Chapter Ten

Aster

I was nervous. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. Meeting Wolfe had gone so well, but Noel—that was a different story. I put on a good face because kids really did surprise me. They sometimes understood things adults did not.

All of that aside, at the end of the day, if he didn't want me here, I was gone. Not because Wolfe would kick me out into the snow but because it was the right thing to do. This was Noel's home, and he had to be 100 percent comfortable with everything that happened here, at least as it pertained to me. He was allowed to be grumpy if he was told to do chores. That was pretty much a rite of passage.

I looked through all the cupboards. I was going to make pancakes because everybody likes pancakes and they were quick. I mixed up the batter, and my fingers tingled a tad.

In a human, that meant something was wrong with their body, but with me, it meant my magic was there. There wasn't a lot of it, just a little, and I used it to amplify my pancake-making skills.

As I flipped the cakes over on the griddle, the first batch looked like cookies—not just one kind of cookie either but all different kinds of cookies. There was a pancake that looked like a frosted Christmas tree cookie, another that looked like a chocolate chip, and another that was oatmeal raisin. They would taste just like pancakes, but they were adorable and fun and perfect. I couldn't wait for Noel to see them, and I didn't have to because next thing I knew, his arms were wrapped around my leg.

"I knew you were ours! I knew you were ours!"

I flipped the pancakes off onto the platter beside me so they wouldn't burn and squatted down to be eye level with Noel. "I'm Aster."

He hugged me close. "I knew you were ours!"

"Yeah, I suppose I am."

There was a whole conversation that would have to be had around that, but kids being made of awesome, Noel accepted my comment for what it was and moved on to more important matter: breakfast.

"Do I smell pancakes?"

"You sure do." I stood back up again and poured some more on the griddle. "If we sit down, I'll serve you and your dad while the rest of these cook."

He ran to the table. Wolfe was standing in the doorway, watching, a huge smile on his face. As I went to the table, so did he, and I dished them both up plates of pancakes, their choice of cookie design.

"Daddy, you didn't tell me the statue woke up!"

Woke up. That was an interesting term, one I wouldn't have thought of, but I guess, in a way, it was accurate.

"Something like that." Wolfe ruffled his son's hair. "Don't let your cookies get cold." Wolfe turned to me as if the cookie part of things just registered. "Did you just serve us cookies for breakfast?"

Which wasn't him saying, "No, we can't be eating these," but also, he wasn't being too impressed.

"No." I rolled my eyes. "Taste them."

Wolfe put butter on his, and Noel had a little dish of syrup to dip his in on his plate. His father had already started slicing the pancakes into strips. I filed that away as something I could do for him next time.

If there was a next time.

There would be a next time.

Yes. A next time was on the horizon.

"They taste just like pancakes." Noel bit off another mouthful. "Really, really, really, really good pancakes."

"No, these are not just pancakes." His father beamed up at me. "These are Christmas magic cakes."

He probably didn't know how accurate he was.

The two of them ate as I finished up the final batch, using what was left of the magic to get them done quickly so I could join them. It had probably been enough magic that I could've gotten home, and maybe that was why it came back. It was my exit ticket.

But this was better—seeing the smile on Noel's face when he saw I made him cookies for breakfast, and the smile on Wolfe's face when I made him cookies for breakfast. The smiles were very much not the same, and I was going to cherish the memory of them both.

Yeah, this—all of this—was worth sticking around. I refused to regret using what magic I had on it. There would be other opportunities to get home…if that was my goal.

Was it my goal?

I sat down with them and got myself situated while they grabbed seconds.

"So, Aster, are you gonna be a statue again? I mean, you were cute, but I think I like you like this better."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, I think I'm still adorable, but that aside, I hope I don't have to go back again. I think I'm just gonna stay like this. And who knows, maybe after it stops snowing, we can play outside. I love the snow."

Noel gasped then started talking all about the things he wanted to do in the snow, which was perfect because I didn't want to talk about my ex-statue self. I still didn't quite understand all the nuances of my situation—how long I was here, what I had to accomplish while I was here, and pretty much everything Santa told me about the rules. But I didn't feel in a rush to figure it out because these moments here, with the two of them and an adorable kitten sleeping in the sun, they made everything worth it.

"How did you make the pancakes taste like pancakes but look like cookies?"

I looked to Wolfe, and he gave me a nod. I wasn't going to share more than he wanted me to. It wasn't my place.

"That's because I am Santa's head baker."

"No way. That has to be the best job ever."

"It is and I am. But you know how you can't tell people about Daddy being a wolf?"

"Yeah, it's against the rules, and Daddy will get in a whole lot of trouble. I don't talk about it at school at all. Ever, ever, ever. And when I turn into a wolf, I'm not gonna talk about it to anybody either." He had such a solid head on his shoulders for such a young boy.

"Well, this is kind of like that. We don't talk about my job with other people, but we can talk about it together."

"How come? I'm a person. Daddy's a wolf. How come we're allowed to know you?" Nothing got past Noel.

I didn't really have a solid answer for that, so I went with, "Because you're the one who picked me off the shelf." It was sort of true.

"So, you make cookies for Santa?"

"I do make cookies for Santa. I also make cookies for other elves. Sometimes I even make cookies for Christmas presents. When people ask for cookie jars for Christmas. I make a lot of cookies."

"I make cookies too." He pointed to the cookie platter on the counter. "I'm a very good baker."

"I know. I had some cookies last night, and your dad said you helped bake them."

"I did. I'm big now, so I get to stir."

"Well, you did an excellent job, as good as an elf."

"Really? Which elf is that?" He was dead serious.

"Me. Your cookies were as good as mine." I snuck one this morning and they proved the "rule" that cookies taste better the second day.

The smile on his face lit up the room.

"Maybe we can make cookies together?"

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." And I hoped we'd have time before Santa decided he needed me back.