Chapter Eight

All in all, Wade took over about an hour’s worth of carol-oke, which was a ton of time for Santa Claus to spend away from center stage. He did it in bits and pieces scattered across the whole day, and it was like he always knew exactly the right time to step in. Whenever she could feel her nerves fraying and her headache creeping back in, Wade would appear her side and give her a chance to grab some much-needed peace and quiet.

The tinny, staticky, repetitive carol-oke singalongs were bad enough, but Mira couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to ping-pong back and forth leading those and playing Santa—the most stressful role in the Christmas Village, with the highest stakes. Either Wade was superhuman, with untold levels of resilience, or ... or he needed this day to end even more than she did.

Mira was guessing it was the latter.

And that meant a lot. As she stood on the sidelines, savoring the last few seconds of this five-minute break and watching him steer a pack of tiny towheaded kids in identical reindeer sweaters through “The Chipmunk Song,” she felt like no one had ever witnessed a greater act of chivalry. Noblewomen in King Arthur’s court might have watched their would-be lovers joust or duel enemy knights to the death, but was that any more impressive than this? She was going to say no.

Against all odds, she’d been lucky enough to meet a sweet, devastatingly hot guy who would sing squeaky-voiced holiday novelty songs in public just to give her a break.

Never mind whether or not they had cobbled together enough time with each other for it to feel like they’d already had their first date: she was starting to think she would happily marry him.

As “The Chipmunk Song” faded out, Mira went to relieve him.

“Thank you, Santa,” she said, wincing a little at the raspy croak her voice had turned into over the last few hours. “I can take it from here.”

The reindeer-sweatered children took the changeover as the natural ending to their carol-oke experience and issued sweet thanks of their own before galloping off to meet up with their parents.

“You sure about this?” Wade said. “You sound—”

“Like a frog in emotional distress?”

“I was just going to say ‘not great.’”

“That’s very diplomatic of you. I’m fine, honestly. I don’t know if you heard any of my singing earlier, but this might actually be an improvement.”

She could tell he was about to embark on some valiant defense of her voice, but then they both spotted Marsh on the horizon. She made sure to get the ear plugs out well before he had the chance to spot them.

“An ominous presence grows near,” Mira said in her best Galadriel voice. “Closer by each moment, and we cannot stop its approach.” She reverted back to normal. “Better get back to the chair.”

Wade eyed Marsh’s distant figure with real dislike, something she hadn’t glimpsed in him all day, no matter how overwhelming and trying things had gotten.

He gave a tight nod. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble either,” Mira said, because it was true—but she had to admit that they weren’t exactly evenly balanced on that front. Wade was only going to work here a week, so he had no scheduled bonus to lose. She was the vulnerable one, and he had been looking out for her. She wished there was something she could do for him in return.

She kept thinking about that even as she led a new group of kids through “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” It was a handy way to distract herself from her sore throat.

Maybe she could get Wade a proper Christmas present? The Christmas Village closed a little earlier than the rest of the mall, so she would have time to do some shopping after work.

But she was trying hard to save every spare cent she could, since it was all going into the retirement home fund. If she bought him anything, she would have to eye the price tag and keep it on the low end, and she wanted to feel generous, not careful.

What she wanted to give Wade, as over-the-top and way-too-soon as it sounded, was herself.

I could tie myself to his bed with red and green ribbons and wish him some very happy holidays .

But that would be a present for herself at least as much as it would be one for Wade. And it was probably something that should wait until after they had had their first kiss.

Mira was just finishing rasping out the end of “Rudolph” when Marsh came up to glower at her.

The kids must have instinctively sensed that he was a downer, because they yelped, “Thanks, angel lady!” and scurried away.

“Why are they calling you an angel?” Marsh said.

Mira gestured at the Galadriel dress. “They thought I looked like the one their parents put on top of the Christmas tree. Minus the wings.”

Marsh wrinkled his nose at how raw her voice sounded, so she guessed she would grant that while he was a micromanaging asshole who liked to take petty revenge on his subordinates, he was really no more than a minor league sadist.

“Go get some cough drops from the Outpost before you leave,” he said. “You sound terrible.”

Because you made me sing all day.

