She’s as still as an icicle outside. I don’t even think she’s blinking.
My father is an inch taller than me and given his girth, he appears larger than life. Since he assumed the role of Claus, he’s also taken on an aura that can’t really be explained, only experienced. I can only explain it like this: he’s more than magnetic, he’s a force of nature, chosen, as he says from above, to bring joy to children around the world.
He holds that energy within him.
“Dad, this is Charlie Horseman,” I tell him what he already knows because I know he’s read her mind. His powers during the season are greater than mine.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” he says politely as he reaches out his giant hand to shake hers.
It takes her a second to move and that’s only because I squeeze her hand. She quickly drops mine and rushes to shake my dad’s.
“It’s nice to meet you… ehhh…Mr.—” she stumbles over her words.
“Call mefadir,” his accent thickens when he says the Old Norse word for ‘father’.
I try to mask my surprise at his request. My sister and I, and occasionally Jayson, are the only ones who ever call him that.
“Ummm,” I watch Charlie’s face turn bright red. “Nice to meet you, fadir.”
Her accent is perfect.
The pleasure I get from hearing her say the familiar word is something I’m not quite ready to acknowledge.
He looks over at me and from the glint in his eyes I know his mind is racing, but he won’t let me in. I’m okay with it, because the feeling is mutual.
I block him out of my mind as much as he blocks me out of his.
It’s an unspoken rule between the two of us, since I turned thirteen and the gift became stronger.
“I didn’t realize you’d be coming in,” he says apologetically.
“Neither did I,” I say.
“She signed the clause.” He states, switching to Old Norse.
“She did,” I respond in our old tongue.
“I have questions,” he continues.
“They’ll have to be answered later,” I say.
I watch as Charlie’s gaze moves back and forth. I’m sure she realizes we’re speaking of her.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you guys, but is there a lady’s room I can use?” She asks politely, but I have a feeling it’s because she needs a moment alone to process my dad.
Meeting him in person is not for the faint of heart.
“Down that hall on the left side, my dear,” dad points out kindly.
She couldn’t leave us fast enough. I know it’s a lot to process for her.
We watch her until she disappears.
“Is she properly scared?” Dad wonders.
“More than likely,” I reply dryly. “You’re a lot to take in.”
Dad looks offended. “I’m the jolliest man around!”
