“Santa?” Lizzie asked.
Micah lifted his eyes off the sidewalk and stared ahead of him at what appeared to be a department store Santa. The red suit and pillow-shaped belly were a dead giveaway.
His heart lifted. If Lizzie could give her letter to this guy, Micah could head back home to a cup of cocoa and a possible nap. Sleeping in until nine would be just the thing to get his mood back on track.
The Santa leaned against a white picket fence, staring up at the old, broken home and shaking his head in disbelief.
Micah paused. Perhaps he didn’t want to be disturbed. He looked up and down the street for some form of transportation but didn’t see a truck, car, snowmobile, or sled nearby.
“Maybe we shouldn’t bother him,” Micah went to change direction, but Lizzie planted her feet.
“It’s him,” she whispered, her mouth open in awe. She dropped Micah’s hand and ran up to the stranger. “Santa!” She threw her arms around his legs.
“Ho Ho Ho,” came the jolly reply. A white glove landed on Lizzie’s back, and she tipped her head all the way back to grin at him.
Micah relaxed a smidge since the guy didn’t seem upset about being accosted by a little girl in the pre-dawn hours. “Sorry to bother you while you’re so deep in thought.” Micah glanced at the weathered house and wondered what Santa contemplated so profoundly. It looked like a nightmare before Christmas with its broken windows, sagging roof, and missing siding.
“It’s no bother,” came the reply. Santa’s voice was youthful. The scent of pine trees and some kind of incense filled his nose, and he glared at the towering tree in the yard that looked like it was one stiff breeze away from crashing through the roof.
Micah studied his face and found it free of wrinkles. However, there was something about his eyes. They were blue as an ocean sky on a clear day, and they … swirled? Weird. He shook off the thought.
“Do you want to give him your letter?” Micah glanced down and found Lizzie staring at the house. He put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her that it wasn’t as scary as it looked and that he was there to protect her.
“Who lives there?” she asked Santa.
“No one.” Santa smiled. “It needs some work.” He pointed to the broken window on the second level.
Lizzie clasped her mittens together in front of her. “I wish we could live there.”
Santa gasped. The wind swirled around them and went straight down Micah’s coat, sending violent shivers through his whole body.
That was it! He was never leaving the house before sunrise again. He rubbed his arms, confident the goosebumps would stay for hours.
Lizzie giggled as she looked at something by her feet. “My wish glows.”
“Not again.” Santa cupped his forehead.
Micah’s head came up, and he searched for what they were both staring at—Lizzie with glee and Santa with dread.
“You don’t want that wish, do you?” Santa pleaded with Lizzie as he reached down to grab something off the ground. However, there wasn’t anything more than fresh snow. Maybe he was going to make a snowball?
She looked from him to the house and back again. “I do. I wanted an Easy-Bake-Oven before, but now I want to live there.” She looked up at Micah. “Our apartment is too small for a tree, but there’s lots of room there.”
“There’s probably mice and bats in there too,” Micah grumbled under his breath.
Santa dropped to his knees in front of her. “Sweetheart, can you please change your wish? Santa has had a run of bad luck with wishes lately, and if you wish for that house, Santa will have to face Auntie Lux and Uncle Qwick, who want him to–.”
“Nope. I want the house.” Lizzie folded her arms.
Santa dropped his head to his chest and groaned. “This is bad. This is so very bad.” He turned to Micah. “Please tell me you’re happily married and already have true love.”
True love? Who had time to fall in love? He was a single father who ran his own business. Besides, he’d been dumped too many times to believe he was boyfriend material–let alone someone who would ever find true love.
Micah scowled. What kind of Santa asked personal questions like that? “Hey, Jolly Elf.” He gestured to Lizzie with wide eyes that screamed:get it together.
“You’re right.” Santa pulled himself together and got to his feet. He stared down at the same spot Lizzie admired on the snow. “You know what? We might as well go all in and see what happens.” He tugged on his beard. “My life is ruined anyway. Might as well stir things up,” he mumbled. Squaring his shoulders, he looked Micah in the eye. “Lay it on me.”
Micah blinked under the intensity of his gaze and the way his eyes swirled like a snow globe. It was mesmerizing and disturbing all at once. “What?” he asked for clarification.
