Love Your Elf

by Helen Allan

  “Yeah, well in case you haven’t noticed, she’s not exactly the jolly little Christmas type,” I murmur.

  “She seems like she’s in great pain,” he nods, cocking his head to look at me, “and is not the only one who could use a little Christmas cheer.”

  “Says the elf who was fired for, what exactly?” I give him a stern look.

  “A misunderstanding,” he shrugs, “nothing serious, I assure you. I’m confident I will be welcomed back no later than Christmas.”

  “Hmph,” I cross my arms and stare at him, “you know I will want the truth from you one of these days.”

  “I only tell the truth,” he murmurs as he gestures to the side of the room. “Will you allow me?”

  ‘To do what? I’d allow you a lot of things in another time and place – it should be illegal to have such a beautiful body AND beautiful face – but you are crazy, so, there’s that.’

  “Ugh, what?” I shake my head as my thoughts scramble back to the question at hand, “to put up a tree?”

  He nods.

  “I guess, but, ah, Kris, you can’t stay here…”

  “I know,” he raises his hands, smiling. “You have been extremely generous to me, I’ll continue sleeping at the store, for the time being, if you don’t mind. I just thought perhaps after work, I could bring you a tree.”

  “And how do you plan to do that when you have no car, no house, not even a change of clothes?” I ask, smirking.

  “Magic,” he shrugs.

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’

  I shake my head, before deciding I just can’t be bothered arguing with him, or anyone at this point, given I’ve had no sleep and work is due to start in a matter of hours.

  I trudge up the stairs to find him some clothes.

  “We need to be at the store in two hours,” I add, as I drag my feet up, my legs feeling tired just half-way.

  ‘These midnight phone calls from Europe are killing me, I really need to ask Louis to call at a more convenient time.’

  But even as I think this, I know I won’t ask him. I’m just thankful he calls each night. I don’t want him to have to interrupt his fun during the day. But God, I miss him. He’s like a link to reality, normality, and to the future I will have once all this horribleness ends. When my mother returns home, and my sister starts her life afresh with her daughter, and I can get back to my final year of art studies.

  “Soon,” I sigh as I sort through my father’s clothes for something for Kris to don that will fit him, “soon.”

  5

  KRIS

  I can hear both sides of the conversation very easily from the shower, and shake my head at the tone my new employer’s sister uses with her.

  ‘She sounds like a total cunt.’

  Walking into the lounge room, I hear Holly finish up her call, and smile at her. She has some fire underneath that soft exterior, she gives in to demands too quickly though, doesn’t let the fire come out.

  I notice she’s taken off her jacket, forgetting she’s not properly dressed underneath. She’s wearing black pyjamas featuring red, festive writing across her pert breasts that reads; ‘Define Naughty.’

  At any other time, I’d most definitely like to demonstrate that term to such an attractive woman, but Holly seems to have enough trouble on her plate. I’d had ample time to take a glance at the store’s ledgers while I waited for the sprites to finish the heating system, and things didn’t look good.

  Now, hearing about her mother, and listening to her sister, I can see why she has that small wrinkle in her forehead, the same I’d seen when I first glimpsed her through the window. I inexplicably want to smooth it out for her, take some of the weight off those lovely shoulders, but I shake my head at that bizarre urge; Holly is not my responsibility.

  ‘No, but she is my boss, and how she feels, and acts, impacts on her employees – and I need this job to hold until Christmas.’

  It was a spur of the moment decision to get her a tree, some Christmas cheer. Where I come from no one would dream of leaving a house without a Christmas tree this close to the big day. I find it bizarre, but then any elf would.

  I’d told her I was an elf, of course, but like most humans, she doesn’t believe me. She’d prefer to think I’m crazy.

  ‘And yet, she’s opened her family home to me, given me the keys to the business…she’s more perceptive, or more caring, than most human women I’ve come across.’

  When she leaves to find me some clothes, I make my way to the kitchen for something to eat and see her niece leaning morosely against the counter, staring into space.

  “Shouldn’t you be back in bed?” I urge her, smiling.

  “Shouldn’t you be in a psych ward?” she snipes.

  I smile even more broadly – I like this kid.

  “Your aunt is finding me some clothes,” I shrug. “Then I’ll go back to the store.”

  “Good,” she rolls her eyes, turning to leave.

  “I’m going to bring you a tree, little girl,” I add, “and some Christmas spirit – you and I will become friends.”

  “I don’t have any friends,” she mutters, stalking from the room in her little slippered feet.

  I frown and shake my head.

  “And where are your friends, Holly Goode, when you need them most?” I murmur, studying one of the exquisite watercolours on the kitchen wall. Her signature is small on the right side of the canvas, so small, as though she was almost embarrassed to claim it as hers, although it is truly remarkable.

  6

  HOLLY

  I stand, hands on hips, and consider the traffic driving by, as I stare through the large front windows, and sigh.

  It’s been two days since the heating was restored. The shop is warm and toasty, Christmas music is blaring, lights blazing. Yet still, the aisles are bereft of customers.

  ‘Where are they all going? Why won’t they call in?’

