Page 24 of Sexted By Santa
“Go,” Jaxson said with a nod. “We don’t want to make you late.”
“Thanks.”
“Remember, Professor, it’s all in the delivery. You’ve got this.”
Instead of chafing, his words of advice warmed me. I could do this. Iwoulddo this. I’d go into that homeless shelter, and I’d ho-ho-ho with feeling.
Even an old grinch could learn new tricks, right?
* * *
“I tried,” I moaned two hours later. “I really, really tried.”
Aunt Henry tsked and slid another plate of chocolate cheesecake in front of me. This time, she’d made good on her promise and had supplies ready when I arrived. I’d gone through half a bottle of red wine, and I was savoring the contrast of creamy chocolate cheesecake with the fruity Ruby port. Maybe they shouldn’t go together, but I loved the pairing. Maybe because I was so contrarian by nature.
“I went in there, and I wasfullof holiday cheer,” I said. “I bellowed, Henry. I mean, I bellowed ‘Merry Christmas,’ not ‘Henry.’”
“I knew what you meant,” she said with a little chuckle. “I knew you’d do better.”
I moaned theatrically. “I don’t know if better is the right word.”
“What happened?”
I sighed. It had all been going so well. I’d marched into the shelter, bag over my shoulder, smile affixed to my face, and called out, “Merry Christmas, everyone!”
The children had gasped and clapped, then circled around me, their parents lingering on the fringes of the gathering. A few other adults watched from a distance. I’d greeted them, then started to tell them a Santa Claus story, which…admittedly, maybe I let drag on too long. When one of them asked if I was really Santa—being the terrible liar I am, I said, “No, my real name is Chris Kringle.”
There was a brief, tense silence, followed by a ten-year-old with quite the potty mouth saying, “Did you hear that? This guy is a goddamned con artist! I knew you were too skinny to be the real Santa!”
His little sister started to cry. Another little boy, about three years old, followed suit.
“No, no, no! Chris Kringle is another name for Santa,” I tried to explain. “Like St. Nick, right? Santa goes by many names.”
A few parents stepped in to stop the hysterics as I continued to frantically give examples of Santa’s legend, and when one of them suggested we move on to the gifts, I eagerly agreed. The presents did brighten the children’s faces. Most of them had been more confused than anything, and they were happy to accept their parents’ whispered encouragement. But the potty-mouth, whom I learned was named Jake, continued to give me the stink eye.
I did my best to rally. I sangthreesongs, which some of the kids joined, but it was an awkward affair as I grew more flustered. Eventually I had to admit defeat and leave with a “ho-ho-ho” that was a sad shadow of my original greeting.
“Perhaps I’m just destined to be a terrible Santa,” I said morosely.
“Nonsense, dear. You brought a bit of color and cheer to their lives. That’s why we do this. Some of those kids would have received no gifts at all. You don’t have to be perfect.”
I pulled a face. Making children cry wasn’t reallycheer, was it? But I suppose they had liked the gifts. Even sullen Jake had eventually opened his and shown it to his mother. He’d smiled, then caught himself and sent me a suspicious glare, but for a second there, he’d been happy.
Was that enough? To make someone happy for a second?
It didn’t feel like it. But maybe it was a start.
“Oh, good news,” Aunt Henry said. “Paul thinks he might be able to shuffle his schedule around and cover the hospital for you.”
“Who’s Paul?”
“Our other Santa volunteer. He’s been doing some events, as well. He’s doing the Christmas parade and he’s visiting the Rainbow Center. Um, let’s see…” She tapped a finger to her lips. “Oh yes, he’s working the winter festival too. Raising awareness for the foundation with the adults and giving out candy canes to the children.”
I gasped, feeling betrayed. “You gave him the easy stuff.”
“What?”
“The parade? The winter festival?” I flailed an arm. “Those are events with lots of distractions. So much easier than having all eyes on you and being expected to entertain a crowd by yourself! He can say a quick ‘ho-ho-ho!’ and hand over a candy cane. And the Rainbow Center…why wouldn’t you give me that one?”
