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Check mark number one for the good guy box. He loved kids. Dick always hated kids, and I figured it was just that he was so into his music, not that it was a sign that he was a jerk. Guess I should have paid more attention. I wondered if Santa would be good with dogs, too?
“I know Santa,” a little girl was shouting.
“Do not,” another child shoved her.
“Do too!” she cried.
Abigail Sparks . . . well, Drake now . . . was making a beeline for the children. That must be her little girl Lute.
“Children do fight about the silliest things,” Santa said, shaking his head.
“I guess.”
The adults intervened and separated the children. They went back to their spots in line. When Lute got to the front of the line, I led her to Santa. His face was turned away and his hand up, waving. He took her and shooed me along. It was strange behavior from the man who’d been greeting everyone so, well . . . Santa-ly.
He whispered to Lute and she crossed her arms in front of her chest in a pout, but she gave him her list and then headed off.
When my cousin Abigail came forward to collect her, Santa’s hat was pulled down almost over his eyes. He must really be uncomfortable in that suit.
When the children had all had their turn, we helped clean up the space before I went upstairs to change. Santa insisted he was just fine in his suit, though he did take out the cushioning and set it aside. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he was stubborn. Then he went out on the back balcony to get some air.
I brushed out my hair, and was glad to see it still had a nice wave, and reapplied my makeup. My jeans were well-fitting, and my sweater was a thin one with a little bit of sparkle to it. I’d had fun tonight so far and I didn’t want it to end. I was done with Dick and his conniving, and I was more than ready for some Christmas magic.
When I came back downstairs, I headed into the dining room. They’d set up an absurdly long table in order to accommodate all of the family and friends. Overhead, the chandeliers sparkled and the dining chairs were draped with ribbons. Down the center were poinsettias and candles in various arrangements, barely leaving room for our plates. Each place had a card indicating whose seat it was, and there was a separate table in the alcove for the children.
Next to my place was a card that said simply: Santa. Ha! He had said he was a friend of the family, so I wondered why they hadn’t put his real name. I took my seat and waited for my companions.
“You’re lucky, Lily,” Lute said. She was one of the most adorable of my cousins’ children.
“Why?”
“You get to sit next to Santa!”
I grinned. I had hoped he would take off that hot suit, but I could see what he meant about preserving the magic. The children would be upset if he showed up in regular clothes and sat at a spot labeled: Santa. They might not even recognize him, though I supposed I’d know those warm brown eyes anywhere. He’d made an impression on me already.
Speaking of Santa, he dropped down into the seat next to me with a sigh.
“Did you get cooled off?”
“Yes,” he said. “Much better.”
Lute lingered near the table until her mother came by and pushed her toward the children’s alcove.
“You had your chance to talk to Santa,” she said. “It’s the grownups’ turn now.”
“Aww, Mom.”
Abigail guided her away.
“Wine, Santa?” I asked after pouring myself a glass.
“Yes,” he said, command leaking into his tone again. “I need a grownup drink.”
“Well, you deserve it,” I said. “You did great with the kids.”
“Thanks.” He leaned back against his chair and sipped the wine. His eyes strayed down the table toward the rest of the guests. “The whole family here?”
“I think so. Well, not my brothers. They are away on tour.” The Sparks were a big family. We were twenty here tonight, not counting kids, and as usual they’d invited not only the immediate family but various cousins.
