Deck The Halls With Brand New Stories: Ho Ho Holiday Anthology

Dear Santa

She glanced at the familiar Letters to Santa box and stopped in her tracks.

No way.

No. Freaking. Way.

An envelope was taped to the front of the box. An envelope that was never there before. Printed in neat block letters... was her name.

She blinked several times and looked again. LEONA. Yup, it was her name all right.

Or maybe it was for someone else named Leona. Yeah, that must be it.

Who was she kidding? This couldn't possibly be coincidence. The accountants were ordering her to stop being creepy and leave the letter-writing to kids. They wanted to tell her off, but didn't have her address, thank goodness.

She stared at the envelope, unable to make her hands move. It certainly was a clever idea to stick the letter where she was likely to see it. Why couldn't they just let it be? Throw away her dumb confessions like she'd expected them to? Why did someone choose now not to ignore her?

She wanted to keep walking. To keep pretending like she hadn't lost her mind the other day. But her feet wouldn't move either. Great, her hands were frozen, and now her feet as well.

Leona chewed on her lip, debating. She didn't know why, though. She had to see what someone thought was important enough to write to her about, right?

Her eyes darted around to make sure no one was watching, then she snatched the envelope and hurried away.

Once she reached the cozy warmth of her office—and once her fingers had thawed enough to function—she opened the envelope and began reading the letter inside.

Dear Leona,

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope this letter finds you at all, actually. Considering you didn't leave a return address, this was the only way I could think of to reach you. I hope you don't mind.

I just wanted to let you know that I hear you. Epiphanies about our sexuality are never easy, and you should know that you aren't alone. And you aren't doomed either. You'll find your way, just like I found mine. Just take things day by day. And use support groups! You can find many online if you want to stay anonymous. Join a few, and you'll discover how not-alone you really are.

In case you haven't gathered, I'm not really Santa Claus. Consider me a helper elf. The big man has had to outsource his work over the years, and I was lucky enough to get this job. You sound like a person I could be friends with. An elf could always use more friends. It can get lonely in a workroom full of nothing but industrious elves.

Ever get coffee at the corner shop? You know, the one with all the pastries dipped in chocolate beckoning from the window? I highly recommend it.

Yours,

Helper Elf

Leona read the letter three more times, still not quite believing the response she'd gotten. This helper elf person was so nice. Maybe she was reading too much into it, but this person seemed to get her. Had understood the weird way Leona had reached out from her loneliness. Had actually reached back to touch her through a letter.

You'll find your way, just like I found mine. Her helper elf had to be another lesbian, right? Or, she supposed, it could be a gay man. Or just some compassionate person who found their way, whatever way that was. Either way, it was kind, and Leona was grateful for it.

She pondered that last paragraph, though. Was Helper Elf inviting her to coffee?

She shook her head. No, of course not, that would be far-fetched. Why would a total stranger want to meet a desperate spinster anywhere?