Santa (Maybe): A Rom Com Novella Read online

When it came to unwanted attention, he was usually the one on the receiving end. That was how he came to be unemployed. He’d turned down the wrong woman. The last thing Mark wanted to do was subject Madeleine to unwelcome advances.

  Well, he was about to find out if Madeleine would recognize him out of costume. He doubted it. There was barely any resemblance between his appearance now and the scrawny kid he’d been at 19. He’d been a late-bloomer. Very late.

  There was also the problem of Ami. He’d spent time with Ami only 3 years earlier. He and Joe and Ami had taken a trip down the Oregon coast right before Joe moved to Hong Kong. Ami was sure to recognize him out of costume.

  Mark took a deep breath and opened the door.

  “Matchstick!” Ami looked back and forth between Mark’s face and the Santa suit. “You’re Sexy Santa! I should have recognized your voice.”

  “Well, I’m Santa anyway. The sexy part is open to interpretation.”

  Ami launched herself at Mark and gave him a big hug. “Madeleine’s going to freak out when she finds out she was getting all ‘hot and bothered’ over little Matchstick Jameson!

  Mark was enormously pleased with this assessment of Madeleine’s reaction to him, but he tried to play it cool.

  “Don’t tell her,” he said. “I want to see if she recognizes me.”

  “I seriously doubt she will. You look nothing like a matchstick anymore,” Ami said. “You’re so—“

  Ami playfully squeezed one of Mark’s biceps. “I personally go for highly-tattooed skinny commitment-phobic musicians with ridiculous amounts of facial hair, but I can certainly see what women might see in you.”

  Mark wasn’t sure how much of a compliment that was, but he said thanks anyway.

  “Hurry and get your costume on!” Ami pushed him down the hall toward her tiny office. “Don’t let Madeleine see you yet. It’ll be much more fun this way. The lock on the office door is broken, but don’t worry. No one will walk in on you.”

  Madeleine was late arriving at the party. Chad was supposed to have picked up Emily at six, but he hadn’t shown up until seven. She’d also had trouble getting into her elf costume. It seemed to have shrunk since last year, or maybe it was all that stress-eating she’d been doing. No, the costume had definitely shrunk.

  Still, once she’d managed to pour herself into the tights, she’d been relieved to see that she still made a cute elf. She’d done up her eyes with heavy liner and green shadow and used extra blusher to make the apples of her cheeks pink. It was a lame attempt to cover up any real blushing she might be doing later on, but it was worth a shot.

  The party was already in full swing when she walked in the door. Mothers and children were working on decorations. Some were sitting at tables making paper chains and eating cookies. Others were overloading the tree with tinsel. A couple of the more forward mothers had backed Santa into a corner and appeared to be trying to flirt him out of his crushed velvet trousers.

  Ami came up looking harried and gave Madeleine a quick hug. She shoved a cookie into Madeleine’s hand.

  “FYI!” Ami whispered in her sister’s ear. “I saw Santa without his St. Nick gear and he’s spectacular. I’d jump on that, if I were you.”

  Before Madeleine could comment on this revelation, Ami scurried off. Madeleine took a bite of cookie—just what she needed to insure that next Christmas she really wouldn’t be able to get into those elf tights.

  “Ho, Ho, Ho!” boomed Santa from his corner. “Look, everybody! My helper elf has arrived. She’s brought your presents in from my sleigh!”

  The presents! She’d forgotten to retrieve the bag of presents from the back storeroom. Madeleine thought fast.

  “Actually, Santa, it turns out the bag was so full of presents that it was too heavy for one elf to carry. Maybe Santa would like to help me bring it in. What do you think kids? Do you think Santa should help me bring the presents in?”

  “Yes!” Screamed the kids. The room vibrated with the energy of two dozen children hopped up on fruit punch and way too many cookies.

  “I don’t remember where I parked my sleigh,“ said Santa. “Miss Elf will have to show me.”

  Madeleine grabbed Santa by the arm. It was an impressive arm, even swathed in the cushiony costume.

  “This way!” she hissed.

  Madeleine was hoping Santa wouldn’t smell as good as she remembered, but he did. She also wished Santa’s eyes didn’t have quite such a roughish twinkle, as if he could read her thoughts. Madeline dragged Santa to the storeroom and pointed to the bag. It didn’t look very heavy.

