Chestnut hesitated. “Did something happen with Harvey?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” It was too embarrassing.
He shook his head. “Aw, what an idiot. Maybe he has a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Or terrible breath.”
No, he smelled like cinnamon and roasted beans. I pushed past Chestnut to get back to work. The families needed me to help them make great memories. They kept me busy away from my coworker's inquiries.
My holiday elf persona functioned on autopilot: I sang the holiday songs, quizzed kids on reindeer, asked people about the highlights of their year, gave directions, and handed out candy canes. Time lost all meaning outside of line wait updates.
But then I felt someone staring at me. Not with childish wonder or teen disdain. They were watching me. I made my way into the grove's nook to restock candy canes, somewhere most people couldn’t see me. Heart pounding hard, I peeked out from my sanctuary and scanned the mall crowd, my gaze pulled to a man in an olive cap standing outside Fancee’s. My eyes widened, and Harvey froze, paling before color flooded his cheeks. He glanced slightly to the left, hunched his shoulders, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
What was he doing here? Did he want to talk to me?
No, he was frowning and talking to a security guard. He pulled at his clothes and glanced my way. If his uncomfortable body language was any indicator, there’d be no more smiles or free cookies for me.
Wait, whywashe talking to security? I bunched the edge of my uniform skirt in my sweaty palms. They were looking at me and gesturing vaguely. What if Harvey was here to report me for having a kink or something? What if theyfiredme? I’d lose the last thing that really makes me happy.
My brain shut down, muffling the noise of kids crying and cheery holiday music as I staggered back to the line in a daze. A family handed me a phone to take a picture.
I tried to steady my shaking hands enough to prevent motion blur in the photo. “Hi, how’s your week been?” I asked.
The parent on the left answered, “Great, we went to the Winter Festival. Have you ever gone?”
It twisted my heart, but I smiled. “Not this year. I’ve been enjoying this winter wonderland.”
“Well, you should get out more. Santa can’t keep you in the workshop all day,” the parent on the right joked.
“At least it’s heated,” I ribbed back, my voice wavering. “Smile and say ‘Christmas tree.’”
“‘Christmas tree,’” the family sang in perfect harmony.
Their toddler tugged on Santa’s beard. The curly white tendrils reminded me of someone else’s much darker clouds, plus the ones hanging over my head.
When I looked back at Fancee’s, Harvey wasn’t there.
Mr. Hoynes peered at me. “Are you sick? Your nose is all red.”
I shook my head, blinking fast. “Just tired.”
Ihadto get over Harvey. And come up with a plan. Fast.
I unclenched my jaw, lowered my shoulders, and smiled. Time to make people happy for as long as Santa would let me.
15
Rest
After my shift, I parked in my driveway, the car engine growling as I twisted the ignition off.
No one had said anything to me yet. When I left, the security guards were too busy with shoplifters and lost kids to even register who I was while checking my bag.
But what if this was it? The end of my holiday?
I needed a hug now more than ever. Since I was home and relatively safe, I unbuckled my seatbelt, then crawled into the back seat searching for Mr. Waddles.
Someone knocked on the window.
I slammed back into the other side of the car. Thank goodness the sippy cup and coloring books were hidden in the back seat pouches.
