Page 45 of Kit
“Santa down my chimney any time.”
It sounded dirty. Naughty. But his innocent gaze on mine told me he was sincere. He wanted me.
“The feeling is mutual, baby boy.”
I reached for my bag and handed him a stuffed bear with a Santa hat. He grabbed it and held it to his chest like it was gold.
“Thank you, Santa. Merry Christmas.” He started to slide off my lap, turned as his feet hit the stage floor, and added, “I love you, Santa.”
The crowd nearest to the stage heard him and laughed and cheered.
My mouth dropped open behind my beard. Air caught in my throat. That was a heartfelt sentiment, not just a standard line to say to Santa Claus. Wasn’t it?
He grinned and skipped down the step, hurrying back to his seat at the bar.
I barely saw or heard the next person in line who wanted everything for Christmas, it seemed, including ten photos of himself in different positions on my lap, and a bear.
All I could do was nod and keep saying, “Yes, yes.”
I kept looking at Kit. I could barely concentrate. The clock said eleven. I still had two hours of this gig before it was up.
It was the longest two hours of my life.
Sometimes, the lineup ended, and I had a few minutes reprieve. During one lull, Kit brought me a whisky. I didn’t ever drink on a job. But I took a few sips before handing it back.
Kit said, “I love watching you work. You’re the very best Santa ever.” He held tightly to his bear. It was his first Santa gift, technically. The first time we met I’d run out of toys. The second time his special toy I’d bought just for him was stolen. This one was going home with us.
A few guys noticed Kit’s attention on me. They joked around a little.
“Is that Santa’s boy?”
“Is Santa also a daddy?”
If they discovered my identity after the gig, that was fair. I only wanted it secret until Christmas.
When it was finally time to roll up the Christmas carpet, Kit was waiting for me by the employee door to the locker room and break room.
He watched me take off the beard and belly and cap. Then he threw his arms around me and said, “Daddy, I’m so proud.”
All the way home, I couldn’t forget the “I love you, Santa” statement.
It was late and we were both tired when we went to bed. Kit wanted to sleep naked again. So did I.
Standing naked in my walk-in closet, I carefully hung up the costume. Before I finished, Kit grabbed the Santa coat.
“Not this.”
“What?”
“I want you to put it on. Like a robe, Daddy.”
“Why?”
“I want to play with Santa one more time before you put it away. For Christmas.”
I raised my eyebrows at him but said nothing as he led me to our bed.
“Please lie back, Daddy.”
