Page 1 of Santa Daddy’s Accidental Little Helper

CHAPTER ONE

Elaine

The cheers of the children all around me was deafening, but I could still see the disaster waiting to happen. I had been watching the child currently sitting on Santa's lap ever since he got in line, and I had seen the way he had been interacting with the baby brother sitting next to him. Despite the warning signs, I knew there was nothing I could do but watch the disaster unfold before me.

This was not my first career choice when I moved here from my hometown, but it was the best I could do this close to Christmas. The mall was always looking for people to help out with the Santa visits, and, at fifteen an hour, it would have kept the lights on through the holidays. Jessica needed my help, and, as the big sister, I would be crazy to say no.

The baby brother was the first on Santa's lap, and, barely old enough to even talk, he made a face at Santa, who chuckled at the child in response. I didn't know who was under the beard, but I prayed he was a Santa veteran because, once the baby brother was in the arms of the parents, it was the boy's turn. The boy smiled as he sat down in Santa's lap.

"Are you the real Santa Clause?" he demanded in the same fashion as hundreds of kids his age around the country. "I don't think you're the real Santa." The man dressed as Santa Clause chuckled as he wagged a finger at the boy.

"That's no way to speak to Santa, little boy," he remarked, the merry twinkle in his eye. "That kind of behavior can put you on the naughty list." The little boy didn't seem convinced as he sat there.

"I don't believe you are Santa," he continued, crossing his arms at Santa as he spoke. "I bet you that beard isn't even real." That was the moment I knew we needed to do something.

Immediately, I raced forward, followed closely by the dad, who had left the younger brother in the care of the mother as he hurried to stop his son. Meanwhile, as the child reached up to tug at his beard, the man dressed as Santa Clause was already trying to avoid the boy's sticky fingers, which were red and grubby from the candy cane he had been eating. Despite our efforts, before I or the father could reach them, the boy grabbed onto the beard and gave it a sharp yank.

As soon as the beard came off, sticking to the boy's hands as if caught in glue l, all the children started to yell and scream, tears flowing down their faces as they clung to their parents. This was what I had been afraid of, and I felt absolutely terrible for having failed the man I was supposed to be helping. As the father grabbed the boy to rebuke him, Santa grabbed my arm and pulled me in.

"Put up the sign," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke. "Tell everyone to come back in a bit while Santa takes a quick break." Immediately, I nodded in response and did exactly as he said.

The process for dealing with an out of character Santa was simpler than I anticipated. I would put out the sign that said Santa would be back and helped escort the unmasked Santa to the break room, where we would wait about an hour or so for the parents to calm down their children. After allowing them a chance to settle down and forget all about the unmasking, we would parade back out with Santa and continue with the shift. If children asked, we made up a lie about it being Santa's twin, who didn't have a beard, helping Santa with his daily tasks.

As soon as the sign was up, a lot of parents looked upset at the fact that their children weren't going to be allowed to see Santa at this point, but, after seeing the situation, they immediately started to disperse throughout the rest of the mall. Once they were gone, I turned back and found that Santa had already put back on his beard, and we made our way over to the break room, which was located in the main offices of the mall. As soon as we were safe from the view of the public, he removed the beard and sat down at the table, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Well, that was a disaster," he commented as he pulled off the hat and set it down on the table next to the beard. Seeing the stains of red in the beard, he groaned in annoyance. "I think we're going to have to get the spare beard until we can get this cleaned." Seeing how tired he looked, I lowered my gaze.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't stop him," I told him, trying not to burst into tears. "I should have done something before it was too late." Much to my surprise, he waved a hand dismissively at me.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured me. "Kids do this all the time around the holidays. That's why we have plans for when it does happen. It happened nearly three times last week." Shocked, I stared at him in disbelief.

"Really?" I asked as I stared at him. He chuckled as he nodded in response.

"Of course," he informed me. "These days, children are always questioning the truth about Santa Clause, especially around that age. The best we can do is keep them from spoiling it too badly for the rest of the children." Seeing the madness that was our situation, I sat down next to him at the table.

"So now we wait an hour?" I asked, and he nodded as he looked back down at the beard.

"That's right," he agreed. "I suppose, while we're waiting, I should try to see about cleaning the candy cane out of the beard. If I don't try now, this beard might be permanently ruined." With a gentle smile, he looked back up at me. "Don't worry about it. It gets better." With that, he rose to his feet and made his way over to the sink in order to try to wash out the beard.