Page 11 of Santa’s Lawyer

“Santa’s lawyer,” Avery finished for him.

Louis looked at her with an expression somewhere between amusement and confusion. “Santa Claus is real,” he insisted with grave seriousness.

“Yes, and,” she said, inviting him to continue.

“Erm, yes, well,” he said. “And—some people might find that hard to believe.”

She shrugged. “I’ve always believed in Santa.”

Outside the library window, bells on bobtails rang.

“Right,” he said. “Right, of course you have. So, you’re…alright?”

“Are you asking me if I’m going to go into some sort of panic spiral because you revealed the existence of Santa Claus?” she asked.

He chuckled. “I’m realizing that’s not really your style, is it, Avery?”

“No, it’s not, Louis,” she said, leaning in a little closer.

He glanced briefly at her mouth before clearing his throat. “Okay then, grab your pen from your pocket,” he instructed.

She sat up and pulled the pen out of her front pocket by the feather and held it at the ready.

“Write your name,” Louis said.

She glanced around. “I have nothing to write on.”

“Hmm,” he said. “May I?”

He reached for the pen as she extended it toward him, their fingers brushing as he took it from her hand.

Avery looked down and found a faint sparkle radiating from her skin where they touched. It grew, pulsing and glittering, sending a zap of giddiness straight to her chest.

She looked from her sparkling hand up to Louis for an explanation.

He quickly turned away, cheeks pink.

Louis brandished the pen, waving it in the air beside them, as if writing on an invisible chalkboard in front of the couch. Glowing golden trails of letters hung in the air like neon. He wrote:

A VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS

She stared, entranced by the words floating and gently bobbing in the air before her. He then added a comma and used the pen to gently nudge the “A” right next to “VERY.” Now it read:

AVERY, HAPPY CHRISTMAS

He circled the words, dragged the circle with the pen, and sent it swirling around her head before it came to rest on the curved mantle above the fireplace.

“This is a magic pen, which should help you in your studies. Magic—” Louis explained, sliding the pen back into her breast pocket, “—is real.”

“Wow,” she said.

He puffed his chest out a bit.

“I mean, that’s beautiful,” Avery said. “But I sort of figured magic was real when I met the talking polar bear. Plus, I mean, if Santa is real, magic would have to be real by extension, right?”

“Huh,” Louis pondered. “Perhaps this process will be easier than I thought.”

“I think you’ll find I’m,” she scooched closer to him until they were sharing a cushion, “very adaptable.”