Chapter Twenty-seven
Y ou should think of this as an upgrade, Sam,” Victoria Winters said proudly as she placed the Santa hat on his head. “Last time we asked you to cover the float at the Parade of Lights, you were an elf.”
Sam scowled at her from under the hat. He’d come to the parade looking for Wren and had only stopped by the Winters’ float to say hi. That was when Victoria had caught Sam, begging him to be Santa with Holly.
“Technically, Santa is an elf, too,” Sam grumbled.
Victoria patted his cheek. “But he’s the head elf, and he gets to drink whiskey in a warm sleigh while riding around on a parade float, waving at kiddos. So stop your bitching and get in the sleigh.”
The last sentence was a firm command as if he were a naughty child throwing a tantrum. His mouth dropped, and he turned to look at his brother, who was laughing uproariously.
“Did you hear what she just said to me?”
“Yeah, I did,” Clark said, pointing to the sleigh. “So you better do what she says before she comes back with a wooden spoon.”
Sam climbed up into the sleigh, adjusting the beard and mustache over his face as he took a seat. “I’m doing this because I want to help, not because I’m scared of her.”
Clark gave him a thumbs-up. “Whatever you say, bro.”
Holly stepped up onto the end of the float, waving at them. She was dressed in a Mrs. Claus costume, her chest and butt three times their normal sizes under the red dress. Her white wig covered up her natural red hair.
When she slid in next to him, Sam leveled her with a dark scowl and asked, “Is there a reason why your boyfriend isn’t in here with you, dressed up in this ridiculous costume?”
“His shoulders are too broad for the suit,” she said, pushing her fake spectacles up the bridge of her nose. “Besides, this is too much holiday cheer for him. He likes to sit on the sidelines and drink spiked hot chocolate with my brother.”
“I wanted to sit on the sidelines and drink hot chocolate with your brother,” Sam protested.
“Now you get to spend two hours with me, waving and smiling at the crowds like a celebrity, because you kind of are, Santa.” When he didn’t return her smile, she poked him in the arm. “Oh, stop being a grinch. You know I’m your favorite Winters.”
“That may be true, but that does not mean I want to be sitting in a sleigh, wearing this itchy suit, only to change into another, equally uncomfortable suit so I can perform like a trained animal for your bachelor auction.”
“Oh my gosh, will you stop your whining? I have been dealing with a hormonal sister for weeks, a boyfriend who is Scrooge incarnate during the holidays, and the only thing that keeps him remotely cheery is when I dress up in this little negligée that lights up like a Christmas tree—”
“Why the fuck are you telling me this?” he asked, covering his ears with his hands, but she grabbed them, dragging them down his body.
“Because I want you to understand that I am not the one to put up with your attitude!”
“Well, you should be nicer to your sister,” he said, fixing his black gloves. “She is making a whole human being and doesn’t need your first-world problems.”
“I am very nice to my sister, but that does not give her the right to snap and boss me around every time we’re together.”
San glanced up at the starry sky, looking for any sign that a lightning bolt was going to strike him down. He loved Holly, but tonight her dramatics were a bit over the top.
“Why aren’t you telling her that instead of me?” Sam asked.
“Because she is so sensitive that anything you say to her makes her cry. If you tell her there was a tornado in Michigan, cry. The Broncos are going to the Superbowl, cry like a fountain. Look, there is a soup commercial. Inconsolable.” Holly threw her gloved hands up, wiping them in the air. “I wash my hands of it, and I am telling you right now, if I act like that when I’m pregnant, you better slap me back to reality.”
“Any chance I could smack you now?” Sam asked, feeling infinitely better when she smirked.
“There is the Sam Griffin I know and love.”
Sam’s gaze swept over Holly, his friend and confidant. They were ten years apart in age, and while a lot of people in town had thought that they were going to get together once upon a time, Sam had only ever thought of her as a friend. Since she’d started dating Declan last year, the two of them hadn’t been spending quite as much time together, but it didn’t feel right to keep something so big as falling in love from Holly.
Still, he couldn’t kick off a conversation with her and make it all about him. So he asked, “Speaking of our long-standing friendship, what’s new? Been a while.”
“I know, it’s weird. There was once a time when you were constantly hanging out at my house, eating my food, annoying my boyfriend. Is Declan’s annoyance why you stopped coming by?”
