Mary shrugged. “If you don’t, come New Years, just give it back. I’m sure we could find someone else who’d like a trip to Santa’s workshop.”
Pansy came running over to us, hands outstretched, interrupting the moment. The music around us had changed, a steady bass pulsed through the air, matching the beat of my heart.
“Come dance with me,” she exclaimed excitedly, the joy of her special day infectious.
I grabbed hold of her hand and danced the night away with my best friend. Whatever the future held, tonight was for celebrating and I wasn’t going to waste another minute of it sitting down.
Chapter 2.
NICHOLAS
Less than three weeks before Christmas and the whole town was a hurricane of activity—especially Santa’s workshop. Lists were being read, toys were being made, and electronics were being ordered. There were elves working feverishly and plates of sugary treats to keep up energy strewn everywhere.
I glanced around the room with pride. This was my family business, my father’s bloodline and our legacy. There were moments when I wished for a different existence, of course, but the elves relied on me. And they were my family now.
The fairytales that human parents told their children about Santa and his Christmas gifts were mostly right. They’d managed to guess what I did, and how I did it fairly well. My system of knowing what children wanted though, and where they lived, was a magic uniquely my own; one that no-one possessed on the planet but me.
But I didn’t have reindeer and I didn’t do the sleigh thing. My elves dashed all over the globe on Christmas Eve using their own magic, delivering presents to all the children in the world. A single present their parents barely noticed amongst all the others.
The one Santa rule that everyone got wrong, was that every child received something. I didn’t keep track of who was ‘naughty’or‘nice’. Whoever wrote that particular song was obviously having trouble with their own offspring, I think. Children were inherently good, and being naughty was just like having a little extra spice in your pudding. It was never a bad thing when the heart was all pudding and sugar to begin with.
Tulli, my head supervisor, came over to me carrying a clip board. “Santa, we’re done with all of the North American children’s orders.”
“Wonderful,” I said, smiling at him, though the pleasure of this time of year was sometimes a struggle to tap into after so long in the game. “Keep up the good work. I’m heading to my room for a quick shower and a power nap. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Tulli saluted. “No rush, Santa. We have it all under control.”
I sighed with gratitude. “I know, Tulli. And I appreciate you more than I can say.” I hadn’t slept in more than a day, but the increase in productivity was well worth the fatigue. We were on target, finally, so I could afford the break now. My bedroom was down the hallway a little way; luckily it was far enough that I’d be able to sleep without hearing the hubbub and action pouring out of the toy room.
A groan left my weary body as I pushed open the door and practically staggered into the ensuite bathroom. The stonework on the walls and the floor was dark grey and the shower was huge. Every Santa renovated their private rooms once they took on the role and I’d managed to change a bit of my bedroom and the ensuite. Not a lot else, though truth be told, I didn’t really want to change too much.
My parents had done a great job with the place before they’d passed on ten years ago. They’d lived together, loved together, and died together. As it was for all Santa’s and their Mrs. Clauses.
“Yeah... if they’re lucky enough to have one,” I grumbled, stripping off my clothes and stepping into the shower. If I glanced in the mirror, I’d see a man who looked thirty, but I was closer to fifty human years old. I wouldn’t start ageing properly until I found the woman I was meant to marry, and we had a child together. Then we’d both grow old as our son grew up. It was the natural way of things, being a Santa. Unlike my father, I hadn’t met the woman destined to live and die by my side as soon as I reached maturity.I’ll stay young forever at this rate.
The shower was deliciously hot and washed the sweat and anxiety of the day away. Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on relaxing enough to be able to sleep, but it wasn’t easy. This time of the year meant we were all pulling thirty-six-hour shifts, and everyone was exhausted but filled with adrenalin. Especially me.
