Maybe, just maybe, this time around they would get things right.
Chapter Thirteen
Dante made his way through the downtown area of Mistletoe as he headed toward the town green for his shift at the Christmas Frolic. Mistletoe resembled a picture-perfect postcard of a quaint New England town getting ready to celebrate the most joyful time of the year. Last night’s snowfall had cast its wintry magic all over town, and the smell of Christmas hung in the air—peppermint, pine cones, and evergreens. Everywhere Dante looked it appeared as if someone had sprinkled Christmas cheer all over his hometown. Tinsel and candy canes and decorations galore. He wouldn’t be surprised if he saw a fleet of reindeer flying down from the sky led by Santa Claus himself.
Memories came flooding back to him. He’d been attending the annual Christmas Frolic ever since he was a toddler. It had been one of his dad’s favorite Mistletoe traditions. Every year he’d entered the pecan pie eating competition and participated in the Christmas cookie extravaganza. His dad had baked a mean iced sugar cookie that had won him a multitude of ribbons. Although he’d always tried to act as if he was nonchalant about his wins, they’d all seen the evidence of his deep pride. Those were some wonderful memories he held deep in his heart.
Being here today made him feel connected to his dad, which was one of the reasons he’d agreed to help Lucy today with the event. The other reason was Lucy herself. Dante would do just about anything to make her happy. He was crazy about her. With no filming taking place today, it provided him with a rare opportunity to be a part of the holiday action.
He walked through the town green, smiling at all the special holiday touches. The ice sculptures were magnificent—angels, Christmas trees, and a nativity scene. He’d never seen so much tinsel in his life. The gigantic evergreen tree sat squarely in the center of all the activity. Later on tonight, the townsfolk would gather and decorate the tree as a community. A choir would be singing carols and handing out candy canes to the kids. Excitement hummed in the air even though the event didn’t start for a few hours.
He spotted Lucy exactly where she’d said she would be. She was standing at the Santa’s Village display dressed in the most adorable elf costume. If all Santa’s elves looked this enticing in their costumes, Dante would have volunteered ages ago. Lucy was pacing back and forth with her lips moving a mile a minute. Was she talking to herself? If so, she was having a rip-roaring conversation.
Before he could even greet her, Lucy threw her hands in the air and began talking up a storm.
“We have a problem,” Lucy announced. There was more than a hint of drama in her statement. The look of panic on her face didn’t match the uplifting holiday vibe surrounding them.
“What is it? How can I help?” Dante asked. He was eager to assist in any way possible. Coming back home reinforced the fact that he was a member of the Mistletoe community. He knew the importance of this event. It was the highlight of the Mistletoe holiday season. Dante was ready to roll up his sleeves and get to work.
“Santa has food poisoning. We need a replacement for this afternoon,” she said. “If we don’t have a Santa Claus in the village there’s going to be trouble with the kids who are expecting him. I can’t stand the thought of them being disappointed.”
“This afternoon?” Dante let out a low whistle. “That’s short notice. Maybe I can make some calls to a few old friends.” His mind was scrambling to come up with a suitable person for the job. Someone older. A portly physique would be beneficial as well as a pleasant attitude.
Lucy bit her lip. “We don’t have time for that. Santa has to be in his suit and primed for action in less than an hour. We usually like to take some pictures beforehand for the local paper.”
“Oh, wow. That’s a bummer for the kids. What kid doesn’t want a meet and greet with Santa?” He vividly remembered being eight years old and not being able to sleep the night before Santa’s town visit. He’d written a list the length of his arm and presented it to the man in the red-and-white suit with the utmost optimism.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be if a certain hometown hero steps in,” Lucy drawled. The smile that broke out on Lucy’s face made him weak in the knees. She could move mountains with that mesmerizing smile. He was sure of it.
Hometown hero? Wait a minute. She couldn’t possibly be talking about him. The hopeful expression etched on Lucy’s face answered his question. She wanted him to get dressed up in a red-and-white Santa suit, don a white beard and mustache, then listen to Christmas wish lists?
