Page 5 of Santa of the Creek
“Look who’s come to visit,” she calls out to the residents in the lounge. “What a surprise.”
“It’s hardly a surprise, Hebe,” an elderly woman with mauve hair says acerbically. “He turns up on the same day every year. Why he can’t come closer to Christmas, I don’t know.” She squints at me over the rim of her glasses. “You’re not Santa.”
“Now then, Brenda,” Aunty Hebe starts.
I hold up my hand and wander over to Brenda, bending down to whisper, “What gave it away?”
“Randy doesn’t need the padding.”
This is true. My boss is more rounded in the gut than me, hence the cushion.
She eyes me critically. “He fills out the suit.”
“I was a late substitute from the North Pole.”
“You mean he ran away so Gloria conned you into helping because Dean hates Christmas.”
I hear two strangled coughs behind me. I turn to see Dean and Aunty Hebe staring at us.
“Quit hogging Santa, Brenda. You’re too old for him,” a man says from his wingback seat by the window.
“Santa is over 1700 years old,” Dean says.
We all turn to look at him and he flushes.
“I looked it up,” he mumbles, avoiding my gaze.
“That makes him way older than me,” Brenda crows as she gives me a speculative look.
I hold my hands up. “I’m sorry Brenda, I’m afraid my heart is already taken by Mr. Claus.”
The last thing I need is an entanglement of the female kind. I’m strictly of the mister variety.
Brenda sniffs. “Typical.”
Did Dean look disappointed for a moment? Then I processed what I’d said. Did he think I was attached. Is he interested in me? I catch his gaze, and he goes a delightful shade of pink.
Interesting!
“Santa, it’s time you delivered the presents,” Hebe says. “We don’t want to delay the bingo session.”
Oh yeah, I have a job to do other than stare at the pretty man.
I dip into the sack to pull out a gift, pink for girls, blue for boys, and hand it to Brenda with a flourish. “Merry Christmas, Miss Brenda.”
I expect a sarcastic remark but instead she smiles at me. “Merry Christmas, young man…Santa.”
I nod and move onto the next resident. Most seem happy to receive a gift even if they are toiletries and covered in wrapping with Randy’s logo in silver on the pink and blue paper. I know because I was designated present wrapper this year. Hebe introduces me to each resident, and we make special trips to residents not well enough to join the crowd in the lounge.
I don’t mind admitting by the time we circle back to the entrance I am ready for a cool soda and to put my feet up. I’m sweltering in the suit.
Aunt Hebe beams at me. “Thank you, Echo. You did so well.”
I’m not sure how I could have gotten it wrong, but I’m glad she’s pleased.
“Dean will drive you home. Dinner as usual on Monday?”
“See you then, Aunt Hebe.”
