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Mac’s selling his house? I swear those words are like a blow to my gut. I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. He has time to call and put his house on the market, but he can’t give me one stupid call? He can’t spare one second to check and make sure I’m okay?
“He got a job offer he couldn't turn down. I pushed him to take it.” How horrible is it that I kind of regret that? It’s for the best he hasn't called me. It’s better to have a clean break, because I’m weak when it comes to him. I know I’d break down and beg him to come back.
“Nah. He’s a dumbass then.” Ted stares at me and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Jocelyn, but he is. If I got you to love me, nothing could get me to leave.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” The server stops by and drops our plates off.
I manage to get some food down and actually feel a bit better. “Thank you. I needed to get out of the house for a little.”
Ted snags the check off the table before I can. “I have to get back to work, but I’m going to swing by your place after.”
“Ted, I—”
“As friends, Jocelyn.” His face goes soft on me.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to do that.” I try to wave him off.
“It’s what friends do. I’ll see you tonight.”
I just nod. I can tell from the look on Ted’s face he’s not taking no for an answer. He’s worried about me. I wonder if Mac is thinking about me at all.
He’s probably too busy. I swipe at my cheeks again and turn into a water fountain when I pull back into my driveaway and see the ‘for sale’ sign outside of Mac’s house. When I get into the house I make a call. I think it’s time for me to move on, too.
17
SANTA
Cinnamon Stick won’t shut up as I do my best to ignore him and feed the reindeer. The North Pole is magical, just like I knew in my heart it would be. Aurora borealis overhead, crisp snow everywhere, and Christmas cheer floating in the air.
I should be happy.
I’m not. All I think about is my lil bit. She’s alone down there in the world while I’m sitting on top of it and dreaming of her. I can’t stay here. I can still hear her words ringing in my ears—if I didn’t do my job as the new Santa, she never wanted to see me again. It’s like a candy cane between my ribs. I feel it with every breath.
Comet takes an apple from my hand. I run my hand down his side, giving him one more pat before turning to the ever-yapping Cinnamon.
“I need to go back.” The thought of leaving the North Pole when Christmas is almost here goes against every gut feeling I have. After all, I had to accept it. IamSanta. The spirit of Christmas flows through me, and I honestly can’t wait to make all those children happy. Despite the joy I feel when I think about all that, I still can’t get over Jocelyn, and I know I never will.
“Go back?” Cinnamon stops and blinks rapidly. “Back to the workshop? Yes. I agree. The elves are finally catching up with toy orders, but the chute that drops into your bag on the sleigh is busted. We need help.”
“Busted?” I turn to him and stride from the stables.
“I’ve been trying to tell you that all night. Yes, it’s busted. We need your help.”
“No, you don’t.” My comfortable black boots leave prints in the snow as I walk toward the three-story residence with the workshop attached.
“Santa, please.” Cinnamon hurries along beside me. “We need it repaired. I don’t have any workshop elves I can spare. Not if we want to meet all the Christmas wishes.”
I stop in front of the whimsical log structure with the Christmas lights and blanket of snow on the roof. “There’s only one person who can fix that chute.”
“You.” Cinnamon nods.
“No.” I stomp up my front steps.
“Yes.” He follows like an annoying gnat.
“What I’ve learned since I’ve been here is that you’re overwhelmed. This outfit wasn’t intended to meet this many needs every year. There are more children than you can keep up with.”
“I beg your pardon,” he says indignantly and follows me into the house. “We are working as hard as we can and—”
