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“They have no idea, do they?” I murmured in wonder, glancing down at a little girl’s hand-drawn sign in her bedroom window: “Welcome, Santa!”
Xanther nodded thoughtfully. “That is the enduring gift we bring them - belief in something extraordinary.” His blue eyes grew distant with memory. “After centuries of deliveries, even I sometimes overlook how wondrous this ritual truly is through their eyes.”
“Well, you’ve definitely made it magical for me too,” I assured him sincerely.
Xanther’s expression warmed. “We shall keep the magic alive together from now on.”
The first descent came shortly after, upon the snowy roof of a quaint gingerbread Victorian. Xanther sprang nimbly over the side, harnessing the sack over his shoulder. I watched anxiously from my seat as he scooped several gaily wrapped presents from the overflowing cargo hold and disappeared down the chimney.
A few minutes later, his soot-smudged face popped grinning back into view. “Your turn, Mrs. Claus! Why don’t you deliver the next round?”
I hesitated, pulse racing as I broke character to ask in my normal voice, “Are you sure? What if someone wakes up and sees me?”
Xanther waved a dismissive hand. “Highly unlikely at this hour. But on the infinitesimal chance they do, simply say ‘Merry Christmas!’ in your kindly old voice and continue on. No lasting harm done.”
Sensing my lingering nerves, he added gently, “This is meant to be a joyful experience, Noelle. Don’t overthink - just embrace the spirit of the role.”
Taking courage from his confidence in me, I took a deep breath and mustered my best face-achingly jolly smile. “Well then, ho ho ho! Here I go!”
Donning the huge red sack, I clambered awkwardly over the sleigh’s side. My voluminous skirts tangled momentarily in the rigging, but I managed to extract myself with only minor embarrassment. This new elderly body took some getting used to!
I crept to the chimney and peered doubtfully down its dark throat. But envisioning the children’s excitement come morning bolstered me. I had to at least try.
“Merry Christmas!” I called softly, then slid feetfirst into the void, sleeve protectively over my fake white hair. Immediately, I was swallowed by blackness and gripped by an unsettling sensation of floating. Before panic could set in, the tunnel spat me out in a puff of soot.
I found myself miraculously standing upright in a cozy living room. The space was lit only by the softly glimmering tree, under which I arranged the colorfully wrapped gifts with trembling hands. This family’s Christmas morning was going to be magical!
When finished, I hesitated only a moment before pinching my nose and plunging back up the chimney to emerge disheveled but triumphant!
Xanther’s approving grin was worth a hundred chimney chutes as he helped brush me off. “See, you’re a natural!”
From house to house we traveled, falling into an efficient rhythm. While Xanther filled stockings at the fireplace, I arranged gifts beneath the tree, reveling in this secret act of joy. Occasionally, we crossed paths in our work, sharing sooty grins.
Seeing the heaps of thoughtfully chosen presents, always just right for each family, I gained renewed appreciation for the massive Yule operation required to make this night possible. And Xanther oversaw it all, century after century! His dedication was humbling. I only hoped to live up to the honor of supporting him.
As midnight approached, we soared over a familiar neighborhood - my own town! I gazed down wistfully at the houses and parks I had known since childhood. Part of me wished I could peek in on my family, but I knew even Santa had limits.
Xanther seemed to sense my thoughts. As we prepared to move on, his hand on my shoulder kept me lingering a moment longer. “They miss you dearly but are grateful you found happiness,” he said gently. “That brings them comfort and joy this season.”
My throat tightened with emotion. Of course Xanther would understand. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I’m sure you’re right.”
With a last fond glance, I turned away from the past toward the future - one still being written. Xanther and I clasped hands as the sleigh climbed higher, carrying us on our journey.
Deliveries passed in a blur - countless chimneys and trees and stockings, millions of gifts dispensed across the globe by our tireless team. We paused only occasionally to replenish provisions and let the reindeer rest.
When the first golden hints of dawn finally peeked over the horizon, I was positively sooty, exhausted, and elated. Xanther proclaimed it the smoothest Christmas Eve he could recall, with larger than usual gift stockpiles too. The holiday spirit seemed especially bountiful this year.
Yet despite the constant motion, I remained alert for any signs of being spotted. Xanther had warned me that their magic cloaking allowed near-invisibility, but not absolute. And sure enough, a few familiar incidents arose.
In one home, as I arranged mountains of gifts under an enormous tree strung with popcorn, the lamps suddenly blazed on. I froze, spine rigid, before a delighted shriek of “Santa! Mommy, look!” sounded from the stairs.
I raised one white-gloved finger to my lips with a gentle “Shh” before dropping my voice to a grandmotherly warble. “Merry Christmas, little one! Don’t wake your parents now. Back to bed you go!”
The girl’s eyes stretched huge, but she scampered back up the stairs without protest. I heaved a relieved sigh before leaping up the chimney just as groggy adult voices sounded from the hallway. Near miss!
Another time, I burst coughing from a chimney directly into the startled faces of a feline couple enjoying late-night cuddles by the fireside. They stared, frozen in shock, before simultaneously hissing and scrambling for cover, puffed tails thrashing.
“Ho ho ho, so sorry!” I called after them apologetically. Perhaps catnip treats in their stockings would smooth things over. With a chuckle and shake of my soot-coated head, I hurried on with my task.
