Mistletoe Kisses

She turns her head to look at me, then she looks away and shakes her head. “No. I’ll drop one off in the office so they announce it Monday morning, but I’ll just come early Monday to pass out the rest.”

“You could’ve assigned the job to someone else, you know.”

“I know,” she murmurs, sounding none too enthused. “I did ask for volunteers.”

“Yes, and then when none of those deadbeats offered to pull their weight, you should’ve made someone do it. If you don’t have that authority, you could’ve looked to me; I’d have had have no problem making those lazy brats perform.”

Her lips curve up faintly. “I do have the authority as the leader of the club, I just learned the hard way that if people don’t offer to help, they don’t want to help, and if they don’t want to help, they will do the job like someone who doesn’t care about it. Last year we did this shoe drive, it was the first project I was ever in charge of myself, and Miss Styles stressed the importance of delegating even if people acted like it killed them to participate. She said if I did everything myself they’d certainly let me, but I’d wear myself out. She said that in order to be a good leader, I had to delegate.”

She’s said nothing I disagree with so far, so I wait for the rest of the story.

“I tried it her way.” She looks at me. “I did my part and trusted everyone else to do theirs, and do you know what happened?”

I don’t, but I bet it won’t be good.

“Dinah posted on her Instagram about it once—but posted 35 selfies of her driving, or at Starbucks, or posing in her cheer uniform that week, naturally. I asked Lewis to take point on passing out the flyers since he’s a jock and he’s popular and I thought he would be good at that. I planned the whole thing out carefully and gave everyone tasks that played to their strengths.”

“Sounds like the right way to go about it.”

Noelle nods. “Nobody else did anything. I found all but one of the flyers in the trash. Lewis put one up on the main bulletin board but nowhere else. He didn’t even take one down to the office or give one to the school paper so they could write about it in the next edition. The project was a complete catastrophe. The entire school ended up with 10 pairs of shoes to donate, and I bought 4 of those pairs myself.”

“All right, and what did you learn from that experience? You don’t just give up the first time you fail. Take notes and correct your course next time. Ride their asses if you have to.”

“I tried, but it was exhausting. Just as exhausting as doing it all myself, but a dozen times more infuriating. I have given them all the chances in the world to help out, and I still accept help if someone wants to on a certain project, but right now no one cares, so I’ll just take care of it myself.”

I shake my head at her. “That’s why you’re so easy to take advantage of.”

Narrowing her eyes at me, she says, “I am not easy to take advantage of.”

“I believe I have enough authority on this to disagree with you.”

Noelle shakes her head, looking away from me. “I wasn’t taken advantage of. I knew what I was doing, I knew the toll it might take on me, I simply chose to do it anyway. People are allowed to have different priorities, Mr. McLaren. There’s not just one right way to be a human.”

“Maybe not, but there are right ways to be a leader, and letting those useless little monsters skate by and claim credit for all your hard work isn’t on the list. Hold them accountable; make them do the work or kick them out of the club. You have to show them you’re serious, Noelle, or they’ll do what’s easy and let you do all the work for them. They’re spoiled. Kick them out and start over with a new crop.”

She waves me off, tucking her papers into her binder. “Anyway, this is not a seminar on leadership styles, it’s a community outreach meeting, and we still have work to do, so we better get to it. It’s supposed to snow tonight, and I’d like to be back home before it starts.”

I frown at her. “What do you mean? I thought the meeting was over.”

“For the useless monsters, yes,” she says lightly. “For us? Nope. We have to go collect all the toys from the various collection boxes around campus, then we have to take them to the fire station to drop them off, and then ideally we need to drive to Marymount so we can pick up some things there. I made a couple calls myself and solicited donations from a bookstore there. A lot of the kids on my shopping lists all wanted this same book, so I wanted to see about ordering multiple copies. When I told her what it was for, the owner of the bookshop wanted to help.” Somehow flashing me a victorious smile, she adds, “See? Some people want to help.”

“What do you mean, the kids on your shopping list?” I watch as she tucks her binder into her backpack, then slings it on her shoulders. “I didn’t think the toy drive had wishlists.”

“Well… kind of. The main drive doesn’t, but you know how around this time of year certain stores and banks will have those trees set up with Christmas wishlists for kids whose parents can’t afford to buy them gifts? Some kids don’t get picked. Mainly teens. The drive and the tree wishlists are for kids up to 15, but some people want to shop for little kids, because, you know, little kids are adorable and they want cute stuff that’s fun to buy. Older kids make lists, too, though—sports balls and art supplies and books, whatever it is they want, it just tends to be less fun. Anyway, the day of the deadline for turning in presents, I went and collected as many of the unclaimed wishlists as I could and made arrangements for later fulfill-by dates. It’s sort of my Christmas side project. I use the money I make working at the North Pole to shop for them. I have to finish by this coming Thursday, though, since they need time to deliver the presents to the parents so they can set them out for the kids for Christmas.”

I cock my head, fascinated. “You got a job specifically so you could buy things for strangers? That’s insane.”

Noelle shrugs. “Not really. It’s only seasonal work, it’s not like it’s a huge commitment. Besides, I take my job as an elf very seriously; every boy and girl on the nice list has to get something for Christmas,” she says playfully.

She’s nuts, but I can’t help smiling, charmed. “What about me?”

“Oh, you’re on the naughty list,” she assures me. “No toys for you.”

“Am I?” I murmur, my smile widening.

Noelle nods definitively. “I had Santa blacken your name out so i

t’s barely even legible. You might never get any presents again.”