Chapter When I was thirty-five （2002）
When I was thirty-five
I poured myself a glass of whiskey, then debated pouring a second.
But will he be here? His visit the previous year had been even shorter than the one before.
Maybe he had finally tired of our conversations. If that were true, it would be a pity, because right then I needed my friend more than ever.
Can Santa’s magic heal a broken heart?
The clock stopped ticking, the noise of the traffic died, and I smiled.
“I went to your apartment. Someone else is living in it.”
“That would be because they bought it from me.” I pointed to the liquor cabinet. “Make yourself at home.”
Santa stood beside the tree. He glanced at it. “You trimmed this one, didn’t you?” His lips twitched.
God, it was so good to see him.
I chuckled. “It shows, huh?”
“Why didn’t Kris do it?” He helped himself to some whiskey.
“That would be a little difficult. He’s in Aruba with his boyfriend.” I took a long drink.
Santa stared at me, his expression aghast. “But…” He swallowed. “You seemed so happy last time I saw you.”
I sighed. “I was—right up to the point where I found out the bastard was cheating on me. Had been cheating on me for an entire year, in fact.”
“But why sell the apartment?”
“Because every time I was there, all I could see was him, all right?” I didn’t bother lowering my voice.
I knew no one would hear me. “I got a new job, by the way. Now I live in this quaint little town called New Hope. Beautiful place. You’d love it.
I’m surprised you don’t already know about it.
But maybe you’re not keeping close tabs on me the way you used to.
” Another drink of whiskey. This was my second, and judging by the way I was feeling, it needed to be my last.
I heard the hitch in his breathing, and I glanced in his direction. His pained expression cut me to the quick. “That part about not keeping tabs on you…I wouldn’t want you to think I was… stalking you.”
“But you do watch me, don’t you?”
“Not watch, exactly. I seem to know if you’re going through… turbulence.”
I snorted. “I imagine the day I found out about Kris’s cheating, there would have been quite a lot of that.”
“You’d be right.” He sighed. “You have no idea the effort it took to come here and not launch into an interrogation, to learn what had happened. I was aiming for nonchalance.”
“Then you pretty much nailed it.” Another drink from my glass.
The pain was still etched across his face. “You’re hurting.”
“Yup, but I’ll heal. Just need to find myself a hot older guy, add another notch to my bedpost, and forget Kris.” The words came out more flippantly than I’d intended, but that was how I felt.
I need to get laid. A lot.
And I needed to change the subject.
“Anyhow, Mom asked me to come stay for the holidays. I saw the offer for what it was—an olive branch.”
“They never did warm to Kris, did they?”
“No, they did not. But to be honest, they haven’t mentioned his name once since I arrived. They’re too busy cooing over my nephew and niece.”
He beamed. “That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, Ben and Layla finally made them grandparents. I think they were beginning to despair.”
He sipped his whiskey. “Ever thought about having kids?”
I shrugged. “Thought about it. Decided against it.” And for some reason I didn’t feel comfortable discussing this. Ben was welcome to have as many kids as he wanted. Layla could pop them out like peas for all I cared.
Maybe some people aren’t made to have children.
It wasn’t a realization I was keen to discuss with Santa. After all, this was the man who loved kids, right?
Time to change the subject.
I glanced at him. “How are you?”
“I’m good.”
He looked the same, but… Was I imagining a few more lines on his brow? The slight downward curl of his lips? The dark smudges under his eyes?
I had to be. This man couldn’t change—could he?
All the same…
I set my glass down. “How long have we been friends? More than twenty years, right? Okay, so that equates to what, three weeks of Christmas Eves when you add them all up. It’s still long enough that I know when you’re lying to me.” I locked gazes with him. “And you are lying to me.”
God, he could have been a statue.
Finally, he spoke. “I love my job.”
“Glad to hear it. Because if you didn’t after all this time, that would really suck.”
“But there’s one thing about my life I wish I could change.”
“And that is?”
