'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set

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'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set Page 87

by Maggie Dallen


  “Can I get them Photoshopped?”

  “Can you make sure they don’t get Photoshopped?”

  “If we aren’t happy can we get another session for free?”

  “You’re not going to be in the picture, are you?”

  Natalie became a pro at quickfire answers: “In an hour. We don’t offer retakes. No. No. Yes. No. No.”

  It was like Christmas brought out an extra layer of emotion in everyone, not always in a good way. Natalie understood that in a personal way this year. It was the first Christmas in three years that she didn’t have to shop for Seth and wouldn’t be unwrapping a gift from him. He had always been a thoughtful gift-giver, finding something surprising but perfect. This was the year she had been hoping the gift would be a small square box with a ring inside.

  The monotony of the job was giving her way too much time to think about him.

  Natalie escorted Santa back to the break room. As soon as the door to the employee hallway closed behind them, Natalie dropped Santa’s arm and took off her heels, a hiss of pain escaping her lips before she could stop it.

  “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to walk tomorrow,” she groaned, leaning against the wall. Santa waited for her while Alex walked ahead, looking at his camera. “Maybe I can convince Jeb that elves need sensible shoes. Especially since I’m barely in the pictures.”

  “The last elf tried that. Jeb won’t budge on the outfit. At all,” Alex said. “He’s a little controlling.”

  Natalie took a few hesitant steps forward. She sucked in a breath and put her hand on the wall again for support.

  “You okay?” Santa asked.

  “Oh, you can talk now?” she asked.

  After Jeb’s prodding to stay in character that morning, Santa was just…Santa. The whole day, he had stayed in character. He didn’t talk, at least not to her or Alex. And after she got him back to the employee hallway, he had disappeared for the lunch hour, returning just in time to get back out to the photo area. She had no idea where he went, still in costume, but he didn’t answer her other questions, so she didn’t ask.

  Whenever she wanted to distract herself from thinking about Seth, Natalie came up with ridiculous ideas for who Santa really was: an undercover agent working in the mall to break up a shoplifting ring; a celebrity who wanted to get a taste for the average life in disguise; an escaped prisoner who had been wrongfully convicted and was hiding in plain sight. Probably he was just a college student like her, taking a dumb job over the break to save up for the next semester.

  Natalie did hear little bits of Santa’s conversations with the children who climbed up on his lap. It was so loud in the mall that she couldn’t hear much, but she heard enough to know that he had a kind voice and was great with the kids. Even those who started off crying had usually stopped by the time he lifted them down from his knee. Natalie admired his patience, especially since hers seemed to evaporate almost immediately. But it was weird to spend so much time around someone when you could only see their eyes. She wondered about his real age, his name, and what he looked like under the suit.

  Santa shrugged. “Santa’s off the clock. Need any help?”

  “Not sure,” she said. “Do you know where I can get a quick foot amputation?”

  Santa chuckled. “The closest thing I’ve got is a bag of coals.”

  Alex smirked. He still had his camera in front of him. “How’s it going so far, Natalie?”

  “Other than my feet, pretty horrible,” Natalie said.

  Santa laughed.

  Alex smiled. “Well, you looked great from where I stood.”

  Yuck. Maybe he meant more like she looked like she was doing great… Natalie met his glance. Nope.

  “Dude,” Santa said. “Don’t be gross.”

  Alex’s face hardened, and he went back to his camera. Natalie gave Santa an appreciative nod, feeling a warmth in her chest. She was surprised and thankful he said something. Santa was patient with kids and stood up to another guy being a jerk. Maybe he was actually a superhero, using the Santa suit as his disguise. Super Santa.

  Thank you, she mouthed to him before making her way out the door barefoot. She couldn’t see his mouth well through the beard, but his eyes looked like they were smiling.

  She hurried to her car as quickly as her damaged feet could move. Natalie began to giggle and then laugh. Santa just called someone “dude.” Shoppers were now staring for two reasons: her outfit and the fact that she was laughing by herself.

