Mistletoe Magic

Chapter One

“Santa Claus has been getting out of line, if you ask me,” the elf in the red tunic said. The bells at the end of his peaked cap jingled as he continued emphatically, “We all know his rosy cheeks and nose are a little
too
red. He’s been boozing it up on his dinner break.” The elf looked around the storage room where Santa’s helpers had gathered among cartons of dolls, stuffed animals, games, and other toys.

Another elf, dressed in green, spoke up. “So he has a couple of glasses of wine with his food. He says it helps him feel more jolly. What’s the harm?”

“He’s jolly all right,” complained the reindeer, her large doe eyes blinking indignantly. “He’s so jolly he pinched me, right on the—”

“Haunch?” asked the green elf, laughing. “Santa’s been bad, for goodness’ sake!”

“It’s not funny, Terry,” said the teddy bear. “Santa’s been bothering more than his helpers. I’ve noticed him giving the eye to passing customers too. Just as I was lining up my camera to take a picture the other day, he winked at a good-looking mother and let her kid fall right off his lap. We’re representing Haldan-Northrop here. What kind of image does that kind of behavior present for an elegant Fifth Avenue store? It’s downright embarrassing.”

“I think we should report him to the promotions director before one of the customers does,” suggested Arlene, the black sugarplum fairy, flouncing her lavender tulle skirts.

Looking from face to disapproving face, Melissa Ryan, the other sugarplum fairy, stepped forward and spoke in her soft, melodic voice. “Wait a minute. Don’t you think we should talk to Santa first? After all, Clarence was unemployed for several months before he got this position. It’s hard to find jobs in New York. Let’s confront him and talk about it. He’s usually so good with the children,” she pleaded earnestly.

“Clarence means well,” Terry said, supporting Melissa. “And he really looks the part. He even grew his own beard for it. I think his flirting problem is due to loneliness and the fact that he’s always fancied himself a leading man, although he failed to get those roles in Hollywood or on Broadway. Have a heart, folks. Many of us are unemployed actors here.”

“Yeah. We know Clarence is a friend of yours, Terry,” grumbled the reindeer, undoing the zipper at the top of her antlered costume. “But something has to be done. Personally, I don’t care if you report him or talk to him, but please make a decision and tell me about it tomorrow. My shift is over for today.”

“Let’s talk to him,” Melissa suggested again. “We can all go together.”

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Arlene asked. “You’re the sympathetic one.”

“Yes, why don’t you?” agreed the teddy bear. “You’ve got more time. I’ve got to get my camera equipment ready.”

Terry turned to Melissa. “Clarence is my friend, but I think you might be able to handle him better,” he said.

“Okay. So it’s agreed,” chimed in the red elf. “Melissa’s going to talk to Clarence and if he doesn’t shape up then we go to the promotions director.”

As the group walked out of the room to the department-store floor, Melissa followed last, wondering how she had once again managed to place herself in a difficult situation. Why did it have to be she who had to talk to Santa? Could she make Clarence understand? She supposed it was worth a try. Although she’d known him for only a short time, she felt sorry for the older man. And talking to him as soon as possible was the only right thing to do. Well, she guessed she’d just have to give herself credit for being a “good fairy.”

Skirting the sign before Santa’s chair that stated he would be back at 6 p.m., she glanced at the photographer as he set up his equipment. The teddy bear had removed the paws of his costume to fiddle with his camera. A small boy and his adult escort were watching the proceedings, and when the child looked Melissa’s way, she gave him a radiant smile. The boy’s eyes grew wide with wonder. She knew he was impressed by her magical appearance. Well, at least she’d found one perfect part-time job for a five-foot-one-inch woman—not that she’d admit to being less than five feet two. Everyone insisted that, with her long flaxen curls and fragile features, Melissa looked like a real, honest-to-goodness fairy.

Deciding to go to the store’s business offices and look for Clarence, Melissa stepped onto a nearby escalator, carefully placing her ballet-slippered feet in the very center of a moving step. Then she adjusted her pink bespangled tulle skirts and pulled in her stiff net and wire wings to avoid the handrails swiftly gliding by. The costume wasn’t easy to walk around in since it caught on things so readily.

Disembarking on the upper floor, she inquired after Clarence, hoping she’d be able to find him, as usual, visiting with the attractive secretaries at the end of his break. Unfortunately, no one had seen him today. Feeling concerned and disappointed, Melissa quickly headed back downstairs. She would have to talk to the actor soon or he might lose his job.

When she’d said it was hard to find work in New York, she’d been speaking from personal experience. Melissa had lived in the city for two years, and after she’d had to quit a teaching position she couldn’t tolerate she’d used up her savings before finding a part-time library job reading stories to children. She wouldn’t have been able to make ends meet if she hadn’t been lucky enough to live with a roommate in a rent-controlled apartment. But her roommate had eloped recently and she was in a bind again. Although her neighbor Terry had helped her obtain this Santa’s helper position, the job would end at Christmas.

Entering the Santa’s Workshop area, Melissa found that it was too late to talk to Santa now. Clarence was already seated and several children were lined up to see him.

“Want to work the end of the line or the beginning?” Arlene asked her, indicating the velvet-rope-lined aisle that led past Santa’s chair.

“I’ll take the end,” Melissa replied. Maybe she’d have time to catch Clarence at the end of the evening. She grabbed a basket of lollipops from behind a counter and took her post. As Arlene kept order at the beginning of the rapidly growing line, Melissa would steer the children out at the end, giving each a Christmas lollipop. Eyeing Clarence with suspicion, Melissa watched him gently lift the first little girl onto his lap and incline his white-haired head. He didn’t so much as glance at the waiting adults. So far, it looked like he was behaving himself. Just in case, she intended to observe him closely all evening.

