The sense or urgency wasn’t exactly as as intent as he put it, Christmas just happened to always be a priority. It was still three days away, enough for red and green lights to be strung out, hundreds of dollars blown on inflating miniature versions of all the reindeer, and streets lines with jolly cardboard cutouts. Only most of the western countries of course, it wasn’t every single child that he had to make preparations for, but it was still a handful. Between all the elven workforce and the machinery, they were well on track to getting it done. Something dramatic always popped up last moment, but it would be more devastating if the children never got their presents. As last-minute as stories made the journey to be, they never failed once to deliver.
This year should have been the same. Santa wasn’t exactly on track with his child arriving this late, but it still meant business as usual. Perhaps a little more time to sooth the misses.
“We’re still operating on time, sir,” the assistant elf reported, “Production lines are on track, however we do need you to cover a few last minute changes. Some of the younger children have changed their minds about the gifts they were originally going to receive.”
Santa sighed as he waddled toward his dresser. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Very good sir,” was the chipper reply, “and if you wanted to know, Ms Clause is in the kitchen.”
Santa halted for a moment, then resumed pulling open the drawer. Elf number one was practically his secretary at this point, and for good reason. Whether the point was made for the chance to confront Ms Claus or avoid her, it was in good regards that he hardly needed to ask. The elf, sensing this, tucked the clipboard under their arm and spun for the exit.
Part of the truth was the fact that Santa didn’t feel ready, even ironically as one of the oldest beings alive. Making his presents was the joy of his life, and watching the reaction of these children was enough to warm a million hearts each year. He never considered having kids because to him, it was great enough to be a guardian of dreams, weaving wishes into reality. Ms Claus failing pregnant had to be a sign of sorts since their attempts never seemed to work before, not that he was ever much inclined. Maybe this child of theirs was an opportunity for her, having someone to truly raise on their own and not watch through a magic mirror each morning for gift ideas.
He pulled on work clothing, a simple apron with pockets for tools, grabbing gloves along the way. Carving wooden toys himself never failed to calm turbulent thoughts just as the heart of the workshop was made his sanctuary. It wouldn’t be too late to stop by the kitchen for a talk along the way, but with the conversation on the line, it could last hours before they even reached a proper conclusion. Maybe Ms Claus would find him in the workshop, but the cons of that situation was claiming that he was avoiding her- which he was doing. There was just no easy way to do this in the end.
The elves seemed to notice his mood because many of them cleared a wide space as they passed by, or casted worried glances.
One toy, he decided, one moment to really go all out in carving some child’s creation before he started on that complicated confrontation.
