"I make the schedules, Holly."
Right. Of course he does.I could literally facepalm myself right here but I refrain my hand at my side.
I move toward the door, then pause. "Justin?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For making this easier."
"I'm not making it easier. I'm making it right." He returns to his papers, every inch the professional again. "Now go. Before someone notices we're alone."
I unlock the door and slip out, my heart still racing.
The Santa House is chaos.
Kids everywhere, parents stressed, the line wrapping around the building. I'm in full elf costume again. I love taking on this role. The bells on my feet are jingling, my smile is plastered on and I’m trying to help manage the flow of screaming children and frazzled mothers.
"Next family, please!" I call out cheerfully.
A little girl bounces up, maybe four years old, wearing a tutu over her winter coat. "Are you a real elf?"
"The realest," I promise, crouching down to her level. "What's your name?"
"Emma."
My heart squeezes. Justin's sister’s name is Emma. I wonder if I’ll ever meet her. She would have been about the same age as Emma when she’d decided to give the reindeer a makeover. "That's a beautiful name."
"I want to tell Santa I want a puppy, but my mommy says we have to talk about 'sponsibility first."
"Responsibility is important," I agree, guiding her toward Santa's chair. "But you know what? Santa loves it when kids show they can be responsible. Maybe you can tell him all the ways you'd take care of a puppy."
Her face lights up. "Really?"
"Really."
I help her onto Santa's lap and step back, watching her earnest explanation of her puppy care plan. Santa, aka Jim, a retired school teacher with a natural full white beard and years of Santa experience, listens with perfect seriousness.
"Holly!"
I turn to find my manager, Mrs. Jensen waving me over. "Can you cover the ornament station while Janet takes her lunch? Sarah called in sick."
"Of course."
I head over to the workshop area, trading my elf costume for a craft apron. The station is already busy with families decorating wooden ornaments, glitter everywhere, the smell of paint and sugar cookies in the air. I look over and see my reindeer and Justin’s star still hanging on the corner tree and smile. There are pieces of us all over the park now. Some physical, some memory, but all us.
This is what I love. The magic. The joy. Making people happy.
But now there's something else, too. A weightlessness in my chest that has nothing to do with Christmas spirit and everything to do with a man who sees past my sparkle to the person underneath.
My phone buzzes.
Monica: Lunch? I'm in town.
Me: Can't. Covering ornament station.
Monica: I'll bring food to you. 20 minutes.
Me: You're the best.
