Page 51

She’s standing in the doorway with both hands pressed over her mouth.

“Something funny?”

She shakes her head, her eyes watering.

“Take it out.”

Her hands fall. “Take what out?”

“The elf.”

“You want me to remove Mr. Jingles from your office? But he likes it in here.”

“He’s an elf.”

“Wow,” she says.

“What?”

“That’s incredibly judgmental.”

I look at Shiloh. He nods solemnly.

Traitor.

“Mr. Jingles watches us,” he explains.

This isn’t helping my case.

“He tells Santa if I’m good.”

Noelle comes further into the room. She stops beside Shiloh and rests her hand on top of his head without seeming to think about it. He leans into her. Neither of them seems to notice.

But I notice.

“He moves every night.”

I look at her. “He what?”

“He moves.”

“On his own?”

Her mouth twitches. “Christmas magic.” Over Shiloh’s head, she widens her eyes at me. A very clear, very pointed look. Play along, it says.

I’ve been a parent for four years. I know that look. I’ve just never had anyone aim it at me before.

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t worry. He doesn’t bite.”

“Good to know.”

“He might go through your desk,” she says, impishly.

“Noelle.”

She laughs.