Thinking about her problems with employment again, Melissa tried to shake off a feeling of depression and assume a bright smile for the children. Just because she wouldn’t be able to make it home to Pennsylvania for the holidays didn’t mean she couldn’t spread holiday cheer to others. Still, she wondered what excuse she could give her family. She’d been sick with the flu last year. Did she dare pretend she was sick again? Telling them she didn’t have enough money would make her feel too much like a failure. Then Melissa came up with the perfect solution, an excuse that was part truth, part wishful thinking. She’d tell her parents she had to work on Christmas Eve—the truth!—and add she
might
have another job starting immediately the day after Christmas.

“Can I have some candy?” a childish voice interrupted her. The little girl who’d been sitting on Santa’s lap was looking at her expectantly.

“Sure, honey.” Melissa handed the child a striped lollipop. Then, returning the girl to her waiting mother, she pushed her concerns from her mind. It wasn’t all her fault anyway. Economic times were rough nationwide and the tough city of New York had bested stronger people than she. Fluffing out her wings, she determined to think positively—maybe her role as a good fairy would make her able to create some magical miracles for herself.

Several hours and many children later, still keeping an eye on Clarence, Melissa became aware that someone else was watching her. Looking toward the stuffed-toy counter, Melissa noticed an attractive older woman in an expensive-looking red wool coat standing with her boss, Huxley Benton, the promotions director. Sheltered by an almost life-size plush elephant, the two were conversing and staring directly at the pink fairy. Melissa suddenly grew nervous. Was she doing something wrong? Was Hux there to reprimand her? Before she had more time to worry, however, her tall boss and his companion came toward her.

“You’re so cute!” exclaimed the lady, smiling warmly and nodding so a few strands of her stylishly cut dark hair fell out of place. “You make a wonderful fairy. Are you an actress when you aren’t working at Haldan-Northrop?”

“No. I’m a teacher,” Melissa told her, trying to remain unperturbed by the woman’s remark about her being cute. This woman was probably trying to be friendly, but Melissa had had enough people tell her she was cute or adorable to last her a lifetime. Being tiny had serious disadvantages as far as she was concerned.

Smiling also, although his eyes remained appraising, Hux stared down at Melissa and folded his long arms across his elegantly tailored chest. “Melissa Ryan, right? I remember the name although I don’t recall much else from our interview. You’re a teacher? I guess that explains your flair with kids. The little devils act like they actually believe in your character.”

“Oh, Hux,” the woman remonstrated. “I don’t know why you say such mean things about children.”

“I’m only joking, Louise. You know I like your grandchildren,” Hux told her, then turned back to Melissa. “This is Louise Damon, the mother of an old friend of mine. She’s got an idea for some after-hours employment for you.”

Before Melissa could say anything, Louise asked, “How would you like to be the tooth fairy? I have a six-year-old granddaughter who would really enjoy it. I’d like to do something special for her since she’s had a hard time lately, her parents being divorced and all.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Could you visit our house and leave some money under her pillow tonight, maybe talk to her? It would thrill Gretta to see you in your costume. I can make it worth your while.”

“And I’d consider it a personal favor, Melissa,” Hux added.

She knew it certainly wouldn’t hurt to gain points with her boss, and she might as well get some more use out of the costume she’d had to buy. When Louise offered to pay a substantial fee, Melissa couldn’t help but be interested.

“You can take a taxi there and I’ll make sure you get home safely,” Louise said.

“If you like, I could tell Gretta a story,” Melissa offered. “Maybe I can think of something that has to do with teeth.”

“That would be lovely,” Louise agreed, her dark eyes sparkling. “You’ll accept my offer? Can you come after work?”

Melissa noted the scribbled Greenwich Village address Louise gave her. “Okay, but it will be after nine-thirty.”

While she worked the last half hour Melissa thought about what she’d do with the unexpected money. The amount wasn’t enough to get her back to her small hometown for the holidays, but she could at least send some presents to her family. Smiling to herself as she passed out candy, Melissa thought there was some advantage to living in a large city, after all. Where else would someone be willing to pay so much to have her play the tooth fairy? She couldn’t wait to tell her friends Terry and Clarence.

Then, suddenly remembering she was supposed to warn the old actor, she turned to find Santa’s chair empty as bells rang throughout the building, signaling the closing of the store. Melissa set off quickly to find Clarence and caught up with him outside the dressing room. Surprisingly, he took what she had to say very well, making Melissa feel like a true good fairy.

As she went to get her belongings she wondered if the rest of the evening would go as well.

It was a few minutes before ten when her taxi stopped in front of the three-story brownstone on a Greenwich Village side street. Even under the dim streetlights her pink costume sparkled where it peeked out below the hem of her well-worn down jacket. Aware of being stared at, she straightened her rhinestone tiara, raised her firm little chin, and regally swept across the sidewalk past a couple of snickering punk rockers. They had a lot of nerve! she thought, eyeing their multicolored hair and mismatched outfits.

Approaching the first-floor entrance of the building as instructed, Melissa took note of the long rectangular mullioned window lined with framed color photographs, most of them portraits of children. Stenciled on the glass, modest gold lettering outlined in black proclaimed this to be the residence of the Raphael Damon Photo Studio. About to ring the bell, she was startled when the door popped open.