  I’m startled from my morose observations by Kris, handing me a warm cup of cocoa as he comes to stand by my side.

  He’s dressed in the same clothes he turned up to town in two days ago, yet he smells so nice. I can’t help but wonder how, since he had obviously just used the cheap yellow soap in the store bathroom to wash, the previously defunct staff shower having been restored for his use.

  He seemingly has no other clothes, no bag with deodorant or anything in it – no possessions at all.

  ‘How does he smell so wonderful?’

  “You know, we could borrow an idea from Harry Selfridge,” he says, interrupting my musing.

  “Huh?”

  “Window displays, imaginative ones that tell a story and drag people in, he invented them in his store in London in the early 1900s.”

  “Did he?” I shake my head, “aren’t you the history buff.”

  He shrugs. “I enjoy travel.”

  His comment pains me. I’ve never left the States, and it’s high on my list of desires. And right now, someone else is using my ticket and travelling with my boyfriend.

  ‘No point dwelling.’

  I shake my head before I can become depressed, well, even more depressed than I already am, given we have zero customers.

  “This building has an advantage over the new hardware store, which is little more than a glorified shed – these terrific old, arched windows,” he nods to the windows we are looking through. “We should do a display,” he adds as he sips his drink, “something Christmassy.”

  “You might be onto something,” I muse.

  ‘Christmassy. Is that why I’ve taken this stranger in like a lost puppy? The Christmas spirit? Or is it just that he seems so, well, good? Surely, he can’t be all alone in the world? I mean if he’s had the money to travel…’

  “Kris,” I turn to him, “please don’t take this the wrong way, but you have no clothes, no possessions. You’ve worked hard this past two days, and I appreciate all you’ve done, but it can�
��t be comfortable sleeping in the office. Don’t you have family that could take you in over this break, just until you get back on your feet?”

  “Family would be a bonus, certainly,” he nods, “and I have a large one, but I left them behind when I was expelled from the North Pole. As for possessions, I need very little. But should my current circumstances become more permanent, I will ensure my considerable assets are liquidated and begin my life anew in the human world.”

  I sigh. “Everything’s a joke,” I shake my head, “I’m just concerned for you.”

  “Don’t be,” he smiles, his eyes meeting mine. “I have everything I need for the time being.”

  I take a sip of my cocoa and turn away from his gaze. It’s disconcerting how honest his eyes are; such a juxtaposition with his statements about his past.”

  “Yeah,” I murmur, staring out at the traffic, “we should do a window display. This one,” I point to the dusty stand of chainsaws and the fake pine tree, firewood logs stacked beneath it, “has been here for as long as I can remember.”

  “I’ll get to work right away,” he nods. “Perhaps you could use some of your artistic skills to design a couple of different scenes – we could do a new one every few days. You can paint the background scenery. I’ll build the props.”

  I turn and smile at him.

  “How did you know I was studying art?”

  “I didn’t know you were studying. I saw some of your drawings and your mother’s work on the walls in your parents’ home and assumed you were both artists.”

  “Thank you,” I smile, genuinely pleased that he appreciated my work. “I’ve got a long way to go before I’m as accomplished as my mother, but one day.”

  “I don’t think you have far to go at all,” he frowns, “so, you design some window displays, and I’ll install them.”

  “You know, I never even thought to do that before, and yes, I can do that.”

  “I’ll go get Sapphire to lend a hand,” he adds.

  “Oh, good luck with that one,” I laugh, “she’s like her mother; refuses to do anything that will involve getting her hands dirty.”

  “Perhaps she’s just testing you,” he says gently, “looking for some boundaries.”

  “Perhaps,” I shrug, “if so, I’ve failed the test. I find it easier to leave her be than try to force her to do anything.”

  “She spends too much time alone,” he muses, “thinking. She should be outside playing with the other children – having fun.”

  “It’s nice that you’re worried about her,” I smile.

  “I like kids,” he shrugs, “they make me laugh, and they’re are often more honest than adults.”

  “Oh, she’s honest alright,” I shake my head, “she’ll tell you flat-out what she’s thinking. But I’m not sure the word ‘fun’ is in her vocabulary.”

  “Is that so?”

  He winks and walks away while I make for the counter to see if I can rustle up an old sketch pad, or some paper, to jot down some ideas.

  I hear low discussions coming from the office, followed by ‘piss off’ and a few other expletives, before he leaves the office, shaking his head.

  “Told you so,” I murmur as he walks past.

  He says nothing, but he has a cheeky gleam in his eye.

  A few minutes later, I hear a scream and a crash, and rushing next door, find Sapphire holding her heart and staring down at the floor where a large, fake, black spider sits.

  “Aunt Holly, you have to fire that elf!” she screeches.

  I burst out laughing and leave the room.

  The well-dressed woman who, I estimate, is in her mid-forties, stops mid-step as she walks down the sidewalk and backtracks to stare in the window.

  I follow her gaze to Kris’ butt where he stands, back to the window, high on a step ladder, installing a flurry of little twinkling lights that will act as stars for our new display. And I can’t help but grin.

  If anything is going to be an attraction in this store, it clearly isn’t my decorating, or our set design. It’s a certain dark-haired, dark-eyed man with a rock-hard ass and a penchant for working shirtless, despite the weather.

