Page 14 of Naughty Elf: Aster

I flipped the pancakes off onto the platter beside me so they wouldn’t burn and squatted down to be eye level with Noel. “I’m Aster.”

He hugged me close. “I knew you were ours!”

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”

There was a whole conversation that would have to be had around that, but kids being made of awesome, Noel accepted my comment for what it was and moved on to more important matter: breakfast.

“Do I smell pancakes?”

“You sure do.” I stood back up again and poured some more on the griddle. “If we sit down, I’ll serve you and your dad while the rest of these cook.”

He ran to the table. Wolfe was standing in the doorway, watching, a huge smile on his face. As I went to the table, so did he, and I dished them both up plates of pancakes, their choice of cookie design.

“Daddy, you didn’t tell me the statue woke up!”

Woke up. That was an interesting term, one I wouldn’t have thought of, but I guess, in a way, it was accurate.

“Something like that.” Wolfe ruffled his son’s hair. “Don’t let your cookies get cold.” Wolfe turned to me as if the cookie part of things just registered. “Did you just serve us cookies for breakfast?”

Which wasn’t him saying, “No, we can’t be eating these,” but also, he wasn’t being too impressed.

“No.” I rolled my eyes. “Taste them.”

Wolfe put butter on his, and Noel had a little dish of syrup to dip his in on his plate. His father had already started slicing the pancakes into strips. I filed that away as something I could do for him next time.

If there was a next time.

There would be a next time.

Yes. A next time was on the horizon.

“They taste just like pancakes.” Noel bit off another mouthful. “Really, really, really, really good pancakes.”

“No, these are not just pancakes.” His father beamed up at me. “These are Christmas magic cakes.”

He probably didn’t know how accurate he was.

The two of them ate as I finished up the final batch, using what was left of the magic to get them done quickly so I could join them. It had probably been enough magic that I could’ve gotten home, and maybe that was why it came back. It was my exit ticket.

But this was better—seeing the smile on Noel’s face when he saw I made him cookies for breakfast, and the smile on Wolfe’s face when I made him cookies for breakfast. The smiles were very much not the same, and I was going to cherish the memory of them both.

Yeah, this—all of this—was worth sticking around. I refused to regret using what magic I had on it. There would be other opportunities to get home…if that was my goal.

Was it my goal?

I sat down with them and got myself situated while they grabbed seconds.

“So, Aster, are you gonna be a statue again? I mean, you were cute, but I think I like you like this better.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, I think I’m still adorable, but that aside, I hope I don’t have to go back again. I think I’m just gonna stay like this. And who knows, maybe after it stops snowing, we can play outside. I love the snow.”

Noel gasped then started talking all about the things he wanted to do in the snow, which was perfect because I didn’t want to talk about my ex-statue self. I still didn’t quite understand all the nuances of my situation—how long I was here, what I had to accomplish while I was here, and prettymuch everything Santa told me about the rules. But I didn’t feel in a rush to figure it out because these moments here, with the two of them and an adorable kitten sleeping in the sun, they made everything worth it.

“How did you make the pancakes taste like pancakes but look like cookies?”

I looked to Wolfe, and he gave me a nod. I wasn’t going to share more than he wanted me to. It wasn’t my place.

“That’s because I am Santa’s head baker.”