by Helen Allan
“Low blow,” I mutter as I read the words on the side of the hat.
“One kiss and I knew I could never marry Aurora. One night and I knew I could never leave you.”
“But you did!”
I cry the words, going over the night he left, remembering, as I have so many, many times before, the sight of him beside Aurora. Santa’s words, his face.
‘Yes, he did leave, but I’d ordered him to. Would he have stayed if I’d given him the chance to explain? Was I too hasty? Too shocked when I heard what Aurora said? Or was I just worried, deep down, that I wasn’t good enough to replace all he would lose by staying?’
The next sculpture answers my question. I pull up and sit for a time, staring at it through the truck window. It’s me, crying. He has his arms around me, and his eyes are full of sorrow. On his hands, around my waist, are inscribed the words:
“You told me to go because you thought that was what I wanted – you always give, it’s your way. You thought I wanted to keep my magic, take the job. But I no longer wanted that, Holly.”
I swallow hard, shaking my head.
‘Could it be true? Could he really have been planning to give up his dream of being Santa, his magic, for me? And could I have allowed him to do that? No.’ I shake my head. ‘I would never have asked that of him. I did the right thing, telling him to leave.’
I drive on. I’m almost at the town now, and on the outskirts, several people are surrounding and studying another sculpture. They applaud me when I approach, and I blush as I see what they are admiring. I’m embarrassed, but also, touched. It’s me, asleep on the bed, nude, and he is lying beside me, his hand twirling a lock of my hair, his face showing nothing but adoration.
On the pillow are the words: “You are magic.”
Ignoring some of the suggestive offers from a few of the younger men surrounding the sculpture, I get into my car and drive into town. In the town square is one huge, final sculpture. It’s me, and him.
I’m standing, looking down at him. He’s on his knees before me, there’s a gaping hole in his chest, and in his outstretched hands, he’s holding out his heart.
“It’s been a long year, too long. Come home.”
I walk back to the truck and sit inside for a long, long time. So long that the heater stops working and my nose turns blue.
‘What does it all mean? Is he back in the human realm to stay, or visit? Does he really love me? That heart…oh God, if only he knew that he took mine with him when he left. ‘Come home’ he wrote, and yet, he was here, surely, to do those sculptures. Is he so unsure of my feelings that he is giving me a choice? Could there even be a choice? I’d move heaven and earth to see him now, heaven and earth. But is this what he really wants?’
Finally, my emotions under control, I walk to the store to pick up Francesco’s marble, stopping by the post office, almost in a daze, to find a box from Sapphire. We write to each other regularly, but I’m sure I told her to stop writing last month since I was planning on coming home.
Slipping my finger into the box, I gasp and cry out as a pain sears through my hand. Frowning I put my finger into my mouth and gingerly open the rest of the package. Inside is my elf costume from home and two tiny sprites.
“We have a message for you,” one squeaks.
“But we’ll only tell you if you feed us,” the second grins.
“Candy,” the first one shouts up, it’s voice so tiny, it could be mistaken for a mosquito’s buzz, “on pizza.”
“Candy, of course,” I roll my eyes.
20
KRIS
If she comes dressed in the costume, I’ll know her feelings mirror mine.
And if she doesn’t, well, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
I’ve had a lot of time to think through those last few days with her, twelve long months in fact, and I think I understand now, why she ordered me away. Yes, she was heartbroken about Aurora, and I’ll have to spend a great deal of time making that up to her. But when she ordered me away I could have said something, and I didn’t. My pride was hurt, and my heart was wounded – I thought I’d imagined her feelings for me, that she was planning on going back to Louis and wanted me gone.
But I know her better than that.
I should have anticipated she would want me to take the job, urge me to leave. She was hurt, hurt about Aurora, but knowing Holly, it was mostly self-sacrifice on her part to make me go. She didn’t want to deny me the opportunity she thought I wanted. And I hadn’t said anything to make her think otherwise.
I think back to the discussion we had over the role of Santa. She’d been quiet when I told her I’d wanted to be Santa, too quiet. Thoughtful. Why? Why didn’t I tell her I was going to give up the job, that I wanted to stay and be with her, that I loved her?
‘And why did I allow my foolish pride to stop me chasing her up the stairs?’
I think about the sculptures I’d left all along the road in Pietrasanta for her – still too unsure of her feelings to confront her in person. The work I loved the most was of her lying asleep, nude, her hair shining red-gold in the sun.
I’d give all the gold in the world to run my hands through those curls again.
21
HOLLY
I look through the tall windows at the beautiful displays Kris and I had worked so hard on last year – still fresh and lovely, just as we had left them, and take a deep breath.
