I tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling. “Can you help me out a bit? I’m really not in the mood for this today, and I could use some support here. I’m not sure if you’re on vacation or what these days but come on, already. A girl’s got her limits.” I shook my hands at the ceiling.
Harold stood and pointed at me with his bony little finger. “Stop trying to go over my head to upper management!”
I managed not to laugh at him, but I couldn’t stop the smirk. A person only has so much control. If he knew what I was dealing with lately, he’d understand it was next to impossible to worry about him.
He leaned over his desk, placing his palms flat on its surface. “Don’t think I don’t see you.”
“Well, I certainly hope so, with those glasses.” I made a circular motion with my finger towards his face. “I’m not sure there are thicker lenses available, so it’s a good thing they’re working out for you.”
“That’s right, make your jokes.” His fist slammed the desk. “But I know there’s something wrong. I knew it when you first came on. I knew it when you walked in here one day, somehow different.” He leaned as far over the desk as he could. “And I know it now.”
“Well, I did get my hair cut and caught some rays last week. Could it be the tan?” I squinted like I was pondering the changes in my appearance.
“You don’t want to make an enemy of me.” His voice was soft and low, and the threat in it threw me over the edge. I was being threatened from every side these days, and I wasn’t going to let one more go unanswered.
I stood and inched closer to him, helping him out, since he seemed to be looking for the close proximity. “Now, let me tell you something. When I came here, I was looking for help and guidance. What did I get from you? You dumped me in a parking lot and shoved me off on Fate. Still, I went to you again, asking for help. What did you say? ‘Go figure it out on your own.’”
I straightened and walked over to his door, hand on the knob and paused. “So, you should understand if I’m figuring it out on my own, now. If you don’t like the way I’m handling things, you should figure it out on your own. You know why?” I let go of the door handle and walked back over to his desk and stabbed my finger down. “Because I. Don’t. Care.”
By the time I was done, he was leaning away from me. I turned and walked out, leaving his door wide open as I did. Every head in the office swung to look at me when Harold slammed it shut a minute later.
Bernie, not far from me, nodded his head toward the office. “What’s his problem?”
“He was looking for some together time and I said I felt like playing alone. He’s feeling a bit rejected.”
Bernie accepted this information with another nod, as if it were completely logical and normal. There were some perks to working in a place where everyone was crazy. Since I’d been here, not once had I heard anyone say, ‘No way, you’ve got to be kidding.’
I grabbed my notepad out of my desk drawer and headed over to my table. Technically, it was the office’s table, but I’d staked out my claim well enough that no one sat there.
“He’s back! The big guy’s in the house!” The Jinxes did know how to make an entrance. After they lapped the place on their boards, making sure they disrupted every possible person they could, they skidded to a stop by me.
“Really? Santa’s back? I thought he wasn’t coming until next week?” I immediately told myself to shut up. Too many questions all bunched together like that and I’d sound as nervous as I was.
“Got an early flight. Said he was starting to burn,” Bobby said. He leaned in close then, “Where’s our shit?”
I’d hoped they wouldn’t ask, but I’d been prepared anyway. The corner liquor store was on my way to work and a gallon of scotch, wrapped in the prerequisite brown paper bag, sat in my car. “In my trunk. My keys are in—”
“Don’t need the keys.” Bobby signaled to Buddy and Billy. “Our target has been located in the rust bucket.”
They called my car the rust bucket? Well that was just rude.
I watched them take off on their skateboards and hoped they could hold their liquor.
They cruised through the excited crowd. Crow was doing a little hop, Murphy was clapping and everyone was heading toward the door. Santa was here.
I’d wanted to meet Santa but not anymore. What if he knew I was on the naughty list? What’s worse than not meeting Santa? Meeting him and being told you were getting a lump of coal.
Luck, as happy as the rest of them, came running over to me. “Come on!” she said, and grabbed my arm, trying to pull me toward the door and everyone else.
This was the most animated I’d seen her since Kitty disappeared.
“I don’t know. He’s got so many people going to see him. I don’t want to inundate him when he’s just getting back. We should let him get settled in.” I leaned back, resisting her urging.
She dropped her hand and stood back, assessing me. “Why are you acting so weird?”
“What do you mean?” I shrugged.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” She didn’t know what was wrong, but she knew there was something. For someone most people would write off as a flaky trollop, she had laser point instincts.
Oh no, she wasn’t getting more secrets out of me today. I plastered a smile on my face. “You’re right. I really do want to meet him. Let’s go.”
She relaxed and smiled as I stood and started to walk next to her.
I really hoped there wasn’t a physical list pinned in the office somewhere. Forget getting caught, everyone would know I was naughty!
It wasn’t like I wanted to be doing any of this or was trying to hurt anyone. Wasn’t saving Kitty a good reason? Hell, I only made sure people didn’t get hurt. If I was on that naughty list, I’d be giving Santa a piece of my mind.
Okay, time to get a grip. I was rationalizing and making excuses to Santa and I didn’t even know if I had been caught, yet. When had I changed from nerves of steel into bones of Jello? Death really had messed with me. I’d become rude, sarcastic and blood thirsty. Now I could add paranoid to the list. In the three minutes it took to get to Santa’s floor, I’d talked myself into—and back out of—innocence four times.
By time we reached Santa’s door, everyone in the building was there. Mother and her gardeners, the Tooth Fairy and his assistants, Death, Bernie—basically, everyone in the building—and all I could think of was the amount of possible witnesses to my shame. I was going to have to add self-absorbed to that list of changes since death.
The door opened to a sour faced elf. “You’re all here. What a shock,” he said, in perfect deadpan delivery. Put a glass of booze in his tiny fingers, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he’d be ready for stand up in some little dive in New York.
“What’s with the cranky elf?” I whispered to Luck as we walked into a very unimpressive office, not much different than our own.
“It was his turn to work off season. They always get really prickly when they work straight through.” She waved her hand as if it were no big deal.
“Can’t he take some time off?”
“Yes, but none of them ever want to miss the prime season.” She was whispering now, since the elf we were gossiping about was giving us the eye, like he knew.
“Single file, you know the drill,” cranky elf said.
So, I’d be going in alone? It was something, at least. Luck rattled on as we made our way up the line. My uh huhs seemed to satisfy her enough, but it was a good thing she didn’t need more. I had no idea what she was even saying to me by time we made it to the front of the line.
“Make it sometime today!” the elf said as the door loomed in front of me, no bodies buffering the way any longer.
Luck gave me a shove from behind and my feet took over after that. The door looked similar to Harold’s, so when I swung it open, I was expecting a small square office of the bland variety.