A Date with an Elf Read online

  “He asked how I was doing and if I was seeing anyone.”

  Lindy laughs. “Wow. Is he trying to get you back?”

  I huff. “Yep. I told him I wasn’t interested in wasting time with someone who doesn’t want the same things I do. I mean, my God, I’m thirty-four years old. I don’t want to be fifty and having my first child.” Meadowbrook is a small town, but we’re right in the middle between Richmond and Norfolk. With the way I travel around looking for talent, I’ve met men from all over Virginia. I’ve dated a couple here and there, but every one of them have been so focused on their careers they can’t think of anything else. I’m focused on mine too, but I also want to live life and enjoy it. Money is good to have, but it’s not what makes me happy.

  Lindy bumps me with her shoulder. “The right guy will come along, Bree. That I can promise you.”

  I wink at her. “Maybe Santa will be able to find him for me.”

  “Ask him,” Brittany says, her voice all cute and innocent. “I’ll do it for you.”

  Brittany’s only four years old, but she’s smart as can be. “Thank you, Britt. Maybe if we both ask him it’ll happen.”

  My dad’s friend, Jody, is already in place at the sleigh, looking exactly like Santa Claus in my grandfather’s costume and red and white hat with the puffball on the end. One thing I loved about my grandfather was that his beard was real. Jody’s is the same, and he starts growing it out in the middle of the year to get ready for Christmas.

  He spots me with Lindy and waves. The line is already long, but it moves fast. “Go get in line, and I’ll see you both up there.” I give Britt a quick squeeze. “I’ll sneak you an extra candy cane.”

  She snickers. “Okay.”

  I walk past all the kids in line, and almost all of them know me since I’ve been Santa’s elf for twenty-two years. Jody stands and hugs me. “Ready for another season?”

  I laugh. “You bet.”

  He lets me go and sits down on the sleigh. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

  Looking out at all the smiling faces in the crowd, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Seeing all the joy really does make me happy. “I love doing it. It makes me feel like my granddaddy’s right here with me.”

  “And he is,” Jody murmurs. “This was his favorite time of the year.”

  I wave my hands in front of my face to keep from crying. “Mine too. All right, let’s get to work.” Turning toward our waiting guests, I wave for the first little boy and his mother to come up. His name is Matthew, and I remember him from last year. He had asked for a real-life dinosaur, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t get it. “Hey there, Matthew. I think you grew two inches since last year.” I wink at his mother, and she smiles. I help him up onto Santa’s lap, and he goes through his spiel of everything he wants. Usually, kids all want the same things: electronics, money, games, dolls, etc. Sometimes, we get children who want their deceased loved ones back or their pets who died. It breaks my heart because I know there’s no way they can get them back.

  Once Matthew finishes his visit, I help several dozen other kids onto Santa’s lap and send them off with a candy cane. Next in line is Brittany, and she’s bouncing with excitement. I pick her up and set her onto Santa’s knee.

  “I remember you,” Santa tells her. “Brittany, right?”

  Brittany beams. “Yes.”

  Jody winks up at me and then focuses back on her. “What would you like to have this Christmas?”

  Brittany closes a hand over her mouth and giggles while she goes through her list. It turns out I have a couple of the things she wants already wrapped and ready for her. Once she’s done, she starts to slide off his lap but then stops. “Oh, I also want to ask for one more thing.”

  Santa leans in close. “What is it?”

  Brittany smiles up at me. “I want Aunt Bree to be happy.”

  “I see,” Santa says. “And how can I make her happy?”

  Brittany giggles again. “She wants a boyfriend.”

  It takes all I have not to burst out laughing. What she’s saying is so sweet. Santa hands her a candy cane and laughs. “All right, sweet Brittany, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Santa.”

  Lindy comes up and helps Brittany off the sleigh. “Try hard on that last request, Santa.”

  “Yes, please do,” I add, whispering the words to him.

  He chuckles. “Don’t worry. You’ll meet him very soon.”

