“IloveDaddySanta.”
By the way his expression sobers up, it’s clear he knows I meanit.
“I love Santa’s amazing little helper,” he tells me, reaching up and grabbing the little green hat I have on, a small addition to my suit and tie, which otherwise makes me look like any otherguest.
“Your mom threw that on me because she said it lookedcute.”
“Well, Charlotte was right aboutthat.”
He takes my mouth once again. When he finally pulls away, he says, “Shit. I need to get out there, don’t I? And here all I want to do is keep being greedy for you.” He growls that deep, low growl, the one I’ve become so familiar with in all the time we’ve spent together—it’s his hunger and need for me personified into that perfect sound that makes me feel as though I’m all his, and there’s no better feeling in theworld.
“Now what did you need help with, DaddySanta?”
“Oh, I was just trying to sneak a little more time with you, but if you could check on Ty and the gang and make sure they are all staying afloat, that would begreat.”
“Everyone’s doing a phenomenal job, Jesse. You don’t have anything to stress about. It’s incredible what you’re doinghere.”
“I hope the kids like it.” I see the doubt in hisexpression.
“Hey, none of that. They’re all smiling, and we both know you can’t force kids tosmile.”
That makes him grin, and I seize the opportunity for anotherkiss.
When I pull back, he slides his beard up his face. “Okay, now get out of here so I can glue on mybeard.”
“Glue?”
“Yeah. You know those little guys are gonna be tugging away on it, so I gotta make sure I’m fully covered.Shoo!”
I burst into laughter, leaving him to prepare the final touches on his Santa Claus costume. Heading back down into the arena, I chat with Charlotte and Stan before I see Tricia arrive, Ty beside her. I imagine he must’ve slipped away from his post to help her find theplace.
As angry as I’ve been with Tricia in the past, as much frustration as we’ve shared over the years, seeing her with my son reminds me of why she’s in my life—the important bond we’ll alwaysshare.
I greet her, and we start catching up, the mood between us so different from that last time we saw each other, when we were locked in a heated debate about Jesse and me…and our relationship. This is much more pleasant, the usual sort of exchange, lacking in substance but catching up on the basics. We talk about our jobs briefly, and not long after, Connie arrives, and I spend some time introducing her around the room before I have to head back to my ownduties.
Along with the kids, the place is packed with suits, dresses, and ties. Contributors to the fundraiser are invited to enjoy the festivities with their families and friends, which is one of the ways that Jesse is able to put on this amazingevent.
The soft melody of “Walking in a Winter Wonderland” fills the air as Jesse makes his grand entrance, heading to the Santa workshop set up in one corner of the arena. He has a bag of toys draped over his shoulder, stuffed with presents donated for this event. I sidle up alongside him, escorting him with his friends, Kelly, Xavier, Ben, and Sam, who act as his elf helpers, making jokes and laughing at each other for how silly they look in their elvengetups.
While we get Jesse situated in an overly large red chair, some of the staff from the shelters line up their kids. Each shelter has a time slot for their meeting with Santa to keep a large line from forming and to maximize their ability to take advantage of the other parts of thefestival.
Jesse really has thought ofeverything.
Sam and Kelly escort kids up to Santa to sit on his lap, and Ty and I take turns playing photographer while Ben and Xavier chat up the kids waiting in line. Despite how many accuse my youthful-looking Jesse of being in disguise, he plays along with it, granting them their presents, which produce plenty of smiles. The older kids are even more amusing to watch respond to Jesse, though everyone had an option not to approach, especially those with any objections to visiting with Santa, either for religious reasons…or just because they think this whole damn thing is weird, as Ido.
At one point, Jesse has a little girl, maybe about seven, sitting on hislap.
“What’s your name?” heasks.
“Sandy!” she exclaims, beaming at him. She does a double take. “Are you reallySanta?”
“Yes, I am, of course. All the way from the North Pole.” Jesse’s overacting dramatically as he makes a voice much deeper than usual. “You want apresent?”
“Do you have a doll? I saw a girl with a little dollearlier!”
“Um…”
I see the panic in Jesse’s expression, this fear of not being able to make this one girl’s request come true, and it triggers my own worry. I hurry to the bag of toys and scour throughit.
