Alastair shook his head. “My daddies say I can’t just blurt things out, but she’s asking me to tell you this, so I think it’s okay. She still watches over you. She said she’s really proud of you.”
Lucas’s heart plummeted into his shoes, scanning the area, though he didn’t know what he hoped to see. What didhe mean she’s asking him to tell him that? His gaze jerked to August who gave a small shake of his head, reminding Lucas not to meltdown in public.
Everyone seemed frozen, from the elf to Mrs. Claus. Even the girls stared at the scene unfolding with interest.
Santa blinked rapidly, then cleared his throat. He removed his glasses, then put them back on, his jovial facade slipping. “My… my mom?”
Alaister nodded solemnly. “She says you’re really good at making people happy, even though you miss her a lot. She said she’s sorry that she died when you were so little.”
Santa cleared his throat once more, sounding choked up as he said, “Well, I… I do miss her and shewasreally pretty.”
Alastair looked at the air beside the chair as if listening intently. “She said she likes the way you laugh. She said it’s her favorite sound in the whole world. That it was how you used to laugh as a baby, too.”
Santa stared down at Alastair, looking both bewildered and awed. “How do you know that?”
Alaister shrugged in that innocent, childlike way, as if the answer is too obvious to explain. “She told me. She’s really nice. She also said to tell you that the thing you lost in the kitchen fell behind the fridge so you don’t have to feel bad.”
“Well, th-thank you,” he said, taking his glasses off to wipe his eyes. “What do you want from Santa this year?”
Alastair shrugged, then shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Santa said, startled. “At all?”
“We’re rich,” Alastair declared. “I get whatever I want anyway.”
“Oh,” Santa said, giving another laugh, this one much lighter.
But then Alastair’s expression grew troubled again. “Well, there is one thing…”
“What is it?”
He leaned in and whispered something to Santa. Whatever it was made the man’s face fall. “I-I don’t know if I have enough…magic for that, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Alaister gave a single nod.
They took the picture and Alastair slid off the man’s lap with a wave. While August waited for the pictures to print, Santa waved Lucas over to him.
“I’m so sor—” Lucas started.
The man waved his words away, cutting him off to say. “I know you can’t do anything about this anymore than I can, but…he asked if I could take his nightmares away.”
“Wh-what?” Lucas managed.
They knew Alastair had been having night terrors. Lucas had them too when he was his age. “Whatexactlydid he say?”
Santa’s expression turned grim. “He said people come into his room and demand he do things for them. That he thinks they have to be dreams cause they’re scarier than the ones he sees during the day.”
“Ones he sees during the day?” Lucas whispered. “What does that mean?”
The man shook his head. “I don’t know. He just asked if I could make it stop.”
Lucas blinked back tears. “Okay, thank you.”
“You have quite the interesting family, Mr. Mulvaney,”Santa added, almost as an afterthought.
“Please, don’t tell anyone about this,” Lucas pleaded.
“I wouldn’t do that,” the man assured him.
