2. Toby
2
TOBY
“You want me to dress up as a what ?”
“A Christmas fairy,” Aggie states. I narrow my eyes, looking for any sign that I'm being punked by the Sunday School Sallys. Because really, a fairy?
“ Aww, Tobes. You should see your face,” my wife Dee aka Skippy says. “I think you'd make a cute fairy.”
I turn my incredulous expression to my soulmate. “You do?”
She nods. “Ah huh.” And if the look on her face is anything to go by, my wife is thinking up other uses for the costume.
“I'd make a better Santa. Ho Ho Ho'in’ and rubbin' my belly,” I reply.
“I see that too,” Aggie says, looking me up and down. I've grown used to her checking me out now. When my brother Landry and I go into town to do the Sunday School Sally's yard work, she thinks she's being clever by telling us to take our shirts off to 'make sure we don't get too hot.' She's a cheeky nana who likes to watch her favorite ranchers do manual labor.
“So, you'll be Santa then?” Ruthie asks.
“Is this for the Christmas Fair or somethin'?”
“Nope. It's a secret holiday mission,” Miss Frankie says. Now I'm really intrigued.
“Wait,” I say, sitting bolt upright. “Are we defendin' our Holly Jolly Cup? Because I'm in. I'm so in.”
Ruthie, Aggie, and Dee all grin. “It's not, but let's just say that you'll be usin' everythin' you learned and puttin' it to good use in the name of Christmas givin',” Ruthie explains.
I look to Dee with a raised brow, checking that my One is on board with whatever I'm about to agree to. That's what smart married men do, of course. She nods and when I turn back to the waiting Sunday School Sallys, I'm beaming. “Sign me up. We're in.”
Ruthie grins. “You're a good man, Toby Graham. All we need to do now is hope that the rest of your family feels the same way.”
“Wait… what have I just agreed to?”
“We're goin' on a Christmas adventure, young Toby. And we're takin' Christmas with us,” Aggie says.
“We are?”
Ruthie rubs her hands together. “Oh yeah.”
“Do I get to know where we're goin' then?” I'm beyond curious now.
“Once everyone's on board, we'll hold a planning meetin'. Until then, make sure you keep the week before Christmas free. We'll be hittin' the road on the 18th of December and comin' home Christmas Eve.”
“OK… but I get to be Santa right? Not a Christmas fairy?” I ask, wanting to make sure that I'm not being roped into something fishy. We all love the Sunday School Sallys but they have been known to be sneaky and naughty.
Ruthie stands, holding out her hand to shake mine. “You have my word, Tobes. Whatever happens, whatever you have to do, you'll be Santa.” With her assurance, we seal it with a handshake and a smile. “Now, you're gonna help me with the rest of the ranchers. And you're drivin'.”
Dee giggles and sidles up next to me, snuggling into my chest right where she belongs. “I think you've just been Sallied,” she whispers.
“Why me?” I ask.
“That's easy, Toby. You're the Christmas fairy,” Aggie states.
“Santa!”
She waves her frail fingers in the air. “Yeah, yeah. Same thing. Let's go. You've got a family meetin' to call.”