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A voice whispers, “Hey, I’m so sorry. I forgot you were booked for tonight. I need you to come back another time. My son’s in the den watching a movie, not feeling well, and because of his bionic hearing, he might hear you.”
My heart ticks faster and not just because I might get caught. The voice is what I might call…melodic?Soothing?Almost rhythmic? I calm myself before speaking, not something that I usually have to do with women. Most don’t affect me at all. Probably from shutting down my heart so many times.
I lean close. “Oh. Um. O.K.” It’s like my brain is stuck in low-syllable-count-land. “But… it won’t be me.” I’m not sure why she’d care, but something inside of me needs to put it out there.
I clear my throat and lean in closer to the camera like I might be able to see her. “They’ll send someone else.”
There’s a long pause and I wonder if I’ve lost her. The thought sits like bad fruit cake in my stomach.
“Oh, well, I guess that’s how it’ll have to—”
The door opens and I’m face-to-face with a young boy that barely reaches my belly button through the glass storm door.
And all the blood drains from my body and all I hear from the doorbell is, “Oh, fuck!”
I stop a chuckle as the child opens the door.
“Santa?” he asks, with wide eyes.
This isn’t supposed to happen.
My chest burns. I could turn and walk away saying, “Wrong house,” but that wouldn’t be me.
“Well, hello… there…” I stumble briefly and quickly straighten from the doorbell.
If I wasn’t so damn awkward with kids…
Adults I can engage, but someone I can’t tell what they’re thinking, that puts me on high alert and waiting for something I can’t handle.
“What are you doing here? Christmas isn’t until Sunday.”
Smart kid.
“Um…um… just, just doing a dry run!” I use my business acumen on why I’d send someone early. “Need to make sure that we could find your house.”
The young boy looks around the corner and his furrowed brow deepens. “Where are your elves and reindeer?”
I’m getting the third degree from a child!
“Ummm… I gave them the night off. They’re very busy and deserve a break.”
A light chuckle comes through the doorbell, and I shuffle my feet to cover the outburst, but not before noticing that her chuckle is even melodic.
“My mom needs that, too.”
My gaze goes to the doorbell. The light is still green.She’s still watching?
The young boy closes the glass door behind him and since his parent is watching, I figure it’s okay to continue and if I’d deny Nyck this I’d hear it from the program.
“I know I haven’t gotten my list to you. Can I just tell you right now?”
“Sure. Let’s sit.” I move back toward the wrought iron bench on the front porch.
We both slip onto the bench and Nyck makes sure I’m looking at him. This kid is going to rule the world someday. His instincts are something I live by. Look a person in the eyes. Don’t scare away from a confrontation. Ask for what you want.
“So, what would you like this year, Nyck?” I think what I wanted when I was about his age. “A bicycle? Video games?”
“No.” He shakes his head and sighs. The sound pulls me in. Whatever he wants it’s weighing heavy on him. “I want my mom not to be sad anymore.”
