Page 25 of All I Want for Christmas is You

There’s a fire lit in the bedroom fireplace, and I drift off so fast that I know when I wake up it’ll be like I’ve hardly closed my eyes but I’ll feel so rested. Truly feeling like a different person already.

Feeling like Mrs. Jack Cole?

The fading thought before sleep is enough to make me hug the sheets. And put a huge smile on my face.Before I even open my eyes I can hear Jack’s deep voice rumbling. A kind of melody that sounds like carols but I can tell singing isn’t his strong point.

By the time he wakes me fully, with another heavily laden breakfast tray of food and fresh coffee, he’s piped it down to a whistle.

But I’m sure I can hear…

I push the thought from my mind. All this Christmas stuff is getting to me maybe. Who hears real sleigh bells on Christmas morning?

“Merry Christmas,” Jack says cheerfully, kissing me way too long for a first thing in the morning kiss, but like everything about me, Jack doesn’t mind.

He really loves the whole package, just how it came out of the box.

He on the other hand is as fresh and perfect as ever, but there is something different about him this morning and I have to ask him if ever actually sleeps.

“More easily and longer with you around, Avery,” he admits thoughtfully. “I used to get by fine on four or five hours. The past few days it’s been more like six.”

I notice his brow crease as he looks at his watch.

“Something wrong?” I ask sleepily, watching him make a face. Gasping quietly as I notice the time myself.

It’s after eleven.

“I was just hoping we’d be up sooner, that’s all. I’m all ahead in the kitchen, but…” he trails off, not wanting to give away anything.

“By ‘we’ you mean me?” I groan, slumping back into the pillows. A pleasant, warm ache all over and inside reminding me of just how special yesterday was.

He leans over and kisses me again.

Then I feel it.

I poke his body through his shirt. It’s soft, like mine.

“Put on some Christmas pounds?” I ask, opening his collar enough to see… padding?

“Jack, if this is some kind of joke,” I warn him icily, sitting up and wondering what the hell.

But his look says it all, and once he pulls the white beard from his stuffing, I get it.

“I don’t mean to rush you baby but those reindeer don’t like to be kept waiting, see you in five?” he asks, glancing at his watch, then me, the breakfast tray, and the bathroom all in one cool movement.

Taking a mouthful of coffee, I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t know what you’re up to now Jack Cole… but I think I’ll probably cry again, won’t I?” I ask, setting aside a cream cheese bagel for after my shower, which I rush through if only to see what the man has planned next.

My outfit Jack’s laid out is classy casual, slacks and a cashmere sweater plus a woolen overcoat I could swear was tailored just for me.

“It was Avery, I told them your measurement from my mind… and from what I had between my teeth that day,” he smiles briefly, checking his watch again.

“Alright, alright!” I whine, completely forgetting it’s Christmas morning until I see Jack slipping into his coat and pants.

And beard.

And a red hat.

“What?” he asks, blowing some stray beard from his mouth as he hurries me up, mumbling something about being his busiest day of the year and needing to be back in time to turn the potatoes.

I feel my jaw drop, but there’s a part of me that actually wonders.

Is Jack Cole actually Santa Claus?

I shake the image in front of me from my mind, as realistic as it is.

Santa he’s not. Santa would never do half the things Jack Cole can.

He wouldn’t be allowed to.

If I think he looks the part, once we step outside and I see a sleigh waiting, complete with a half dozen actual reindeer, I hear myself wheeze with disbelief, wondering if I even woke up at all or am still back in bed dreaming.

“C’mon,” Jack urges me, patting the seat next to him and covering us both with a heavy woolen blanket.

He gives the cue to our driver, and in seconds we’re literally dashing through the snow filled streets of the city. As if Christmas morning has been made just for this trip.

Wherever we’re actually going, but Jack explains.

“I probably went overboard, but if we’re gonna have a real Christmas, I figure we both have some catching up to do,” he says loudly over the ringing of the sleigh bells, waving to the few people we pass in the street and bellowing a few hearty “ho-ho-ho’s” as they stand astonished.

I should feel embarrassed, stupid even. But I feel like Jack’s right.

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