He gestured to the living room. “This. Talking. Having a glass of whiskey. And not telling you so much. I wish I could share more.” He sprang to his feet, more nimbly than I’d expected. “Maybe I can, though. Come with me.”
I blinked. “Are we going somewhere? I’m hardly dressed for… well, anywhere.” There was nothing beneath my robe, for one thing. I’d given up on pajamas years ago.
Then Santa clicked his fingers, and we were standing in the snow, next to—
“Oh my God.” The sleigh was gleaming red, with a padded seat that looked supremely comfortable. I followed the black leather reins that looped over the front to…
Eight reindeer. Eight freaking reindeer. Their dark antlers were stark against the white landscape around them. Their coats were a mix of dark brown and white, not glossy, but coarse. Eight heads turned in my direction, eight pairs of liquid brown eyes met mine.
I was being studied.
“You knew how I get around, right?” Santa’s voice was laced with amusement.
“Sure, but actually seeing it? I mean, them?” I raised my hand. “Hey, ladies. Looking good there.”
The lead reindeer bobbed her head, and the sound that came from her?
I swear, she was laughing at me.
“Get in.”
It took a second or two for his words to sink in. “Excuse me?”
Santa pointed to the seat. “I said, get in. If you get cold, hold onto me. I’ve got enough heat for both of us.”
Then it hit me.
I was being invited to take a ride in Santa’s sleigh.
Twenty-three years fell away, and I felt as excited as the twelve-year-old boy who’d walked into his living room to see something that changed his life.
“Hell yeah.”
He climbed in, and I followed. I shivered, and he frowned. “You’re cold. I should have let you get dressed.”
“Of course I’m cold. I’m naked under here.” There was little risk of any part of my lower anatomy putting in an appearance. I was more concerned it would shrivel to the size of a walnut.
Santa’s cheeks pinked.
“But you did say you have heat enough for two,” I reminded him.
He put his arm around me. “We won’t go far, just a short trip this time.”
“This time?”
He grinned. “Trust me, you’ll be begging to do this again. And you know what? We probably will.” Then he pulled on the reins with both hands. “Let’s go, girls.”
There was snorting, huffing, chuffing, and Oh my God, we were flying. The world below fell away, and I clung to Santa, my fingers digging into the soft cloak, wishing his arm was still around me. The reindeer strained against their harnesses, heading upward into the black sky sprinkled with stars.
And there we were, flying over hills, fields, cities, some places clothed in darkness, others alight with streetlamps, windows, car headlights…
High above us, a plane crawled across the heavens, taking its passengers who knew where.
The reindeer slipped into a more comfortable speed, and Santa sat back, the reins in one hand.
Another shiver trickled through me, and he put his arm around me once more.
“Better?”
“Much.” Warmth radiated from him, and I laid my head on his shoulder, listening to the bells hanging from the harnesses that tinkled and chimed. I peered down, trying to fix our location, but the night pressing in on the land below made recognition difficult. “However do you find your way?”
He laughed. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I could do it blindfolded.” He glanced at me. “But this is a first.”
“You’ve never taken anyone else for a ride before?”
“Never.”
My chest swelled with pride. “Wow. You know how to make a guy feel good.” Then the solid earth below grew even more solid, and I realized we were coming in to land. “So soon?” I wanted to stay up there, to enjoy the magic a little longer.
To enjoy his arm around me.
“I said it would be a short trip.” He pulled up on the reins, the sleigh banked, and the reindeer dropped gracefully to the ground, landing on the disturbed snow from where they’d taken off.
He turned to me. “Did you like that?”
“No,” I announced with a straight face. Then I grinned. “I loved it. And now I can’t wait for next year.”
“I promise the next trip will be longer. And I’ll let you choose where we go.”
“Seriously?” All thoughts of Kris had fled, replaced with the memory of riding through the night sky, Santa’s arm around me.
His strong arm.
His warmth.
Despite the cold, my dick twitched, and it was in that moment I realized something important.
All the men I’d dated so far? All the ones I’d been attracted to?
They all looked like Santa.