They hadn’t practiced that, but Mira said, “Of course,” without any hesitation. She stepped close to Wade and put her arms as close to his shoulders as she should reach. “Snow, dance with me.”
With utmost gentleness, Wade brought his arms—well, front legs, in this case—around her in a loose circle, trying to make it seem like “Snow’s” machine intelligence wasn’t sophisticated enough to guess exactly where his dance partner was. It would make it look more convincingly animatronic,andit would ensure that he didn’t accidentally scratch her with his claws.
They started to sway together. At first, there was no music, but then someone started humming “Silent Night,” and the crowd took it up.
Snow and the Lady of the Winter danced.
Wade and Mira danced.
He would never have expected their first dance to be anything like this. If it had been up to him, he would have been human, so he could hold her more tightly, and they would have been alone.
But they would have plenty of chances to get it right. There would be a Christmas Eve where they danced together in front of their own tree, the silver tinsel turning gold-tinted from theflickering firelight. The cats would eventually join in—Wade knew from long experience how hard it was for a cat to ignore anything that wasn’t actually its business—and wind around their ankles, almost tripping them up. Mira would laugh first, or he would, and one of them would mention that if they went into the bedroom, they could shut the cats out and do a different kind of dancing ....
That moment felt bright and real, like it was captured in a snow globe. He knew that was where they were headed. They were dancing towards it.
The rest of the day felt less substantial in comparison: the flakes of fake snow drifting down in the globe.
He took children—including Billy Arbogast, who was there with his babysitter—on careful rides around the plaza, making sure to keep his gait measured so that it looked and felt as smooth as a jaunt on a carousel pony.
The kids were great. They hugged him, burying their faces in his thick fur. Sometimes those faces were a little sticky with hot chocolate and candy cane residue, but Wade didn’t mind. They were having a good time, and that was all he cared about right now.
He also loved seeing how they were with Mira. She moved like cool, sweet water through the overheated crowds, keeping things happy rather than hectic. As the Lady of the Winter, she commanded a kind of hushed reverence from them: no one would ever have inflicted unceasing rounds of screechy “Jingle Bells” onthisMira, who looked so serene and otherworldly.
Wade placed a bet then and there that the Lady of the Winter would filter out into the whole town’s subconscious, at least from a kid’s-eye view, and that soon she would feel like an age-old Christmas tradition.
By the time the Arbogasts arrived to see how everything was going, the Christmas Village was alive like never before.
The Elf Mafia was a well-oiled machine, serving up cookies and wrapping presents while keeping up a line of fun patter with parents and kids alike. The mood was buoyant, full of the most genuine Christmas cheer and joy Wade had ever seen. The whole mall hummed with activity, as shoppers drawn in by the polar bear stunt decided to hit up the stores to do some last-minute shopping.
Wade was back with Mira, with Snow and the Lady of the Winter doing another dance by popular demand. This time the tune was “Silver Bells.”
“This is ... this is something else,” Mr. Arbogast said. “Ah, did Billy get a ride too? I know he must have wanted one.”
Wade had to stop himself from nodding automatically—that wouldn’t have worked for Snow’s cover at all.
“Of course,” Mira said. For the first time in hours, a hint of hesitation crept into her voice. She wasn’t the Lady of the Winter right now, she was Mira—and she was hoping that they had saved her Christmas oasis after all. “But what about next year?”
Wade risked a tiny bit of non-robotic movement and rested his paw gently against her back, trying to lend her as much support as he could.
“You mean do I want the Christmas Village back next year?” Mr. Arbogast said incredulously. “Of course I do. Today has goneperfectly.” He waved a hand before Mira could say anything. “I know, I know—it won’t always stay perfect. But this makes me think that if we have the right management—and an, ahem, animatronic polar bear once a year as a special treat—we really could make this place a major business asset.”
“And an important part of the community, honey,” Mrs. Arbogast said, elbowing him.
“Sure, that too. I have a couple more things to say the two of you, but they can wait until everything’s wrapped up.” Mr. Arbogast checked his watch. “Which is ... now, isn’t it?”
It was, but Wade gave one last ride to a little boy who had gotten there late and looked like he would cry if he had to wait until next year. Then he and Mira and the Arbogasts headed into the tent.
As far as the Elf Mafia knew, they had gotten the animatronic polar bear from a top-secret source that only wanted to deal with Wade. No one was to see the polar bear moved in and out of the plaza. Once they went into the tent, the show was over, and the Elf Mafia would start clearing the place out. Wade could already hear the sounds of it happening.
He relaxed back into his human form. This was the first time he had ever stayed a polar bear for hours at a time, and it almost felt strange to back on two legs.
His polar bear was smug about it:Four legs are much more efficient for walking. Much sturdier.
I know, buddy.
“You were terrific,” Mira said, hugging him.
His polar bear might have an easier time staying on its feet, but his human form definitely had an easier time embracing Mira. He had no claws or killer strength to worry about, and he didn’t need to pretend to be a machine. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her hair.