  2

  Caleb

  Hiring a moving company to move Alyssa and me from Charlotte back to my hometown of Meadowbrook was the best idea I’ve come up with in about a year. The hassle of moving is far less of a nightmare when someone else is doing all the heavy lifting for you. I just wish the moving company had to unpack, put away, and decorate my new house as well. I sigh heavily as I look at the perfectly square brown boxes stacked throughout my living room. Granted, they’re stacked in an orderly fashion and tucked into the corner. If I had moved them, they’d be haphazardly strewn everywhere. Boxes for the living room would be in the bathroom, and the things I need for the kitchen would be in my bedroom closet. Disorganized is the only way to describe my life right now.

  Instead of unpacking, I sit down on the couch, lean back, close my eyes, and ignore the thick plastic covering the new sofa. When I decided to move, I did so knowing I needed a fresh start. This meant new furniture. Not just in the living room, but the dining and bedrooms as well. Even the bathrooms have new bathmat colors and towels. My therapist disagreed with me, so I replaced her as well. Well, not exactly. I just quit going. I wasn’t going to pay someone to tell me I’m making a mistake in the way I’m handling my grief or how I decide to start over. What works for one isn’t necessarily going to work for another, and for me, everything needs to be new. It’s not that I’m trying to forget my wife; it’s that I’m trying to move on and give my daughter the happiest life I can, and if that means new furniture, then so be it.

  Alyssa comes into the room and approaches me. She’s quiet, like a mouse, as she likes to say, and tries to sit on the couch without making any noise. I try to hold back a smile but can’t. If it weren’t for her, I don’t know where I’d be right now. She’s been my saving grace this past year.

  “Daddy,” she whispers. “This couch is very noisy.”

  I open one eye and peer toward her. Nestled in her arm and pressed to her chest is the teddy bear the family who received my wife’s heart gave to Alyssa.

  “I kind of like the plastic.”

  “Ew, it’s sticky and hard.”

  “But it’ll keep the couch clean.”

  Alyssa sighs. “Well, I’m going to have to bring my bean bag downstairs because I’m not sitting on this anymore.” She slides off and grimaces. “I’m telling Nana,” she mutters. This gets my attention, and I sit up while Alyssa giggles.

  “I’ll take the plastic off, but because I love you so much you can still bring your bean bag downstairs.”

  She shakes her head. “Maybe. I don’t know if I want you to sit on it.”

  “Hey,” I say as I pull her toward me. “That’s not very nice. Santa’s watching, ya know.”

  Alyssa smiles a very toothless grin. “Nana says I have been a very good girl.”

  She has, all things considered. Christmas is something I’m not looking forward to. I don’t know how to be the mom my wife was at this time of year. Last year, my mother saved the holiday and made it something special for Alyssa. I know she’ll do the same this year, but I can’t depend on my mother to be grandma and play Santa forever. This year, I’ve vowed to make the holidays better for Alyssa.

  “You know what I’m thinking?”

  “What?” Alyssa asks.

  “I think that we need to unpack some boxes, and then we’ll go down to the square and visit Santa. After we see the holly jolly guy, we will go get some of the best hot cocoa you’ve ever had at my favorite place.”

  Alyssa thinks on this for a minute while sh
e taps her small index finger to her cheek. “Nana makes delicious hot chocolate.”

  “I know, but Aunt Mathie’s has the best.”

  “Who is this Aunt Mathie person? I don’t have an aunt with that name.” Alyssa puts both hands on her hips, and her poor bear is stuck between her arm and her side. It’s a good thing it is stuffed, or he’d be gasping for air.

  “Aunt Mathie is the name of the diner. It has been in the town square for a very long time, long before Nana was a little girl. When I was your age, Nana and Papa used to take your auntie Belle and me to visit Santa every year, and then we’d go to the diner for a special treat of hot cocoa. Sometimes, we’d get pie or a piece of cake. And then Papa would drive us around to look at all the Christmas lights.”

  Alyssa processes what I tell her and finally says, “Okay, I think we should go.”

  “Me too.”

  “But maybe not for hot cocoa. I don’t want to hurt Nana’s feelings.”