  Despite the pain in her feet, she had ended the day laughing. The unfamiliar sensation made Natalie realize that it was the first time she had really laughed in months.

  One day down, three to go. Somehow, she wasn’t dreading it nearly as much.

  Chapter 2

  Day 2 - December 22

  By lunchtime on her second day, Natalie’s feet were actually bleeding. She sat at the table in the break room, carefully replacing Band-Aids. Taking off the heels had been an enormous relief. The trouble was that now she didn’t know if she could put them back on at the end of lunch. Her tights were crumpled on the floor, spotted with blood.

  “This is ridiculous,” she said. “I can’t wear these shoes anymore.”

  “The price of beauty is steep,” Alex said, smiling. He sat across from her, working on his MacBook.

  Natalie shot Alex a look. She was getting tired of his stares and his comments, all of which seemed to be suggestive.

  “If you think any part of this stupid outfit is beautiful, you need to re-think your standards,” Natalie said. She immediately wished she hadn’t, though, because mentioning the outfit seemed to give Alex permission to think he could stare at it.

  He opened his mouth to say something that she would probably want to punch him for, when Santa snorted from behind his book. He sat reading a worn copy of Franny and Zooey by JD Salinger. Natalie hadn’t read it, but the cover was exactly the same as The Catcher in the Rye, one of her favorite books from high school. She wondered if he finished The Brothers Karamazov, the book he had been reading the day before. Maybe, like her, he was someone who read several books at a time. In her college apartment, books were on almost every surface, sprawled open, pages down.

  Alex put his computer into one of the lockers and jiggled the combination lock he had brought with him. “I’m going to grab a sandwich before we have to head back. Want anything, Natalie?” Alex asked.

  “Some sneakers?”

  “Ha. I’ll see you both in a few minutes.”

  Alex closed the door, leaving Santa and Natalie alone at the table. She studied him while trying not to be obvious about it. Over the morning he still hadn’t broken his Santa character, leaving her with even more questions. She felt pretty sure he was around her age, based somewhat on how he carried himself, but also on the books he was reading, which had English major written all over them. Perhaps Santa was a writer and took the job because he was writing a Christmas story.

  She had been watching him all day, really, her questions about him growing. He had as much patience with the children today as he had the day before. Nothing seemed to get to him. To the contrary, he seemed in tune with what other people were feeling.

  One little girl had looked completely terrified and wouldn’t let go of Natalie’s hand when they got up to his seat. Natalie hadn’t been sure what to do, but Santa had gotten on his knees on the floor, kneeling before the little girl.

  “What’s your name, little bird?” he had asked.

  “Clara,” the little girl answered in hardly more than a whisper. If she hadn’t been gripping her hand so tightly, Natalie wouldn’t have heard her. “And I’m not a bird.”

  “Well, you could have fooled me. I thought I saw you fly in here, singing a little birdy song. My mistake.” She had started to giggle and her grip on Natalie loosened.

  “What are you frightened of, Clara?” he had asked, in a voice so kind that it made Natalie’s chest tighten with some emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint
.

  It took the little girl a moment to answer. When she did, it was in a whisper. “Mommy says you’re always watching. I’m scared.”

  Santa had held both palms out, his white gloves open as if to show that he meant no harm. “Clara, now that you’ve met me, do I seem scary?”

  Clara had looked at Santa, kneeling with his still-surprised-looking crooked eyebrows and warm blue eyes. She had shaken her head and let go of Natalie’s hand, allowing him to put her in his lap.

  Even thinking about that quick moment now had Natalie feeling a wave of emotion. He might be playing a part, but it seemed like there was a really great guy underneath the Santa costume. Somehow that made him even harder to talk to.

  Natalie pulled out her phone and sent a text to her best friend.

  Natalie: Tips for engaging Santa in conversation?

  Emily: Is this a trick question?

  Natalie: No.

  Emily: First—are you sure Santa isn’t super old?

  Natalie: No. But I’m pretty sure. He called someone “dude” yesterday.

  Emily: Not 100% proof. Why do you want to talk to Santa?

