“I hope he wants something else. I’m considering my options. Like giving him a toy dog. Or making a donation in his name to the animal shelter.”

“Dude.”

“What?”

“Do you know how lame that sounds? A dog is a dog. Not a toy. Not a donation.” She indicated the noisy mess in the parking lot as the PAWS volunteers loaded up the animals to take back to the shelter.

He nodded. “I know you’re right. Maybe in the summer, then.”

“Does Santa give rain checks for summer?”

He laughed. “You’re harsh.”

“Being the youngest of five, I learned to play hardball at Christmas at an early age.”

“I’ve got a week to figure this out.”

She wondered if she should tell him about the Santa trap. Charlie and André were right on the cusp of disbelief. One wrong move, and the myth would be busted.

“Good news,” Adam reported, now in his street clothes. “I pried the truth out of Charlie—his Christmas wish. I got him to sing like a canary.”

“Yeah?” Logan grinned. “Good work. So, what am I in for?”

“A new snowboard. The kind with flames painted on the bottom. Boots, too.”

“Excellent. Much easier than a live animal. I can make that happen.”

Darcy felt a twinge of suspicion. That was just too easy. She thought about the conversation she’d overheard between the boys. “What about André?”

Adam shook his head. “That kid’s tough as a Kevlar vest. He wouldn’t talk. You’ll have to figure it out another way.”

“Okay,” said Logan. “I’m on it.”

Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “See you around, buddy. And Darcy.”

After he’d gone, Darcy pondered about whether or not to disclose her suspicions. Not now, she decided. “Can I tell you a secret?” she asked.

“What’s that?”

“I still believe in Santa Claus.”

“You probably just like sitting in guys’ laps.”

“Depends on the guy. Depends on the lap. And how do you know what I like? You don’t even know me.”

“Then maybe we should work on that some more.” He lowered his voice and leaned down toward her. “I know you like kissing me.”

“You do, do you?” Kiss me now, she thought crazily. Kiss me now.

“Yeah, so—sorry, I need to...” He didn’t finish, but sprinted across the road toward a tall pile of packed snow. Charlie, André and some other kids were playing on a Bobcat snow mover, which looked like a toy version of a snowplow. The equipment was clearly marked “keep off,” but the kids were either blind to that or just ignoring it.

“Hey,” Logan called. “Get down off that Bobcat.”

“It’s cool, Dad,” said Charlie. “Check it out.”

André was working the levers and making motor sounds with his mouth.

“Damn it, Charlie. It’s a week before Christmas. Shouldn’t you be on your best behavior?”