No, the things she missed most were someone to talk to, someone to go to parties with and someone to hold her during the long, dark, chilly nights. It was silly really. In theory he could be replaced easily. There had always been an assortment of eligible male elves that would be only too happy to escort her anywhere she wanted to go. A big fluffy dog would be company as well, and more than likely she’d let him stretch out beside her on her bed. No, Bernard could be easily swapped for someone or something more loyal, but the embarrassment of having been made a fool of was too much to bear.
Merry acknowledged she’d always been a bit…well, prideful. She was the daughter of a master puppeteer and her mother’s confections had won awards each year. No one, before or after their retirement, had managed to achieve the quality of their craftsmanship. Just thinking about the delicate pastries her mother created made Merry’s mouth water, even now.
Likely her parents were somewhere on a beach sipping tropical drinks adorned with tiny umbrellas and she wished them well, thankful they were no longer at the North Pole witnessing their daughter’s shame. She was also grateful she’d been spared the lectures about how work came first and how she needed to put the happiness of children above her own and stop wallowing in self-pity. Her mother had never been particularly fond of Bernard and questioned Merry’s good sense in marrying him. She would think her daughter was well rid of Bernard Breadhouse!
Sighing, Merry slipped on her heavy parka, pulled up the hood and stuffed her hands into her mittens. Opening the door of her workshop she headed out into the blustery evening, suppressing the shivers that ran through her. Perhaps she should retire as well. It would certainly be one option. Putting her head down Merry hurried home to her small, comfortable chalet. She’d take it under consideration.
An hour later she rested her head against the curve of her slipper tub. Her long shiny hair hung over the rim and she soaked in lavender bubbles. Taking a sip of her hot chocolate she pondered, ignoring the time.
She’d begin to age if she left. That was simply the way it was. As long as an elf stayed at the North Pole they added on years but not the wrinkles or the aches and pains. Similarly, humans ceased to age as soon as they became part of Santa’s staff. It was no wonder only the most qualified and dedicated ones made the cut and were allowed to enter the exclusive community of Santa’s Workshop. Apparently, Bartlett Bright had more to recommend him than his looks.
Crap, she thought sitting up as she glanced at the clock over the small fireplace in her bathroom! It was nearly seven now. She’d never make dinner and she hadn’t even had the courtesy to call him. Oh well, another time perhaps she decided sinking back into the scented water.
It had been a long and trying day and she deserved to relax. Besides, she wasn’t in the mood for anymore ‘talks’ about her attitude and she wasn’t particularly hungry. He’d just have to save whatever he wanted to say until tomorrow, or longer if she could avoid him altogether she decided with a satisfied grin.
Picking up her mug she took a sip before leaning back and closing her eyes. Santa’s magic and ingenuity kept the bath water the perfect temperature and she dozed a bit, thinking about sandy beaches and warm sunshine.
Bartlett pacedhis cottage and looked at his watch for the tenth time. She wasn’t coming. That much was clear, although a phone call would have been nice. It was now a quarter to eight and he debated the wisdom of stomping through the crisp, dark night to her home and giving her a piece of his mind. Rudeness was not a trait he admired.
He’d been trying to befriend her, help her through this difficult time. It would have been within his authority to replace her, albeit with a less qualified artist, but still. Instead of appreciating his efforts to be reasonable and supportive she’d blown him off as though his opinion meant nothing.
With a wave of his hand he had Harold Holiday, his assistant, clear the table and dispose of the cold dinner. Tomorrow Ms. Mistletoe would find out exactly how he felt about being ignored, his orders disregarded. He’d see how she liked the not so accommodating Bartlett Bright for a boss then.
She was latethe next morning having stayed up late reading a new book by her favorite author. Patty Peppermint, one of her few close friends, stopped her as soon as she entered the workshop.
“Where have you been?” she hissed looking around nervously. “Mr. Bright has been paging you for twenty minutes!”
Merry looked at Patty and grinned.
“I like the new do,” she cried, taking in Patty’s bright red spiked hair. It suits you,” she continued as she slipped off her parka. “And so what if I’m a little late. I don’t punch a clock and I stay late lots of nights.”
“I know, but he sounds…well irritated,” Patty murmured. “I wouldn’t keep him waiting much longer. The elves are starting to whisper amongst themselves and you know how rumors fly around here. I’d go see him right away if I were you,” she advised.
“Well you’re not me and I’ll see him when I have time,” Merry shot back, “and right now I’m busy.”
When Patty didn’t reply Merry looked at her closely. Her eyes were far above Merry’s head and Patty’s cheeks were quickly beginning to rival the new color of her hair. Merry winced.
“He’s right behind me, isn’t he?” she asked quietly.
Patty nodded silently and tried to smile.
“Damn. He’s getting to be a real pain in my ass,” she admitted pointedly.
“As are you, Ms. Mistletoe,” Bartlett replied briskly. Reaching out he took one of her arms in a firm grip.
“Here, will you put this in my office?” she asked, tossing Patty the parka as she was being towed away. “Geeze, you could at least wait until I get my boots off,” she insisted as she was led across the floor.
“Why, so I can watch you slip and slide in those heels you’re not supposed to be wearing in the first place?” Bartlett snapped back.
Clamping her lips together she kept still. They were drawing enough attention as it was. As they approached Ginger’s workstation she looked on with interested glee, clearly pleased to see her rival was in trouble. Instantly Merry stopped tugging against Bartlett’s grasp and hurried to his side, pushing his hand down to take hers.
“Bartlett, darling, slow down,” she said with a laugh. “If you’re in such a hurry to get me alone, you might as well carry me,” she nearly cooed.
To her complete and utter surprise he stopped and scooped her up into his arms and marched on. Looking over her shoulder at the shocked Ginger, Merry smiled triumphantly and giggled.
“What’s so funny?” he asked gruffly as he stepped into the elevator, still carrying her.
“Oh nothing,” she replied grinning. “You can put me down now,” she suggested.
