Chapter When I was twenty-two （1989）
When I was twenty-two
It never ceased to amaze me that Santa didn’t age.
He appeared exactly as he had been when I was twelve, whereas I’d changed so much.
I was trying to grow a beard, without much success, but it was early days.
Mom complained and said I looked better clean-shaven, but I was not about to get rid of it.
I’d arrived two days before Christmas, and I’d be leaving after four—my new boss was a hardass, and if he didn’t intend taking time off for the holidays, he didn’t see why anyone else should.
Of course, I had my own reasons for not wanting to stay longer, but I wasn’t about to share them. Not that I could have done anything during the festive season—Jay wasn’t available, and knowing where he was only increased my feelings of guilt.
This is wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this.
When midnight arrived on Christmas Eve, I’d pulled on my robe and crept downstairs, wondering which of us would get there first. He was gazing into the fire, so lost in thought he was oblivious to me. When he finally became aware of my presence, he smiled.
“So how’s life as a working man?”
I snorted. “Can I go back to being a student, please?”
“I did wonder if you’d be here or if you’d stay in Philadelphia.” There was something in his eyes that made me think he knew all about my life.
“You should know by now. Mom issued her usual decree. Be here or else.”
His gaze was thoughtful. “Still single?”
Yeah, now I was certain he knew more than he was letting on, but I wasn’t ready to talk about Jay. “How come you never talk about your life?” I demanded. “I have no idea how you spend the other three hundred sixty-four days of the year.”
“Getting ready for tonight, of course.”
My stomach clenched, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he’d just lied to me. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
The absence of his familiar smile sent icy fingers trailing down my spine. “No, I’m not. You don’t fill me in on what’s happened during the whole of your year, do you? All I get is a snapshot.” Then he smiled, and I relaxed. “You have no idea how much I look forward to our chats.”
I scanned the couch and the table. “No condoms this year?” I teased.
He waved a hand. “You were right. You’re old enough to buy your own.” His gaze grew penetrative. “I was worried about you.”
“Why?”
“It was back in September. I suddenly had the feeling all was not well with you. I wanted to know you were all right.”
My throat seized. Okay, that was uncanny. I tried to swallow, but my mouth had dried up.
He stood, went over to the liquor cabinet, and poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed one to me. “You’re old enough for this too.”
I sipped it, trying not to choke when it hit the back of my throat. “How come my dad never notices there’s less whiskey in the bottle after your visits?”
He grinned. “You already know the answer to that.” His expression became grave. “What happened in September?”
I took another sip. “I got some sad news, that’s all. Someone I’d known in college. He… died.” My gaze met his. “AIDS.”
God, he sat so still. “Did you and he ever…?”
I sighed. “Yeah, once. But just thinking about that one time gives me chills.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t want to use protection, but I insisted.”
He shivered. “I’m glad about that. I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m glad you’re still here. Now, why don’t you tell me what it is you’re trying so hard not to share?”
I should have known he’d see right through me.
“I… I’ve met someone. We work together.”
He frowned. “Then why aren’t you happy about it? Because you’re not, are you?”
I shook my head. “It’s complicated.”
He leaned back. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me.”
“He… he’s a married man. With kids.”
He widened his eyes. “Did you know he was married when you first went on a date with him?”
I gaped. “No. I wouldn’t do that. We’d been together about six months before…
before his wife turned up at the office.
And then someone asked if their son was doing better, because he’d come off his bike.
” I swallowed. “I had no idea. I wanted to end it there and then, but he begged… When Mom asked if I was coming home for the holidays, I wasn’t really in the mood, but I knew Jay would be with his family. ”
“He’s an older guy?”
I nodded. “Older, sexy… and apparently bisexual.”
“And now that you know…” Santa didn’t break eye contact. “Will you stay with him? Because it doesn’t matter how hard he begs. If you’re not happy, call a halt to it.”
I expelled a long breath. “You’re right, of course. He’s a sweet guy—”
“Who’s cheating on his wife,” Santa continued. “And you don’t strike me as the kind of man who would be content with that kind of situation.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “So now I’m a man?”
He smiled too. “Of course. The boy I first met in this room has become a thoughtful, caring, considerate man.” He stared at me. “Who doesn’t flinch from doing what he knows is right.”
My breathing hitched.
“You haven’t told your parents?”
“Good Lord, no. Though maybe it’s time they knew I was gay.”
“They’ll still worry about you. These are precarious times to be a gay man.”
I took another drink. “Maybe you should check inside your sack. You know, in case there’s a handsome older guy hiding in one of the corners.”
Santa reached over and took my hand. “Believe me, I wish there were. Though I can’t imagine the look on your parents’ faces if they came downstairs Christmas morning to find him gift-wrapped under the tree.” He squeezed my hand. “I hope next time we meet in happier circumstances.”
I’d made my mind up. I was going to return to Philadelphia, go back to work, and break it off with Jay. What we had going wasn’t fair on his wife and family, nor me. In truth, part of me had known I’d break it off, even as he was begging me not to.
Santa knows me better than Jay does. He knows I’ll do the right thing.
Yet another Christmas Eve had come along, and still no mention of Santa’s wife. Then a terrible thought seized hold of me.
What if she’s dead?
Except how could she be? If he was immortal, then she’d have to be too.
And in that moment, realization washed over me. Oh God, how long will he live like this? Until people no longer believe in him? Until he’s nothing but a myth?
My heart went out to him. I covered his hand with my own.
“If you ever need to share… anything… you find me, okay? Because I will be there for you.”
To my surprise, his eyes glistened. “Thank you. Because you meant every word of it.” He tugged his hand free.
“But now I must go.” Santa got to his feet, and I joined him.
“Enjoy your time with your family. And try not to think about what’s waiting for you at home.
Don’t let Jay pressure you into staying together, not if you’ve made your mind up to end it.
” He gazed into my eyes. “Because you have, haven’t you? ”
I nodded. “Thank you for listening. There was no one else I could tell about this.”
“Then I’m happy I was here for you.” And he was gone.
No sooner had he vanished than I became aware of noises throughout the house: the creaks any house made after time, the ticking of a clock, the hoot of an owl outside…
Then I realized I’d heard no sound at all while we’d talked.
I thought back on all our previous encounters.
How come I’d never noticed the absence of sound?
Probably because I was too engrossed in the conversation.
Does he somehow stop time, or slow it down at least? That was one explanation. But that theory led me down another road.
Do I stop ageing when I’m with him, if only for a short while?
Now there was a thought…