What did she say to do? Yell at it.
Suddenly, the bear struck a match.
Not a bear, dumbass.
Santa Claus. Smoking a cigar. Because apparently this night hadn’t been surreal enough already.
I was not going to tell anyone about this little incident. My brothers would never let me live it down if they found out Santa had scared the shit out of me.
Wesley—I had to remind myself that the guy had an actual name—saw me recovering from the jump scare and chuckled. “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a second cigar. “Care to join an old man for a smoke?”
I wasn’t much of a cigar smoker, but something about the offer felt like exactly what I needed after the emotional whiplash of the evening. “Sure.”
We stood together in the quiet, the tips of our cigars glowing orange in the darkness. The tobacco was good quality, smooth and rich, not the cheap stuff I might have expected from a guy who played Santa for a living.
My dad liked cigars, but it had just never really stuck for me.
He gestured to one of the rocking chairs on the porch. I sat down with him taking the seat next to me. It was a little weird sitting in a rocking chair on a porch in the middle of nowhere. I had a glimpse of a future I never imagined for me.
Weird.
“Hell of a town you’ve got here,” I said, mostly to break the comfortable silence.
Wesley nodded thoughtfully. “Been my home for about twenty years now. Emmy and I moved here when she was just a kid, after her mother left. Figured a small town would be better for raising a daughter on my own.”
“And you’ve been Santa the whole time?”
He laughed. “Not quite. Started out doing odd jobs around the farm, maintenance work mostly. But when the old Santa retired, Emmy was about ten and she begged me to audition for the role. Said it would be the coolest thing ever to have Santa for a dad.”
There was warmth in his voice when he talked about his daughter. It was the kind of unconditional love I’d seen glimpses of in my own family but never experienced quite so directly. My dad tried. I knew raising a herd of kids was no joke. He wasn’t exactly present. And with so many of us, it was easy to get lost in the shuffle. I knew we all felt invisible at times.
“She’s grown up quite a bit since then,” I observed.
“Too much, sometimes. Got it in her head that she needs to see the world, experience everything life has to offer before she settles down. Can’t say I blame her. This place can feel pretty small when you’re young and full of dreams.”
Wesley took a long draw from his cigar and exhaled slowly. “Part of me hopes Sylvie will go with her to Australia. Emmy’s got a good head on her shoulders, but the idea of her being completely alone on the other side of the planet terrifies me. She’s impulsive. That’s part of her charm, but man, this white hair came naturally. Raising a girl like Emmy has made my heart stop more than once.”
“And the other part of you?” I asked.
“The other part knows that if Sylvie leaves, especially now, it’ll be the final nail in the coffin for this place. The Northwoodsneed her here, need her passion and determination. Without her?” He shrugged. “Well, let’s just say it wouldn’t be the same.”
I found myself curious about the dynamics of this small community. Wanted to understand more about how interconnected everyone’s lives seemed to be. “How long have things been struggling?”
It was an invasive question, but he had already told me quite a bit about the family operation.
“Depends on how you definestruggling,” Wesley said. “The writing’s been on the wall for about five years now, but the family’s been in denial about it. Gigi and Harold kept thinking they could turn things around if they just worked harder, cut more corners, held on a little longer. They put a lot of pressure on the kids to breathe new life into the operation. They convinced themselves it was their old ways that were holding things back.”
I took another puff from the cigar and processed that information. It explained why Sylvie was so determined. She felt the pressure to save what couldn’t be saved. That was fucked up. She was going to live with that guilt for the rest of her life.
He gestured toward the lodge with his cigar. “The whole town has been in limbo for half a decade, everybody pretending things are fine while watching the slow collapse happen in real time. But it feels like the axe is about to fall any day now.”
The weight of his words settled over me like the falling snow. This wasn’t just about one family’s business failing. It was about an entire community that depended on the Northwoods for their livelihoods and identity.
And they all knew what my dad knew. They knew it was coming to an end.
“What happens if they can’t turn it around?” I asked, though I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.
Wesley’s expression grew grim. “It’ll break Sylvie’s heart,” he said simply. “That girl has poured everything she has into this place. If she loses it…”
