Chapter 4 #2
For the next hour, she wrangled children. Soothed some who were justifiably scared of the big man in the red suit and bushy white beard and listened to all the wonderful things they wanted for Christmas, trying not to laugh at some of the innocent requests.
“Please, Santa, Mama says I’m going to have a baby brother or sister for Christmas, but I really want a puppy instead.”
"Ho ho ho! Babies are very special Christmas miracles too! What if I bring you some books about puppies AND about being a big brother/sister? Then when your family is ready for a real puppy, you'll know all about taking care of both!"
"Can I please have a talking teddy bear that knows all the answers for when grown-ups ask me hard questions?"
"Santa's workshop is magical, but even my elves can't make bears that know everything! Would you like instead a special teddy who reminds you it's brave to ask for help when questions seem too hard?"
"Santa, I want a ladder tall enough to reach the cookie jar on the top shelf."
"Santa believes in safety first! Instead of a ladder, would you like a magical cookie jar that plays a tune at designated cookie times? Your parents can set when the music plays!"
"Santa, can you make my vegetables taste like chocolate? But just for me, not for nobody else."
"Santa loves your creativity! Instead of chocolate vegetables, would you like a magical storybook where the characters get special powers from eating their greens? It might make your vegetables seem more exciting!"
"I need quick-quick shoes that make me run faster than my big brother when he's chasing me."
"Santa understands about big brothers! Instead of speedy shoes, would you like a pair of sneakers that light up with happy colors when you run? They might distract your brother long enough for you to escape!"
"Can you give me a robot that does my chores and homework but looks exactly like me?"
"What an imaginative request! Santa's workshop specializes in toys that bring joy, not ones that take away your chance to learn. Perhaps a fun science kit to build a small robot companion who can keep you company during homework time?"
"Please bring me a dinosaur—but one that's house-trained and doesn't eat the cat."
"What a wonderful imagination you have! Santa's workshop can't quite manage real dinosaurs, but I could bring you a special dinosaur plushie that projects stars on your ceiling at night and makes gentle dino sounds when you hug it."
Damn, but kids were so much fun in the innocent way their minds worked.
Evie’s mood was lifted by some of their hilarious and inventive requests, and equally entranced by the patient and tactful way Archer responded.
He was so good at this. He didn’t promise what couldn’t be delivered but nevertheless managed to make sure none of the children went away disappointed.
It was all going great, and Evie felt a swell of love when she saw her parents join the grotto queue with Ollie. He jumped up and down with excitement and waved at her, telling everybody within earshot, “My mama is Santa’s helper! It’s a very ‘portant job!”
Watching Ollie's excitement, his infectious grin and bouncing energy made all the earlier drama with Adrian fade away. She waved back, careful not to break character for the other children waiting in line. At least he’d get this before his father whisked him away.
As Ollie inched closer, Evie noticed Adrian approaching from the corner of her eye. Her stomach clenched. Damn, she hoped he didn’t make a scene in front of Ollie.
She was busy providing a lollipop for the latest child to climb off Santa’s knee when she became aware of a commotion in the waiting crowd. She lifted her head but couldn’t quite work out what was happening until her mother hurried over, wringing her hands.
“Evie… he won’t listen.”
Before she could process everything, Adrian’s irritated voice lifted above the hushed bystanders. "Come on, buddy. We're leaving early for our trip," her ex stated as he tried to pull Ollie out of the line.
"But Daddy, I wanna see Santa!" Ollie's lower lip trembled, and he pulled against his father’s grip.
With the next waiting child already in her care, Evie's chest tightened as she watched the scene unfold, helpless in her role as Santa's helper. She couldn't abandon her post, but every instinct screamed at her to intervene.
"Now, Oliver,” Adrian's tone brooked no argument. "We have a plane to catch."
“Go, Evie,” Asher instructed, swiftly taking the child from her. “I’ll manage.”
“I’m so sorry.” Sally was distraught. “Adrian wouldn’t listen to reason. We told him we’d only be half an hour, and he could surely wait that long. He just said he’s Ollie’s father, and we can’t stop him.”
Bastard!
“Adrian…” Evie muttered in a hushed voice. “What’s going on?”
“We’re leaving. Brandi has a headache, so we’re taking Oliver early.”
“That wasn’t the plan.”
“Plans change, Eve. We’re going.”
“For goodness’ sake, at least wait until Ollie’s had his turn with Santa. Can’t you see how much you’re upsetting him?”
“Fucking hell, Evie. Stop being such a pushover. He needs to grow up.”
“He’s five years old, and quit swearing in front of him,” Evie growled, doing her best to keep her voice down, for Ollie’s sake as much as not drawing attention.
Although the latter was fairly irrelevant since she was already acutely aware of the curious glances from nearby parents and children.
Her cheeks burned with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
“And I’m his father,” Adrian announced, swinging Ollie into his arms. “We have joint custody, so it’s my right to see my son when I please.”
With that, her ex-husband turned on his heel and stormed away as tears streamed down Ollie's cheeks and Evie's parents looked on, bewildered.
Evie trotted after him, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way to stop this train wreck. She didn’t want to upset Ollie more by seeing them argue, and she especially didn’t want to do this in public, with so many of the locals looking on with rapt interest.
“Adrian, stop! Be reasonable. You don’t have his luggage or anything. Let Ollie see Santa while my parents go and fetch it.”
“We don’t need luggage, and I already have his passport. We’ll be at the beach, all he’ll need are trunks and shorts, which I can buy when we get there.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Adrian. That’s just a waste of money.” She grabbed his arm and tried to halt his progress, but he shrugged her off.
“Mama!” Ollie wailed, reaching for her over his father’s shoulder. Helplessly, Evie grasped his hand, aware that nothing she was doing was helping to soothe her son.
“It’s okay, baby,” she told him. “You’re going to have a wonderful time at the beach, remember. And you’ll get to fly on a plane.”
Her heart broke, even as she tried to make things better for her son.
“Please Adrian…”
“I know my rights, Eve, and I’m well within them.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to behave like an ass though,” she hissed at him, tugging to try and stop him again.
This time he swung around, ripping Ollie’s hand away from hers, and Evie stumbled and would have landed on her butt in an ignominious heap if it weren’t for the large hand that steadied her and the arm that wrapped around her waist while her back was hauled against a sturdy chest to stop her from hitting the ground.
Shepherd. The heat of his big body warmed her through the thin fabric of her costume, and she hated that she was aware of him that way. He’d saved her from falling, and while she was grateful, Adrian took advantage of her near tumble and hurried away through the crowd with Ollie.
Evie wanted to rage at Shepherd for slowing her down, even though she knew that was neither true nor fair, but she was devastated.
All she could manage was a feeble wave to her son as he disappeared.
She hadn’t even been able to say a proper goodbye.