Chapter Twenty-one

Christmas Eve

They’d had a deal. And now it was showtime.

Wade couldn’t help being nervous. He had never even starred in a school play, so taking center stage for a crowd of enthusiastic children and their skeptical and still-wary parents was a little intimidating. The kids wanted awe and wonder. The parents were afraid this was going to turn into another reindeer disaster. And the Christmas Village’s future was on the line.

“You’ll be fantastic,” Mira whispered. Somehow, even with his unfamiliar polar bear body language, she could tell that he was having some stage fright. “It’s going to go great.”

She was back in her Galadriel costume, but there was something subtly different about it. The Arbogasts had told her that she could wear her own clothes or one of the not-exactly-matching elf costumes Marsh had loathed so much, and Wade had expected her to take them up on it.

Instead, she had decided to stick it out as Galadriel from start to finish. And now that she was wearing the out-of-place white gown because she actually wanted to, she looked even more stunning than ever. She was like a ray of ethereal light, like a fairy who had come down to earth.

Wade suspected that just as many people would be looking at her as they were at him. How could anyone not?

Outside their makeshift red and green tent, the crowd’s murmurs grew even louder and more impatient.

“I know, I know,” Milo said loudly, cutting through their grumblings. “If those of you at the front can just move forward a little more so the ones in the back can see better ....”

Wade still couldn’t believe that Milo—and a couple other members of the Elf Mafia—had come back for today. The Arbogasts were giving everyone their Christmas Eve pay whether they worked or not, so they could have just had the paid time off with no worries. But all some of them had needed to hear was that Wade and Mira had a plan to save the Christmas Village, and that had galvanized them into action.

“ Do. Not. Shove ,” Milo bellowed.

Good kids. And, thanks to their mafioso-like ruthlessness, surprisingly great when it came to crowd control.

“All right,” Milo said, calmer now. “Then we’re ready to start.”

Wade hoped Milo remembered how Wade had privately told him to introduce Mira. It was a small gesture, but he wanted to take all the awkwardness she’d felt (and all the confusion she’d faced) as the mall’s stray Lord of the Rings elf and turn it into something better, something that fit her natural beauty and grace.

“I’m sorry to say that Santa’s not available today,” Milo said. “He had to fly back to the North Pole to do some last-minute arrangements for tomorrow. But he’s left us a friend from the North Pole as a substitute—a friendly polar bear, escorted by the one and only Lady of the Winter!”

That was their cue, but Mira, who hadn’t known what Milo would call her, went still.

“Lady of the Winter,” she said softly. She touched his fur. “I’m guessing you’re the one who came up with that?”

Wade nodded. It suited her, especially today, when her gown seemed more snowy white than ever and her face was lit up with joy and anticipation.

Mira knelt down and hugged him. “Thank you,” she said in his ear, the words just for the two of them.

Then, before the crowd could break into open riot, they headed outside.

A hush fell over the Honey Brook plaza.

Wade could understand why. What everyone was seeing was a gorgeous woman who looked like she’d stepped out of a fairy tale, her hand lightly resting on the back of an enormous polar bear who trundled along at her side like there was nowhere else he’d rather be ... because there wasn’t.

Everyone seemed to breathe in at once, completely wonderstruck.

Then some guy in the back said, “Holy shit, that’s a real bear!”

“Kids!” Milo hissed at him. “Watch the language!”

“It’s not a real bear,” Mira said. No—the Lady of the Winter said. She was doing just a little bit of a voice, silvery and musical like bells. “He started off as a toy in Santa’s workshop, but Santa liked him so much that he let him stay at the North Pole for good. He’s my friend.”

“Does he have a name?” one child called out.

They really should have thought of that beforehand. He could almost hear Mira struggling to think of anything besides “Wade.”

“Snow,” she said finally. “His name is Snow.”

I don’t mind that, Wade’s polar bear decided. I was afraid she’d say Tim.

Wade couldn’t decide whether the more pressing question here was “why would she say Tim” or “what do you have against the name Tim,” but he didn’t have time to ask anyway. Besides, he guessed his polar bear was as entitled to random bugbears as everyone else.

“Snow, stand up,” Mira said. She cast a significant look at all the parents, as if willing them to understand that this was just how they said things like, “Siri, call home.”

Wade stood up on his hind legs, rising to his full height. At almost nine feet, he towered over the crowd, and this led to even more gasps.

“I know he’s big,” Mira said soothingly, “but I promise there’s nothing to be scared of. Snow, shake hands.”

They had rehearsed this bit to make it look just unnatural enough that the parents would go on believing it was all fake. Wade just stuck out one paw at first and held it there. It was only after Mira firmly grasped it that they shook properly.

Sure enough, he heard one wife whisper to her husband, “Oh, it just senses when you grab it.”

Bingo. That was exactly the impression they wanted people to have.

“Can he dance with you?” a little girl said.

They hadn’t practiced that, but Mira said, “Of course,” without any hesitation. She stepped close to Wade and put her arms as close to his shoulders as she should reach. “Snow, dance with me.”

With utmost gentleness, Wade brought his arms—well, front legs, in this case—around her in a loose circle, trying to make it seem like “Snow’s” machine intelligence wasn’t sophisticated enough to guess exactly where his dance partner was. It would make it look more convincingly animatronic, and it would ensure that he didn’t accidentally scratch her with his claws.

