Page 3 of Naughty Elf: Wink
I glanced at the clock, but it was only ten. “You’re early,” I said.
“No, we’re right on time. We’re two hours ahead of you,” my mom reminded me.
My dad tilted the phone his way so he could add, “We wanted to be the first to wish you merry Christmas, Son. We really are sorry we couldn’t be there to celebrate with you.”
“And I told you it was fine,” I insisted. “It’s going to be really low-key this year. I’m just baking some cookies for the neighbors, and after I drop those off tomorrow, I plan on watching some movies. It’ll be nice.” Did my smile look as strained as it felt?
“But what about dinner?” my mom said, frowning. “Are you making a turkey?”
“There’s no point in cooking a whole turkey for only me. I’ll just pull something out of the freezer. It’ll be okay.”
“But maybe you could invite someone over to eat with you,” she continued, nudging the phone away from Dad. “What about Leander? What’s he doing for the holidays?”
Leander was my best friend. All through school growing up, I was just different enough that nobody clicked. Anyone would click with Leander, though, because he didn’t give you a choice over the matter. He was a force of nature. He was the kind of person who would break down every wall you tried to protect yourself with. Besides Leander, I didn’t have a lot of friends. I mean, everyone was outwardly nice,because small-town manners wouldn’t allow for anything less, but I wasn’t really close with anyone else. That’s what happened when you were too tired to go out with them when they bothered to invite you.
“He’s spending Christmas with his boyfriend. Seriously, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine!” How many times could I say that? At some point, would I start to mean it?
“But, honey—” She wasn’t ready to let this go, but luckily, I interrupted her with a giant yawn, and it wasn’t even fake. “Oh, sweetie, you’re tired. We should let you get to bed.”
I was grateful to say our farewells, with a promise to talk again tomorrow. I was far too exhausted to handle one of my mom’s award-winning pressure sessions right now. As soon as I turned 25, she got it in her head that my life was passing me by, and I should hurry up and settle down already and give her some grandbabies. She meant well, but I didn’t want to date just for the sake of dating. That was a sure way to get my heart broken.
Love would happen when it was meant to, I was sure of it.
My parents were the perfect example of that. Twenty years ago, they met by total chance, when they were both flying home from separate trips and a snowstorm hit, and both their flights were cancelled. They never would’ve met if it weren’t for that storm. And then because they hadn’t been able to have children of their own, they’d adopted me. Another example of the way life could turn out so perfectly according to fate’s design.
My bed was calling me, so I finished off icing the cookies. I was so exhausted that my snowflakes were wobbly and one of my Santas looked more like a clown. I gave myself permission to eat that one.
The Christmas playlist had ended, and a gentle silence descended over my tiny home. I sighed, licking a few crumbs off my lips, letting the sweet, buttery deliciousness melt on my tongue. I really did need toget to bed. I was always so tired. It wasn’t that I wasn’t getting enough sleep, because I made sure to get a full eight hours, and I slept like the dead, with no memory of tossing or turning at all, though I always seemed to kick off all my clothes as if I were overheating. Maybe it would be better if I just went to sleep naked.
Before the fatigue could drag me down, I grabbed a plate from the cupboard and set a few of the prettiest cookies on it, then poured a glass of milk. I put them all on the coffee table, smiling. I was forgetting something… Oh! Rudolph! I went back to the fridge and came back with a carrot, setting it beside the plate.
Was it silly and juvenile to leave cookies and milk out for Santa? Probably, but it was tradition, and I wasn’t about to skip it just because my parents weren’t here to eat them after I went to bed, pretending it was the jolly man himself who’d done it.
Smiling sadly, I paused beside my spindly Christmas tree and looked out the window at the cozy neighborhood, blanketed in a fresh layer of sparkly snow. I loved Christmas. I loved cookies and snow and twinkly lights… but it would all be so much better if I had someone to share it with.
Maybe my mom was right. Maybe it was time to stop waiting for love to find me.
A light breeze blew through the room, almost like someone had opened a window, and a tingling sensation had goosebumps marching across my body. Just as quickly, it stopped. I turned and looked around, but there was nothing there.
Huh, that was weird. I must’ve been more tired than I thought.
"C'mon, Chewy, time for bed," I called, and the tabby got up off the couch and stretched. He paused a moment, glancing at the tree, before following me down the hall.
I did my best to ignore the feeling that I was being watched. What I needed was a good night’s sleep, and I knew everything would look better through Christmas-colored glasses.
3
Wink
As disorienting as it was to suddenly discover that I’d been turned into a Christmas tree ornament, I was nothing if not adaptable. I mean, I’d been shuffled between various jobs for as long as I could remember, always learning something new. And this? Nothing to do but dangle? There really wasn’t much to it.
And I quickly decided it wasn’t such a bad gig. It could certainly be worse.
No work, no tightly wound boss, no getting scolded, and all the peace and quiet an elf could ask for. I was finally being left alone. It was almost like retirement! And even better, I’d ended up in the home of an omega who perfectly fit the description of eye candy. I might not have been a fan of gummies or chocolate, but he was just the right amount of sweet for me. He had hazel eyes that seemed to look greener when he turned to glance my way, and dark brown hair that flopped adorably across his forehead every time he dipped his chin.
The room was filled with the most delicious scents—pine sap, cinnamon and nutmeg, and the man himself who I swore smelled like honey. I watched with longing as he prepared a plate of cookies then turned toward the hallway, calling for someone named Chewy. Was he already mated?
A gray tabby cat got up off the couch and gave a languid stretch, before turning toward the tree, and I swore his eyes locked straight on me, narrowing in suspicion. Animals had an uncanny ability to pick up on things humans couldn’t see—could this Chewy see me?