Page 12 of The Selkie Santa

“Fiddle-dee-dee.” Eleanor fixed her piercing blue gaze on Harper. “We need to put a twinkle in the eyes of our male residents. Their minds are willing, but sadly their bodies are not, poor old buggers. But at least they can enjoy the view.”

“Gran!”

“What? Oh don’t be such a prude, darling. Wait until you reach our age, you’ll still want a healthy dose of?—”

“La-la-la, too much information Gran.”

“Or at least want to fantasize about it.” Eleanor smirked.

Harper thinned her lips. She was done with fantasies, and she wasn’t yet thirty.

“Really Gran, truly, I’m happier baking Christmas cake and mince pies. Which is what you employed me to do, remember?”

“You were unanimously voted into the part of elf by our committee. Which means it’s now part of your job description,my dear.” Her gran had that set to her mouth that brooked no argument. “We have three Santas auditioning, and I want you to come and give your opinion in the meeting room, right away.”

“I can’t close the café,” Harper protested.

“Biff will hold the fort, won’t you dear.” Gran said as Biff, a goblin who preferred to wash dishes than serve folk, appeared wiping their large hands on their apron.

“Do what?”

“You’ll serve customers, while I borrow Harper.”

Biff gave a grunt, which Harper guessed was a yes. Biff was not the most biddable of folks, but no one argued with Gran. Unofficially, Eleanor ran the Monsters of Mercy retirement village, everyone knew that.

“Okay, but you’ll have to make up your minds quickly, I can’t be gone long,” Harper said.

Her grandmother beamed. “Between us we’ll choose the perfect Santa in no time. The auditions start in fifteen minutes, don’t be late.” And with that, Eleanor departed, barely leaning on her stick, even at the grand age of eighty-eight.

“Sorry.” Harper grimaced at Biff. “You know what she’s like once she’s set her mind on something.

“Dog with a bloody bone.” Biff sniffed and disappeared into the kitchen.

Harper glanced around the little café. It looked lovely with the decorations she’d put up. The tree in the corner of the room was strung with tinsel and baubles and candy canes. But Harper couldn’t feel even vaguely festive. Her heart was like a ball of lead in her chest. Had been for weeks, to be honest.

“Do you want the Yule Log cut up?” Biff called out.

“Oh, yes.” Harper smiled with false brightness. “Of course, we’re only two weeks away from Christmas. Let’s get it out there, eh?”

As she arranged the Yule Log next to the Christmas cake on the counter, she tried not to dwell on the Noah thing. Maybe if she hadn’t bumped into Dina again a month after Noah left, she wouldn’t be quite so upset.

Dina had been coming out of a doctor’s office.

Not just any doctor either; it had been an obstetrician’s suite in old Motham.

It just so happened Harper had gone to see Waldo, the mage, to get something herbal to help her sleep.

Seeing Dina, her whole body jolted.

And this time, Dina saw her too.

“Oh.” Her gorgeous green eyes widened. “Hi, Harper.”

Dina was wearing leggings and a tight tee and there was a bump—a perfect round little baby bump instead of her once-flat stomach.

“H-hi.” Harper’s mouth must have dropped open because Dina smirked and touched her belly. “It’s still a secret.”

If Harper hadn’t been in so much shock, she might have pointed out that it was hardly a secret—Dina was parading her preggers belly for all to see. But all she could muster was a weak, “Right. H—how far along?”

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