Page 7 of Don't Go Bakin' My Heart Holiday

“Tell Santa what it is that you want for Christmas. Have you been a good boy all year?”

“I tried.” He shrugged. “Yes, Santa, I think I have been. Being an adult is complicated.”

“I think most adults would agree with you.”

“You sure I'm not hurting you?”

“I’m a very strong Santa, young man. Now, Percy, what is it that you want for Christmas this year? What can Santa do for you?”

Percy took a deep breath and looked at me before turning to Santa and whispering in his ear. Santa’s eyes twinkled with delight.

“That is a very good wish. I think it will come true, too.” Santa nodded happily.

“Thank you, Santa, or whoever you are under there. I thought I’d be able to tell, but… nope.”

“That’s because it’s all about belief. I think you believe much more than you let on. Merry Christmas, Percy.”

He stood up, and Santa gave him a candy cane.

“Merry Christmas, Santa.”

Percy walked back to me, and I grinned and kissed him gently on the lips. “What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you my wish. That’s between me and Santa.”

5

Percy

Itook the last batch of cookies out of the oven and turned it off. My counter was covered in decorated Santas and snowmen. The snowflakes and ornaments were already boxed up and in the cooler. Dozens of each cookie – which made decorating the cookies very, very boring. Of course, I had made an extra three dozen of the Santas. Those are the cookies that the kids would want.

Decorating sugar cookies was an art. If someone was going to pay three bucks for a cookie, the lines and colors had to be precise. One small mistake and the cookie was unsaleable. I had a tray of messes on the counter, and I had been lucky that there were only a handful. My mistake was my stomach’s gain.

A wish from Santa. How cute was that? Ben was, as always, surprising. It was very sweet that he wanted me to do that. I felt like a fool at first. But something about sitting on Santa’s lap broke the child free from my soul. I wished with all my heart. And as I sat there, I realized something important. I always hadthe power to make my wish come true. It was inside me all along, and Santa knew it.

I knew it, too. I was happy, and I needed to allow myself to be happy.

My wrists hurt. This kind of detailed work always made my wrists feel like they had been in a vise. Being a baker was not easy on the body. When I was done, I would have to ice my hands and wrists. If I could get these done in the next couple of hours, there would still be time for Ben and me to chat about what he asked me.

I had a gift for him, too. But I don’t think he would be surprised. Happy, yes. But he knew in his heart how I felt. I just needed to work out some stupid shit in my brain to get there. All it took was Santa.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Hi, handsome.” I turned to see Ben walking in with a bag from across the street. “What’s that?”

“I stopped by Tim’s and grabbed us a burger and fries. I thought you might be hungry or at least tired of eating cookies. That’s not very healthy for you, you know?” he chuckled.

“What? You’re a doctor now. Cookies are the best for whatever ails you. It’s science.”

“Except for diabetes.” He placed the bag on the counter by the tray of bad cookies.

“Smartass. That word cannot be uttered while I’m decorating sugar cookies.”

“Superstition?”

“No, just every baker’s fear. I think I can be done in a couple of hours. I’ll eat after if you don’t mind. Thank you, though. I just want to get this finished.” I picked up my bag and finished the snowman I had started. His little black nose was so cute!

“You want me to help flood?” He went and turned on the water in the sink to wash his hands.

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