Chapter When I was forty （2007）
When I was forty
Santa settled back in the chair. “You’ve really done things with this place.
I like it.” The little house was just right for me.
I was close enough to the river I could hear it at night when the wind was still.
New Hope was an LGBTQ+-friendly place, with a sea of rainbow flags wherever you looked.
There were quaint shops, cafes, restaurants…
The commute to work wasn’t a drag, and I loved my job.
Everything was a win-win.
Well, not quite everything.
My once-a-year friend still visited, but he didn’t disclose anything about his life.
It was starting to worry me.
“So… the big four-oh.” Santa sipped his whiskey.
“I wasn’t sure what to expect, if I’m honest.” When he gave me an inquiring glance, I shrugged. “Don’t they say life begins at forty?”
“They do. Personally, I think it’s just another number. They tend to blur after a while.”
I cocked my head to one side. “Can you even remember being forty?”
He stared into his glass. “Yes, thanks to one of the things I sometimes curse about my existence—my crystal-clear memory.”
Dear God. “That’s a lot of memories to carry around.”
“A lot of other things too—regrets, hopes…”
My chest tightened. “What did you hope for when you were my age?” I rubbed my head. “Because I’d hoped I’d have more hair than this.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” His eyes twinkled. “I like it. And you still have your beard.”
“Yes, but there’s more gray in it. I was thinking of coloring it.”
Santa’s breathing caught. “Don’t you dare.”
I blinked. I hadn’t expected such a vehement objection. He likes the gray? He carried on drinking as though his reaction was perfectly normal.
“I believe I asked you a question.”
He nursed his glass in both hands. “I guess I hoped I’d be happy. In love.”
If he wasn’t going to be more forthcoming, I’d have to make the first move.
“Can I ask… How did this happen? I mean, becoming Santa Claus? I’m pretty sure you weren’t born Santa Claus.”
“No, no I wasn’t. But…” He swallowed. “I can’t talk about that. There are rules.”
“Seriously?” He nodded. “Who makes them?”
“I can’t talk about that either.”
“Are there rules about taking guys for a sleigh ride?” He coughed, and I gave a knowing nod. “I see. You bent one of those rules, didn’t you?”
Santa waved a hand. “It was fine. We stayed in this realm.”
Things had just gotten interesting.
“Then there’s another?”
He nodded again. “Yes, that’s where I exist, the other three hundred sixty-four days.”
There was no way I couldn’t have asked. “What’s it like?”
He rested his head against the seat cushion. “Time stands still there. Which can be awesome—or scary.”
I cleared my throat. “I know you don’t ever talk about this, but… tell me you’re not alone in that other realm. Tell me you have someone.”
“I’m not alone,” he assured me. “And yes, I have "workers”’.” He hooked his fingers. “But they’re not elves.” He fell silent.
“You’re not going to tell me what they are,” I declared.
“No. Rules, remember?”
“But you didn’t answer my question. Not being alone is not the same as having someone in your life.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed sharply. “I… I can’t talk about this, okay? Now, let’s change the subject. How are your parents? How’s Ben? Pete and Becca must be five by now. How are they finding life in Europe?”
I stared at him. “If you know about Ben’s job taking him to Europe, then you know exactly how old they are. And they’re all fine. Well…” My stomach clenched. What are you hiding from me? Is it so awful that you can’t share it? Not that he was the only one hiding things.
His brows knitted. “There seems to be some doubt in your mind.”
I should have known I couldn’t hide it.
“My mom… is going through some stuff. Health issues.”
He widened his eyes. “But she’s okay?”
“Yes. At least, I think so. She keeps telling me she’s got decades left. Which is great, because she’s only sixty-six.” Although I was beginning to wonder why she repeated this every time I saw her. “As for my dad… He’s the same as always. Both of them still drop hints.”
“What kind of hints?”
I smiled. “‘Have you tried some of those dating groups?’ ‘What about speed dating?’ ‘Ever thought of going on a cruise?’ They even tried to set me up with their doctor, when they discovered he was gay.”
“And? How did that go?”
I grinned. “He’s thirty-eight. How do you think it went?”
“I take it your taste in men hasn’t changed? Then I get it. We’ll say no more. So why are you here and not at your parents’ place?”
I smiled. “You went there, didn’t you? You know it’s empty.”
“I might have checked there first.”
“Mom and Dad are spending Christmas in Europe with Ben, Layla, and the kids. It was all Mom talked about for months.”
He tilted his head. “Has there been anyone since we last met?”
I bit my lip. “You ask that same question every year, you know.”
“I just want you to be happy.” He met my gaze. “I worry about you.”
It was an opening not to be ignored.
“Funny, because I worry about you too.”
“Why would you do that?”
I arched my eyebrows. “You need to ask that? You’re a man with secrets, and I can’t help but be concerned. I only get to see you one night a year. What if what I see on that night is a smokescreen? What if you spend the other three hundred sixty-four days in utter torment?”
He stared at me. “Has anyone ever told you that you suffer from an overactive imagination? And don’t think I missed the fact you didn’t answer my question.”
I said nothing for a moment, but sipped my whiskey, letting it warm me. I couldn’t tell him the truth, could I?
No man I’d met could hold a candle to the man in the red suit.
Finally I sighed. “There’s no one. At least, no one who’s stayed for more than a few weeks. I’ve become resigned to being a bachelor. Well… a bachelor with benefits.” And that was as much detail as I was prepared to share.
He wasn’t about to share details of his sex life with Mrs. Claus, right?
Except that thought led me down an unexpected path.
Does Santa still have sex?
It felt almost sacrilegious to think about Santa in the throes of passion, something akin to thinking about one’s parents having sex. Although… I shuddered to even contemplate such a cringeworthy event, but as for fantasizing about what lay beneath that red suit?
I’d lost count of how many times I’d done that in recent years.
He studied me in silence, then coughed. “It was a question I’ve never felt capable of asking you. I guess now I have my answer.”
“I’m still being safe,” I assured him. “You have nothing to worry about on that score. And I’m still using condoms.” Although I’d been following certain medical advances that might change that. I needed to do a little research first.
“I’m glad. That you’re being safe, I mean.”
I smiled. “And I’m glad you could stay this year.” That inquiring glance was back. “There have been a few times when you’ve hightailed it out of here—or wherever we happened to be.” What made it even more interesting were that those times coincided with nights when I wasn’t alone.
He glanced toward the window. “It’s such a beautiful night.”
I knew a change of subject when I heard it.
“A beautiful night for a sleigh ride?”
He beamed. “What a wonderful idea.” Then he cleared his throat. “Only… this year, do you think you could put on some clothes first?”
What stole across my mind was the memory of clinging to him the previous year—and my robe flapping open.
I still don’t know which of us had been more embarrassed—him at the sight of my dick bobbing in the stiff breeze, or me that it was considerably smaller than I would have wished.