“God, yes,” the “carol-oke should be on the naughty list” dad said. “Isn’t that great, honey?” he added to his daughter, in a perkier voice. “Free cookies!”
“But I want to meet Santa!”
“You will,” Wade promised. “I just thought you looked a little hungry.”
The girl considered this. “Iama little hungry.”
“Everyone good with free cookies and hot chocolate?”
The parents all nodded so adamantly that Wade was worried they’d give themselves whiplash. The children, who were seemingly impervious to the racket their peers were making, needed a moment to mull the offer over, but in another couple seconds, they started peppering him with questions about sprinkles and whether or not it was cruel to eat gingerbread men feet-first. He would let them sort that out.
He ushered them out of line and waved Milo over.
“We can’t give away free stuff, can we?” Wade asked, already resigned to his fate.
“Nope. Sorry.”
“Okay. Tell the bakery stall to just keep track of what we’re handing out, and I’ll pay for everything when I clock out.”
Milo nodded and started to walk off, but Wade had to ask him something first.
“How do you read French existentialist literature with all that going on?”
Milo grinned and tilted his head, letting Wade see the neon yellow ear plugs he was wearing. “My cousin gets them from the gun range.”
Okay, Milo was a genius even beyond being able to read literature in multiple languages. “Do you have a spare pair? Fresh ones?”
“Sure, but they’ll make it hard for you to hear the kids.”
“Not for me, for Mira.”
Milo snapped his fingers. “Right, makes sense. I’ll get them for her after I tell the bakery stall to take your life’s savings.”
“Thanks, I think.”
Back to the “Jingle Bells” kids, who were looking at him with wide, awestruck eyes. Their parents—or the harrowed, helpless-looking people he assumed were their parents—had about the same expression.
“Did you do that with Christmas magic?” one of the boys said.
“A pinch of Christmas magic and a dash of holiday spirit.” It sounded better than saying,No, I did it with bribery.
“So we can tell you our Christmas lists now?”
Wade hesitated. He’d boxed himself into a corner here. He would have to take them up to Santa’s chair for that part, but that would mean leaving carol-oke unattended. If Marsh popped in while the station was unmanned ....
There was a shimmer of white and silver as Mira reappeared, saving him. “Yes, go tell Santa your Christmas lists.” She grazed her hand over his arm, and the thick red velvet seemed to melt away to nothing. It was like he could feel her touch on his bare skin, sending shock waves all through him. It blew him away to the point where he almost didn’t hear her say, “Thank you,” in a low voice.
“Milo’s going to bring you some ear plugs,” he said before he let the kids sweep him away. “Or you can spill some hot chocolate in the carol-oke machine and tell Marsh the kids did it, if you want, and everyone here will back you up.”
She really had the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. It lifted up higher on the right than the left, and the crookedness made it even better.
“Oh, no, I’m not giving in that easily. I can wait out today. Enough parents will complain that he’ll have to stop the all-day version, and I want him to admit he’s wrong.” Her smile turned rueful. “Or at least decide the world’s not ready for his brilliant idea. But in the meantime, thanks for saving me.”
Tell her, his polar bear growled.Tell her the two of you are true mates!
We’re in public, in the middle of a workday. Kids are waiting!
It let out an agonized snort of frustration. Wade couldn’t second it out loud, but he hoped his polar bear felt just how much they were on the same wavelength about this.
