Page 31 of The Christmas Mistake

And I am loving watching him hate it.

Take that, dickface. That’s for laughing at me.

A few hours in and the both of us have developed a fast routine. We need to get through children at a quick turnover, but Nicholas and I have made a shorthand to speed up the process. I say exactly the right things to the parents as I guide the kid to Santa’s knee, and then it’s up to Nicholas to repeat a few phrases he’s memorized to get the most out of the child.

Have you been a good boy this year?

And what do you want for Christmas, little girl?

Let me see what my elves and I can do about that.

Boom. Easy. Kids are streaming in and out and we are getting the photos for the parents to buy. Annie is gonna be so pleased with us when she sees we’ve met her quotas. We must be better than the professional actors they hire every year.

And that’s when little James appears and changes our entire day.

He’s come along with his two parents just like any other kid. All perfectly normal. He goes straight to Nicholas and immediately starts whispering into his ear like he’s on a mission. I watch, curious, as Nicholas leans down to hear better. Whatever James is telling to Santa is certainly serious. Nicholas’ face is ashen as he takes in the child’s words.

James looks like he’s on the very verge of crying.

And Nicholas himself is listening differently than he had with other kids. He nods along and frowns. No repeating phrases this time.

I wonder what the little boy is telling him to make him act like this.

His parents seem to notice. They turn to me, avoiding eye contact as if they’re nervous.

Like their son, they also look like they’re about to cry.

The mother is the only one who talks.

“James’ older brother… our son… passed away two months ago,” she tells me quietly. “James and him were very close. They had so many plans for this Christmas, so many. It was meant to be his last, that’s what the doctors told us, so we planned this Christmas to be extra special for them both. We all thought he had longer, but the cancer was too strong. He… left… earlier than we expected. James has been devastated ever since. He’s barely spoken a word. Until today with Santa.”

And now I want to cry.

“I’m so sorry,” I say to the mother. She bows her head. I don’t know if I should reach out and touch her assuringly. I didn’t even know this family two minutes ago and now they’ve shared with me their worst tragedy.

I look at James telling Santa what he wants for Christmas with the most earnest expression on his little face. No child should ever experience the amount of pain and grief that boy has gone through these last few months. He’s so strong.

“We don’t even know what he wants for Christmas,” the mother continues, nodding at James still in deep conversation with Nicholas. “He doesn’t want to tell us at all. Whatever it is, we’ll get it for him. We want to make him happy, but we know nothing can replace what he had with his older brother.”

“No,” I reply. “That’s for sure. Nothing could ever replace that.”

James stops talking to Nicholas and then gives him a strong little hug. Nicholas looks startled. A lot of kids have given Santa a hug today, but James’ one hits differently. I can tell.

“Shall I take a photo of Santa and James?” I ask the parents. They affirm.

When they finally take James by the hand and go, I realize I’ve been holding in my breath the entire time. I let it out and allow myself to breathe again.

Santa sits there, motionless.

I turn around and tell the next family to wait one moment. I dash over to Nicholas.

“How’s it going?” I ask him.

“Yeah. Good.”

He seems subdued. James must’ve really affected him.

“I saw you two were in a very deep conversation. What did James want for Christmas?”