Page 4 of Santa of the Creek
“Aren’t you a month early, Santa?”
I force my widest smile at the camera. “It’s a Jake’s tradition.”
“Password accepted. Come on in, Santa.”
The lock clicks and I push the door open to be greeted by Hebe Treeby. Hebe is the manager of the facility and, as far as I’m concerned, the most wonderful woman to walk the earth. Just never laugh at her name or we’ll have words. She’s also my aunt, Mom’s sister, and the one member of my family I speak to. She’s the only one who never cared I was gay. There’s a reason for that.
“Aunty Hebe!”
I pick her up and twirl her around.
She splutters and laughs and pushes me away from her. “You are a rascal, Echo Masters.”
“I know.”
“Or should I call you Santa Echo?”
“Hush.” I pretend to look around. “We don’t want anyone to think I’m not the real Santa.”
“We wouldn’t want anyone to think that,” Hebe says solemnly, then spoils it with a giggle. She stands on tiptoe and kisses the only part of my cheek not covered in the hat. “Thanks for agreeing to stand in for Randy.”
“You sent Deputy Ben who sent Gloria after me, Aunty. Did I have a choice?”
“Probably not,” she admits. “She’s a force of nature. But it was Deputy Ben who thought you’d be a great Santa.”
Of course he did.He probably has a camera watching me so he can laugh.
I heave the sack onto my back. “Come on then, Santa has a job to do.”
“Dean’s waiting for you in the lounge.”
I stumble, nearly ending up on my knees. She giggles as she catches my arm.
“Careful, Santa. You don’t want to break your leg.”
“Dean Hobart is here already?” I hiss.
She gives me an innocent look that I know from experience is fake. “Don’t you need a ride back to town?”
“Aunty, don’t you give me that look. I know you. You could have given me a ride. Why is Dean here?”
“He’s hosting the bingo session.”
“I didn’t know he volunteered.”
“He volunteers here a lot. He’s a sweetheart.”
I’ve been busy lusting after him and bemoaning the fact that he’s Narnia-deep in the closet, but really, I don’t know much about the guy.
“Hebe, the residents are getting impatient. Santa’s holding up the bingo afternoon. Oh…”
The man who has haunted more than one of my dreams stares at me, and I return his gaze with interest. We are about the same height. He has a few years on me, although I know he’s younger than the mayor. Dressed in a cream sweater and tight black jeans, his dark hair neatly styled, he looks frankly edible…and I look like a thrift store Santa Claus in a padded suit with a tickly beard, and a cushion stuffed down my pants.
Aunty Hebe takes my arm. “Come on, Santa. You can’t hold up bingo. They’ll never let you forget it.”
“Lead on, Aunty. I’ve got to get back to the North Pole and help the elves.”
She giggles. Dean stares at me like I’ve lost my marbles.
