Santa Loves Curvy Girls

12. Belle

12

BELLE

T he next day at Cider Center was especially busy. With Christmas right around the corner, everyone and their mama was out doing last-minute shopping.

Santa Claus had a line of families wanting their picture since eight o’clock this morning, and I hadn’t had a minute to stop and take a break since then.

There were babies, toddlers, and kids of all ages running around, screaming and itching to get their turn with Santa.

I tried to keep them occupied with songs and free snacks while they waited in line, but the mall was still chaos.

Halfway through my shift, I switched places with one of the other elves, and I helped lead kids away from Santa once their turn was done.

At one point, I even saw Carolynn shopping at the mall, but all I had time for was a quick wave before chasing after a runaway preschooler.

After I finally helped his mom get ahold of him, I gave Santa a glance. He gave me a knowing look from where he sat.

Meanwhile, the next child had both of us tearing up. A sweet little girl with braids who told Santa she didn’t want anything for Christmas this year. She just wanted her daddy to be happy again because ever since Grandpa had passed away to heaven, he’d been really, really sad.

I held her hand and looked toward Santa, but he kept his gaze on her face and his gloved hand on her shoulder. “I see.” There was a pause, and I wondered if he knew what to say. Just as I was about to interrupt and change the subject to something happier, he went on. “It’s not easy when someone you love passes away. Your daddy is sad because he loves your grandpa very much.”

“But when will he stop being sad?” she asked, curious.

Santa exhaled. “Well, he might be sad any time he thinks about Grandpa and all the fun memories. But the important thing is to remember Grandpa together and talk about all the fun times. That’ll help your daddy feel better.”

Goosebumps ran down my arms. I’d never heard him talk about anything like this before. It sounded like he was talking from a deeply personal experience.

He glanced at me, and I gave him a small smile. He turned back to Leila, the little girl. “Your daddy is going to be alright. And I’m sure he wants you to have a beautiful Christmas. Now tell me, how can I help make it special?”

She finally told him about the doll she wanted and ask if he could please bring one for her little sister too.

“You got it, Leila,” he said with a grin. She gave him a big hug, and he squeezed her in return. Then she ran right to her parents, who were holding her baby sister. The mom mouthed thank you, and I swore I saw the dad blinking back tears before they all walked away.

Before the next kid came up, I asked Santa, “How’d you know what to say?”

He shrugged. “My dad died when I was little. I guess I know what it’s like to lose someone.”

Before I could say anything else, a little boy hopped up on his lap, going right into his wish list.

During the final leg of our shift, my mom found us. There was a rare lull, so she gave us a quick five-minute break. A couple of the other elves ran to the restroom. Meanwhile, all I wanted to do was sit.

Mom went up to Santa, offering him an iced coffee. “You’re the best Santa we’ve had in a long time!” she told him.

Santa grinned and took the coffee. “Thank you, Mrs. Finch. It’s been an honor.”

After that, she took off again, clipboard in hand. As she went to talk to her janitorial team, I walked up to Santa.

“You’re a natural,” I told him, deciding not to bring up what he’d said earlier. “The kids love you.”

He glanced around. “Is that why we’re so busy?”

I looked at the long line. “Probably.” Then I turned my gaze on him again. “You’ve got the best job too, sitting down all day. You know how many four-year-olds I’ve chased down today? I mean, what are their parents giving them before coming here? A whole gallon of hot chocolate?”

Santa laughed. “Actually, you’re probably not far off.”

There were holiday treats galore at the mall this time of year.

“You know,” Santa went on, “you’re welcome to sit on my lap if you want.” His blue eyes sparkled mischievously as he patted his thigh.

I immediately felt my face turn hot, and I nudged him playfully. “I don’t think Mrs. Claus would appreciate that,” I joked. “It would really get the rumors going at the North Pole, and we can’t have that.”

“Well, you know where to find me should you change your mind,” he teased.

We got going again, and I went back to corralling crazy kids.

As I did, I couldn’t help but think about what would happen once the Christmas season was over. Just a couple more days, and then I’d be out of this elf costume for good and so would Santa.

What would happen then? Would we be over too?