  Natalie: I don’t know. He seems really nice. And I’m bored?

  Emily: I’ll take any guy who distracts you over he-who-shall-not-be-named.

  Emily: Can’t you just ask him questions like you would a normal person?

  Natalie: He’s sort of staying in character as Santa.

  Emily: Hm. Maybe ask him North Pole-related questions. What do the reindeer do during the off-season? Any recommended products for beard care?

  Emily: Also, you should probably ask if there’s a Mrs. Claus. See you tonight at dinner! Let me know how it goes.

  Santa set his book down. “Something funny?” he asked.

  Natalie hadn’t realized that she was smiling. “Oh, are you talking to me now?”

  With the beard in place and hat pulled low on his forehead, it was hard to read his expression. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to not talk. I’m kind of an introvert. All this people-ing is wearing me down.”

  “Santa’s an introvert—that’s surprising. Is that why you deliver presents when people are sleeping? To avoid talking to people?”

  She could tell there was a smile now—just a flash of white teeth from the depths of the beard. “Precisely. I’m much better in small groups. Or one-on-one.”

  Natalie’s heart sped up, her mind immediately focused on the last part of what he said. If it had been Alex, that last sentence would have been innuendo. Even without seeing Santa’s full face, Natalie could sense the difference. He wasn’t being gross…but was he flirting? Was that a hint about going on a date? Or was she reading too much into it?

  It had been so long since Natalie had been on a first date or even thought about a guy other than Seth that all of this felt foreign. Her radar for gauging whether a guy was interested might be broken. The costume hiding him didn’t help. Without seeing his face and being able to read his expressions, it was hard to know.

  The door swung open and Alex popped his head in. “Guys, people are waiting. Break’s over!”

  Natalie groaned as she gingerly slid her aching feet back into the heels. When she could stand, she reached out to Santa. “Let’s get a move on. Christmas waits for no man. Even an introverted Santa.”

  The afternoon wore on in a blur of children’s faces, Christmas carols assaulting her ears, and repeating the same lines again and again to parents. Natalie counted down the hours, staring at a big clock across the way in a store window.

  “You’re doing great,” Alex said as she shuffled by him for the hundredth time that day, returning a child to his parents. Even a simple sentence like that made her skin crawl. Maybe it was the smile on his face, which somehow seemed more predatory than friendly. As much as she wished that Santa would talk, she wished that Alex was mute.

  Natalie was almost back to Santa when a sudden commotion on the escalator above them drew her gaze. A teenage boy shouted, “Think fast, Saint Nick!”

  As though in slow motion, Natalie watched the boy on the escalator extend his arm and toss something into the air: a disposable cup from the food court. Without a lid.

  Santa’s head snapped up just as the drink flew over his head, sending an arc of liquid—milkshake, Natalie realized—pouring down over Santa’s face, beard, and the whole front of his costume. Chocolate. Natalie felt cold splatters hit her thighs. The boys on the escalator jostled each other, laughing and throwing high fives as the escalator rose.

  Natalie and Santa stared at each other for what must have been only a second, though it felt longer. There was no Christmas music in that moment, just a dull ringing in Natalie’s ears.

  And then time seemed to speed back up to normal. Santa was on his feet, dripping with milkshake, more milkshake than one cup possibly could have held, it seemed. Above them on the second story, teenage boys were running. Natalie saw a blur of dark blue as mall security chased after them.

  “Here. Let me help?” Natalie took Santa’s arm and began to lead him toward the break room. He wiped a gloved hand over his glasses, then took them off altogether. One of the fake eyebrows caught on the glove, revealing a dark eyebrow underneath. With her free hand, Natalie pulled down the hat to cover his eyebrows. She didn’t want to ruin the dream of Santa real for the children they were passing.

  Alex appeared next to her. “I’ll tell people we need a fifteen-minute break. And I’ll call Jeb. Maybe he’s got a backup Santa suit.”

  Natalie focused on getting Santa through the crowds, filled with people snickering and staring, this time not at her. In the break room Natalie let go of Santa’s arm and began pulling wads of paper towels from the metal dispenser by the sink. She left some in a pile on the counter and began running water over another pile.

