Miss Claus by J.R. Hart

Author:J.R. Hart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, seasonal, family drama, trans, grey ace, Santa Claus, North Pole, father/daughter relationship, engagement
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2021-10-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Sitting in room 133, Kris scribbled at her paper, glancing up at the front of the room, hand flying across the page as she took notes on a heated debate over traffic signals at the four-way stop.

“Traffic lights will ruin the aesthetic of the intersection!” Mark Sr. protested.

“But we’ve had two near misses this week,” Ian said. “We can find some that will match the streetlights but keep everyone safe. It can always be the type that flashes yellow and helps draw more attention than the stop signs do. Right now, we have people blowing through them. It’s one thing when it’s a car against another car, but quite another when we start to involve horses and pedestrians. Then they don’t even have a fighting chance.”

“I’m keener on banning cars than I am on adding a traffic light, I’ll tell you that,” Mrs. Butterquil added.

“Banning cars is not practical in the cold winter. We cannot possibly walk everywhere or use horses when the winter weather gets that blustery.” Kris had the impression Ian, one of the few voices of reason they had, was fighting a losing battle with The Council.

She started to zone out after that. Things were going to get more heated, and eventually they’d only table the issue. She was almost certain of it. If Mark Sr. found himself in doubt of getting enough votes on his side, if the traffic light measure might pass, he was certain to set it aside for a while and try to win favor. Kris couldn’t see a way that the measure didn’t ultimately pass. It would only take one more close call for everyone to see the importance. She just hoped, much like Ian, that one more close call wouldn’t become a bad incident.

Across the room, she could hear the crinkle of Mark Jr. unwrapping a cough drop, sure to be a menthol. Not cherry menthol. Just…menthol. She never understood how he could stomach those. He hadn’t even spoken to her when they’d entered the meeting and had taken a seat across the room. Not even pleasantries had been exchanged, and she wondered if that would change during the potluck.

Kris glanced up again. “Moving to table the measure until the next vote.”

She resisted the urge to chuckle, lips curling up at the edges in a stifled smirk. Of course Mark Sr. would move to table the discussion.

She glanced over at Mark Jr. He kept writing in his legal pad as if nothing was happening. His attendance had increased at the meetings lately, and she wondered if he’d started coming more because he thought he might be Santa still. Joke’s on you. You’re not even a Council member. She felt bad for being so bitter, but the point stood. As much as she wasn’t concerned who Santa was now that she wasn’t an option, provided they follow in her father’s footsteps well—and Mark would do that—a tiny part of her didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of winning out after everything that had happened.

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