Unsure how Little I could go, I put my favorite Christmas jams on. It was a two-piece set, which usually wasn't my favorite kind, but they were covered with little itty-bitty elves, all in different poses and in some state of causing mischief. One was holding mistletoe over Santa. One was snatching a cookie. Another was peeking inside a present…all the normal hijinks you'd expect from me. The jams were great and comfy and warm. The only problem was they didn't have feeties.
A notification from the milk app went off, and I ran so fast I nearly toppled over to get my phone. It was the person I was buying from, just like I hoped.
Can you pick it up in an hour? I just pumped, and I'd hate to put it in the fridge only to have it leave and go right back into another fridge.
I wasn't sure that mattered, but it was sweet that he cared about giving me the best product.
How far away are you again?
He told me, and when I did the math, it got me back here with a solid fifteen minutes before Santa would arrive. Perfect.
I'm on my way.
I threw jeans over my jams, wrapped a scarf around my neck before zipping up my coat, and after a quick glance in the mirror to make sure I looked fully dressed, off I went to the meet-up location. My jaw nearly hit the floor when he turned around and I saw who it was. It was the man who was donating his time as Santa, and he was even wearing his Santa pants, avoiding any second-guessing on my part.
"Hi, I brought cash," I said.
Then he did exactly what I needed him to, although at the time, I assumed he was simply being silly. "Need some milk for when Santa comes for story time?"
I grabbed the jar and hugged it close. "Ummmmm…something like…yes?" So much for speaking eloquently or in complete thoughts. I held the money out for him. "You're still coming, right? I won." I’d never forgive myself if I ruined this now.
"Of course, sweet boy, I'm still coming."
It wasn't "baby boy" like I longed to hear, but "sweet boy" did something to me.
"Okay, gotta go!" And off I raced. It was not my shining moment, but at least when Santa walked in, he’d know what he was getting into. Sort of. The signs were there in both directions. In either case, he was still coming, and that was all that currently mattered.
When I got home, I filled my smallest bottle with milk and put the rest in the fridge, barely getting my outer clothes off beforesucking away at it. It was everything I needed…a bit sweet and still warm from his body. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate to be downing a bottle, knowing he was coming, but I bought it, right? It was fine.
He knocked on the door a few minutes later, his Santa hat was on and a bag was slung over his shoulder. He acted as if nothing weird was going on. "Ho ho ho! I'm here to read a story to Dakota."
"I'm Dakota." I went to raise my hand like I was in school, then realized the bottle was still in it and quickly shoved it behind my back.
He reached out his white-gloved hand, tapped my nose. "No need to hide from me, Dakota. Santa sees all." Then he walked in, shutting the door behind him. "Where would you like me to read?"
I pointed to the recliner.
"Is anybody else going to listen to my story, Dakota? Or is this just for you?"
"Just me, Santa." I wished I had Little friends, but so far in this city, I didn’t have so much as an acquaintance of any kind, much less a friend I could share my Little side with.
"Do you have any friends who want to come? Maybe a teddy or a froggy?"
Just then, Mr. Whiskers decided to meow.
"...or a cat?”
“Is that okay?" I was thrilled to let Mr. Whiskers out. I felt guilty about shutting the door in the first place.
"Of course it is. Did you get a cat from the shelter?"
"That's how I saw the jar, Santa. I bought all the raffle tickets. Thirty-five."
"You must have really wanted Santa to come and read to you."
My head bobbed up and down like one of those bobblehead dolls. "I did, Santa."
"Well, go let Mr. Whiskers out. And if you have any friends who want to come and be the audience, they can." Then he leaned in close. "I won't even charge you the extra ten dollars for any over five."