“Me? Are you serious? No, Lucy. I can’t do it.” Dante vigorously shook his head. He needed to nip this idea in the bud before it spiraled out of control. There was no way he was suiting up to play Santa Claus. The idea of working with kids made him nervous. It wasn’t at all in his wheelhouse. He’d done it once before as a struggling actor trying to make ends meet and it had been disastrous. Dante had roasted in the hot California sun wearing the heavy, itchy Santa suit. He’d been a complete failure at the job, managing to make several kids cry while others had accused him of being a fake Jolly Old Saint Nicholas.
Within seconds her expression morphed into a familiar one. Every time Lucy wanted something from him back in the day she’d given him a mournful, wide-eyed look. From what he remembered, it had worked wonders.
Lucy folded her hands prayerfully. “Please, Dante. It’s for the kids. It’s town tradition to have Santa sit front and center at the gazebo on the town green. Don’t you remember how much we loved it when we were kids? All you would have to do is listen to what the kids want for Christmas and utter a few ho ho hos. Easy peasy.”
Dante grimaced. “I don’t have very much experience with little kids. To be honest, they kind of scare me,” he admitted. “I just don’t think I can do it convincingly.”
Lucy let out a wild hoot of laughter. “You perform some of your own movie stunts, don’t you? Yet a bunch of little kids terrifies you?”
“Basically,” he said. “I won’t know what to do if they cry or have a tantrum.” He shuddered at the thought of it.
Lucy swatted him with her hand. “You can charm birds from the trees. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with small children. They’re all going to be so excited about Christmas and the presents that’ll be under the tree. We can’t disappoint them. It’s tradition.”
“We?” Dante asked with a raised brow.
She did a little twirl. “I’m one of Santa’s helpers. Come on. How can you resist my elfin charms?” Dante swept his gaze over Lucy’s formfitting costume. She did look pretty enticing. Now if Lucy wanted to sit on his lap he wouldn’t have a problem with it.
“Wait a minute. What about Nick? He actually has a kid, so he’s got experience. Or Troy. He has those broad shoulders that would fill out a Santa suit nicely,” Dante suggested. At this point he didn’t care who he was throwing under the bus. Anyone but him.
Lucy frowned. “I already called Nick. No answer.” She made a face. “And when I called Troy, he suggested that I ask you.”
Dante let out a shocked sound. “He said that? What a punk. He’s been doing that ever since we were kids.” Dante shook his head in disbelief. “Always pointing the finger in my direction.”
Lucy folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot. “I know you and Troy have major sibling issues, but can we focus on the current crisis at hand? Will you or will you not suit up as Santa Claus for the Christmas Frolic?”
Seconds ticked by during which Dante felt completely immobilized. He really really really didn’t want to be Santa, but with every passing moment his options were becoming extremely limited. He would look incredibly mean-spirited if he didn’t say yes. Especially since Christmas was coming soon. He would seem like a Grinch.
He heaved a tortured sigh. “All right. I surrender. Suit me up.”
Lucy let out an earsplitting shriek. She rushed at him, throwing her arms around him in a gigantic bear hug. Having her in his arms was a pretty big consol
ation prize for taking on this gig. He liked the way she fit perfectly into the crook of his arm.
She looked up at him, her brown eyes twinkling. “I knew that Mistletoe could count on you.”
“You did?” he asked. He didn’t want to say it, but he’d been seconds away from flat-out refusing. Had her faith in him been restored by this act of kindness?
“Yes! You wouldn’t have come back home if you didn’t believe in this town.”
“True. Most of all, I believe in you, Lucy. If anyone else had asked me to do this I wouldn’t have agreed.” He was being completely honest with her and he hoped Lucy could see his sincerity. She was opening up to him little by little and peeling back the layers. They’d come a long way in the short time he’d been back in Mistletoe. She’d surprised him the other night by inviting him to the movies and then asking him to help out today at the Christmas Frolic. She was thawing to him. Although the past still loomed over them at certain times, Dante was convinced that they’d managed to turn a corner.
