Chapter Six
Gunnar
The day my mission began and he got his burger, I worked late into the night, still not where I wanted to be for my holiday break.
I didn’t get as much as I wanted done, my mind wandering to the next floor, wishing I could’ve seen his face when it came.
Was he happy? Had he been out for a meeting and gotten it cold?
Did they forget the parmesan on his fries?
Did his coworker try and eat half of it?
There were so many ways it could’ve gone down.
I didn’t really care how it played out as long as it put a smile on his face—a real one. One that reached his eyes.
It was near ten when I left, and, as exhausted as I was, I made sure to stop by the corner store to grab a sandwich. I might not have a daddy taking care of me, but if I didn’t eat something, tomorrow was going to be rough.
While I was there, I picked up Vaughn’s favorite candy bar and a blue pen that had a Santa Claus on top.
The pen was very little coded, and I wasn’t sure I’d be brave enough to give it to him, but it was blue, and onto the counter it went.
I also grabbed one of the scratch-off lottery tickets that was blue with snowflakes on it, one of the dollar ones.
I didn’t even know they made those anymore, and the prizes were small.
Even if he won, it wasn’t going to be a life-changer, but it might put a smile on his face.
Back home, I ate my sandwich, slid into my pajamas, and then looked at the list Hudson gave me for the forty-seven billionth time.
There weren’t enough items to make it for the full Secret Santa tour, so I tried to figure out the best way to fill it out.
I could only have food delivered to his office a couple of times without it being noticed.
But at least I had something for tomorrow.
I wrapped up the candy bar in blue tissue paper, stuck it in a little gift bag, and left it on the counter for the morning.
Then came the tricky part: what to put on the card.
I could stick with the Enjoy your…comments.
That was easy enough, but I wanted it to be a little more fun than that.
So I looked online for any whatchamacallit puns I could find.
Pinterest was full of them, and there were a lot to choose from. Too many.
Most of them were pretty much designed for people you knew well, about them being the perfect gift, but one stuck out at me. It was perfect: Just a little whatchamacallit to make your Christmas sweeter.
It wasn’t personal; it wasn’t innuendo filled.
I’d be comfortable giving it to someone’s grandmother or my boss.
It was perfect. Before I could second-guess myself, I wrote it down, signed it Your Secret Santa, and added the blue star stickers I’d picked up.
It might not have been the world’s fanciest gift, but I hoped it would brighten his day.
I got to work early, hoping to set it by his office door.
I was too late. Vaughn’s car was already there.
I recognized it immediately. It had a license plate frame covered in Christmas lights.
I had noticed it that first day when I saw him getting hot chocolate and watched he and his little drive away. I thought it was so adorable.
I’d honestly been surprised he hadn’t taken it off, especially after learning why he was hating Christmas now. But on there it stayed, and that was good because it meant I knew exactly how I was going to get him his next gift now that my initial plan was thwarted.
I pulled it out of my messenger bag and placed it on the roof of his car. The parking garage would prevent the wind from taking it. Most people who worked in this building weren’t jerks, and I felt good about leaving it. If they stole a candy bar, they stole a candy bar.
“Happy day two, Vaughn. I hope this makes you smile,” I whispered and then on to work I went.
After that first day, I really got into Secret Santa. It was funny, because I thought I was all in when I first got the idea, but now that a present had been delivered by me? Now, I was all about it.
I spent far more time on Pinterest than was probably healthy and was having a blast searching for cute little ways to wrap and deliver my gifts. I was careful to be sure that they weren’t too personal or couldn’t be misinterpreted as creepy. My intent was for Vaughn to love the experience.
This Secret Santa thing was a blast. One morning, I had coffee delivered to him.
On another, I had a little desktop Christmas tree decorated with the tiniest little ornaments ever waiting at his door.
It was absolutely adorable, and I half wanted to get one for everyone I knew.
Hot cocoa with a marshmallow on top that was the head of a snowman was an afternoon treat.
Everywhere I went, I looked for something else to get him. I didn’t know how he was reacting to any of it, but my Christmas wish was that it was filling him with joy and bringing back the Christmas spirit.
And then, as I was walking through the toy store to see if they had the new Christmas froggy stuffie I’d been looking for, I saw it—a Christmas snow globe kit in his favorite color.
It wasn’t just a winter wonderland or Santa’s village, either.
It was a mermaid and glittery, and I knew I had to give it to him.
I spent that night working on it, making it as beautiful as I possibly could, and then headed into the store to get even more blue glitter.
It was far nicer than I thought it would be for a kit and was probably even something I could sell at a craft market.
But this wasn’t for that. This was for Vaughn.
If all the super-holiday vibes were hard for him, maybe this, something so completely different, could be the thing that brought his smile.
The day for delivery, I got nervous. Having left too many things at or being delivered to his office might get me caught.
But also, something about this particular gift didn’t feel like one his entire office should see unless he wanted them to.
It was more special, at least to me. Instead, I decided, once again, to make this a car gift.