Page 105 of Elf-ish

With my arm around Angelica, I say, “Put me to work.” I’m strangely excited to be here today but equally anxious. I’m not great around kids, which was proven by calling Santa a lie and making Angelica’s four-year-old nephew question the man in red.

Still, I want to give volunteering another try. I hadn’t done enough during Angelica’s breakfast with Santa.

“Okay. We’ve sorted the presents into categories. Ed is our Santa.” Angelica smiles at him. “The rest of us just need to get into our elf costumes.”

“What?” I snap.

“Santa needs helpers.” Angelica pats my chest, then steps over to a closet and removes several hangers with elf costumes stored in clear dry-cleaning bags.

“You might need to mix and match to find the right combination for you.”

Combination? Combination of what?

Quickly, I learn the getup includes tights beneath a short dress-like outfit with a belt around the waist and a felt hat.

I look like Will Ferrel in Elf but feel like Jim Carey in The Grinch. I look ridiculous and feel even sillier, but Angelica continues to beam at me.

“You might be the sexiest elf I’ve ever seen.”

Well, fuck.

And she’s the sexiest elf I’ve ever seen. Who knew a pink, felt dress with candy cane striped stockings and an elf cap could be such a turn on? Some role-playing might be in our future.

Taking the stack of presents Angelica hands me, I follow her as she follows Santa Ed. We enter room after room where Ed or Angelica know each child by name, like they actually work for the North Pole.

I’d only allotted an hour, but ninety minutes in, I don’t have the heart to leave. These kids are incredible. So small in such big hospital beds, and yet happiness is bigger than the entire building. The smiles on their faces are miles wide, and their laughter is nearly contagious.

On top of it all is watching Angelica interact with them. She’s so good, taking a few minutes to chat or tease a child. Offering a hug where it’s permissible or blowing a kiss like she’s an elf queen where it’s not. The kids adore her.

I adore her.

And I’m grateful I’ve stayed when the last hospital room becomes a challenge.

The girl sitting up in the hospital bed stares suspiciously at Ed. From the expression on her face, it’s evident she doesn’t believe Ed is Santa. Her blue eyes are almost too wide, and her cheeks are rosy. She doesn’t have a single strand of hair on her head. She looks rather young, and a nurse is present but not a parent.

“Ho, ho, ho,” Ed begins, but the girl crosses her arms and falls back against the raised bed.

“Save it, Santa.”

“Oh, ho, ho,” Ed chuckles. “Don’t tell me we have a little grinch on our hands?”

“I’m not a grinch,” she counters, but with her arms crossed and a pout prevalent, she’s definitely looking like a familiar green character.

I glance at the nurse, who stands close to the side of the bed. “Lulu, you promised. No sass today.”

“And Mommy promised she’d be here, but she isn’t.” The little girl doesn’t bat an eye as she makes her argument, but her lower lip trembles.

The entire point of The Giving Tree is to provide a gift for a child who is hospital-bound, but a hospital-bound child without a parent is a whole other level of heartache. And I don’t expect the pinch in my chest. The one relating to this lonely girl.

“What’s with the lip, sassy pants?” I tease.

“Jude,” Ed admonishes while Angelica gasps.

“Your name is Jude. What kind of name is Jude for an elf?”

“A cool name for the coolest elf in all of North Pole land.” The statement is stilted, making me sound uncool, but the comment does the trick.

“Sounds dumb.”