  “You won’t, I promise.”

  My daughter seems unsure, and so I do the next best thing. I pull my phone out of my pocket, go to my most recent calls, press my mother's name, the speakerphone button, and wait for her to answer. Before I can even say anything, Alyssa starts talking.

  “Nana, my daddy wants to take me to this auntie place, and I just don’t know. He says she has better hot chocolate than you. I told him he’s just silly because you make the best.”

  My mom chuckles on the other end. “Sweetie, if you’re going to Auntie Mathie’s, then I’m going to meet you there. I can’t remember the last time I went there for a special treat. What time should I meet you there?”

  Alyssa’s eyes go wide as she meets mine. “What time, Daddy?”

  I look at my wrist, only to realize I never put my watch on this morning. “Tell Nana we will call her in a couple of hours.”

  “Nana, did you hear my dad?”

  “I did. I’ll be waiting for your call, sweetie.”

  * * *

  Part of me wishes I hadn’t made plans with Alyssa to see Santa today of all days. I’m tired, emotionally drained, and not ready to face any of my former classmates. When I left Meadowbrook, I did so with no intentions of ever returning. Growing up in a small town has zero perks unless you’re a parent raising a family. As a teen, I hated this place. There wasn’t anything to do. Our movie theater never had the newly released movies. The nearest mall was an hour away, and the one highlight we had—the skating rink—shut down midway through my sophomore year of high school. Everyone in town played sports, whether they were good or not, and everyone gossiped. Church is the place everyone goes to if they need to know what’s going on or if they need to spread the news. And we all learned early on to stay away from the group of older women who are always seen together. If you rode by them on your bike, just a bit too fast, they were on the phone with your mother, grandmother, and your great aunt before you could even get home.

  Yet, here I am, back in the one place I said I’d never return. When you unexpectedly lose your partner, your wife, the mother of your child, you put your life into perspective. At first, I changed nothing about myself. I still left the house before six a.m. and returned after seven in the evening. I never thought about everything my wife did daily to keep our house running in perfect order. It never crossed my mind that someone had to pick Alyssa up from school, dance, or take her to her playdates. Truth be told, I had no idea what my wife did every day.

  Until I was forced to be the mom and dad.

  The decision to leave my job was easy. I could do everything I did as a freelancer, which is far more enticing because I can set my own hours. I can work when Alyssa is in school, asleep, or I can take her with me on commercial photoshoots. I also bought my house, intending to turn the she shed in the backyard into a photo studio to start taking family portraits. This is far from my dream job, but it’s what works for Alyssa, and she’s the only person who matters now.

  I have no choice but to park a few blocks from the town square. All around us, parents are walking with their children toward the center where the massive Santa’s Village is set up. I think the last time I paid attention was when I was ten. It was that year that I found out Santa wasn’t real, that some jolly fat man in a red suit didn’t actually come down our chimney and leave me the most sought-after toy. Once I learned his or her true identity, I no longer cared about the town and its activities. Now that I’m a parent, I’m back in the land of make-believe, and honestly, I love it. There’s something magical about Christmas and believing in Santa.

  When we come around the corner, Alyssa gasps, which brings a smile to my face. This, right here, seeing Christmas through her eyes, is worth being back in Meadowbrook. The green space that makes up most of the square is Santa’s workshop meets a winter wonderland. There’s a machine making snow, children are laughing, people are dressed as elves, and music is playing.

  “Oh my goodness,” she says with whispered excitement.

  “Pretty awesome, right?”

  “Can we go see Santa?” she asks, her eyes pleading as if I’d ever say no to her.

  I reach for her hand, squeeze it tightly and wink. “Let’s go.” Alyssa skips across the street, and I find myself wanting to do the same. As soon as we step into the village, the elf behind us puts a rope up, closing us in.

  “We made it just in time, Daddy.”

  “We did, but Santa is here until Christmas. We would’ve come tomorrow if we missed today.” Alyssa nods while I mentally prepare for the long line ahead.

