the snow-covered roads, but it made getting in and out a little tricky, especially when the ground was slick. “There’s a guy just up the block. I told him I’d be right back.”

  The one stranded motorist in a sports car turned into another in a minivan a few blocks later, and by the time they got to the hospital entrance, Camden had rescued five vehicles, seven humans, and an adorable Shih Tzu.

  Cam had just gotten the shivering pup and her owner on their way home when he climbed back into the cab of his pickup, looking weary. He rubbed his forehead, where the Santa hat he’d been wearing left a red ring of irritation. “Last one for now. Thanks for helping.”

  He’d been the one to do most of the work, but she was glad she’d had the opportunity to assist. It was crazy amazing to watch Cam as he chatted with the strangers. He made each one feel important, and never once complained that they’d brought it on themselves by being out on the streets when they weren’t prepared.

  “Question for you,” she led with all seriousness. “Is it Camden Sharpe Is a Hero Day or something? Because I think you forgot your cape.” Although she said it in a teasing way, Talia couldn’t have been more impressed. Before she’d met him, she would have presumed he fit at least part of the pro athlete stereotype, but time after time since she’d met him, he proved those assumptions false.

  “Miss Jingle the Elf—” Cam tipped his Santa hat at her. “—you know better than anyone that I’m no hero. I’m just a lousy fake Santa.”

  She gave him a sideways glare. “And you know I’m going to have to take exception with at least one of those descriptors.”

  Cam gave her a wink. “I’m not going to ask which one.” He pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of the children’s hospital. “Are you ready to elf it?”

  Talia wrapped the strap of her bag around her hand and lifted it. “A short stop in the restroom for a change, and I will be.”

  Along with a wrinkled garment bag, Camden hauled in an overstuffed Shooting Stars duffel.

  “Is all of that your costume?” she asked him.

  “Nope.” He shook his head before heading into the restroom.

  A few minutes later when the elevator opened onto the third floor, Camden headed straight for the nurses’ station, a bouquet of merchandised pens tied with the team’s red and gold ribbons. “Good morning, Miss Marisol. You are looking lovely this fine morning. No one could tell you’ve been up all night.” He proffered the pens with a bow as if they were prized roses for his true love.

  Marisol’s hand flew to her hair, which didn’t look any worse for the wear if she had been up all night, the gray-streaked brunette locks secure in their braid. She dropped her hand quickly, her smirk proving she was taking none of his flattery to heart, though she did accept the writing implements. “Thanks, Camden—I mean, Santa.” She set them in a mug with two similar pens. “As you can see, we were running low.”

  “How did you run out so quickly?”

  “Oh, you know Marlene. She can’t get enough of your pretty face. I think she gives ’em away when she discharges patients just so she’ll see you again.” Marisol leaned forward, sharing what couldn’t possibly be a secret. “Too bad it’s her day off. She’s going to be so mad!”

  Camden lifted a warning finger into the air. “Now don’t you go texting her to tell her I’m here. I’ll bring my girl back another time to meet Marlene.” The way he referred to Talia as his girl got her heart beating harder with a combination of nervousness and excite
ment. He put a hand on Talia’s shoulder blade and drew her into the conversation. “I’d like you to meet Talia Thomas. She’s got a pretty awesome MyHeartChannel, if you haven’t had a chance to watch it.”

  Marisol’s handshake was surprisingly soft, yet strong and businesslike. “Don’t you two look festive! It’s great to meet you, Miss Talia Thomas.”

  She looked between the two of them, expectantly. Apparently, the pleasantries were over and she was ready for them to state their business. “Are you here for anyone in particular?” She looked like she knew who that might be, but she wasn’t allowed to give out a patient’s name for HIPAA reasons.

  “My girl Hazel, of course.” Was everyone his girl? Talia felt a little less special. “After we visit Hazel, we’d love to visit any of the other patients whose parents might not object.”

  “Of course.” Marisol sounded exactly like a proud grandma. “Miss Hazel is two rooms down on the left.” She pointed the direction. “I’ll open doors for the patients up for a visit, and close any others who prefer to be left alone.”

