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No answer.
I’m making ready to kick the whole door in, when it creaks open, her tear stained face in the crack between the door and the chain still on it.
“Carol.”
Her face changes, she recognizes me but looks so confused.
“Open the door, Carol, please?” I ask her gently, seeing how upset she is.
I can breathe again once I hear the chain sliding back and the door opens wider.
She’s still in her costume, and her eyes scan me from head to toe.
“It was you… why?” she asks, and I can see in one hand she has the shitty check and in the other, another piece of paper. Looks like a legal document.
Taking her by the shoulders, I sit her down.
“It was supposed to be a surprise, Carol. It went to hell and I’m sorry about that. I really am,” I tell her, stroking her hair back and wanting to kiss her, but her look is too far away.
Distant.
“I was Santa, Mr. Claus… and you were Mrs. Claus,” I tell her. Talking to her as if she’s five.
“Once we’d finished playing The Claus’s, I was supposed to take off the makeup and surprise you – if you couldn’t tell it was me already,” I tell her, stammering a little.
“We were going to go shopping… get you a gown, some jewelry and I’d take you to the Christmas Eve ball.”
Hearing myself say it out loud, it’s me who feels five.
It was a stupid idea. I can see that now.
All about me and nothing about Carol, not without her knowing anyway.
“And those stupid checks,” I add. “I had no idea they were paying people peanuts. I’m gonna fix it, Carol. I will. I just need you back with me first.”
She looks so confused it’s killing me inside. I want to grab a hold of her, pull her close and kiss her so much, but she’s not ready.
“Who are you?” she asks me again, for the second time in as many days.
I guess I should’ve elaborated, but I never like to talk about it much.
“I’m Lucian,” I say, creasing a smile. “Lucian Kellerman,” I add, feeling my own smile fade as it registers with her, finally.
Taking the other piece of paper from her hands, I can see it’s a notice of tenancy.
Everyone in the building will have one, except Jelso the super. He’s long gone.
Twelve hundred bucks from his butt-bank should guarantee him some sort of Christmas.
“Merry Christmas,” I murmur, waving the paper gently in front of her.
It basically states that she can rent the apartment for 99 years for 99 cents, which I took the liberty of paying for each tenant.
“All you have to do is sign here and the place is yours, forever. Your neighbors too, they all got the same thing.”
“You’re Lucian Kellerman?” she finally asks, shaking her head a little before her eyes meet mine.
A look I’m familiar with and was scared I’d nearly lost.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi,” she whispers back.
“I don’t want you to stay here though, Carol. We don’t have to go to any stupid ball either. Just come home with me, please? Let me explain on the way.”Chapter ThirteenCarolIt should have registered earlier, but who would have thought?
Lucian Kellerman is the sole heir to the Kellerman retail empire. Left to him alone by his grandfather, I think. But I always thought he was I don’t know adopted…
Anyway, he’s like one of those urban legends. People you hear about but never see in the news and definitely wouldn’t expect to see dressed up as Santa at a cheesy retail mall.
I hadn’t recognized him because he’s rarely photographed, a veritable recluse.
I always imagined him to be some middle-aged eccentric who talked to plants, riding horses all day, or whatever it is these types of people do.
He leads me back downstairs to his waiting car. The cold air snaps me awake some, and I nuzzle into him out of reflex and need.
But I still don’t understand. Not a hundred percent.
“My Grandfather was Jeremiah Kellerman, lived to be a hundred and eight and I was his only living kin,” he starts to explain after we start the drive.
The drive home.
“I have no memory of my own folks, only know I was all alone in the world until the old man took me in, at his age even back then, he needed an heir to his fortune. I was sent from a wet nurse to boarding school and then to college, and only ever met the man a handful of times.”
He pauses, not in deep thought, but checking I’m listening.
I haven’t said a word since we got in the car.
“Go on,” I tell him, making a face. “I’m listening… but it’s just all so…”
“Unbelievable,” he agrees.
“I know, imagine being twelve or maybe thirteen, told you’re the next in line to a squillion dollar fortune. And in the next breath, being warned not to fuck it up,” he laughs. A real laugh and I can’t help but join him.
