Chapter 33 #2
“That’s my man.” He lifts himself to his feet and tries to wrap me in a liquor-scented hug that I immediately sidestep.
“Oh, you’re going to make those little tykes so happy, I can just tell.
You’ve got that small-town, nice-guy vibe, you know?
I can always tell when someone’s a good person. I know it.”
“Did you think Shannon was a good person?” I can’t help but say.
He looks surprised for half a second, and then he starts guffawing loudly, clapping me on the back. “You’re all right. Right this way, right this way.”
I follow him, already half regretting the decision, and not just because of all the little children pointing at us and staring. But I’m still enjoying the novelty of doing something totally random and unplanned.
I figured he worked at some toy shop or bookstore, but he leads me to the winter village at Bryant Park, full of little glass stalls selling Christmassy wares. Everything is decorated with fairy lights and bows.
“This is it, my man. We’re almost here.”
“Uhh,” I say, slowing to a stop near the park entrance. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”
I can’t help but laugh a little. What the fuck am I even doing?
“Santa’s here,” says a little girl standing at a drink kiosk with her father. She tugs on his arm so hard he drops the hot chocolate he was just handed. Sighing, he holds out another ten-dollar bill. “Another, please.”
Shannon’s ex-boyfriend, whose name I still don’t know, leads me to a festive red tent set up next to the Lodge, which serves food and beverages. A man in an elf costume is pacing the interior of the tent.
When we step inside, he stops and says, “Thank God you’re here, Barry. I was getting—”
He must have just gotten a noseful of Barry, though, because his face twists into a grimace. “Not again. I warned you last time. We don’t—”
“I got my best buddy here to be my replacement,” Barry says eagerly, patting me on the back. “We’re in acting school together.”
“No, we’re not,” I say.
“I can’t put just anyone out there with the kids,” the elf hisses. “What the devil’s gotten into you?”
“Shannon broke up with him,” I say, figuring I might as well really lean into the whole situation. “You can run a quick background check if you want.”
He watches me for a moment before nodding. “Okay, you can stay, if it comes back clean. Barry, you’re fucking fired. Your last day is Saturday.”
Barry scratches his head again. “My last day was Saturday anyway. That’s Christmas Eve.”
“Go,” he says succinctly.
Barry shrugs and throws me a wave. “Bye, man, thanks for keeping those dreams alive.”
I wave back, and the elf sighs and tells me, “It’s too late for us to find anyone else, and they take advantage of it. Every year. You really down for this?”
“Sure, I guess so,” I say. “As long as you’ll take a photo for me. My girlfriend will go nuts for this.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, my friend,” he says, shaking my hand.
He sets me up with a fresh Santa suit, thank Christ, and takes the photo for Lucy, which I immediately text to Lucy. Then I stow my overcoat and suit jacket in Barry’s cubby.
I spend the next four hours bombarded with child after child tugging on my fake beard and asking me if there are really sweatshops in the North Pole, why my magical reindeer can’t be detected by radar, and why I don’t have a belly like a bowlful of jelly.
It’s chaotic and quick and fun. Like last weekend, reading to those kids, I’m reminded of the role I played for my brothers and sister. And, what do you know, it feels good.
Right up until I get to the end of the shift and discover someone stole my overcoat, and my cell phone, wallet, and keys along with it.
Fuck. Fuckkkkk. Fuckity, fuck fuck fuck.
The officer I report the crime to doesn’t seem particularly hopeful about recovering my stolen things. This comes as difficult news, especially since I have no idea how I’ll even get into my apartment. I can’t find a locksmith who takes Venmo, and I only know a few phone numbers by heart.
There is someone who has a copy of my key, however—Rachelle.
So I walk to her apartment building and press the call button.
“Who is it?” she croons, so maybe she’s expecting company. Or Uber Eats.
“It’s Enzo Cafiero,” I say. “I need a favor.”
She’s quiet for so long I figure she stalked off, but finally she says, “Fifteen minutes.”
I’m in no position to complain, so I pace outside for fifteen minutes, according to the clock I can see in the lobby. When I press the call button again, she buzzes me in without saying anything.
Her door’s cracked open when I reach it, so I walk in without knocking—and find her splayed out dramatically on the sofa, wearing a black silk negligee.
So apparently she thought the favor was a pretense to see her.
When she gets a good look at me, she abruptly sits up.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
I’m still wearing the Santa coat, because the elf guy was mortified by the theft and didn’t want to send me off with frostbite.
“A lot of things,” I say, feeling it down to my bones. “I’m a changed man. I also got robbed, and someone stole my keys.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she says. “You can stay here tonight.”
“No,” I say. “I can’t. I need to get home to Hideaway Harbor as soon as possible.”
She wrinkles her nose as if I’d just expressed enthusiasm for venereal diseases. “No offense, but that place is a dump, Enzo.”
“It’s my home,” I say, and I’ll be damned if I don’t mean it. “Do you have my spare key?”
She makes a hmf sound, then gets up and retrieves the key from the junk drawer in her kitchen. She looks pissed off by my existence now that I haven’t given her what she wants, and I marvel at myself. How could I have ever fooled myself into believing there were any real feelings between us?
Still, it is Christmas.
“Merry Christmas,” I say, pausing in the doorframe on my way out.
She stalks over and shuts the door in my face, almost taking out my Cafiero nose.
I don’t have my metro card or any cash, so I have to walk to my apartment. By the time I get there, it’s past three in the morning. I’m so exhausted I collapse onto the couch.
At least I reached out to Lucy and sent her that photo. She’ll know I’m okay, and I’ll figure out the rest in the morning.
But I wake up to hammering on my door. I glance around, completely disoriented, and see the clock over the mantel. It’s one o’clock. One p.m.
Fuck. I should be getting home right now, not just leaving here. But how can I leave? I don’t have my car key, and I don’t even have ID to show a locksmith to prove ownership. I don’t even have a damn license.
My pulse is tripping over itself as I make my way to the door and open it, only then realizing no one even buzzed from the lobby.
I’m shocked to see Giovanni, Nico, and my grandmother gathered outside my door.
“What are you doing, you foolish boy?” my grandmother asks. “You can’t take this job! You belong at home with us.”
“And with Lucy,” Giovanni says. “You love her.”
Goddamn, it shouldn’t have taken my little brother to point out something so obvious.