  “Thank you, Miss Marisol. I knew I could count on you.”

  Cam’s boots squeaked on the linoleum floor as they walked away from the nurses’ station.

  “Come here much?” Talia asked, more as a conversation starter than a request for knowledge.

  Cam shrugged. “Since I have very little to do right now and I have this Santa suit . . .”

  Talia’s heart pounded with appreciation. She wasn’t sure she was as great a person as he was. She might be here today, but her whole intent had been to videotape. Was she really that shallow? It wasn’t that she didn’t feel compassion for the children stuck in the hospital during the holiday season, but going to visit them had never actually occurred to her.

  They reached Hazel’s room and Cam knocked on the doorframe. A drawn curtain blocked the view from the hallway to the patient. “Requesting access to Miss Hazel Davis’s room,” he called out.

  “Santa Cam, is that you?” Hazel sounded excited enough to jump out of bed to greet him.

  Cam parted the curtain with a flourish. “How did you know? You must have X-ray vision. That’s why they put you in the hospital, isn’t it? They put you to work.”

  Hazel’s big smile at seeing him turned into a slow giggle, and by the time he finished speaking, she was into a full-on belly laugh.

  “I think you need a better job, don’t you?” he said.

  She tried to say something but was laughing too hard for Talia to make out.

  Talia glanced over at Hazel’s mom, Hannah, who mouthed, “Thank you.”

  “Did you bring me presents, Santa? It’s not Christmas, is it?”

  “It’s not Christmas yet,” Cam answered, “but I do have something for you.” He pulled a fleece Shooting Stars blanket from the duffel. “Hospitals can be cold, so my elf here thought you might like this.”

  Talia shook her head as she realized he’d dragged her into the conversation. She’d been so busy watching their interaction, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be an active participant.

  Talia took the blanket Cam was offering her and shook it out. “Want me to tuck this around you?”

  “Yes, please,” the girl answered, but Talia checked with a quick glance to the mom, who nodded.

  Talia tucked it around Hazel’s petite frame, careful of the bandaged right shoulder.

  “Thank you, Elf . . .” Hazel trailed off. “What was your name?”

  “Jingle Elf is fine. Thank you for asking.” Talia gave Hazel a soft pat on her hand, earning a gap-toothed grin.

  After a moment, a cloud came over Hazel’s face. “Santa?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

  Cam leaned forward to hear her, his body curving like a question mark over her. “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “We won’t be able to leave cookies out for you on Christmas Eve.” She seemed deeply saddened to make the confession. “Mommy’s on a diet, so we don’t have cookies.”

  Talia coughed over a laugh, and Camden spared her a glance. To his credit, his serious face never wavered. Instead, he patted his pillowed stomach. “I don’t need any more cookies, either. Did you know I’m not just Santa? I’m a soccer player like your brother, TJ.”

  Hazel’s eyebrows shot up.

  “If I eat too many cookies, I won’t be able to run fast, and then my coach will be mad at me.”

  “Your coach like Miss Kendall?”

  Hazel was probably asking about Zeke’s wife Kendall, and Talia vaguely remembered they’d met on a soccer pitch when Kendall was coaching.

  “Exactly like Kendall.” Cam nodded solemnly. “So you’ll be doing me a favor if you don’t leave out cookies this year.”

  Hazel’s eyes started to droop with fatigue, and Talia touched Camden’s arm to get his attention. She nodded toward the exit, and he gave his own slight incline to indicate his agreement.

  “See you later, Hazel-bug,” he whispered, and then he waved at Hannah.

  The duffel bag turned out to be full of DFW United swag: the throw blanket for Hazel, a ball cap for the older boy next door who was getting ready for discharge, and a slew of teddy bears wearing Shooting Stars T-shirts for the younger kids on the floor.

  They’d been to most of the occupied rooms when they entered one with a skinny boy of about nine hooked up to an IV.

  “Nurse Marisol told me there’s a pretty great kid in this room, and I just had to come and see for myself.” Cam walked in with all the swagger of an actor in control of the room. “I’m guessing she means you?” He gave the boy a critical look.

