Page 38 of A Merry Misfit Christmas

I have to say, he looks like the sexiest Santa I’ve ever seen. Instead of a fake white beard, I found temporary hair dye that changed his dark brown to mostly white. The natural look is much more realistic, and I think the kids will be surprised.

“You can,” I giggle. “Besides, it’s for the kids.”

“Hmmpf.”

“Go ahead, give me your best ho-ho-ho,” I encourage.

All I get is a rotten version of ho, which has me bending over at the gut, laughing because it’s really not the right theme at all.

“Babe,” I try to chastise, “Come on. Try harder.”

“Oh, I’ve got harder,” he growls, “but that’s just for you.”

I bite my lip and shake my head. He’s incorrigible. “Do it for me?”

A heavy, exaggerated sigh escapes his pink lips. And yes, I dusted rose-colored powder on his nose and cheeks and mouth because Santa is supposed to be merry.

Kodiak? Not so much.

“Ho,” he finally says, “ho,” and another heavy sigh, “ho.”

“You’re about as jolly as a fucking turd in a toilet,” Spike observes as I notice him leaning against the doorjamb.

“You can do better than that,” Chomp jeers, joining us. “C’mon, brother, these are kids, remember?”

I tap my finger on my cheek trying to think of a way to turn my grumpy Santa into a festive one. “I’ve got it!” I exclaim.

“What?” Kodiak grumbles. He’s not quite glaring at me, but it’s close.

“What if you had an elf to help you and what if that elf was me?” I ask, leaning up to brush my lips against him.

“Maybe.”

“Hold that thought,” I tell him and run up to our suite to change. I suspected this might be difficult for him to do and I don’t want him to be totally uncomfortable, so I bought my own costume complete with a pair of tights and a sassy little skirt with white fuzz on the bottom to match him. Kind of like Mrs. Claus, I guess.

I quickly change and admire how I look in the mirror. “Yeah, that ought to make my bear a little less growly.” Giving myself a wink in the mirror to bolster my confidence, I head back to where everyone’s standing around staring at Kodiak, who’s now growling at his brothers.

Money exchanges hands and I see them bet on his success and failure. Plenty of teasing follows. My poor grumpy Santa bear.

“Damn, Santa didn’t have elves who looked like you when I was a kid going to the mall,” Sly states, whistling.

“Hubba hubba,” Chomp adds.

I don’t say anything, I just look at my bear whose eyes are so heated, I feel like I’m facing an inferno. “Kodiak?” I finally whisper.

I see him take in several deep breaths while his gaze never leaves mine. His lips curl upward in a semblance of a smile then he says, “Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!” in a booming voice that sounds almost… happy!

“Oh my God, I think you might just pull this off,” Spike announces, smirking at Kodiak.

“Let’s get this done and over with, please,” Kodiak retorts.

I blow him a kiss. “I’ll reward you later.”

“They’re having such a great time!” Cheryl exclaims as we watch the kids opening their gifts. “I’m stunned by the support we got for this project, Callie.”

I smile, my eyes glassy seeing the joy on the faces surrounding us. The cosmetology school that Cheryl reached out to not only helped us get the things we needed for the teenage girls’ little kits, but they also offered them free salon services for makeovers. They’ll have students working on them, but the instructors are all licensed so it should go well. But the best thing of all, to me, is how many of the foster parents look relieved. I know there’ll still be gifts for the children to open on Christmas Day, but this party helps the kids feel more normal. Some of the burden had been lifted though and I know these families will all have a merry Christmas now.

“Spike had an idea for next year, Cheryl,” I say.

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