Page 31 of Playing Santa

We’ve overslept and it’s late and we both need to get going, so we spend no time discussing our night, or what’s happened or what it means to our relationship. What the hell is our relationship? We’re supposed to be employer—employee, right? And he’s supposed to be Jimmy’s mentor?

The dread of screwing that up forces me to dress frantically and keep my mouth shut.

He drops me and Jimmy off at our apartment on his way to the stadium and I rush inside my small place as if the boogey man is chasing me. Thankfully, I have the distraction of getting Jimmy bathed and changed into clean clothes to keep me busy. Even if all he does is talk about Sean and Dasher and going over to see them again.

When my phone rings because I’ve forgotten to shut it off, I cringe, knowing it’s him. Of course. He’s relentless. I pick up the phone and I want to answer it. Badly. But what will I say? My voice, everything in me is choked up with confused emotion. My gut churns with each ring until I fumble with the phone to turn it off finally. Am I being a coward or am I being smart?

Smart. The last thing I want is to be a play thing for a wealthy player. My conscience protests again, this time in favor of Sean because I know I’m being unfair casting him as a player. At least I’m pretty sure. Every instinct in me shouts that he’s not playing with me. But it’s too hard to imagine when I shove aside my hyper emotions and consider the facts.

He’s a self-admitted player. I’m a poor single mother with a street-tough background and the only thing I have to offer him, in reality, is my looks. And sex.

But is he really that superficial? Yes. No.

I can’t take the chance either way. Jimmy’s welfare is at stake. If I let this relationship go anywhere I’ll fall all the way and when he inevitably ended it, I’d be a mess. Too much of a mess to let him mentor Jimmy even if he still wanted to.

After I pack Jimmy up, we head into the animal shelter to work half a day like we do every other Saturday. Then we’ll visit the Christmas Tree stand down the street and see if we can drag home a small tree.

Sean has an away game this week and sends me a message through Garino that the invitation is still open for me and Jimmy to go to the Christmas Eve Game.

Unfortunately, Jimmy overhears my conversation with Garino and throws a legit tantrum that I’m not accepting Sean’s invitation to go to the game. Guilt rears up again.

“Seems I’ll feel guilty no matter what I do,” I mutter under my breath, “but I don’t want to owe him or be dependent on a man.”

Garino is having none of it. “Just because you’re going to a game doesn’t mean you’re depending on him.”

I don’t tell her about our night of love-making or about how I feel so drawn to him and that maybe I am depending on him more than she knows. He’s become too important, too kind, and maybe I want him too much now that we’ve had sex. The worst thing that could happen is the want turning into need and I feel that tug, something in me yearning for what he has to offer. And it has nothing to do with money.

It’s easy to not take his call, to tell Garino I don’t want to talk to him, but it’s not easy to hold onto my decision when I face Jimmy, to explain that we have our own family Christmas tradition. I go about bedding down the animals for the night, checking on them, making sure they have water and clean blankets before we leave.

Jimmy follows me around, sullen. In his six-year-old wisdom, he doesn’t think it’s important at all to make our Christmas cake, sit in front of our small tree on our couch that doubles as my bed and read T’ Was the Night Before Christmas while we drink hot cocoa and eat cake.

“Someday you’ll understand why it’s important to have family traditions.”

“You’re wrong, Mommy.”

I’m shocked into silence by his uncharacteristic defiance, but I don’t have a chance to respond.

Sean storms in the front door of the shelter, calling my name. Jimmy, the little traitor, runs straight for him as he rounds the corner into the cage room. Seeing their reunion, the way Jimmy naturally flourishes and beams in his presence, it’s obvious he’s been missing a good consistent man in his life, a vital man, not the old men he’s known, like my rooming house landlord and the food kitchen manager. Good men, but men who have other commitments and no time or energy for a kid like Jimmy.

Unlike Sean who has boundless energy and attention and showers it on Jimmy. Like he’s doing right now. Then Sean looks up at me and he’s not smiling.

My heart speeds up. He’s not angry, but he’s serious and maybe even hurt and that makes me stumble, my emotions tumult around throwing me off balance.

Everything I thought I knew, everything I thought was right, now seems so wrong. How could I be so worried about my independence that I shut this man out when he is so giving and respectful? The last thing I want to do is hurt him.

“Sean. It’s good to see you.” It’s the truth because my pounding heart won’t let me lie. The uncertain look on his face won’t let me pretend I don’t feel what I clearly feel for him.

“Is it?” he asks. He says to Jimmy, “Why don’t you take Dasher out back and play with him for a bit.” His voice is quiet and serious, unlike his usual playful and loud upbeat self, so Jimmy looks unsure and flashes me a questioning glance. I nod at him. It’s a good idea.

Garino appears in the doorway behind them and takes Jimmy’s hand. “I’ll go with you.” She shoots me a stern look and I think she’s on Sean’s team now.

The idea makes me smile. I should be on Sean’s team too, shouldn’t I?

When we’re alone he reaches out a hand and I step forward, taking it.

“Let’s go for a drive,” he says. The hesitation in me is automatic. “I can’t leave the Shelter’s front desk unmanned. What about Jimmy—"

“It’ll be fine. We’ll lock the door. You’re entitled to take a break once in a while.”