Santa’s Hidden Grief

Santa Claus stared down at the photo of a little girl while he sat in this sleigh. His reindeer were preparing eagerly for their Christmas Eve travels.  Santa’s crystal blue eyes traced the delicate features of the girl, who had long platinum hair and silver eyes. A long-tired sigh escaped from him.

“We are ready to go, Santa,” Rudolph announced.

Santa was so distracted by the snapshot that he hadn’t heard Rudolph coming up beside him.

“Santa?”  Rudolph yelled.

Santa jolted so abruptly that he lost his grip on the portrait, and it flew in the North Pole wind, twirling and swirling until it finally flung down at Mrs. Claus's boots.

Mrs. Claus, a charming older woman with silver-white hair wrapped in a red velvet coat, was holding a bag of freshly baked cookies and a thermos of hot cocoa and glanced down at the print lying in the snow.

Mrs. Claus's rosy, pink cheeks and the merry smile faded when she saw the image of the little girl smiling up at her.

Santa closed his eyes, pain etched into his deep wrinkles, he bowed his head. Rudolph had just witnessed what had happened, quietly summoned the other reindeers and gathered them to a clearing just off to the side.

Santa could hear his trusted red-nose reindeer whisper, "Let's give them some privacy." Leave it to his best friend to always have his back.

Mrs. Claus slowly bent down to retrieve the photo. The little girl must have been six years old when this was taken, Mrs. Claus guessed. As Mrs. Claus studied the colorful capture, her warm cornflower eyes turned dark. She walked over to Santa, who sat shock still in the decorated wooden sleigh.

Silently descended on the North Pole like a weighted blanket settling one's nerves. The woodland creatures, the elves, and the reindeers stared at the couple, who were famous for being merry and happy 365 days a year.

EVERY YEAR.

Mrs. Claus clutched at the photo as she dropped the cookie bag and thermos onto the back seat. After a moment, Santa gradually lifted his head and looked at her. Time stood as still as a deer caught in a hunter's sight.

"I thought we agreed that you would destroy all her memories?" Mrs. Claus glacier voice stated.

"I never agreed to that. I said we would never speak of her. That bargain was kept until now." Santa maintained a blank expression.

Mrs. Claus's jaw clenched, "You knew the deal."

Santa snatched the photo from Mrs. Claus and carefully placed it in one of the hidden pockets of his warm velvet coat.

"It's getting late, and I don't want to run into any children while I am making my deliveries," Santa stated as he checked his GPS and other gauges.

Mrs. Claus began to tremble with rage, "We are to pretend to the world that we are a happy couple, our business, your legacy counts on this!"

Santa gestured to Rudolph to resume getting the sleigh ready for Christmas Eve.

Santa’s tired eyes met his wife’s, “It will not happen again. I am sorry you saw the photo. I know that it caused you great pain.”

Mrs. Claus's quickly averted her eyes. "It better not. Why can't you just get rid of that picture and any other ones you may have? She is not in our lives; she doesn't matter."

Santa's sharp gaze locked with his wife's. His cherry red cheeks molted to a dark crimson. He leaned very close to her.

"Don't say it. Let it go." Santa warmed.

"That bitch and her daughter were a mistake!" Mrs. Claus hollered.

Just then, the dark midnight sky with a parade of shimmering stars winked out. A frostbite grey slithered in its place. The temperature dropped to a sharp, biting cold. Angry winds carried razor-like hail.

Screams echoed through the North Pole as the Elves and woodland creatures ran for cover. Mrs. Claus threw up her fur-lined hood to protect herself.

"Damn it, woman, we've pissed her off now. The Ice Queen will make it ten times harder to deliver all the gifts." Santa bellowed.

As Santa hastily busied himself in the sleigh, Rudolph and the reindeers clutched themselves up. As Santa turned his sleigh to the take off field, he took one last look at this wife.

"My one night with the Ice Queen produced a daughter. I will only ever know her through pictures. DEAL WITH IT!" Santa yelled.

And with that, Santa and his sleigh took off into the ice-stormy Christmas night.

Merry Christmas!