Santa Loves Curvy Girls

20. Belle

20

BELLE

C hristmas Eve at the mall was tense and awkward with Santa. Even my mom noticed.

After hardly speaking a word to him all day, she came up to me, clipboard in hand and her walkie-talkie back in her belt. “You two okay?” she said, glancing at him. “You won’t even look at him anymore.”

I cast a glance his way, seeing him smile at a toddler sitting in his lap. The little boy grinned up at him, just as enamored with Santa and his charm as I was. But I couldn’t tell my mom that I’d stupidly let myself fall for the one person who could never be fully honest with me about who he was.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, sweeping up cookie crumbs from the floor.

“You and Santa have been inseparable since you started working here,” she went on. “That’s all.”

I shrugged. “We’re just friends. And this whole Santa thing is almost over anyway.” I should just move on and let go of the childish wish I’d made.

“Okay,” she said. “But he seems really nice.”

I got what she was hinting at. It was probably obvious to everyone that we’d become close, but I wanted to make it clear that was no longer the case. “It was just an act for the sake of the town. Santa and his elf. He’s a good actor.”

“Hmm,” Mom replied. She gave me a sad look that said she didn’t believe me and walked away to help an elf that a baby just spat up on.

The truth was, it was easier to pretend it was all a game when it came to him than admit how crushed I was on the inside. I had really believed that my Christmas wish was going to come true and that my friends and I would find love this year. I’d thought I’d finally found a guy who liked me for me.

I hadn’t had much time to talk to my friends, but I thought that if a relationship was really happening for me, then maybe it was for them too. But it seemed that wasn’t the case at all.

I allowed myself a single lingering glance at Santa, then continued cleaning. How could you miss someone who was just feet away?

After our shift was over, he got out of his oversized velvet chair and walked my way. I hardly looked at him as I wiped down the benches nearby where families sat while they waited to see him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” I replied, focused on wiping off some stubborn and sticky juice from the bench.

“I understand if you’re mad at me,” he said.

I sprayed the cleaner again and kept scrubbing, moving on to the rest of the bench. I wasn’t mad. I was hurt. Disappointed. Losing hope that I’d ever have a real relationship before I got out of high school. But since I couldn’t tell him all that, I came up with a different reply. “Did you make a decision yet?” I asked, still not courageous enough to look at him.

He exhaled. “No, I haven’t.”

I stood up and finally faced him, paper towels and cleaning supplies in hand. “I understand.”

“You do?” he asked.

I nodded. “I just want you to know I can’t keep doing this. Whatever this is.” He cast his gaze down when I said that. “It’s wrong for me to get my heart so involved with you when it can only go so far. It’s not fair.” My voice broke a little when I said that last part, and I focused on swallowing and steadying my gaze on him. “I hope you understand.”

Then I left. I didn’t want to stick around and draw this out any longer than necessary. Knowing everything that happened between us was over hurt enough.

I finished the last of my tasks for the day, changed out of my elf costume, and headed home as quickly as I could, ready for all this hurt to be behind me. For the first time in my life, I was ready for Christmas to be over.

I texted Mom, letting her know I’d see her at home.

She would be home soon, with it being Christmas Eve. Most of Garland would shut down this evening, except for a select few places. Almost everyone would be with family, enjoying each other’s company and eating lots of food.

Maybe I’d go home and bake another batch of cookies before we started our Christmas Eve tradition. I could go around and visit a few people tomorrow and hand them out to spread some Christmas cheer, despite not feeling any at the moment. Anything to get my mind off of Santa and the ache he left in my heart.

I walked in the door, glad my dad and brother weren’t home to see me holding back tears as I took off my hat and gloves. Then I went to the couch and curled up with Yeti, running my fingers through his puffy white fur. He rested his head on my chest like he could tell how much I was hurting.

This had to be the most terrible Christmas to date. Which sucked because it could’ve been one of the best. But I reminded myself that even with everything that had happened, there was still so much to be grateful for. My parents, my brother, my dog, and my friends. Garland itself. The lights. Hot chocolate and cookies that filled our bellies.

Even with all those blessings, my heart ached for the one thing I didn’t have, the one thing that felt so close yet so out of reach: the boy with the bright blue eyes in the Santa suit.

I was losing him for good.