They started to sway together. At first, there was no music, but then someone started humming “Silent Night,” and the crowd took it up.

Snow and the Lady of the Winter danced.

Wade and Mira danced.

He would never have expected their first dance to be anything like this. If it had been up to him, he would have been human, so he could hold her more tightly, and they would have been alone.

But they would have plenty of chances to get it right. There would be a Christmas Eve where they danced together in front of their own tree, the silver tinsel turning gold-tinted from the flickering firelight. The cats would eventually join in—Wade knew from long experience how hard it was for a cat to ignore anything that wasn’t actually its business—and wind around their ankles, almost tripping them up. Mira would laugh first, or he would, and one of them would mention that if they went into the bedroom, they could shut the cats out and do a different kind of dancing ....

That moment felt bright and real, like it was captured in a snow globe. He knew that was where they were headed. They were dancing towards it.

The rest of the day felt less substantial in comparison: the flakes of fake snow drifting down in the globe.

He took children—including Billy Arbogast, who was there with his babysitter—on careful rides around the plaza, making sure to keep his gait measured so that it looked and felt as smooth as a jaunt on a carousel pony.

The kids were great. They hugged him, burying their faces in his thick fur. Sometimes those faces were a little sticky with hot chocolate and candy cane residue, but Wade didn’t mind. They were having a good time, and that was all he cared about right now.

He also loved seeing how they were with Mira. She moved like cool, sweet water through the overheated crowds, keeping things happy rather than hectic. As the Lady of the Winter, she commanded a kind of hushed reverence from them: no one would ever have inflicted unceasing rounds of screechy “Jingle Bells” on this Mira, who looked so serene and otherworldly.

Wade placed a bet then and there that the Lady of the Winter would filter out into the whole town’s subconscious, at least from a kid’s-eye view, and that soon she would feel like an age-old Christmas tradition.

By the time the Arbogasts arrived to see how everything was going, the Christmas Village was alive like never before.

The Elf Mafia was a well-oiled machine, serving up cookies and wrapping presents while keeping up a line of fun patter with parents and kids alike. The mood was buoyant, full of the most genuine Christmas cheer and joy Wade had ever seen. The whole mall hummed with activity, as shoppers drawn in by the polar bear stunt decided to hit up the stores to do some last-minute shopping.

Wade was back with Mira, with Snow and the Lady of the Winter doing another dance by popular demand. This time the tune was “Silver Bells.”

“This is ... this is something else,” Mr. Arbogast said. “Ah, did Billy get a ride too? I know he must have wanted one.”

Wade had to stop himself from nodding automatically—that wouldn’t have worked for Snow’s cover at all.

“Of course,” Mira said. For the first time in hours, a hint of hesitation crept into her voice. She wasn’t the Lady of the Winter right now, she was Mira—and she was hoping that they had saved her Christmas oasis after all. “But what about next year?”

Wade risked a tiny bit of non-robotic movement and rested his paw gently against her back, trying to lend her as much support as he could.

“You mean do I want the Christmas Village back next year?” Mr. Arbogast said incredulously. “Of course I do. Today has gone perfectly .” He waved a hand before Mira could say anything. “I know, I know—it won’t always stay perfect. But this makes me think that if we have the right management—and an, ahem, animatronic polar bear once a year as a special treat—we really could make this place a major business asset.”

“And an important part of the community, honey,” Mrs. Arbogast said, elbowing him.

“Sure, that too. I have a couple more things to say the two of you, but they can wait until everything’s wrapped up.” Mr. Arbogast checked his watch. “Which is ... now, isn’t it?”

It was, but Wade gave one last ride to a little boy who had gotten there late and looked like he would cry if he had to wait until next year. Then he and Mira and the Arbogasts headed into the tent.

As far as the Elf Mafia knew, they had gotten the animatronic polar bear from a top-secret source that only wanted to deal with Wade. No one was to see the polar bear moved in and out of the plaza. Once they went into the tent, the show was over, and the Elf Mafia would start clearing the place out. Wade could already hear the sounds of it happening.

He relaxed back into his human form. This was the first time he had ever stayed a polar bear for hours at a time, and it almost felt strange to back on two legs.

His polar bear was smug about it: Four legs are much more efficient for walking. Much sturdier.

I know, buddy .

“You were terrific,” Mira said, hugging him.

His polar bear might have an easier time staying on its feet, but his human form definitely had an easier time embracing Mira. He had no claws or killer strength to worry about, and he didn’t need to pretend to be a machine. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her hair.

“You were even better,” Wade said honestly. “You had all those people in the palm of your hand.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Mr. Arbogast said, clearing his throat until Wade and Mira reluctantly separated. “In fact, I can’t imagine anyone doing a better job running the Christmas Village. I hope I won’t have to. Mira, I know you’re not a regular Honey Brook employee, but would you be interested in a seasonal position? Managing the Christmas Village from here on out?”

Mira’s mouth fell open. No words came out.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” Mrs. Arbogast said quickly. “The Christmas Village is safe, don’t worry. Take a few days to think about what you want. It’s Christmas Eve—go be with your family. Go be with Wade.”

The undecided jaw-drop turned into a slow smile that Wade thought made her look even more beautiful than ever. He didn’t know how that was possible, but it was true.

“That sounds good,” Mira said. “I think I’ll do that.”