“Only because I grew to like and respect your boyfriend, and I knew he was sick of me always being at your house and eating your food. So, I took two steps back and gave you both some space.”
“I appreciate that, but you do know that we are friends and we will always be friends, right?”
“Yes, we will always be friends. What is your point?”
“My point is, if you have anything you want to tell me, I’m here to listen,” she said, wiggling her Mrs. Claus spectacles up and down on the bridge of her nose.
Sam stared at her for several beats before her knowing gaze registered, and he cursed under his breath.
“Shit, one of them told you?”
“Told me what?” she asked innocently.
“Who told you about Wren?”
“Oh ‘Wren,’ not Officer Little, huh?” Her full lips curved into a smirk. “Actually, everyone told me. Ricki. Merry.” Holly tsked. “You should know you can’t keep a secret in this town.”
“You would think if two people were still trying to figure out how to define their relationship, the people in their lives wouldn’t draw attention to it until they decided how to label it.”
“How can we do that when we’re so excited for you?” Holly said, nudging him with her shoulder.
“You are?” he asked.
“Of course we are. I mean, she’s a little straightlaced for who I figured you’d end up with, but she’s pretty and she’s funny and she seems nice.” Holly made a face. “Her obsession with eradicating jaywalking is a bit unsettling.”
Sam groaned. “Not you, too! It’s called a crosswalk!”
“No matter, all that is important is that my friend Sam has found love.”
“Except there is one small issue,” Sam said, grimacing.
“What’s that?” Holly asked. The floats started to move, but as they were closer to the back, they didn’t budge.
“She’s not interested in having a relationship with me,” Sam admitted.
“Really?” Holly asked, her forehead knitting in obvious confusion. “Then why did I see your car at her house on my way home yesterday?”
“We had dinner.”
“Oh, so you’re gonna tell me that you did not stay the night?” Holly asked, her tone taunting as if she already knew the answer.
“I don’t feel that I need to tell you.”
“Busted,” she said.
Sam shook his head. “Look, I’ve gotten all the advice I can take on my love life, so please, can we just leave this alone for now? Concentrate on smiling and waving to the kids and when we’re finished, go about our busy lives?”
“No, because you know when Declan and I were doing our thing, you were right smack in the middle of it. Yet you have kept me in the dark about this whole shindig, so I’m going to spend the next hour pumping out all the information you have held back from me.”
“If you’ve talked to everyone, then you know what’s going on,” he said.
“I want to hear from you that Officer Wren Little is the one for you. Only then can I be at peace.”
Sam snorted. “Fine, but not because of the cockamamie crap that just exploded from your mouth. Wren was the one for me nineteen years ago, and that hasn’t changed.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Holly’s voice squeaked, hurting Sam’s ears.
“Okay, that’s enough of that.”
“No, seriously, I never thought I’d see the day when you would fall in love. I thought that you were going to end up being a lifelong bachelor even into your senior citizen years, hanging around with all the girls, being like, ‘Hey, you know I used to drive a motorcycle and have a six-pack?’”
Sam glared at her. “Have you always been such a brat, or am I just now noticing?”
“I just rarely ever use my brat on you,” she said.
“Oh, I see.”
Their float finally took off at a snail’s pace, and as they passed by the crowds, Sam waved to the kids calling out to Santa. He recognized a familiar face in the crowd and beamed as he watched Wren in full uniform say hi to people.
“Wren,” he called out. She looked around, finally angling her chin up to where she could see him, and he blew her a kiss.
Wren made a face indicating her disgust and confusion at his creepy behavior.
Sam realized that he had never told her he was going to be Santa, because he’d gotten thrown into the position ten minutes before the parade started. He couldn’t take off his beard and show her who he was, so instead Sam made his hands into the best bird he could and started flapping his hands like wings.
Wren turned around and walked through the crowd.
Holly laughed uproariously. “That was the funniest thing I’ve seen in a while. She had no idea who you were. She just thought you were some random creeper making gestures at her. You’re lucky she didn’t climb up here and arrest you.”
“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” Sam grumbled.
“Only because I’ve never seen you so besotted.”
“How ’bout less talkie, more wavie?” Sam said.
“Whatever you say, Santa.”