“I will.” Mira surreptitiously checked her watch. “Just a few minutes left before we close up.”

“Yes.” Marsh avoided making eye contact with her as he added, “We won’t move forward with all-day carol-oke. Out of concern for your health.”

Mira was almost amused that that was the excuse he was going with. It wasn’t bad, actually. She had suspected he wouldn’t admit that it had been a terrible idea to begin with, no matter how many parents had filled out complaint forms—and she knew a bunch of them had. But like she’d told Wade, she’d had her money on “the world wasn’t ready for my brilliant vision,” not “I will reluctantly sacrifice my gold-star idea so Mira doesn’t lose her voice again.”

“Thank you,” she said, probably a beat too late for him to believe she really bought it.

Marsh’s eyes narrowed, but he let her be. For now.

“I hope our fly-by-night Santa made at least one appearance over here,” he said, “since he had so many opinions about how today should go.”

That sentence was so ridiculous that Mira wasn’t even sure which part of it to object to first. Reluctantly, she ruled out the “at least one appearance” bit: Wade had done way more for her than Marsh had ever expected or wanted, but Marsh would just take it as a sign that he was slacking off on his actual Santa duties. It wouldn’t matter to him that Wade had always smoothed things over with the families.

She settled on “fly-by-night” instead, and she chose her words carefully.

“I’m pretty sure Wade has had a shop here at Honey Brook for years now. He may not be an experienced Santa, but that doesn’t mean he’s not reliable and trustworthy.”

Besides, Wade wasn’t the one who ditched us. That was Petey, the Santa you hired .

She didn’t say that, though. She’d always liked Petey, after all. And since his sudden departure was the only reason she had met Wade, she liked him even more now.

It didn’t matter what she said. Marsh wasn’t listening to her anyway.

“Yes, yes,” he said distractedly.

He had the look of a guy who was already hatching his next Big Idea to Revolutionize the Industry, ignoring the fact that an outdoor mall’s pop-up Christmas Village wasn’t the kind of thing anyone wanted to see revolutionized. Freshened up and improved, maybe, but not completely overhauled. The parents wanted the hit of nostalgia that came from seeing that their kids were having the exact same experience they used to. The kids wanted the meet-and-greet with Santa that a thousand movies and TV shows had led them to expect. Marsh was the only one who wanted it to be something different.

Wondering what tomorrow would bring just made Mira tired. There was a difference between having your job be exciting and having it be exhausting.

At least she was done with all-day carol-oke. She needed her voice for podcasting, and another day like this might have meant delaying an episode until she could drink enough tea and suck enough cough drops to get back on her feet.

Marsh promised—threatened?—to see her tomorrow and zipped off. Mira suspected he was trying to get out of the line of fire of any parents who wanted to give him a piece of their mind about all the racket today.

As fun as that would have been to watch, she was glad he’d had enough sense to clear out. It made closing up much more relaxing.

After the elves had politely shooed out the last guests, Mira started sweeping up artificial snow. Technically, the custodial staff would take care of it if they left it, but she hated leaving extra work for them. Besides, if they didn’t keep it contained, the wind would blow it all around the mall and make a huge mess. Better to deal with it before that could happen.

And after she’d spent all day hearing the same songs over and over again, it was kind of nice to have a concrete task where she could see exactly how much she was accomplishing. It was so easy to let the swish of her push broom against the cobblestones get her into a meditative state that it took her a second to notice that someone else had started sweeping alongside her.

She knew it was Wade before she even looked up.

“Long day?” Wade said.

Mira laughed even though it hurt. “The longest. But it would have been even longer if it hadn’t been for you.”

“And Milo’s ear plugs.”

“Yeah, but he told me that you’re the one who asked him to give them to me. Thank you for that.”

Wade shrugged. “I know some people wear them at concerts so they can enjoy the music without getting their eardrums blasted out. I thought it might work for this too.”

“It did. I could still hear the kids, but all the noise was a lot more bearable. How did Santa duty go?”

“It went.”

“Ouch. That bad, huh?”

He gave her another one of those eye-crinkling smiles that made her feel unsteady on her feet. “No, not too bad, really. I’m just still getting a handle on it. I didn’t realize how often the kids would want to interrogate Santa. My favorite was, ‘Well, why can’t I have a snow leopard for Christmas? It’s the only thing I want!’”