The bell jingles as I step into the shop, and I’m hit by the warmth, the music, and his sweet smell. I don’t think it’s my imagination, I can smell him, even here in the doorway.
‘God I’ve missed that.’
I walk nervously up the aisle, my high heels clip-clopping on the hardwood floors, polished to perfection, and stand behind the two women being served.
As they leave, all smiles, he looks up and meets my eyes, his own twinkling and suffused with warmth.
“Hello.”
“Hello, how can I help you?” he asks, his eyes are as soft, as deep and rich as I remembered them.
“Uh,” I clear my throat, “I’m looking for work and, uh, a little sprite told me you might be looking for staff.”
“I see, and are you experienced in hardware? Or maybe in art? Because when I purchased this business, I also bought the property next door. I plan to open a gallery.”
‘An art gallery?’
“Well,” I shrug, “I’m an elf, so…,
“An elf, yes,” he walks slowly around from behind the counter and studies me, head to toe, one eyebrow raised. I’m wearing the elf costume he once had me wear, from the red, sparkly high heels and tight spandex leggings, to the tiny, velvet dress. It clings where it always clung and accentuates all the bits he likes most.
I’m holding my breath as he looks at me. I want to throw myself into his arms, but I can’t - not yet. I need to know if he really feels the way I feel, after all this time, after everything. Ice sculptures and sprite messages aside, I need to hear it.
After a long minute of studying me, he shakes his head.
“I’m afraid I already have an elf on staff,” he says quietly.
“You do?” I hear my voice rise in surprise, panic gripping my chest that Aurora is here after all.
“Elf!” he smirks, calling towards the back room.
“Hey, oh Hi, Aunty Holly,” Sapphire smiles as she saunters out from the staff area dressed in full elf garb, “you get my package?”
I smile and step over to give her a brief hug.
“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” and I hope to Hell you and your sprites are right, “but I didn’t expect to find you in the store, I thought you’d be joining in all the Christmas preparation at grandma’s.”
“Yeah, I am, but Kris hired me for the holidays,” she nods, “Celyn and me.”
As she says this, a handsome young man walks out from the back room, a small Christmas hat sitting at a jaunty angle on his head. He�
�s absolutely gorgeous.
“This is my brother,” Kris smiles, “he’s 15 and helping out over the Christmas break too.”
“Hello,” the young elf smiles, perfect, even teeth, just like his brother’s, eyes just as beautiful and twinkling, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You have?”
“Sure,” he grins at his older brother, “anyway, we’re doing some repricing next door, so if you don’t mind.”
“By all means,” I shake my head, “don’t let me hold you up.”
I raise my eyebrows as Sapphire gives me a ‘look what I got for Christmas’ eye roll as they turn and walk back into the office.
“Oh, wait, Sapphire. Here,” I call out. Delving into my little velvet elf bag, I bring out two fat little sprites, “I believe these are yours.”
“Wow, what’d you feed them?” she laughs.
“Candy,” I shrug, “that’s what they said they wanted.”
“Naughty sprites,” she admonishes them, turning to follow Celyn.
“Well then,” I smile at Kris, shaking my head as the kids leave. “I guess you have all the help you need, what with your elvish staff and all.”
He smirks, and it hits me like a tonne of bricks just how much I’ve missed him.
‘God, I love this elf.’
I wait for him to speak, drinking in everything about him, like a woman stumbling upon an oasis in the desert.
He’s wearing a dark blue, long-sleeved ‘Goode’s Hardware’ shirt, which clings to his broad shoulders and chest, his little hat, and tight, blue jeans. Just the memory of what’s underneath those clothes sends a tingle through my body as I stand this close to him.
Seeing him also studying me, still silent. I think back to the day last winter when he walked into my store, and into my life, those first few minutes of conversation, and inwardly smile.
“Anyway,” I shrug, “I could use a job, and I’m pretty good with my hands.”
“Yes,” he nods, “but I need someone good with hearts.”
“Hearts?”
He sighs, shaking his head sadly. “Mine’s broken, you see,” he says, his tone sad, eyes sincere, “has been for the past twelve months, after the woman I love ordered me away. I’m concerned it might take an expert to fix it.”
“Mine’s a little damaged too,” I nod, “but I think I know the cure. And if you hire me,” I whisper as I look into his deep chocolate eyes and step closer, “I think I could have yours fixed by morning.”
He smiles and reaches for me, pulling me into his arms, “you’re hired” he murmurs, as his lips come crashing down on mine.
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Helen Allan
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A Christmas vampire romp with a difference and a happy ever after that will warm your heart.