  “I think the suit should probably be fine for the rest of today if we just wipe most of it off,” she said. “I mean as long as the beard is okay, right?”

  Natalie turned around with the fistful of wet paper towels and then stopped. The Santa suit was on a chair next to the lockers, the beard and an oversized pillow resting on top. Santa was gone, replaced with a dark-haired guy about her age in in a white T-shirt.

  Against his dark hair, his blue eyes were electric. He had a swimmer’s build with narrow hips and broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his shirt. The stubble on his square jaw couldn’t hide the dimple in one cheek when he smiled. He still wore the red pants and belt.

  “Santa?”

  He laughed and held out a hand. “I’m Jeremy. Good to finally meet you. Officially.”

  She shook his hand, feeling the touch like a current from her aching feet to the roots of her hair. Jeremy dropped her hand and took the paper towels. Her cheeks flushed as she felt a flutter in her stomach. It had been years since she felt that kind of reaction to a guy. The last guy she felt that with had been Seth and he was the last person she wanted to think about right now. She realized that she had thought about him less in the past two days than she had in months. The thought made her smile.

  “Not who you were expecting?” Jeremy said.

  “Not quite,” she said. “I thought maybe you were a spy. Or an escaped convict.”

  “Close…I’m a college student. But don’t let this affect your opinion of my professional services. When I am in the suit, I AM Santa.”

  Natalie felt too awkward to respond to this sudden playfulness. “Speaking of—how about I work on the suit and you take the beard?”

  She handed him half of the wet paper towels and they both began wiping milkshake from his uniform. She was glad to have something to do. Natalie felt oddly exposed, even though she had been visible the whole time and Santa had been the one covered up. It was much easier talking to him when he was in the uniform.

  Alex stepped through the door and then stopped. He looked to Jeremy and Natalie, then blinked before he spoke.

  “Jeb does not have a backup suit. If we can get this one
to work for today, there’s only an hour left. He has the name of a dry-cleaner that can take care of it by opening tomorrow. Can either of you drop it off?”

  “I’ll take it,” both Natalie and Jeremy said at the same time.

  “Either way. As long as it gets done for tomorrow. You’ve got some on your legs.” Alex reached for a paper towel and leaned in toward Natalie.

  Jeremy stiffened, like he was ready to say something if necessary. He glanced at her and she shook her head. He seemed to understand and kept on scrubbing the beard.

  Natalie grabbed the paper towels from Alex before he could reach her. She stepped away. “I’ve got it. Thanks.”

  Alex gave Jeremy a last glance. “I’ll see you guys out there in five? I think I can hold all the customers off until then.” The door closed behind Alex.

  “I think I may just put this whole thing under the faucet,” Jeremy said. “Is that going to kill the beard?”

  “I am the wrong person to ask about fake beards,” Natalie said. “I mean, it seems fairly indestructible. It’s just water, right?”

  “Sink it is.”

  They cleaned in silence for another few minutes. Natalie held up the Santa coat. “I think I’ve got the suit about as good as it’s going to get for today. A little stain on the collar, but hey.”

  “This beard is passable. Just wet. Guess it’s time to suit back up.”

  “Does this mean we go back to silence? Or will you talk to me now that I’ve seen your real face and know your name?”

  Jeremy grinned at her. Besides the dimple, one front tooth was slightly cooked. It made him endearing and adorable. A nice imperfection on someone who otherwise might be a little too perfect.

  “Once I have the suit on, I’m Santa again. Not Jeremy. Now, please, give me privacy while I transform. Turn your back, woman.”

  Natalie giggled while she waited. “This day. Could it get any nuttier? This job is totally absurd. Don’t you think?”

  She almost jumped when he touched her arm. With the beard and the eyebrows back in place, the fake glasses and hat pulled down low, he wasn’t recognizable. Other than his glittering blue eyes. She could read the smile there. “Hello again, Santa,” she said. “I think we’ve got some place to be.”

 

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