“But you did say yes, so now you have to quickly get suited up,” Lucy said, clapping her hands together. “The line to see Santa is always huge, so you should get a little hydrated after you put the costume on. You might feel a little stuffy inside the suit, so if you need a break you can just give me the high sign.”
Ugh. Costumes were usually stifling and smelly. In the fledgling days of his acting career he’d worked as a character at a theme park. Dante shuddered at the recollection of how dirty the outfits had been. He hoped this one had just been picked up from the cleaners. Lucy pulled him by the arm to a makeshift dressing room behind the Santa’s Village area. She reached into a garment bag and pulled out a red-and-white Santa suit that looked as if it had seen better days.
“Ta-da!” she said in a spirited voice as she held it up. Immediately Lucy scrunched up her nose and sneezed, followed by a flurry of sneezes.
Oh, great. The outfit was giving Lucy a case of the sneezes. That really didn’t bode well. Dante reached for the costume. It was in decent condition although it reeked of mothballs. The smell was quite potent. “This thing needs to be Febrezed or something,” Dante said. “It reeks.”
“Sorry about that. The costume came from someone’s attic. It should air out now that it’s out of the bag.” Lucy’s expression was sheepish. There was no way she truly believed the smell would fade. It was so strong it made his eyes tear up. Hopefully none of the kids would pass out from the stench.
“Why don’t you put it on? Here are the accessories,” Lucy said, handing him a plastic bag. “Come out when you’re done.” Lucy drew the curtain closed and he could hear her boots shuffling as she walked away.
Dante grunted and began taking off his clothes so he could put the Santa suit on. After a few minutes of tugging and adjusting, he finally shimmied into the outfit. He patted the stretched-out stomach area of the costume and frowned. Hopefully Lucy had a little stuffing to fill out the stomach to make him look authentic. Lastly, he put on the beard, mustache, and tiny pair of glasses. Too bad he didn’t have a mirror so he could look at himself. With a tortured sigh he pulled the curtain back and stepped out. Lucy was sitting a few feet away from him looking at her phone.
“Ho ho ho,” he said in a weak imitation of the various Santa impersonators who’d made his holiday dreams come true. Lucy swung her gaze up in response to his greeting. She stood up and walked over, her eyes roaming from head to toe. Almost instantly, her face crinkled up and she began to giggle. Within seconds the giggle turned into a deep chuckle. Before long she was clutching her stomach and letting loose with huge belly laughs. No words were coming out of her mouth. At one point she was laughing so hard she had to lean over at the waist to catch her breath. Several times she tried to compose herself, but each time she ended up cackling with laughter.
“Oh, goodness. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me, but—” She clapped her hand over her mouth as more giggles emerged.
He should have known better than to put the Santa suit on. He’d only done it to make Lucy happy, but he wasn’t thrilled about looking like a fool. “I look like an idiot, don’t I?”
“No, you don’t. I promise,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “You look like a perfect Santa Claus.”
“Ha! You shouldn’t tell lies, Lucy Marshall. Your laughter spoke volumes.”
“I’m sorry for laughing. Honestly, it was more because of the irony of a hot movie star putting on a Santa suit than anything else. You look like a very respectable Old Saint Nick. I promise.”
Dante could feel a grin stretching from ear to ear on his face. “So you think I’m hot, huh?”
Lucy shrugged. “You’re okay, I guess.”
“Too late. You said I was hot.” He stroked his jaw. “They don’t call me Inferno for nothing,” he teased.
“You did not just say that!” Lucy said, letting out a groan.
“Hey, you were the one who said I was hot,” Dante said, grinning. “And it’s too late for you to take it back.”
She slapped a hand against her forehead. “Are you ever going to drop this?”
“Nope,” he said with a grin. “I’m having way too much fun with it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, you know you’re hot. It’s not like they give Sexiest Man Alive to celebrities who aren’t serious eye candy. I’m sure a million people have told you so over the years.”
He took off his Santa glasses and locked gazes with her. “I’ve had my fair share of compliments, but it means more coming from you, Lucy.”
