Page 12 of Kit
I longed to tell him. But I promised myself and Mr. Winterbourne I wouldn’t reveal myself until after Christmas.
“I’m from the North Pole. I drive a fancy red sleigh pulled by magical flying reindeer. I’m Santa Claus.”
When I’d come to the club as me to look for Kit, I’d had it planned out. I would meet him as if for the first time, ask him out, and not reveal I was Santa until much later. Would he figure it out? Probably. He was a smart one.
“Now I’ve told you about myself,” I said. “Tell me a little bit about you.”
He shrugged, still hugging his present. “Not much to tell.”
“Hmm. I think differently.”
“I love Christmas. I work at a tech firm. And I’m looking for guidance.”
He’d spoken about needing guidance last week. That intrigued me.
But there was one piece of new information. He had a job. Sounded like a good job. Good for him. I was impressed. A lot of littles were looking for sugar daddies. And there were a lot of daddies happy to oblige. I had nothing against any of them. But Kit went up a notch in my estimation of him.
“Hey!”
A man’s loud voice interrupted my thoughts. Kit jerked in surprise on my lap.
I looked up to see a line forming again.
“How long are you going to take with that boy, Santa? You in love or something? We’re waiting for our turn, too, you know.”
“Oops.” Kit’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t mean to take up all your time, Santa.”
“Just finishing up here,” I called. “Merry Christmas and merry patience.”
Kit giggled.
Another man behind the first hustled up. “If he’s sweet on the kid, let him be.”
“Everyone gets a turn on Santa’s lap,” I said.
As I spoke, Kit slid down to the floor. “Thank you for my special toy, Santa. I’ll treasure and sleep with it. I’ll never let it out of my sight.”
He went happily hopping down the step to the floor and headed toward the stairs where I knew the littles playroom was.
My heart thumped hard. Something in my chest opened up, yearning for him to return. It was as if I was suddenly missing something very important.
The next man in line was muscular. Heavy. He sat hard in my lap nearly causing me to double over. I kept my calm and said, “Merry Christmas. What’s your name little boy?”
He grinned.
No one was too big or too old not to be enamored by that question.
5
Kit
Ihugged my floppy dog hard as I walked into the playroom. I meant what I’d said to Santa. I would treasure this toy. It was perfect. Exactly the sort of stuffy I loved.
How did Santa know?
I laughed at myself. It was a great coincidence. He wasn’t the real Santa. Just somebody who played a part very well. And who had remembered me.
Immediately, Miles, a little I sometimes did puzzles with, came up to me.
