“Actually, I know it's totally last minute, but we need a Santa. Asher backed out of doing it”
“Okay. What are you telling me that for?”
She licks her lips again. “I was wondering if you could be the Santa?”
A frown forms on my face. Running a hand over my beard, I try to get this straight. “You're asking me to dress up as Santa Claus and hand out candy canes?”
“And presents,” she says, hope in her voice. “I know I should have asked sooner, but I thought if I asked earlier, you definitely would have said no.”
“So, you're putting me on the spot? Pressure much?”
“You'll be such a good Santa,” she insists.
“I’d rather stay here with you tonight.” I give her a hard look, but I’ve already made up my mind. No way in hell would I tell this girl no.
She smiles. “I know, but if you play Santa, then maybe later I'll sit in Santa's lap.”
I chuckle. “You got me there, girl. You got me there real good.” I pull her to me and give her a long, hard kiss. She's gasping for air and I like it. I squeeze her ass. My cock wants more, but she backs me away.
“Filson, you are trouble,” She twists her lips, her pleasure apparent. “You put me off for the last three weeks and then the night when we have to get ready and go to the party, you're trying to get me all flustered?”
I laugh. “Is that what we're calling it? Flustered?”
“What you want me to say? All hot and bothered?”
“I don't know. You could say you're horny.”
She whimpers deliciously. “Well, I am, but we don't have to be so explicit.”
“All right,” I say squeezing her ass. “So, you're telling me if I put on that costume, you'll be happy?”
“I'll be very happy.”
“Well then, Maple St. Claire, your wish is my command.”
Her eyes sparkle. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m dressing up as Santa’s elf.” Now it's my turn to lick my lips. I pull her back in for another kiss. “Oh, girl, you have no idea how good that sounds.”
Maple
When Filson walks down the stairs in the Santa's suit, I can't help but burst out laughing.
“That's not exactly the vote of confidence I was going for,” he says, chuckling as he reaches the bottom stair.
“I’m not laughing at you. I'm laughing with you,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.
“Right, because I'm cracking up so hard,” he says deadpan.
“Oh, don’t become a Grinch. It’s time for your heart to grow ten times in size.” I run my fingers through his beard and stand on my tippy toes, giving him a quick kiss on his lips. “I like the idea of a young Santa. Santa’s usually white-haired, but you…” I say running my hands over the red Santa suit, “are the fittest and most handsome Saint Nick I've ever seen.”
“You don't think it will upset the kids? I mean, me not having a big belly.”
I laugh. “No, I think the ladies will be jealous of the kids that get to sit in your lap.”
He grins. “There's only one woman sitting in my lap tonight.”
“Tonight?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “What about all those other nights?”
He laughs. “Maple, you're driving me crazy. You realize that, don't you?”
I shrug, giving him a flirty look with my eyes. “Yeah. It's one of my gifts.” Then I twirl in a circle. “How do I look?” I have on green tights and red slippers and a red dress. Green turtleneck underneath.
He adjusts the elf hat on my head, and I beam up at him.
“I’ll be a good helper to you tonight,” I say with a sly smile.
“Oh, I know you will,” he says, patting my ass as we walk to the door. “Now do I have any other job responsibilities I need to be aware of?”
“Nope. Just sit there and look pretty,” I tell him.
After making sure all the Christmas lights are on at the house, we walk down Jungle Bell Lane, hand in hand. Every home in the neighborhood is lit up and gleaming, and the road has been blocked off making it a safe place for families to celebrate,
There are carolers walking up and down the sidewalks singing classic Christmas carols. Chestnuts are roasted by a man rolling a cart. There's a hot chocolate stand by the local cafe and a big white tent has been set up in the middle of the road. Underneath it are portable heaters and a long runner leading to a throne.
“That's where you're sitting,” I tell him as kids jump up and squeal in delight when they see Santa Claus. Filson does his best to give them more than a curt nod.
“Smile,” I say wrapping my arm around his. “Put on a show.”
“I must really like you if I'm doing this.”
I look up at him and softly, I say, “Yeah, you must.”
Then and there, I feel a softening in my heart that I wasn't expecting. Yes, I want Filson. I'm dying to be with Filson, but I also need him in a way that has my scared little heart warming.
I need Filson in my life and yes, this getting-the-house-ready-to-sell project has finished, but I don't want to let him go. I know he's going to be so upset when I tell him what's happening… that I'm selling the house, that I'm losing the kitchen… that everything I've worked for, that my granny has worked for, is going up in flames.
I've put it off long enough and I know he deserves the conversation. But selfishly, I'm not ready to go there. I want to hold on to some sort of normal, and right now being with Filson feels like the most natural thing in the world. I don't want it to disappear when I tell him the truth.
“Hey, don't do that,” he says as he takes his place on the golden chair.
“Do what?” I ask.
“Get lost in your head.”
I adjust the Santa hat, meeting his eyes. “I’m here,” I tell him. “I'm present. I'm yours.”
He kisses me softly, even though I know most of Snowy Valley is watching. Let them. This right here is my Christmas Miracle.
The next few hours fly by as toddlers and children line up to get pictures with Santa Claus. They whisper their Christmas lists to him and he gives his best ho, ho, ho and a candy cane. I take the hands of little kids dreaming of sugar plums fairies… well, probably PlayStations and Xboxes — by the hand leading them to Santa. It's a magical night.
There's big Christmas tree that glitters before us. With each flash of the light bulb as the photographer takes the pictures of Santa and the kids, my heart seems to grow a little bit more because this is the kind of Christmas celebration my granny would have loved to see.
She would see me happy here with Filson and that would give her a sense of reassurance that I was going to be okay after she was gone. She always wanted me to date, to find someone special. But I think deep down she knew Filson was my something special.
Over the years, she'd say things about seeing him in town. Maybe running into him at the grocery store or gas station and ask if I ever wanted to rekindle the friendship we had. But I just shook my head. She would tsk-tsk, saying under her breath that he was a boy who needed a little tender loving care.