Dear Santa

5. Leona

Leona slid her eyes to the beautiful woman sitting next to her for what felt like the twentieth time. Long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders to frame an exquisite face. She found her fingers itching to reach out and touch the warm, brown skin of the stranger's wrist. Just a quick touch, to see if this amazing creature was real.

Stop it, she told herself. You're being weird.

"Excuse me?" the woman said.

Crap, had she said that aloud? "Oh, um, nothing. I was just... uh, nothing." Shut up, shut up!

The woman nodded serenely, as if Leona wasn't a spastic lunatic tripping over her own tongue. Why was she here anyway? Why was she sitting next to her when the place was half empty? When this woman had asked if the stool was taken, Leona had thought she'd wanted to take it somewhere else.

"Is that any good?" the exotic creature next to her asked, pointing to her coffee.

Leona looked at her mug, which was nearly empty. "Oh, yes. The best! I can't believe I haven't been in here sooner."

The woman nodded again. "I'm glad."

She was? "You are?"

The woman's dark eyes widened a fraction. "I mean, yeah. Everyone should enjoy their coffee, right?"

"Carmen! Organic roast!" a barista called out from across the room.

The woman exhaled with seeming relief. Her eyes darted to Leona. "It was nice meeting you." She stood, hesitated, and then weaved her way between tables with the smooth grace of a gazelle to claim her coffee.

Carmen. Leona's eyes followed as the woman made her way to the station where all the creamers and sugar packets awaited. Her name is Carmen. Would she see Carmen again? Maybe she should start coming here every day. She wanted to know more about this dazzling, organic-drinking siren.

The woman looked up from stirring her coffee. Looked straight at her.

Leona wheeled back to the window with a gasp, mortified at being caught staring. She gulped down her remaining coffee. Coming here every day would be a bad idea. Why torture herself? She wasn't in high school anymore. Grown women weren't supposed to get crushes, right? She would sit a few minutes more to allow the woman time to leave, and then she would never come here again.

"Leona."

She jumped at the sound of her name being whispered beside her. Tried not to swoon when she discovered the beautiful Carmen standing there, dark eyes nervous and expectant. Had she really whispered Leona's name with those divine lips?

Wait, how did she know her name?

The woman slid a napkin across the counter toward Leona, smiled, and then rushed away.

Leona watched her go. Her steps were quick and hurried like she was late for something.

Or running away from something.

Leona was so confused.

She looked down at the napkin. Did she drip coffee on her shirt? She wouldn't be surprised.

Then she noticed the imprint of something written on the other side of the napkin. She flipped the napkin over and read what it said.

Let's talk some more, it said. A phone number was printed beneath that. And at the bottom of the napkin, she'd signed her name.

–Carmen, aka Helper Elf

Leona blinked hard. She had to be imagining things.

She looked again.

–Carmen, aka Helper Elf

Helper Elf? Her breath quickened. Leona's helper elf?

She swallowed and peered out the window, looking for the escaping Carmen, but she was already gone.

With fumbling hands, Leona fished the letter out of her bag and held it up next to the napkin.

The handwriting was identical.

What the—

Leona couldn't even finish a complete thought. Stunned didn't even begin to describe how she felt. What was going on here?

Carmen was Helper Elf. Leona had written an embarrassing letter, mailed it into the ether, and Carmen had been the one to receive it. And she'd replied! She'd replied with kindness and understanding and oh my god she knows who I am now.

Leona broke out into a sweat. She wasn't sure why. Panic attacks were never a thing for her. This situation was just too weird. Too surreal.

Too magical.

She nearly burst into hysterical laughter. Christmas magic? Really? Was this when Leona would finally break from reality and go screaming into the street, flinging her clothes in all directions?

She slurped at the last drops of coffee clinging to the bottom of her mug. Slowed her breathing to a reasonable pace. Tried to regain her senses.

Logic raised its tiny hand, trying to get her attention. You wrote a letter, it reminded her. She replied. She suggested a bakery. You went there. She found you. She gave you her number.

Surely it couldn't be as simple as that?

She wants to talk some more. She said so in the note.

Leona read the napkin ten more times.

Carmen couldn't have spelled it out more plainly than that. She wanted to clear the air and talk without the specter of a secret Helper Elf identity.

Leona smiled, filled with appreciation for the fact that Carmen did not want to play games. Leona didn't do relationship games either.

On that thought, she pulled out her phone. Her finger hovered over the number pad.

Was she really going to call right this second? Was she that desperate?

She set the phone down and looked at the napkin again. Looked at the letter beside it. A line from the letter jumped out at her. You'll find your way.

Maybe Carmen was her way. She would never know unless she tried.

With courage she didn't know she had, Leona took a deep breath.

And dialed the number.