Page 306 of Seasons of Love
“Bubble, are you okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t—”
Suddenly the front door to the cabin opens with a thud and the blondest child with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen runs inside.
He stares at me and gasps.
“Are you our Christmas elf?”
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The kid’s face is comical. He looks around the cabin, and with each thing his little blue eyes focus on, there’s a new gasp of wonder.
A moment later, a little girl comes running in and almost bumps into the boy.
“Look, Megan, we have a Christmas elf,” the kid says.
The girl gets closer to the boy and says in a hushed tone, “Are you sure he’s not a stranger?”
“No, you silly. Look, he’s small, wearing Christmas trees, and there’s Christmas decorations everywhere.”
“Oh yeah,” the girl says, looking around the cabin and then turning to Bubble. “Do we need to go outside so you can finish your elf job? It’s a little cold, but we can wait. Will we get in trouble with Santa?”
She holds the boy’s hand and pulls him toward the door, but the boy doesn’t budge.
Bubble looks up at the ceiling and mumbles something I can’t make out before looking back at the kids.
“Sorry, kids…I’m not an elf. Also, not small,” he says, going around the kitchen island with his hands on his hips, sounding quite indignant. “I’m perfectly formed, thank you very much.”
I almost snort-laugh at his comment.
“Holy snakes, even his pants are pink,” the girl says.
“They’re awesome, right?” Bubble says, twirling on the spot. “Anyway, I’m Bubble. Who are you?”
“I’m George, but you can call me Gigi, and this is my sister, Megan.”
I’m pretty sure I’m the only one in the room finding this situation a little…strange.
Bubble smiles and crouches to their level. “Are you twins?”
“No, silly. We’re not really brother and sister yet. Our dads are getting married in the spring,” the girl says like that explains everything.
“And where are your dads…?” Bubble starts.
“Don’t worry. We can distract them,” George says.
“Or maybe they can’t see you because they’re grownups, right?” Megan adds. “Only children can see you.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, they’re all kissy, kissy anyway, so you can finish deco—” George stops and looks at me. “Who’s he? Is that your boss? He doesn’t look like an elf.”
Megan gasps. “Is that…Santa?” And then she hushes again. “Is he supervising you to make sure you do a good job? Are you going to get a promotion? My daddy got a promotion at work.”
“Your dad works for Santa?” Bubble asks, and I groan.
“Curtis, has it occurred to you to question who these children are, where they came from, and how they got through the door?”