  Catching my eye where I’m sitting, painting the large backing board that will be part of our first ‘scene’ the woman turns her head to one side and walks back a few steps. I know she can’t be wanting anything hardware-ish, and yet the doorbell tinkles as she walks in and pokes her head into the area Kris and I have decided should be the first window display.

  “Hello,” she calls up to him, completely ignoring me.

  “Hello,” Kris smiles down at her, descending the ladder and giving her his full attention, “can I help you with something?”

  “Why, yes,” she smiles, her eyes raking his torso, “I believe you can.”

  He waves his hand to indicate she should lead the way, and I shake my head. Knowing Kris, the lady will leave here with a trolley full of hardware she has no intention of ever using.

  “Elf, you really are a drawcard,” I murmur.

  I hear the woman’s laughter echoing from one of the aisles, and although I know it’s silly, I can’t help feeling a little jealous.

  ‘I’ll call Louis tonight, I’m just lonely, that’s all.’

  About half an hour later, the doorbell jingles once more as the woman leaves, and I hear Kris murmuring ‘yes’ and her confirming a time.

  “Got a date?” I ask when he returns to the display.

  “May as well enjoy myself while I’m visiting,” he shrugs, “unless you would prefer I spend my evenings in your company?”

  As he asks this, his voice deepens, full of promise, sending a little thrill into my nether regions.

  “Not at all,” I blush, looking down at my painting, “just asking.”

  He chuckles as he steps back up the ladder, and I frown at the painting before me.

  ‘Yes, I definitely need to hear my boyfriend’s voice.’

  7

  HOLLY

  The till register rings as I shut it and tally up the day’s takings, sighing in relief as I see the income increasing even more than last week.

  Kris, walking back from locking the front door, catches my eye as I glance up. He’s wearing new clothes purchased, no doubt, with the first pay I’d given him this week.

  I can’t help but do what all the women do who have been crowding our aisles this past fortnight, and surreptitiously check him out. Today it’s a tight white t-shirt that accentuates all his muscles, perfectly fitted black jeans that leave nothing to the imagination, and of course, the ever-present jaunty little red and white Christmas hat.

  “Like what you see?” he murmurs, coming to lean casually on the opposite side of the counter.

  “What? No,” I start guiltily.

  “Really?” he frowns, “I thought I built it exactly as you specified?”

  “Oh,” I let out a breath of relief, “the display, yes, of course, I love it.”

  “Yes, the display,” he smirks, “what did you think I was talking about?”

  Thankfully, I’m spared having to make up an answer as Sapphire joins us, her bag on her shoulder, ready to go home.

  “Another busy day of doing nothing?” Kris asks.

  “Shut up, Elf.”

  “So, you concede, finally, that I am an elf?” he smirks.

  “No, I just figure you’re a nut job and I better humour you or you might take to me with a chainsaw or something one of these days.”

  “Because if you did concede I was an elf,” he goes on as though he hasn’t heard her, “you would also know that elves love practical jokes and tricks. And that since the spider, I have been waiting for you to attempt to get me back.”

  “I couldn’t be bothered,” she rolls her eyes.

  “Don’t have the imagination? Mmmm, that is disappointing,” he drawls.

  “I’ve got the imagination,” she frowns, “just no inclination.”


  “Very well,” he shakes his head, “if that’s the excuse you wish to use.”

  I shake my head at their banter, which seems to be non-stop of late. But I have to admit, he’s at least getting her talking – I was beginning to think she was withdrawing so far into herself she might not ever come out.

  “Right then, Elf,” she sneers, as she heads to the door, “if you want tricks, I’ll show you tricks.”

  “I look forward to it,” he says casually, “although I fear you are simply not up to the task.”

  She leaves without further comment and makes for the car, parked in our reserved spot at the front of the store.

  “OK, I’m out of here,” I smile, leaning down to pick up my bag, “but, ah, could you just quickly help me by propping up some fairy lights that have sagged across the front window?”

  “What about Sapphire?”

  “If I know her, and I do,” I roll my eyes, “she will have the engine running, heater and music blaring, and be using her phone to google some kind of trick that will possibly kill you.”

  “Excellent,” he laughs as he hoists the step ladder onto his shoulder and heads to the fairy lights I’d indicated, “would you mind handing me some tools when I reach the top?”

  I nod and put my bag back down on the floor. I’d meant to ask him to do this earlier today, but it had slipped my mind. Now, watching him rearrange the lights, I realise I couldn’t have asked him anyway, he was busy all day answering questions, and fielding passes from ardent admirers.

  “You didn’t stay here last night,” I note as I try to drag my eyes away from his butt.

  “Are you checking up on me, Holly?” he raises an oh-so-sexy eyebrow as he glances down from the top rung of the ladder.

  “No,” I blurt, a little too quickly, “it’s just,” I raise my nose in the air defensively, “important to know where your elf is.”

  “In case he’s doing something naughty,” he smirks.

  “Exactly,” I laugh.

  “Oh, I was being naughty all right,” he laughs, focussing back on the lights, “do you want details?”