Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Yule
After her tears subsided, and my chest dried from being soaked with them, I rolled out from under her, and swung my legs over the side of the bed, ready to get dressed.
An idea had formed while I was giving aftercare, and I couldn’t let it go.
I needed to implement it, but more than that, I needed to go into the office and make sure my errant little was, indeed, off the naughty list.
She propped herself up on one elbow, and looked over at me, her lips pouty, her face full of sorrow. “Where are you going?” she asked as I reached for my boots.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I replied. “We are going to check out the list and make sure our efforts were successful.”
She pouted some more. “Do we really need to do that right now? Couldn’t it wait?”
I frowned. “Sadly, it can’t. There’s really no time to spare. If it didn’t work, we need to know right away, so we can regroup and adjust the plan. Maybe even seek counsel from my parents if we need to.”
“Ugh. I do not want to have to do that.” But even as she spoke, she got up and started to dress, wincing as she pulled thick tights over her red, swollen bottom.
“Me either, but we might not have a choice. Let’s just go in, together, and take a peek.” I didn’t tell her there was another reason for wanting to take her to the list room with me.
“Fine.” She pulled a red velvet dress over her head from the dozen or so we kept in our closet, selected a candy-cane-striped apron, and tied it around her waist, and slipped on a pair of boots that were smaller and more feminine than mine.
I finished dressing too, then held out my hand. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her nerves were clear in the tightness of her shoulders and the worry lines etched in her forced smile.
“Whatever the outcome is, we’ll handle it together,” I promised.
But we both knew the outcome could be very bad and we could be at the mouth of a storm we had no idea how to weather.
We made our way outside, and took a snowmobile in, rather than a reindeer, my one concession that she’d been through enough today already.
As soon as we pulled up to the offices, we were swarmed by a gaggle of frenzied-looking elves, and Bernadette, her calm unflappable self looking mildly flustered.
“Santa!” she scolded, shaking her finger, “Christmas is only three days away. You really do not have time for middle-of-the-day trysts.”
I cut her a scathing look and she shrank back as I helped Crystal off the snowmobile and pushed my way past the elves and all their frantic questions. Once inside, I beelined for the list room. Dash scowled when I pushed the door open, with Crystal behind me.
“Santa! Where have you been?”
“It’s only been a couple hours, Dash, and I had some personal business to deal with, relax.”
“There have been over thirty list discrepancies in that time, Santa. Well, thirty-one, technically, but I can’t find the last one. It’s very odd. It’s never happened before.”
“Thirty-one discrepancies is insane,” Crystal muttered beside me.
“Tell me about it. It’s like this all day every day and it’s usually a good kid making an honest mistake, or some entitled adult believing a child is naughty for simply having a bad day, or reacting to a situation the way pretty much anyone would, but having the audacity to do so while being a kid.
It’s rather ridiculous, if I’m being honest.”
“Ugh. No wonder you’re always so stressed.”
“Tell me about it. Come look at this with me.” I pulled her toward the list glowing on the wall, while Dash screeched behind us.
“Santa! What are you doing? Stop! She can’t be in here! You know the list is for your eyes only. Well, and mine, but you know! This is top-secret North Pole data! First you sent Trixie in here the other day, and now Mrs. Claus. This is highly unorthodox, and highly inappropriate!”
He ran in front of the screen as if to block Crystal’s view.
“Stand down, Dash,” I growled.
Crystal was looking between the two of us, wide-eyed, like she didn’t quite know who to listen to. “It’s okay, Santa,” she whispered. “You can just… tell me.” Even as she said it, she looked like she was going to throw up at the prospect.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Santa!” Dash protested.
“Tell me about the discrepancy you can’t find,” I interjected, interrupting his protests.
He shut down and flipped into work mode immediately, frowning at the list. It’s… It’s gone. There were thirty-one discrepancies earlier, but I couldn’t find the last one, and now it says there’s only thirty again!” He shuffled through the pages, muttering to himself as he frowned.
Crystal’s eyes met mine over the top of his head, her expression hopeful, and I smiled. I was pretty sure that was confirmation her punishment with my belt had done the trick, but I would double check.”
“Okay, let’s get this list sorted out.” I went through each discrepancy one by one, scanning the list for my wife’s name as I did so, and just as I’d suspected, each discrepancy was just a matter of kids making mistakes or having bad days and being told they were bad by the adults around them, many of whom, in my opinion, needed a stocking full of coal.
Some people these days took themselves way too seriously.
When the list was set back to zero, I rubbed my hands together, as if dusting them off, to indicate that the task was finished.
Then I turned to my wife, clicked through the pages again, and explained how the list worked while allowing her to see that her name was indeed off the list. I ran through the system, explaining how it worked exactly how it had been set up fifty years prior when it had first been computerized.
I could see the moment the solution clicked in her brain, and I knew what I had to do.
I also knew the elves were going to have a shit-fit over breaking tradition and any kind of change.
But they’d adjusted when it had gone computerized the first time, they’d adjust to this.
As Santa, it was my job to keep everything running smoothly, and update the systems and traditions to make sense in modern times.
As Crystal’s husband, I had a different job entirely: to be a good, present, husband and support my wife.
So far the balance had been impossible. That was about to change.
“I need to see all the elves in the workshop,” I announced as I pulled open the door to exit the list room. “Dash, that means you too. Come on.”
“But Santa! The list should not be unattended!”
“It will be fine. We are changing the way we do things around here, and we are starting with that list.”
I made my way to the workshop, calling over my shoulder for the elves to assemble, with Crystal and Dash rushing behind me to keep up.
