Page 21 of Make You Mine This Christmas
“There are definitely folks who take it really seriously and are territorial of the yearly gigs and connections they’ve made. But most of us are there because we want to feel good about what we do, professionally or as a side gig, and want to spread the joy.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry for making a joke. You definitely don’t want Santa to be a cranky guy or a drunk.”
“Another perk of being involved in more professional Santa organizations, like the schools. Those who are in the know look for vetted professionals to avoid those types of awkward scenarios. Bad cookies can still slip through, or people go through hard times, of course, but it helps.”
We’re silent as we cross into Winterberry Glen. Once again, I take in the great job they’ve done of decorating the streets.
“They’ve asked me to consider doing some lectures next summer,” I say quietly. It’s the first time I’ve told anyone. “They want me to talk a little bit about how I started the charitable arm of my business, so others can consider it, even on a much smaller scale.”
“Brody, that’s awesome. I really think you’re doing something great with your charity—kids are getting the joy from meeting you and also getting access to other resources at the same time, without even knowing it.”
I nod. “I had the means to make it happen. I wanted to do some good for once, after feeling so bad for so long.” We’re parked now, and Austin waits quietly to see if I’ll continue. After a few moments, he breaks the silence, clearing his throat.
“Well, let’s go get your suits looked at and start a load of your clothes. You can do a search to see which dry cleaners have the processes you’ll need, and then I can vet if they’re trustworthy or not.”
We go up and get started. The suits are in great shape, thanks to the heavy-duty bags I keep them in. I still want to get them cleaned, along with the one I’ve been wearing for the past few days, to be sure no musty smells creep in. Austin approves one of the places I find, right down the street, and promises we can go first thing in the morning and get a same-day job from them. Turns out, while he never worked there, he did work for the auto shop the family owns a few years back, so they’ll give him as many favors as he wants.
Leftovers from last night’s chicken have been cleared and we’re sitting on the couch, each with a beer in hand. Austin gave me the remote and didn’t complain when I put on a Hallmark Christmas movie. I’d go as far as to say he’s even enjoying the hijinks of three brothers trying to care for a baby dropped off on their front porch.
“Why don’t you have a Christmas tree?” I ask during the next commercial break. “Or any decorations, really?”
He shrugs, taking a sip of his beer, his lips curling tantalizing around the long neck bottle. “I typically spend Christmas at my mom’s and we decorate there. I’m usually at the Christmas tree farm for such long hours too—I get my fill of pine.”
“But you’re not there this year?” I ask. Austin asked a follow-up question last night, so I’m choosing to believe those are in play for this unofficial game of Twenty Questions we’re volleying back and forth.
Austin picks at the label on his bottle. “No. They needed to downsize after the fall festival. I had seniority with how many years I’ve worked for them, but a young kid needed a job more. I asked them to give it to him instead.” He shrugs, like willingly putting himself out of a job in the middle of winter is no big deal. I wouldn’t have expected him to do anything else.
“We should go get you a tree tomorrow. Is the lot open? I’ll pitch in.”
He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say I can’t afford a tree.”
I put a hand on his arm, hoping I didn’t offend him. “No, I know. But I meant I’m staying in your space, rent free, and I’m the one suggesting you decorate. I can pitch in.”
“You were staying at Jitters rent free too, right? Would you have helped Susie get a tree?”
“If I believed an iota of undecorated space existed in Jitters to put a tree, absolutely I would.” We both laugh—I can’t say for sure, but I imagine Susie starts decorating on November first.
“And you want to decorate a tree, do more Christmassy stuff on your day off?” His eyes meet mine then, and I read the doubt in his eyes he’s not saying. Is it smart, is it safe, for us to do such a domestic thing together?
I keep my tone light. “C’mon, I’m a professional Santa. Of course I want to help decorate.” Our eyes stay locked, and I hope he reads in them what I’m not saying. For you, Austin? I’ll do anything.
Epistolary Interlude #1
Cole
When were you planning on telling me Brody is staying at your place?
Austin
Um, right now? I guess. I honestly thought you already knew.
Cole
How would I already know if my best friend doesn’t tell me anything?
Austin
...
