He rolls his eyes. “Believe me, I know. Why do you think I tried so hard to be straight? Now that I’m out, even my own parents would rather talkaboutme than talktome. I don’t think they have said more than ten words to me since we canceled the wedding.”
“Jesus, and here I thought my parents were bad.” Archer holds a hand out to Frederick. “I’m Archer. Thought I should introduce myself since these two are busy getting reacquainted. And this is Lincoln.” He shakes Frederick’s hand, then picks up Lincoln’s and holds it out to do the same. The relief from seeing Archer accepting my ex-fiancé and our strange relationship leaves me giddy.
“Lincoln. Say hello to your Uncle Frederick,” I blurt with a grin before turning to Webster, “and your Uncle Webster.”
Webster’s eyes get shiny and he fans his face with his hands while Frederick coos to Lincoln and makes goofy faces, and I know I made the right decision. Before Webster and I were ever together, I knew he’d be great with kids. For a while I thought he’d be the father of my future children, but having him act as an uncle to Lincoln is better somehow.
“Are you serious, Phoebe? Do I really get to be an uncle?” He eyes me hopefully while sneaking glances at Lincoln. “Are you sure?”
Until today, I’d been afraid to see Webster in person, scared it would dredge up too many thoughts of hurt and abandonment. I didn’t want to have him act as an uncle to my child when I wasn’t sure I could be around him without it being weird. But it’s not weird. Well, notthatweird, and I’m sure it will get easier. He’s been my best friend for nearly twenty-five years, after all.
“Of course I’m sure, Webster. You’re family.”
He chokes out a sob and wraps his arms around me, squeezing for all he’s worth. “Thank you, Phoebe. You don’t know how much this means to me. I thought I’d lost you forever. That you’d never forgive me.”
I bury my face in his shoulder. “Of course I forgive you. You’re my best friend. I can’t stay mad at you. Even if youdidleave me at the altar.” I wrap my arms around him and squeeze before pulling back with a smile. “Seriously though, does Frederick know that you’re a runner?” I tease in a stage whisper.
“Ahh, so rude,” he gasps, then chuckles. “I missed you so much,” he says again.
“Oh, here comes Santa.” Frederick pulls Webster to his side. “This is going to be so cute for our socials.” The two of them tilt their heads together and start whispering excitedly, so I turn to face Archer to give them some privacy.
“Ready, Phoebe?” Archer asks. “Time for Lincoln’s first Santa Claus pictures.”
A quick look behind us tells me that while we were talking, several more groups of people joined the line-up to visit Santa Claus. It looks like we were right to get here early. If we’d waited any longer to come, there’s no way we’d have gotten out of here in time for Lincoln’s nap.
A kind-looking older woman dressed like a pretty fairy version of Mrs. Claus comes over to where we’re standing in line. Instead of the dress, apron, and bonnet you normally see on the wife of the big guy, she’s wearing a flowing dress made of multiple layers of gauzy material, with a sweater over top that almost hints at wings with the way it folds over her back. Her face has a youthful blush about it, and the smile she gives us is welcoming.
“Good morning. Welcome to Kris Kringle’s Holiday Wonderland. And who do we have here?” She bends to get close to Lincoln’s face. “Looks like we have a first-timer. Is this your first Christmas, young man?”
“It sure is,” I say. “We’re here for our first Santa pictures.”
“Oh, no, sweetheart. This is Kris Kringle, not Santa.” Fairy Mrs. Claus—Mrs. Kringle, actually, I guess—says, her voice suddenly serious. “But we will take pictures. And I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s Kris’s first time, too. Isn’t that a wonderful coincidence?”
“Oh, uh. Yeah. Sorry.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Her voice takes on its former sing-song quality. “Not everyone knows there’s a difference.”
“There’s a difference?” Archer asks. “I thought it was only a different name?”
“Oh, well, yes. Essentially. But it’s still quite interesting.”
Archer turns to me to widen his eyes in acan you believe this chick? sort of look. I fight to contain the chuckle that threatens to burble up. Luckily, I’m saved by the jolly laugh of Kris Kringle as he makes his entrance through a wall of fairy lights and greenery.
“Who’s ready to see Kris Kringle?”
My heart swells with anticipation. The setting is so beautiful, and Kris Kringle looks so magical, that I know we’re going to have amazing pictures. I take a moment to straighten Lincoln’s ugly Christmas sweater before Archer places Lincoln on Kris’s lap. Lincoln is alright for a moment, but that’s before he turns and catches sight of Kris Kringle smiling down at him…and he immediately bursts into hysterical ear-splitting screams. And he doesn’t. stop. screaming. For five straight minutes. We try everything we can think of to distract him, using toys, bottles, keys, phones, and our own faces, but nothing works.
“That’s it. I can’t work like this.” Kris passes Lincoln back to me. “Cancel the photo shoot. The mood is ruined.”
“I am so sorry.” Archer is trying to console Kris while I shush Lincoln and bounce him in my arms. “I don’t think you need to cancel the rest of the day, though. That’s not fair to the rest of the people who came to visit you.”
“Fine. Fine. But I need a break before I can see the rest of these people.” Kris turns to his fairy helper. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes. Please let the people in line know. And please tell the parents and friends of thatbabythat I won’t be seeing them at all.”
A twin gasp behind me tells me exactly which friends he’s talking about.
“No, Kris. Come back. Please. We wanted this photo for a Christmas engagement announcement. It will only take a minute. We’ll wait.” Webster tries to follow the man back behind the curtain of lights and greenery, but the fairy helper puts an arm out and stops him.
“I’m sorry, sir. You heard him. May I suggest a mall Santa? I’m sure the Santa at the Westborough mall will be there until the end of the day.” She pats Webster’s hand and reaches over to touch Frederick’s arm before following Kris Kringle behind the curtain of lights.
