He chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he looked around at his friends. They’d all seen the nail marks on him the next day and listened patiently as he talked about her for weeks after. Jack and Soren had helped him polish up the song, and they’d worked tirelessly for a week with Fletcher as he turned his lyrics into something beautiful. In the studio, the producers asked them multiple times if they thought releasing a rock ballad was in their best interest. It was so completely out of their repertoire, but his friends had been certain.
None of them could have predicted that it would go on to be their biggest hit, win them two Grammys and stay on the Billboard Top 100 Chart for an entire year.
Clearing his throat, Fletcher raised his glass to his friends. “I’m glad we could spend at least one holiday together this year.”
“Is it sad that we only see each other once a year?” Soren asked, topping off everyone’s drinks.
“The last time I suggested meeting for birthdays and other big holidays, a certain someone laughed at me,” Brandy countered, narrowing her eyes at Soren.
“That’s way too many times to see each other. We took a sabbatical for a good reason.”
Fletcher snorted. “Let’s stick to once a year and then go from there.”
“Fourth of July next year?” Jack asked, extracting himself from the arms of his young girlfriend, and arched an eyebrow at the group.
A round of confirmation went up and Fletcher thanked his lucky stars that everything was solid between them. Two years after the sabbatical, Brandy went through her transition surgery and all of them gathered to help her through recovery. In the years since, they’d met a few times even though the intention was to meet more often. But with all the changes in their lives, it became impossible. The fact that they were consciously planning for a future together comforted Fletcher. Micah coming back into his life was another sign that the future was looking brighter.
“Fletcher Claus is back in town!”
He groaned at the excited cheer as he walked into the office for the town’s event planner, Jensen Mars.
“Four years and we’re still not making that a thing.”
“Why not? It’s perfect. You’re Fletcher and you’re Santa Claus. Fletcher Claus,” Jensen explained, like it was not completely obvious already. “Besides, it’s what everyone here calls you anyway.”
“Unbelievable,” Fletcher muttered and settled into the chair in front of Jensen’s very messy desk. After Thanksgiving with the band, Fletcher returned to Sirena Beach and his duty as Santa for the holiday season. Every year since Uncle Hank had volunteered him for the job, he had been visiting Jensen in his office to discuss plans for Santa’s Village. It was a tiring job and coupled with running the store, he was usually run off his feet by the time Christmas actually rolled around. And still, he did it. Mostly to honor Hank, but also because there was a certain kind of joy to be found when kids looked at you like you hung the fucking moon.
At first they put him in Uncle Hank’s incredibly uncomfortable suit with a fake belly and everything. Then he protested—he would play Santa, but without the wildly offensive outfit. So they got the kids of the town to pick and choose what kind of Santa they wanted to see that year. His second year, he’d been Dino Santa and wore a slightly less uncomfortable T-Rex suit with a Santa hat on top. Halfway through that Christmas, Fletcher had insisted on Santa being able to wander around the Village instead of staying seated the whole time. So he traded the Dino suit for pajamas with dinosaurs wearing Santa hats and the kids loved it. Last year the kids had voted for elves, instead of Santa, so Fletcher had dressed up like Buddy from Elf. It had been okay, except for the constant wedgie he got from wearing those damn tights.
Being at the whim of the town’s kids was a little daunting, but Fletcher liked that everyone got so involved in the celebration.
“What disastrous look are we going for this year?”
Jensen rolled his eyes and set a mason jar filled with colorful strips of paper on his desk. “The folks of Sirena Beach have spoken and this year you will be…” he picked up a pink strip, unrolled it and laughed, “Rockstar Santa.”
“Hilarious,” Fletcher grumbled playfully, his mind already thinking of fun ways to bring that outfit to life. Hank’s tailor had been disappointed by the T-Rex suit and the Buddy costume, so maybe the old lady would be happy to stitch something worthy of a rockstar for him that year.
“Come on, this is totally up your street. Besides, it also means you don’t have to put too much effort into your clothes.”
Fletcher had to admit that was definitely appealing. He could wear his standard uniform of darks and flannel, adding a Santa hat or something else to the mix every now and then. It was only for three weeks, walking around Santa’s Village and interacting with people. He could totally do it in his sleep.
“I have full control over my outfit this year, right?”
“Well…” Jensen trailed off and gestured vaguely towards the mayor’s office. “She has final say, really. But I trust you.”
Shaking his head, Fletcher pushed to his feet. Pictures from the Christmases past hung up around Jensen’s office. He was damn proud of his work and Fletcher could see why. There were some from the years Hank had been Santa, always in that god-awful suit. There were pictures from other events hosted around town and Fletcher was surprised that not even once had he run into Micah and Emery.
“Quick question,” Fletcher said, turning back to Jensen. “You know Micah?”
“George? At Haven?”
Fletcher frowned. “Those are words I don’t understand.”
“Micah George, works at Haven Clinic. Yeah, I know her. Why?”
“I’m giving her kid music lessons.”
Jensen nodded slowly, like he didn’t believe a damn thing Fletcher was saying. “Right. And it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s drop dead gorgeous.”