A Gift For Santa. Beth Carpenter

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       CHAPTER THREE

      Twenty-one days till Christmas

      “...AND A NINJA SWORD, and books, and a puzzle.”

      Chris glanced over to make sure the parents were able to hear the conversation. They smiled and nodded, so apparently there were no surprises.

      He reached into the bowl beside his chair. “Got it. Have a merry Christmas, Sean. Here’s a candy cane.”

      Today, they were working a party for a large group of homeschoolers and their parents at the community center. Chris was starting to get the hang of this Santa thing. Kids were just people, but without the filters. They were noisier and messier, but also more spontaneous and joyful. And they believed in magic, some more than others. But whether they were skeptics or true believers, they knew Christmas was special. And he got to be the spirit of Christmas. How cool was that?

      Of course, a two-minute conversation with a kid who believed you had the power to make their dreams come true was a far cry from actual parenting. Even his own father used to feign interest in Chris’s activities every once in a while. How did parents do this? A couple hours of holding the kids on his lap and talking to them left Chris as tired as if he’d been digging ditches, and yet parents did it all day, every day.

      Marissa started to lead the next child forward, but another boy, maybe four or so, ran to the front of the line. “My turn to talk to Santa.”

      “No, it’s Nolan’s turn.” Marissa’s voice was firm. “You need to get in line with the others.”

      “But I wanna go now.” Tears squeezed from the boy’s eyes and he wailed, “It’s my turn. My turn.” He sobbed as if his heart were breaking, and sank to the floor.

      Chris winced. So much for getting the hang of things. He’d have to remember this next time he felt cocky. The boy’s mother hurried over, but made no move to pull him away. Instead, she crossed her arms and made eye contact with Marissa.

      Marissa gave her a sympathetic smile and led the next boy in line around the weeping child sprawled across the vinyl floor. “Santa, this is Nolan.”

      Okay, if that’s how they were going to play it. “Hi, Nolan.”

      Chris watched the other boy from the corner of his eye while carrying on his conversation with Nolan, at least as well as he could with earsplitting screams a few feet away. Within minutes, the sobs diminished and the boy opened his eyes. When he realized no one was paying attention to him, he stopped crying as if turning off a faucet, and allowed his mother to escort him to the back of the line. When his turn came twenty minutes later, he cheerfully recited a long Christmas list, including requests for his baby brother and the dog. He gave no indication he even remembered he’d had a tantrum.

      Wouldn’t that be great? To be able to simply put past mistakes behind you, without giving them another thought? At what age did you start to keep track of all the stupid, thoughtless and selfish actions that you and the people around you committed, letting them build up into walls? Chris wondered. On the other hand, what if everyone just acted as rotten as they wanted, without consequences? There was a reason people called it childish behavior. Kids were a puzzle.

      How did Marissa know how to handle all this stuff? She was an only child, raised by an older couple. But somehow, she seemed to know exactly how to manage a herd of excited kids without breaking a sweat. She’d always wanted kids. Maybe she did a lot of children’s outreach programs with her job. That sounded like something she would enjoy. Or maybe she had a boyfriend with kids back in the lower forty-eight, so was used to hanging around with them. Chris pushed that thought away without giving himself time to wonder why it made him feel antsy.

      Once he had talked with all the twenty or so kids at the party, he and Marissa went outside to watch the reindeer rides. With no snow, Becky had hitched up a red wagon that could hold one or two children at a time. Marissa offered to take over and give her a break.

      Chris pulled out his phone from inside his Santa jacket and snapped a few photos of Marissa leading the reindeer and wagonful of wide-eyed children around the parking lot. “They’re having fun,” he stated.

      Becky waved at the little ones before turning to him. “Don’t post those online without their parents’ permission.”

      “No problem.” The photos were just for him, although he wasn’t sure why he wanted them. To remember the day, he supposed, and his time as Santa Claus. It surely had nothing to do with how cute Marissa looked in her elf costume, leading the reindeer and laughing with the kids.

      When the party was over, Chris helped Becky and Marissa load their equipment. After waving goodbye to the last child, Becky went inside to collect the fee. Chris arranged the sections of the Santa throne in the bed of the truck. “How long until you go back to work?” he asked Marissa.

      She flashed him a look of suspicion. “That depends.”

      “On what?”

      “On when I find a job.”

      Chris closed the tailgate. “You didn’t have one lined up before you quit? That doesn’t sound like you.”

      “I didn’t quit. The facility I was working at closed down.”

      “Why?”

      “Lack of funds.” She pushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Don’t worry. I’ve got applications out and a headhunter looking. I’m sure I’ll find something soon.”

      “And СКАЧАТЬ