“Instead of your buddies, you’ll spend your week with a moose, an elf, a gingerbread man, and a nutcracker.”
“Lucky me.”
“I have to write up a daily report for the judge on your cooperative efforts,” she told him. “So give it your all.”
His jaw shifted left, then right, and his stare turned cold. Santa had gone all silent and wintry.
She returned to the rules. “You must be as nice to the last child as you are to the first. You ask each one what he or she wants for Christmas, but never promise the delivery of the gift. Many parents can’t afford what their child requests. Afterward, the elves from the photo booth will snap the holiday picture.”
Alex looked down at her. His ice blue eyes were magnified behind the prescription lenses. “What part do you play in this insanity?”
“I’m the nutcracker.”
“Perfect typecasting.”
She ignored him. “Your Santa bag is filled with candy canes.”
“I hate the scent of peppermint.”
“Get used to it,” she said flatly. “Each child gets a cane. There will be a decorative gift box by your chair with discount coupons from the local merchants. You’ll need to give an envelope to each parent.”
“You’re asking me to remember a lot.”
“Try to extend your mind beyond bat and ball.”
He cut her a sharp look. “Stop cracking my nuts.”
“Speaking of which, I need to change into my costume.” She motioned toward the door. “Step outside, please.”
“I dressed in front of you. Feel free to strip before me.”
“Not in this lifetime, Santa. Hit the door. I’ll be with you in fifteen,” she instructed.
Alex Boxer sauntered out. He’d have liked to watch Holly undress; it would’ve turned him on. He’d always had a thing for blondes with gold hoop earrings in flirty yellow sundresses. She touched on pretty with her big brown eyes and sexy mouth. Unfortunately, she was too thin for his liking. He preferred a woman with a nice rack and curvy booty. He enjoyed the wiggle and jiggle of the female body.
He’d been looking forward to a lot of jiggle in Miami. Skimpy shorts and thong bikinis flashed a lot of skin. Spandex hugged a lot of curves. Alex and six other single guys on the Rogues baseball team had booked condos on South Beach. They’d planned to raise hell between Christmas and New Year’s.
Instead of suntanned and oiled twins, he now faced children sitting on his lap. Any one of them could pee on him. He’d be handing out candy canes and store coupons. Not close to the wild time he’d originally planned for the holidays.
“I’m ready.” The crack of the door revealed Holly to him.
Costumed as a nutcracker soldier, she could barely fit her big wooden head through the frame. Painted in the Old World style, the face had severely arched eyebrows and wide black eyes. A tall black hat topped her head. A moveable lever below her left ear opened and closed her jaw.
A red jacket with gold epaulettes hung large on her small shoulders. Baggy black pants and boots with gold glitter rounded out her outfit.
Rifle in hand, she poked him with the bayonet. “Down the hall and to your right, the door will open into Santa’s Workshop. There will be hammering elves, a dancing moose, and a gingerbread man decorating his freshly baked house.”
Alex backed against the wall. “Honest to God, I can’t go through with this. I feel stupid.”
“Stupid is as stupid does. Playing Santa is the price you pay for a speeding ticket.” She jabbed him a second time. “The kids are waiting for you. Move your red velvet butt.”
“Careful where you poke,” he cast over his shoulder. “No need to ream me a second.”
He made it down the hall, even with the glasses distorting his vision. There was a clamor beyond the door, loud with pounding, laughing, and what he swore sounded like an animal’s bellow.
He cracked the door, squinted. He didn’t like what he saw. “There’s a live reindeer tied to a post beside my Santa chair.”
“His name is Randolph.” He heard Holly expel her breath within the hollow head of her costume. “He wasn’t supposed to be here this year. He offends people.”
“Offends people how?” Alex asked. “Does he bite? Kick? Spit like a camel?”
“None of the above.”
“Then what?” he pressed.
“He passes gas.”
“Son of a bitch,” Alex snarled. “Kids peeing on my lap and now reindeer farts. Could it get any worse?”
The day went downhill fast.
Holly suggested that he give a robust “ho-ho-ho” on his entrance. His greeting was far from jovial—it sounded low, guttural, and grumpy.
His appearance silenced the crowd.
He felt captured in a freeze frame. Everyone stared at him.
The fathers looked skeptical.
The mothers were oddly appreciative.
The children shifted nervously.
One little girl started to cry.
Alex didn’t mind crowds. He was used to them. The Richmond Rogues drew tens of thousands of fans to James River Stadium. He’d been cheered and booed by the best of them.
A line of holiday shoppers didn’t faze him in the least. Let the people stare. It gave him time to check out Santa’s Workshop.
The day topped ninety degrees, yet the mall had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Muzak blasted “A Holly Jolly Christmas” above air-conditioning units cranked to the max. Frost hung on the air, and Alex swore he could see his breath.
Mock snow crunched beneath his Nikes as he walked the short path to Santa’s Workshop. Garlands and tiny white lights wrapped a red corduroy high-back chair. He swung the bag filled with candy canes off his shoulder, settling it between himself and Randolph the Reindeer.
Randolph didn’t give him the time of day. The reindeer kept to his business of munching hay. His white tail twitched.
The scent of cinnamon wafted from the gingerbread house.
The evergreen decorated with enormous red and green balls cast the rich fragrance of forest pine.
“Back to work.” Holly the Nutcracker clapped her hands, and the elves returned to their workshop tasks.
The commotion grew as Santa’s little helpers put together bikes and wrapped toys for the mall customers.
Alex watched as the costumed moose danced down the line of children patiently waiting to relay their wish lists. The moose was tall, thick, but light on his feet. He played a triangle to the holiday tunes.