Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“The past is the past,” I say, laying my hand on hers.
She smiles, squeezing onto me. “Thank you, Holly. You’re a lovely girl. You always have been. My memory is hazy, for obvious reasons, but I always remember your big smile behind your camera.”
“That reminds me.” I reach into my bag. “Do you mind if I get some footage of the toy drive?”
“You’ll have to ask Asher, not me. I’m not sure he’ll want anybody seeing him in the Santa outfit.”
I smile. “I think he might find his Christmas spirit, slowly but surely …”
“If he is, he has you to thank for that.”
I try not to let the compliment fill me with too much pride.
As we wait for Asher to emerge, volunteers move around the room, setting up the decorations and the donations table. I get some B-roll of the prep. I’m wearing a fanny pack under my elf costume—sue me, no pockets—and my phone vibrates.
It’s my Secret Santa cell. Is he texting me instead of getting changed?
My Secret Santa: I sincerely cannot wait to meet your beautiful self tomorrow, my precious lady.
I reread the message twice to make sure I’m seeing it correctly. Has somebody spiked my water with eggnog? The message reads like it’s from my white knight, nothing like Asher. Maybe he’s nervous about the meeting.
Me: I’m curious too, I reply tentatively.
My Secret Santa: Just curious? Judging from our previous messages, I thought you’d be more excited than that.
Me: We’ll see how it goes tomorrow.
I put the phone on silent and return it to my fanny pack. My Secret Santa has become weird since agreeing to meet in person, which isn’t a good sign. If it is Asher, why would he want to meet in public, where Dan might see us?
Maybe I’m wrong about Asher dropping me hints. I don’t think he knows it’s me.
“Oh, marvelous!” Brianna stands up, clapping her hands together when Asher finally emerges.
I smile, forgetting my worries and doubts. Asher is the hottest Santa I’ve ever seen. Even with the padding, the suit’s fabric shows his broad shoulders and thick arms. His eyes stare stunningly from above the white beard.
“Can we get a ho, ho, ho?” I tease.
“Can it, elf,” he says, but even with the fake beard, I can see he’s smiling.
CHAPTER 18
ASHER
“What do you want for Christmas, young lady?”
The little girl grins up at me, her eyes alight with the joy of Christmas. When the toy drive started, getting into the spirit was difficult. My classic douchebag view of the holidays shadowed every aspect.
Yet as the gift table fills up, the children’s happiness spreads, and the parents and other grownups chat and drink eggnog. I can’t lie; I’m getting into it. The sweetest thing is watching Brianna and Mom being so happy, Mom directing the kids my way, my perfect elf flying about with her camera in her hand.
I talk with three more kids, and then a little boy skips to me. As he sits on my knee, my Snowflake walks to the edge of Santa’s Grotto, aiming the camera at me. She’s got a big smile on her face.
“Hey, Santa,” the boy says, cool as a cucumber.
“Hello, young man,” I say. “What would you like for Christmas?”
“I want a push-up competition with Saint Nick!” he yells, laughing, full of energy. He jumps to his feet. “Can you do it, Santa? Can you?”
I laugh, seeing that Mom has joined Holly. Mom even wraps her arm around Holly. It seems as natural as bonding with and wanting my best friend’s sister.
“Are you sure you’re up to the challenge?” I say, raising my voice.
The costume makes it so much easier to get into the spirit. I’m safe behind the beard and the hat.
“Yes!” the boy says, giggling.
“Can we get a parent over here to referee?” I call.
Everybody has crowded around the Grotto. I spot several people dropping cash into the donations bucket. The boy’s father joins us. We both get down into a push-up position. The little lad sticks his tongue between his teeth, taking the challenge seriously.
I watch him as we begin, watching for when his arms tremble. When I judge he’s going to fail, I shake. “Ho … ho … doh!” I collapse, and everybody laughs, then applauds.
The little kid leaps to his feet, his hands above his head. “I beat Santa! This is the best Christmas ever!”
Soon, I return to my seat with a big smile. Mom wipes a tear from her eye. She makes a heart symbol with her hands and clasps her hands to her chest. For the first time I can remember, the Christmas spirit flows through me.
After I see all the kids, I circulate the drive. The table is overflowing with gifts. I go into the next room and carry another table in. My elf gets more footage of this.