“You need a default ‘no dangerous wild animals’ policy.”

“Not to mention explanations for how I get everywhere in one night, whether I come to houses where no one celebrates Christmas, whether I like rich kids better—”

That last one made her wince.

“Exactly,” Wade said with great feeling. “It’s a lot to deal with. I bet Petey was better at it.”

“I bet he wasn’t.”

The strength of her reaction surprised her, because Petey had been a very good Santa: cheerful, lighthearted, and ready to roll with whatever hassles the day served up. But he didn’t take anything too seriously, and some of the kids’ questions were serious. He could have rattled off an excuse for Santa’s “no snow leopards” policy without missing a beat, but would he have been able to tackle bigger questions about why life was unfair?

If she was a five-year-old whose wish was for her parents to get back together, or a seven-year-old from a struggling family who had just noticed that “Santa” seemed to bring a lot more gifts to her richer friends than he did to her, she would want Wade, not Petey. He felt like he would be the better choice for a broken heart.

Maybe that was one reason she was so drawn to him. Her heart wasn’t broken, but all her worries about taking care of her parents had chipped away it over the last few months. Petey could have distracted her from that ... but Wade comforted her. Helped her. And he did it without even knowing what was going on with her.

“I bet you’re a great Santa Claus,” Mira said fiercely. “I’m sure the kids love you. And I know their parents do.”

“Because I bought them cookies,” Wade said with a self-deprecating smile. “Speaking of which, I should go settle my gingerbread tab.”

She swept the last of the snow into the dustpan, dumped it in the garbage, and followed along. It felt so natural to accompany him that she had to fight the urge to slip her hand into his.

Maybe she could get a hot cider to go, and that would help her throat. An hour ago, she would have said that all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep the rest of this day away, but being with Wade had given her a new burst of energy. She didn’t want to say good night to him, not yet.

Then again, this would be a bad evening for a first date. She sounded like a frog—and not one who could be kissed and turned into a princess.

“Hi, Natalie,” Wade said to the elf at the bakery stall. Mira was impressed that he’d learned everyone’s names so fast. “I need to settle up before you close for the night.”

“No, you don’t,” Natalie said with a genuinely elfin grin. “The parents all paid.”

Wade blinked. “But I told them it was free as a thank-you for them letting those kids cut.”

“You’re underestimating just how grateful they were to you for shutting down the endless rounds of ‘Jingle Bells.’ I think they guessed you would have to cover the costs, and they decided to make it easy on you.”

“Those weren’t the only families I sent over here, though.”

Natalie arched her eyebrows. “You mean all those times when you went over to give Mira a break?”

Mira had been plenty grateful then, but she could see how the parents wouldn’t be. There hadn’t always been an onslaught of “Jingle Bells” going on to make them feel like he was helping them as much as he was her. No wonder he’d bribed them a little.

“We took up a fund to cover that,” Natalie said. “You were helping a fellow elf, and we elves look out for each other. It’s the spirit of Christmas. And the spirit of the Elf Mafia.” She gave Wade a faux-intimidating look. “Believe me, you don’t want to reject the generosity of the Elf Mafia.”

“I would never,” Wade assured her. “Seriously, thank you all. That’s really nice. I wish I could thank the parents too.”

“You thanked them by saving their sanity.” Natalie waved them off. “Now both of you, get out of here.” Her smile took on a sly cast. “Didn’t Becky say the two of you were grabbing dinner together tonight?”

Becky had said no such thing, and Natalie knew it. Mira was sure she did. But when a bunch of teenagers decided to play matchmaker, there was no way of getting out of it. Her time in the Christmas Village had taught her never to underestimate the collective power of people who had grown up using group chats.

She had a thousand reasons to put off dating until after the holidays were over, and only good reason—Wade—to go ahead with it now. But Wade overpowered everything else.

Well, that and you really didn’t want to reject the generosity of the Elf Mafia. Everybody knew that.

“I’m good with dinner,” Mira said in her newfound croak. “If you don’t mind me sounding like this.”

The look on Wade’s face said he really, really didn’t.