Page 34 of Santa’s Lawyer

Avery’s mind was reeling. “If she didn’t remember, why did she bring me to see you?”

“I don’t know,” Santa said, shaking his head. “I never knew how it happened.”

“As long as we’re, erm, telling the truth,” Tilly said, hesitation in her voice.

“Right. Might o’ tipped the scales a bit on that one, guv'nor,” Gregory admitted, smacking Ander with his fin.

“Oh dear,” Ander said.

“What are you lot going on about?” Louis asked.

“We—well, we remembered how much she loved candles,” Tilly began. “We didn’t think there was any harm in mailing her a few coupons. Free candles if you bring your kid to get your photo taken with Santa? That sort of thing?”

Santa put a hand to his heart. “Tilly,” was all he could manage.

Avery took his other hand. Santa turned to her; his eyes full of hope.

“One day, I saw her there in line. With you in her arms. I thought it was a miracle. I got to see her, and hold you, and—”

Avery practically tackled Santa into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her as she sobbed into his velvet jacket—the one she had been wearing only a few days before.

“I thought seeing you both once a year was all I’d ever get, if I was lucky,” he said, holding her tight. “But then I got to know you and watched you grow and realized just how much like your grandmother and mother you were. Are. When I saw you last week, when you said you were ready for a change, when I felt the depth of your loss, I—oh, Avery, I hope I haven’t caused you any harm.”

Avery pulled back and wiped her face.

“Harm?” She shook her head, tears falling freely. “You gave me my family back,” she said. “I am just devastated. For you. That you couldn’t—”

“I was lucky to have her for as long as I did,” Santa said in a way that made Avery think he’d said it to himself a million times. “Some of the most precious gifts are fleeting.”

He seemed to have found some peace with his loss, which Avery did not wish to disturb. So she did not venture a guess aloud as to why her mother, on her deathbed, made Avery promise to go see Santa one last time.

A heavy quiet returned to the circle until an elf came by with a fresh tray of sparkling golden drinks.

“Just what the doctor ordered,” Gregory pronounced, as they all grabbed a glass.

“To Jane,” Stephen offered, toasting.

“To Betty,” Tilly, Ander, and Gregory said together.

“To the Hoarfrost family,” Louis said softly.

Their words spread like a balm across Avery’s heart, filling in the gaps and cracks left behind by grief. The Christmas spirit that flowed through the veins of her grandmother and mother—the secret behind the warmth and joy she once thought was buried with them—it was alive and well, humming and dancing inside her.

She looked around at her companions, at her father. She felt the steady warmth of Louis’ hand behind her, and for the first time since burying her mother, she felt like she was home.

They raised their glasses and drank.

Avery took a quiet sip. She was drinking that golden, sparkling, diluted concoction of Christmas Magic that Louis had described. Instantly, she felt lighter.

“Does that make me a Claus?” She asked Santa with a small smile.

“You get to be whatever you want to be,” Santa said. “And you don’t have to decide tonight. You and I have a lot of catching up to do. And you deserve a little break, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I think I do,” Avery laughed, wiping the remaining tears off her face.

“In that case,” Santa said, slapping his palms on his legs and standing up, bidding everyone to do the same, “I think it’s time we enjoy the party.”

Louis dematerialized the living room set, the group disbanded, and he grabbed Avery’s hand, pulling her away from the crowd.