Just North of Whoville Turiskylie, Joyce (smart books to read .TXT) 📖

“There is no Mrs. Claus,” he admitted.

“Then how do you sleep at night!?!?“ I railed. “You’re setting little children up for a lifetime of disappointment. Some things are just impossible. And you need to tell them that. Like getting a horse. Or moving to New York and being successful…” I trailed off.

“What would you like for Christmas this year?” he asked. Like I was falling for that old hat trick again.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, Santa. But can’t give me what I want. I want to see my family. I want my best friend to forgive me for not being honest about her sniveling boyfriend. I want a job. And a place to live. And I want a really great guy to not lose his job and to not hate me because I fucked up. Sorry about the language, Santa.”

“It’s okay. It’s New York,” he admitted.

“I know I was probably a bad girl in certain respects, but I just needed an apartment. Do you know what the market’s like? I’m not a bad person, Santa. I guess I just didn’t do my best, that’s all.”

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to hurt anyone, Dorrie.”

“I really didn’t. I guess I’m just that dumb kid who still believes in stuff like Santa Claus.”

“Do you really believe in me, Dorrie?”

I looked into Santa’s big hazel eyes… Oh my god. I pulled on his beard.

“Ow!” Nate cried out. “That’s spirit gum,” he explained as he gently pulled a bit of the beard off his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“I talked to Steve last night, and then I went to your place and found Timmy sitting outside,” he motioned to Timmy who had a big smile spread across that big head of his.

“I’m so sorry. About lying to you…”

“It’s okay,” he said as he handed me a candy cane. “I hated that job. I have lots of other skills. See?” he said as he pointed to his Santa costume.

“You don’t need to get mixed up with me. I’m a disaster area.”

“You’re not a disaster. And there’s an elf over there who will testify to that,” he said as he pointed to Timmy Tinsel who beamed next to his fellow-elf, Prancer. And then they grabbed each other’s hands like the cutest couple in Santaland.

“You don’t think I’m a mess?” I let him in for a dose of reality. “I was just having a discussion with Santa.”

“Oh yeah? Well I’m dressed as Santa! Take that! I don’t even celebrate Christmas---I’m Jewish!”

“You don’t celebrate Christmas? Oh my god! You’re the best Santa ever!”

For that, he got a bigger kiss than any Santa at Kendall’s Department Store had ever received from me.

The next morning, I woke up to a ringing phone. I let my answering machine pick up.

“Hi, honey! It’s Mom. Merry Christmas!” she yelled as if she were calling from another planet. “Are you sleeping? Pick up!”

“Mom?” I said as I groggily shut off the machine.

“Good morning!” she said all bright and cheery. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I’m awake,” I replied. Why retired people get up at the crack of dawn I’ll never understand.

“Is it snowing there?” she asked in a typical Mom non sequitur.

“I don’t know. I just woke up.”

“I heard it was snowing in New York. Go look outside!” she yelled from Pluto.

I pulled back the curtain and looked outside. It was snowing. And then I noticed a commotion on the street.

“Merry Christmas, honey!” my mother yelled out and I could see her and Dad waving from the sidewalk below. “We figured that if you couldn’t come to us, this year we’d come to you!”

They left Milwaukee? For me? Get out.

“Go get dressed and come down. We’re all going to breakfast then we’re going to see the tree at Rockefeller Center! Your friend Celia has a car and a driver so we’ll just wait down here.”

I looked across the street to see Celia standing beside a black limo. Then I heard my cell phone beep. It was a text from Celia.

“I’m sorry. Come 2 breakfast.”

Christmas turned out to be not so bad, after all. I had a wonderful day with my parents as we walked all around the city. They LOVED the decorations.

Timmy and Prancer were at the rink that afternoon and we all went skating together and had a lovely day. Mom admitted that she was relieved that “that young man” as she called him, wasn’t my boyfriend.

“He’s sweet honey, but you need a more mature man.”

My “mature man” and I had our first official date New Year’s Eve and we shared a kiss on top of the Empire State Building.

Yeah, we knew it was pretty schmaltzy, but schmaltz is just another word for “Jealous That We’re Happy?”

Celia and I had a nice discussion on the ice Christmas day as my parents drank their hot chocolate from the sidelines. Oddly, she apologized to me. She admitted that she’d suspected Alex all along; and wondered why she’d wasted so much time on him. She was sorry she’d put me in the middle and hoped I would forgive her.

Forgive her?

No wonder good things always happen to Celia. She’s just that nice.

Turns out, Celia’s friend Antoine was the Art Director for the Old Navy store. I showed him Timmy’s elf photo, and a few days later, Timmy got a job on a national commercial for Old Navy. They adore him! Timmy asked me to be his manager. I told him I’d only do it temporarily till a real manager came along. He’s gonna be a star!

As for me, I’m still plugging along. Still doing my little plays, but it’s not so bad with Nate there to encourage me that I will eventually get