Page 49 of Santa Has a Six-Pack
“Nice to meet you, Hayleigh. I’m Santa. But you probably already knew that.”
She nods.
“Can you come a tiny bit closer, Hayleigh?”
She takes two timid steps forward, barely moving an inch.
“Perfect,” Matt says seriously, like she did exactly as he asked. He squats down to her level and lowers his voice to a stage whisper. “Okay, here’s the thing, Hayleigh. Most people think Rudolph’s only magic trick is flying Santa’s sleigh. But did you know he can also read people’s minds?”
The little girl’s eyes go wide. “Really?” she whispers in wonder. Her mother’s face breaks out into a relieved smile.
“Totally!” Matt continues. “Rudolph is a super intuitive guy. So listen, if you want to tell Santa what’s on your Christmas wish list, all you have to do is stand real close to Rudolph and touch his ear.”
“That’s it?” she asks.
“That’s it! If you do that, he’ll instantly know what you want, and he’ll give me and the elves the scoop later. What do you say? Wanna try?”
She nods enthusiastically, her brown curls bouncing.
“Awesome! Go for it, Hayleigh.”
As the little girl confidently sidles up beside Rudolph and squeezes the statue’s ear, Matt stands on the opposite side of the reindeer, signaling to the Herald’s photographer that we’re ready for the shot.
A few camera snaps later, the delighted mother and daughter head to the kiosk to purchase their photos, smiling and waving to us all as they go.
Dottie rushes up to the village, then, slightly out of breath. “Sorry I’m late, team. I guess my morning got away from me.” Her eyes dart toward the huge candy cane display where Leo stands. He blows her an adorable kiss. Dottie catches it.
“Excuse me, Dorothea,” I say. “Did you have a sleepover with Mr. Leo?”
She smiles sheepishly. “Well, it was our third date.”
“Third date?” I ask. “What’s the significance of a third date?”
Keira gasps. “Penelope Whitaker?—”
“For the last time, Keira, my full name is was and always will be Penny. Penn or even Penn-Penn is fine. But no ‘el-oh-pee’ is necessary.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She gasps again for good measure. “Penny Whitaker, I have been married for eleven years, and even I know the third date rule!”
“What?” I say, unimpressed. “Everybody bangs on the third date?” I pause. “Dottie! You banged on the third date!?”
“Could you keep your voice down, please?” Dottie hisses. “There are families and children around!”
“No, there aren’t,” Keira says. She nods toward the line of grown women waiting for Matt. “We just saw our last kid for the first block. Adult hour is next.”
It occurs to me that, as Matt’s official handler, I should really be handling him better this morning, but honestly, I’m having a hard time looking directly at him since our impromptu Thanksgiving meal.
Why is that?
“Hey, Matt!” I call him. “You can take five. Get some water, a snack, do a few push-ups… whatever it is a guy like you needs to do.”
Whatever a guy like you needs to do?
Geez. Could I be any less friendly right now?
Matt, always brimming with positive energy, gives me a silent salute and heads into Santa’s House, the brightly decorated hut Herald’s assembles every year so our Santas can take a breather.
“Ladies?” I take a few steps toward the line. “Santa is on a five-minute break. He’ll be with you shortly.”