When I was in the center of the workshop surrounded by hundreds of elves from departments all across the North Pole, I got their attention by holding my hand up until their chatter died down.
“Excuse me, elves. Thank you for coming to listen on such short notice. I promise I will keep this short so we can all get back to our jobs, but I have something important to say.”
They instantly quieted, riveted as they gave me all their attention.
“Crystal, come up here please.” The crowd parted as my Mrs. Claus made her way through the sea of elves to join me at the front.
“Before becoming Santa, I had to find my wife and get married, those are the rules,” I stated once she was by my side.
“And I’m not complaining, I’m so glad they are because it led to me finding and marrying the love of my life, but then I had to go right into the business of being Santa full time and I’ve had almost no time to be a husband, much less a newlywed husband.
It’s ridiculous, frankly. It’s not good for me or my wife, and by extension, it ends up not being good for any of you, because as they say, ‘Happy Santa, happy elves’. ”
They wore confused expressions, obviously not quite sure where I was going with this, or why I’d interrupted their work day to say it, but they were slowly bobbing their heads in agreement.
“The North Pole is stuck in the past, we all hate change, and we love tradition, but sometimes we have to drag ourselves kicking and screaming into a new age. We’ve done it before, and I’m sure years from now, we’ll have to do it again.
It’s tough at first, but we always adjust, so I’m asking now, three days before Christmas, for you all to recognize a problem and bear with me as I propose a solution. ”
They’d started grumbling the second I mentioned change, and now wore sour expressions, shifting from foot to foot like they just wanted to forget this nonsense and get back to work.
It was Bernie, bless her, who dragged over a chair to stand on and piped up. "Let's all listen to what Santa has to say. He’s the boss. He’s Santa. If he thinks a change is needed, it probably is.”
“Thank you, Bernie.” I smiled at her, then turned my attention back to the rest of the elves, who were calming down, at least a little bit.
“We have a major issue. It’s affecting my home life, my mental health, and even my productivity.
That problem is the naughty list and how it’s computed.
I’m not sure what is going on with the world, but I’m having to run to the list room dozens of times a day because children are behaving like children, daring to have their own opinions, personalities and reactions to the world around them, and the adults in their lives can’t seem to handle it.
Of all the discrepancies the list has caught over the last month, only two children actually deserved to be on the naughty list. It’s ridiculous.
The adults of the world cannot be trusted to give their input on this anymore.
The responsibility is enormous, and they are not up to the task.
We need a new system, sooner rather than later. ”
The elves wore cautious expressions, but they were nodding along with my speech. They knew it was a problem. What they didn’t know was how to fix it. Elves were not technology-friendly beings. They were hundreds of years old, and were much better suited to making toys.
“How are you going to fix it, Santa?” Bernie spoke up, offering me an encouraging smile.
And here came the part they really weren’t going to like, I thought as I drew a deep breath and prepared to continue.
“I’m not going to fix it,” I announced. “Coding and spreadsheets and the programs that would be needed to override such an antiquated system are not my strong suit.” Before the grumbling could start again, I continued, “But they are my wife’s.”
And that’s when the uproar started. The male elves immediately protested, loudly, just as I’d expected. The female elves looked amused, while also looking cautiously dubious.
I held up a hand and they quieted once more.
“That’s the other thing that needs to change.
Here at the North Pole, we’ve long since held up a rather sexist ideal, that is frankly seriously out of touch and offensive.
My wife is smart, strong and capable and it is time we give Mrs. Claus the respect and dignity she deserves.
Mrs. Claus, all the Mrs. Clauses, past, present, and future, are capable of so much more than baking cookies and wrapping presents.
The North Pole is a beacon of hope, a melting pot of cultures, and while we have long-upheld traditions, we also have a responsibility to embrace empowerment, for everyone. ”
I was about to keep going, but my speech was drowned out by thunderous applause that had me blushing and stammering before I continued.
Crystal stood on her tippy-toes, threw her arms around my neck and planted a kiss right on my lips while the elves teased. I waited for the noise to die down before wrapping it up.
“Now, Crystal is going to be in charge of updating the list with Bernie and Dash, while the rest of us get back to toy-making and cocoa-drinking, because Mrs. Claus has saved our sanity.”
“Santa! Santa!” Piper, a young, timid elf who rarely spoke at all, raised her hand, looking for permission to speak.
“Yes, Piper?”
“I don’t think Mrs. Claus just saved our sanity. I daresay she saved Christmas as well.”
Nodding at her, I smiled down at my blushing wife. “You know, I think you’re right. Mrs. Claus has saved the future of Christmas.”
“Three cheers for Mrs. Claus!”
While the elves shouted, “Hip, Hip, hooray!” I pulled my blushing wife into my arms.
“Three cheers for Mrs. Claus,” I whispered.
“This is ridiculous,” she whispered back. “I didn’t save Christmas.”
“Oh I beg to differ, Mrs. Claus. I think you very much did save Christmas. In more ways than one.” I winked and gave her bottom a pat that had her gasping.
“I’m proud of you,” I told her as the elves began to disperse.
“I’m proud of you too, Santa Daddy.”
I didn’t have to ask why. I knew, and I was proud of myself too. “Together we’ll drag this place kicking and screaming into the modern age, and make everyone’s lives easier in the process.”
“I can’t wait,” she whispered.
I couldn’t wait either.
Best Christmas Ever.
THE END
If you enjoyed this story, and like your Daddies a little magical, check out the rest of our Fantastical Daddies series and start with Santa Daddy if you haven’t already!