  Cam stepped to the monitor and gave it a couple of taps, cocking his head in different directions as if he couldn’t quite focus on what it was saying. “I’m afraid I have some very …” He said all of this so sullenly, anyone who was listening would think they knew what he was going to say. Cam paused and then finished with, “Good news.”

  The boy’s face cracked a smile.

  “Well, you have to know why I’m here, Donovan. I’ve got a question to ask you: What do you want for Christmas, my friend?”

  The boy opened his mouth, appearing as if he was going to give an answer, but then his face fell. “I don’t think I can ask for anything.” His lip started to quiver, and his Adam’s apple went up and down as he swallowed.

  “Of course you can.” Cam’s look was altogether serious and just as confused. “Why couldn’t you?”

  The boy licked his cracked lips. “I haven’t been good.” Even as dry as his skin and his lips looked, he must not have been completely dehydrated, because his eyes filled with tears. He leaned toward Cam with the most trusting eyes Talia had ever seen in someone in human form, and whispered so softly she almost couldn’t hear. “I’m on the Naughty List.”

  Talia’s heart broke for the little guy.

  “Why would you think that?” Cam probably shouldn’t have asked, but Talia, too, was curious.

  “I was sneaking bad food when I wasn’t supposed to be. It made me very sick.”

  How difficult it must be when a child had such drastic food restrictions—and such devastating consequences when not followed.

  Watching this interaction, Talia was glad Santa Cam had to do all the heavy lifting, and she could hold back and videotape and smile. She wouldn’t have had a clue how to address this poor boy’s concerns, and yet Cam didn’t seem to blink.

  “Donovan, you just listen to the doctors and nurses and work on getting yourself better so I can bring your Christmas presents to your house, okay? Because I want to tell you a secret.” Cam leaned forward, and Donovan met him in the middle.

  “Yes?” The boy waited, almost holding his breath.

  “You do your best, right?”

  The boy nodded, a spark of hope in his eyes.

  “Then that’s good enough.” He paused a beat. “As long as you’re trying to do what’s right, you’re on the Nice List.”

  With a smile, the boy collapsed back into his stack of hosp
ital pillows as if exhausted by this conversation. And maybe he was.

  Cam hefted the duffel onto the bed beside Donovan and held it gaping open. “You choose. Take whatever you want.”

  The boy peeked in and pulled out a mini soccer ball with the Shooting Stars logo.

  “A man after my own heart,” Cam commented, offering knuckles to the kid.

  Donovan met his knuckles with the barest tap and then sank into his bed, clutching his new soccer ball to his chest, his smiling parents by his side.

  When they finished in Donovan’s room and Camden and Talia were in the hallway again, Talia dropped her hand to his forearm to stop him for a moment. “Are you okay with me posting this?” Was that the first time she’d asked him directly during this whole process?

  “As long as you have the patient’s parents’ permission.”

  Talia was aware of that already and had only videotaped patients whose parents signed their consent. “Did you even notice that the camera was running?”

  He shrugged. “There are always cameras. If you posted this, my manager, Shane Jones, would be thrilled. Then there’s my agent, Derrick, who likes to say, ‘If there’s no picture or video, it never happened, and if it’s on social media, so much the better.’”

  That didn’t smack of truth. At least not Camden’s truth.

  “I don’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “I practically had to beg you to let me record you rescuing the stranded motorist and her dog this morning.” She’d finally been able to talk him into it because Talia had gotten the victim to help plead her case.

  “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” he asked, still teasing.

  She shrugged as if she didn’t care. He could think what he wanted; she was seeing some pretty great things in him, even if he tried hard to conceal them.

  “Santa, don’t leave yet,” a female adult called from around the corner.

  Looking up, Talia recognized the nurse, Marisol, jogging up the corridor toward them. She stopped in front of them, winded.

  “A couple of the other nurses and I were watching some of your clips online just now—” She paused to catch a breath. “We have another suggestion for you.”

 

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