They were standing so close to each other that Dante could see the little caramel flecks in her brown eyes. If he moved an inch closer, he could easily kiss her. As it was, her perfectly shaped pink lips were offering an invitation he was finding hard to ignore. Lucy tilted her face upward. Her eyes were bright and filled with joy. He didn’t want to do a single thing to dampen her spirit. This moment wasn’t about him getting close to Lucy. It was about suiting up as Santa to help the Mistletoe community.
“So what’s next?” Dante asked, taking a step away from her. He saw a momentary flash of something that resembled disappointment in Lucy’s eyes. She quickly recovered by shuttering her expression.
“Are you ready to take some promo pics? I promise not to tell the photographer your identity. It’s better to just call you Santa.”
“I’m good with however you want to handle it,” Dante said. And he meant it. He hated to see actors who considered themselves above certain roles or community service endeavors. He never wanted to be perceived in that negative light. If Dante West dressing up as Santa would help Lucy and the town of Mistletoe in any way, he was all for it. He owed his hometown a huge debt of gratitude. He wouldn’t ever have risen so high as an actor if it hadn’t been for his family and this town. Being back here cemented it, bringing the situation into clear focus. As for Lucy, there really wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her, even if it took a little coaxing.
“Let’s maintain a little mystery,” Lucy said. “That way we won’t run the risk of the kids hearing at some point that it was you in the costume. Does that make sense?”
“Sounds good to me. Let’s go take some photos,” Dante said, clapping his hands together. Even though he was dreading this gig, excitement thrummed in the air. So many townsfolk were milling around with smiles on their faces—especially the kids—their joy felt infectious.
The photo shoot was fun, especially since Lucy was in most of the pictures as Santa’s very special helper. In one shot she was sitting on his lap and pressing a kiss against his cheek. In another he hoisted her over his shoulder and her pert backside was facing the camera. He made a point to ask the photographer to send him that particular photo. He planned to frame it and put it in a special place at his home in Los Angeles. The thought shook him a little bit. It was the first time he’d thought of Lucy and the future.
At noon sharp, kids started lining up for a visit with Santa. Lucy had walked him thr
ough everything, and his nerves had finally settled down. He wasn’t sure why he was putting so much pressure on himself. If he couldn’t play Santa Claus, he wasn’t much of an actor, he reminded himself. Maybe it was because he knew how special this experience was for the kids here in town.
For the next hour straight, Dante used every ounce of his acting talent to portray the best Santa Claus the town of Mistletoe had ever seen. He channeled every single movie he’d ever seen with Santa in it. Miracle on 34th Street had always been his favorite. The actor who’d played Santa, Edmund Gwenn, had even won an Oscar for his role as Kris Kringle.
The first hour passed in a blur as dozens of kids sat beside Santa’s throne and recited their Christmas list wishes to him. Every type of kid stopped by—shy ones, funny ones, energetic ones, nervous ones, loud ones, and even a few bratty ones. With Lucy standing nearby as his elf helper, it made playing Santa Claus way more fun than it would have been otherwise. Whenever there was a short break in the action, they made jokes and snapped pics on Lucy’s cell phone. When he finished up with each child, Lucy would walk them back to their parents while Dante beckoned another child to come visit with him.
Then Tess was standing at front of the line decked out in a blue winter coat with a red-and-white candy-cane-striped dress with matching leggings on underneath. He wasn’t an expert on kids, but he thought she might just be the most adorable one he’d ever known. Dante beckoned her forward as Elf Lucy escorted the previous kid back to their waiting parent. Tess came forward and sat down on the bench next to him.
“Hi, Dante. How’s it going?” Tess asked, peering up at him.
“Ho ho ho. The name is Santa Claus, my dear. What’s your name?” Dante asked, startled by Tess’s rapid discovery that it was him inside the Santa suit.
“I know it’s you, Dante,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Don’t worry. I don’t believe in Santa Claus anymore.”
“Aww. That’s a bummer. Did I do something to give it away?” A terrible thought crossed his mind. “Did you just find out right now? Am I the reason you don’t believe in Santa Claus anymore?” His heart was beating fast waiting for Tess’s reply. Lucy might skin him alive if he was the reason her baby sister no longer believed in good old Kris Kringle.
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