Page 15 of Peppermint Bark

Behind the camera phone, the dad’s eyes lingered on Grace’s smile. I forced a grin while restraining the urge to wipe the longing off his face. He shouldn’t look at another man’s Mrs. Claus like that.

The line shortened as the pile of toys dwindled. I breathed a sigh of relief as the last kid slid off my lap. As I stretched my nearly-numb legs, preparing to wrap up and get back to work already, a high-pitched voice yelled, “Did we miss it? Please tell me he’s still here!”

An enthusiastic girl tore into the community room at top speed. Barrettes dangled from brown pigtails tied with oversized red bows, matching a frilly dress. When her wild eyes landed on me, her smile beamed like a pre-lit Christmas tree.

“She made it,” Grace whispered in relief. Her face softened as she looked affectionately across the room at the little girl, like she’d anticipated her arrival. “That’s Ruby, she’s four. Well, she’d tell you she’s four-and-three-quarters.”

A nurse intercepted Ruby, using her stethoscope for a quick pulse check and whispering something in her ear, while a woman old enough to be Ruby’s grandma — hell, old enough to be my grandma — slowly made her way over to Grace’s spot by the tree.

“Sorry we’re late,” the grandma whispered, wheezing slightly. She had lines etched on her face like she hadn’t slept in a week. “Ruby was so nervous we were going to miss this, she talked faster than usual the whole way over.”

After Grace huffed an understanding laugh, she asked under her breath, “I haven’t heard from Mariana. Any word on her dad?”

The grandma shook her head, both locking their eyes on the little girl.

Ruby nodded enthusiastically at the nurse’s instructions, then met my eyes, bouncing on her toes in excitement and doing a tiny twirl. When Grace waved her forward, she let out an excited squeal as she scurried onto my lap.

“Merry Christmas, Ruby,” I rumbled. Her eyes widened in surprise that I already knew her name.

“Hello, Santa,” she said, voice awestruck. I tilted my head to check in with Grace, and both she and Ruby’s grandma wore delighted grins. Ruby wiggled on my lap with a hint of impatience, pulling me back into our conversation like she didn’t want me to split my focus.

“What would you like for Christmas?”

“A pony,” she said. Her charming smile was tinged with mischief, and I felt like I’d fallen back in time and was seeing a preschool version of my sister. Since she’s seven years younger than me, I have clear memories of Mallory dancing for my dad’s business colleagues in tiny pink ballet tutus, her blue eyes twinkling. At the time, I’d been annoyed at her attention-hogging ways — especially when they’d been talking to me about school and she interrupted. But now as an adult, I found the preschool charm endearing.

“My mom loved horses, and last summer, she took me to the track and we saw them in real life. I brushed a black one named was Midnight Ron-dez-voo. His mane was so soft, and they let me feed him a carrot.” Every phrase rose like a question, her voice got wilder as she ramped up. “Have you been to the racetrack to see the horses, Santa?”

What, I had to improvise, too?

Grace bit her lip to conceal her merriment. No help.

“Once or twice, but it’s hard for Mrs. Claus and me to visit Saratoga in the summer because the reindeer get too hot.”

Ruby nodded as if my nonsensical answer made perfect sense. This little girl was fucking adorable.

Grace handed me a wrapped box. Ruby gleefully tore it open, her entire body quivering with excitement.

“Santa, you found Twilight Sparkle!” she squealed in delight, threw her arms around my neck, and lifted a pink unicorn. Ruby’s grandma exchanged an appreciative look at Grace, and I turned to check in but …

Ruby’s little hand on my cheek pulled my attention back to her. Yep, definitely mini-Mallory vibes. She hesitated, unsure what to say but refusing to lose the spotlight. “Santa, You have pretty eyes.”

“You’re such a flirt,” the grandma laughed. “But you’re right, Mrs. Claus is a lucky woman.”

Grace’s face flushed as red as holly berries.

Oh Christ, this suit was really affecting me.

“I’m the lucky one. She moved to the North Pole for me.”

“But he cleans up the reindeer poop,” Grace said, and Ruby giggled wildly. I’d forgotten how hysterical it was when adults say ‘poop,’ but Grace knew.

Ruby reached for Grace’s hand, requesting her picture include Mrs. Claus, too. The chair almost didn't fit me, let alone the three of us, so I stood as Ruby held up her pony for a picture.

“Closer to the tree, Santa,” she directed bossily. The three of us shifted over until Ruby looked at a nurse. She struck a pose and announced, “I’m ready! Cheeeeeeeeese!”

After her grandma snapped a picture, Ruby thanked me and giggled, pointing above us. “Nurse Irene says you have to kiss because of that weird plant!”

Mistletoe.

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