“Have you seen the elves?” she asked, her voice an octave higher than its normal pitch.
“Uh, I just got here,” Emily reminded her.
“They’re missing.” Mrs. Meriwether glanced around frantically. “They were supposed to come in an hour ago, and it’s mayhem around here!”
Then she scuttled off, muttering to herself. Emily pulled on her Santa gear, wondering if the elves were bagging work because of Cassie’s party last night.
In minutes, she was on the Santa throne. A familiar girl with brown pigtails strutted up first and plopped herself on Emily’s lap. Her father, a broad man with a crew cut and wearing a police uniform, appeared beside her. Emily stared at his shiny badge. O’NEAL. This was the girl who asked for every gift in the world.
“Tina liked you so much that she wanted to pay another visit, Santa.” Officer O’Neal gave Emily a wink. His badge gleamed under the hot photography lights.
“I wanted to add some things to my list,” Tina boasted.
She started listing off items on her fingers. Her new requests included the Barbie Townhouse, the Barbie Vacation Jet, and the Barbie Limited Edition Snow Princess. Emily wasn’t sure a girl Tina’s age should even know the term Limited Edition. “Don’t you think that’s enough?” Emily said after Tina had named about twenty items. “Santa has to make space in his bag for toys for everyone else in the world, too.”
Tina stuck out her bottom lip. “Daddy said Santa would bring me everything.”
Emily cast a wary glance at Officer O’Neal, but he just shrugged sheepishly. “She’s been a very good girl this year.”
Kids continued to move through the line. One spilled a strawberry smoothie in Emily’s lap and another burst into tears. Just as a girl presented Emily with a thick letter in an envelope that said To Santa in shaky writing on the front, Emily finally caught sight of Cassie, Lola, Heather, and Sophie trudging down the corridor. Their elf hats were askew. Their bodysuits sagged. Cassie and Sophie hadn’t bothered to put on their pointy shoes, wearing sneakers instead. Even from far away, it looked like they were nursing massive hangovers. Emily wondered how late they’d stayed up partying after she’d been shut out.
The performing magician handed Cassie a balloon flower. “You girls look like you could use a pick-me-up,” he said to the elves, pushing a balloon toward each of them.
“Fuck off,” Cassie deadpanned. Lola knocked the magician’s hat off his head. He slunk back to his stool.
Mrs. Meriwether hurried toward the elves. “Where have you girls been?” Her face was bright red, and her hands made tight fists. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”
The elves just stared at her, seemingly too exhausted to retort.
Mrs. Meriwether raised a hand. “I want you four to clean up the inside of the gingerbread house.” She pointed toward it. “A child just vomited in there. And the bathroom toilet is filthy.”
The elves opened their mouths to protest, but Mrs. Meriwether stamped her foot. “Do it,” she said through her teeth. Even Heather cowered back.
Grumbling, the elves stomped toward the gingerbread house. “What I wouldn’t give to not be working today,” Cassie growled under her breath.
“Let’s hope an asteroid hits the mall,” Lola agreed.
“Or at least Santa Land,” Sophie said.
“Can you bring us that for Christmas, Santa?” Heather eyed Emily, acknowledging her for the first time all day.
Emily scratched absently at the red bumps on her arm, her head swirling. Win them over, she heard her mother’s voice say. Do whatever it takes. She stared at the rash on her arm, a thought congealing in her mind.
Placing the SANTA’S GONE TO FEED THE REINDEER sign on the throne, she padded down the candy cane carpet and tapped Mrs. Meriwether, who was puzzling over receipts by the register, on the shoulder. She whipped around and gave Emily a withering stare. “Don’t tell me you’re going to give me trouble now, too.”
“No trouble here,” Emily said. “But I did want to tell you that I just found a bug in my beard.”
Mrs. Meriwether’s eyebrows furrowed. “Let’s see.”
Emily pretended to parse through the silky hair on her chin. “I guess it crawled away.”
“What did it look like?”
Emily pretended to think, then described the ticklike creature she’d read about in the newspaper a few weeks ago. “It was kind of reddish-brown? Oval-shaped? It kind of looked like a beetle, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t.”
The color drained from Mrs. Meriwether’s face. “Good Lord. That sounds like a bedbug.”
Bingo. Emily was glad she’d gotten the description right—a department store in Philly had to be fumigated for the creatures, and there was a huge news story about it. She feigned surprise. “You think? Aren’t they, like, impossible to get rid of?”
“Have you taken the Santa suit out of the mall?” Mrs. Meriwether looked furious. “Have you been anywhere that might contain bedbugs?”
“Of course not.” Emily crossed her arms over her chest. “I leave the Santa suit here every night. But now that you mention it, I did notice these.” She rolled up her sleeves to reveal the little red bumps on the insides of her arms. They looked exactly like the bedbug bites a department store worker had shown to a news reporter on TV.
A disgusted gurgle emerged from the back of Mrs. Meriwether’s throat. “Oh good heavens.” She gripped her head. “There are bedbugs at Santa Land! There are bedbugs in the mall!”