Now she bit her lip, and I could tell she was thinking.
“There’s not much we can do,” I said. I had turned it around in my head over and over again, always coming to the same conclusion. Garland may be a magical place to live, but right now, the Secret Santa tradition didn’t feel so great.
Mom exhaled, her eyes focusing on the freshly falling snow outside the living room window. “So he can’t tell you who he is, even now.” She kept thinking. “What if one of you wrote a letter to the Secret Santa Committee of Garland, asking for special permission?”
I sat up, brows furrowed. “The what?”
“The Secret Santa Committee of Garland. They’re the ones who elect the person who will be Santa each year.”
I blinked. I’d never really thought about how Santa was selected. “Who’s on the committee?”
“It’s a secret, silly. I’m not sure anyone knows who they are, at least not the whole committee. But I’ve had my suspicions over the years, and I think I might know a way to reach them.”
Hope filled my chest. “Really? But what would I tell them?”
“Ask them to help you make a little extra Christmas magic before the year is over,” Mom said, a soft smile on her lips. “It’s worth at least pleading your case, don’t you think? You never know.”
I thought about her idea. It made a lot of sense, but I was also afraid to hope, only to be disappointed.
Mom grabbed my hand. “Think about it, Belle. Where does the Christmas magic in Garland come from?”
I looked at her. “The Christmas star?” I tried, thinking of the pretty star atop the giant tree–the one we all made our wishes on. Legend said it had been gifted to Garland by Santa himself.
She gave my hand a squeeze. “The people.” Her eyes did that thing where they got big and bright. Convincing. This was why she was the best manager Cider Center had ever had. She could get people on board with her ideas when she really believed in them. “The people of Garland create the magic from how much they care about and love each other. I’ve seen it time and time again. Other places have lost that over the years, but not Garland.”
Something inside me told me she was right. “Okay,” I said slowly. “So what do I do?”
“Write a letter to the committee,” she said, standing up. “And I’ll make sure they get it.”
After she left, I sat there for a minute, trying to process everything she’d just told me. Was there really a chance for some extra Christmas magic?
A chance for my wish to really come true?
I felt like I had no other choice but to hope just a little bit longer.
I tore away the page in my journal with my doodles so that I had a fresh page. Then I picked up my pen and began writing.
27
NICK
New Year’s Eve was right around the corner, and all everyone could talk about was the big party at Haley’s house.
But all I could think about was Belle, how much I missed her, and what Mom had said about there always being a way.
The day after our conversation, I was lying in bed, bored and missing the Christmas season at the mall, when it hit me.
The committee had been able to communicate with me through the post office. What if I could communicate back?
I had no idea what they would say to the idea of me letting Belle in on my big secret, but what I knew for sure was that I had to try.
If I didn’t, it was guaranteed that I’d never get her back.
But if I wrote to them… then maybe I had a chance of fixing this. Of having a real relationship with her, not as Santa, but as Nick St. James.
I dug through my school bag waiting in my closet, found a pen and sheet of paper, and made my way to the kitchen table. My room was hardly big enough for my bed and dresser, let alone a desk, so I always did my homework in the kitchen anyway, ever since I was little.
I sat there, pen in hand, not knowing where to start. I glanced over at my goldfish, watching him swim about his tank for a moment while I thought over my words.