Page 92 of Sexted By Santa
Oh, it might? Too bad we’re not doing gifts.
Damn. He got me there.
Christian and I had agreed we didn’t want to put the pressure of gift-giving on a new relationship, though he’d persuaded me to let him get something for Tori.
Well, we agreed no monetary gifts. This would be more…a gift of the heart.
Not sure the heart is what you’re after there.
Our banter carried on until Agnes, the worst gossip in residence, returned to her room from breakfast.
“Something’s got you smiling. Is it Bert’s daughter?”
I quickly pocketed my phone and balled up the dirty sheets I’d stripped off her bed before remaking it. “No, it’s not Bert’s daughter.” I shook my head. “You shouldn’t spread rumors.”
My attempt at sternness was ruined by fond exasperation. Her eyes sparkled. “If you tell me who it is, I can spread the truth instead.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
She laughed. “You betcha!”
It was nice to see a smile on her face again. She’d been a little dispirited since her granddaughter had stopped in with her two kids the day before. They’d all shared an uncomfortable half hour visiting. Agnes enjoyed seeing her family, even when it was a strain, but she felt their absence more keenly once they’d gone.
If a little gossip about my personal life cheered her up, I didn’t have the heart to refuse.
“I’ll tell you, if you promise to stop suggesting I’d date Bert’s daughter.”
“But she’s sweet on you!”
I laughed that off. These women had little else to do but match-make. It wasn’t the first time a resident had tried to set me up—sometimes with a relative, sometimes with another employee. One misguided gal had even suggested Doris was eyeing me up. That was an incredibly uncomfortable day or two until Doris had gotten her to see reason. My boss and I werenotin any way interested in one another like that.
“It’s not her,” I assured Agnes.
She shuffled over to her chair, and I helped her ease down into it. Her eyes were fixed on me with interest. “Then who is it? Who’s making you so happy these days?”
I smiled. “Remember that Santa who came to visit earlier this month?”
Agnes looked puzzled for a minute. “I guess so. What does that stuffy old guy have to do with anything?”
I laughed. “Hey, watch who you’re calling old. I’m dating him.”
Agnes’s stunned look and squeal of dismayed outrage were enough to carry me through the next hour, until I got another text update from Christian.Everything’s good. We’ll bring you lunch.
When they arrived, I led them to my break room, and we all sat around an old, scratched card table. “So, how’s it going?”
“Everything’s fine,” Tori said. “Stop worrying.”
“Did I say I was worrying?”
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s all you ever do.”
Wow. Apparently she was eight going on a pissy thirteen today. I knew she was chafing lately with my concern for her health, but I thought we’d gotten past that hurdle when I let her stay with Madison and take charge of her own insulin management more often.
“We’ve had fun this morning,” Christian said with a sympathetic smile as he unpacked the brown paper bag containing sandwiches and soup.
To my surprise, it wasn’t from a restaurant.
“Did you make this?”
