Page 65 of Ho Ho Oh No

Big Al stops at the door, turning around to scan the rest of our faces. Pretty much everyone is statue like, shock still rendering us mute. The only sound is the music playing.

Right as I think that, I hear a moan from the other side of the room. All heads whip toward Mia, who’s shamelessly gobbling down a huge slice of chocolate cake.

She raises her shoulders to her ears. “Sorry, I eat cake when I’m nervous. It’s my emotional support food.” Her fork jabs into another hunk. “And this one is really good. I’m not leaving the party without eating it.”

Laughter trills around the room.

Santa Boss Dad shakes his head, blinking off his amusement. “I need backup.” His gaze ping pongs from face to face, locking on Shep and Kri. “You two. Come on.”

They hesitate a split second, giving Val time to interject. “If they’re going, so am I.”

Shep groans, then tips his head toward the door, silently granting her permission.

Junior trails behind her.

The party guests are dwindling by the moment.

At this rate, I’ll be alone.

Yeah. Not a fan of that.

“Hold your horses. I’m coming too,” I yell after Shep and Kri.

Klein races over to cut me off before I can follow.“Lettie, hold up.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“I’m not sure Tomer would like the ratio of guards if you joined them. You should stay here.”

I worry my lip. “But . . . but . . .”

For once, I heed someone’s good advice where my safety is concerned.

“Fine.”

“Get the bag,” a meek voice cries out.

My searching gaze finds Klein’s mother standing beside the long conference table, trying to lift Santa Dad’s big sack.

Of presents.

Don’t be gross. He’s my father.

“Ma, we don’t need the bag.”

Louder this time, she yells, “The bag.” Her facial expression crumples with a mix of desperation and sheer panic. “The bag. He needs it.”

Klein and Mia approach her calmly, one on each side.

On a loop, Mrs. Klein looks at the bag, then at the door where everyone has exited in haste.

Door. Sack. Door. Sack.

The sweet woman taps her forehead with one finger, closes her eyes, and shakes her head. A mournful cry leaves her, and I start to tear up.

“What is it, Ma?” Klein asks, lowering his face to her level and speaking in a soothing tone. “I’m right here. It’s okay. What do you need?”

She doesn’t answer other than to tearfully point at the bag and the door.

---