  After about twenty minutes of her hopping in place, I let go of her hand and shake out my arm. She’s about pulled it out of its socket. “Are we almost there yet?”

  I scoop her up until she’s resting on my shoulder. It’s awkward and cumbersome but gives her the best vantage point. “Daddy, I see Santa,” she squeals so loud the people in front of us turn and look.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, but they tell me not to worry.

  After I put Alyssa down, she says, “This is the best place ever. How come we haven’t come before?”

  As much as I want to be honest with her, I can’t tell her that her mother never wanted to visit or that her mom thought the mall Santa was good enough. Sometimes, that’s the difference between growing up in the city versus a small town. People think their traditions are better, and minds are often hard to change.

  “I don’t know, kiddo. But we’re here now,” I tell her.

  We inch closer to the front, and that’s when I spot her—the elf—Bree. Her last name escapes me at the moment, but not her first. We went to high school together, always friends, but never close. We hung out with the same crowd but were never super friendly in a sense she would call me or I her. But I was always fascinated by her name. Most of the girls in school had long names they shortened, Samantha to Sam, Christine to Christy or Chris. Bree was always Bree. Never Brianna or Breland. She was always just Bree. And for as long as I can remember, she’s always been the elf that stands next to Santa.

  Bree looks up and catches me staring. I should turn away, but I don’t. I smile and offer a little wave, wondering if she even remembers who I am or if she thinks I’m some sort of weirdo. I’m going for the latter because what person waves to someone they haven’t seen in a handful of years. She waves back, but I’m sure it’s only because she’s an elf, and it’s her job to be friendly.

  When it’s our turn, Bree comes forward and crouches down to Alyssa’s eye level. “Hi, Alyssa. I’m Bree. I’m going to take you to see Santa in just a second. Can you tell me what your bear’s name is?”

  My mouth drops open, and Bree winks. How did she know my daughter's name?

  Alyssa holds her bear out and says, “This is Mommy.”

  “Mommy?” Bree verifies.

  Alyssa nods, and I wish I could just pick her up and take her home. “Yep, because that’s my mommy’s heartbeat inside. Listen.” Alyssa thrusts her bear toward Bree, who turns her ear toward its chest. Her eyes
meet mine, and she knows. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this one out.

  Bree smiles and takes Alyssa’s hand. “Make sure you tell Santa all about your bear. He’ll want to listen too.”

  They’re gone before I can protest. Alyssa climbs right up onto Santa’s lap and starts talking a mile a minute. My mom appears by my side and loops her arm in with mine.

  “Did you tell them we were coming?” I nod toward the elves and Santa.

  “Nope, why?”

  “Because Bree knew Alyssa’s name.”

  “Must be the magic of Christmas,” my mom says.

  “Yeah, must be,” I say just as Alyssa comes running with a handful of candy canes. When I look up, Bree is standing there, smiling.

  3

  Bree

  “How is it you knew every child’s name tonight?” I ask Santa.

  Jody winks and gives me a big Santa smile. “It’s my job to know. Plus, I have to live up to your grandfather’s legacy.” Which is true. My grandfather knew all the little kids. Occasionally, some out of towners would stop in that he wouldn’t know, but other than that, he was on top of it. His gaze averts to something over my shoulder, and he sighs. “I knew Caleb Allen was in town and figured he’d bring his little girl to see me at some point. His wife died in a car accident over a year ago. You remember him, don’t you?”

  Hearing that makes my heart hurt. I look over my shoulder and see him standing with his mother and holding his daughter’s hand as they talk to Mary-Anne, who is still wearing her ugly Christmas sweater from earlier today when she came into the gallery. “We graduated together. I haven’t seen him since then,” I say, turning back to him.

  Jody’s gaze saddens. “It kills me when little kids are sad. Did you hear what she asked me for?”

  Nodding, I swallow hard, trying my best to ignore the burning behind my eyes. She said she knew he couldn’t bring her mother back because she’s in heaven, but she wanted Santa to give her dad a gift that would make him happy and not sad. Such a smart little girl.