  “This is the heavy load you needed help with?” Santa enquired.

  “I was buying time. I forgot to bring in the presents,” Madeleine said.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Really.”

  Santa was standing very close to her now. So close that she could see green flecks in his blue eyes.

  “Are you sure?”

  Santa reached out and brushed a cookie crumb off the corner of her mouth.

  Madeleine swallowed. He was going to kiss her and she was going to let him.

  “Ahem!” Ami interrupted from the door of the storeroom. “You’d better get back out here. A few of the munchkins are discussing forming a search party—when they find you they plan to tie you up with extension cords, abscond with the gifts and divide the loot. They figure they can take Santa, but they think Miss Elf is a Tough Cookie. Tough Cookie is an exact quote, by the way.”

  Madeleine wasn’t sure if Ami was joking, but she was grateful for the interruption. What was she thinking? She’d been about to kiss a man she’d only met last night. She didn’t know his name. She’d never even seen his face.

  “By the way, Madeleine—“ said Ami as she shooed them out into the hall, “—this is Mark. Mark, this is Madeleine. I don’t believe you’ve been introduced.”

  Ami stuck out her hand and Mark took it. Instead of shaking it and giving it back, he raised her hand to his mouth, turned it palm in and brushed it with his lips.

  Madeleine could feel herself blushing again. She looked over at Ami. Ami was smirking. Madeleine yanked her hand back.

  “Anyway—“ Ami said, “—we’re all going out for a drink afterwards. It’s on me, to thank you for helping. And I have a check for you, Mark.”

  “Oh, that’s Ok. I wasn’t expecting to get paid,” Mark insisted. “I was able to trade shifts.”

  Madeleine was curious. What did this man do besides play Santa? Being a Santa impersonator was hardly a full-time job?

  “Come on!” Ami said and hurried them down the hall to the waiting crowd of kids.

  Mark stood in Ami’s tiny office. Distributing gifts to the kids had been fun. He understood why Ami had devoted her life to this kind of work, although he imagined there were a lot of dark moments, too. It wasn’t all parties and presents.

  Mark kicked off his boots and unbuckled his giant black belt and shrugged out of his coat. He pulled his fake-belly vest over his head.

  It felt good to get out of his Santa suit. It was starting to feel like he lived in the thing. He wasn’t about to miss going out for a drink with Madeleine and Ami, but he hadn’t brought along his spirit gum solvent, so he’d have to go with his Santa beard still glued to his face. It was just as well. He didn’t mind putting off the moment when he’d have to reveal his face to Madeleine. He found the Santa costume gave him courage he didn’t know he had.

  He stepped out of his Santa pants.

  There was a rattling at the door. The handle turned and it opened. Madeleine, still in her elf costume, stood framed in the doorway. For a moment she stood stone-still, mesmerized by the sight of Mark standing in the middle of the tiny office in nothing but socks and a pair of red boxers with “Ho, Ho, Ho” printed all over them. Madeleine held a duffle bag in one hand. She had obviously come to the office to change out of her elf costume.

  Mark broke the silence. He pointed at his boxers.

  “Gag gift. I only wear
‘em when I’m Santa. Helps me get in character.”

  Madeleine didn’t say anything. She was going to come in and close the door, she just didn’t know yet.

  “Could you close the door, please?” Mark asked.

  “Sure, I mean sorry. Ami told me to come change in here. I—“

  Of course Ami had. Mark couldn’t have asked for a more hardworking cupid than Ami.

  Madeleine started to back out of the room.

  “That’s not what I meant.” Mark moved toward her.

  Madeleine paused again. Now she was taking in his bare chest and abs. All those hours at the gym suddenly seemed totally worth it. Mark grabbed Madeleine by the wrist and gently tugged her into the room. He reached out with his foot and nudged the door closed. He wasn’t going to kiss her, but he’d make damn sure she realized she wanted him to.

  Madeleine was feeling dizzy again. This time it was no use blaming it on the flu going around. She had to face facts. Santa/Mark was having a very curious effect on her.

  Mark stepped toward her. Madeleine moved away until her back came into contact with the closed door and there was no space for further retreat. Mark stopped short of making full body contact, but Madeleine was acutely aware that inches away was a nearly-naked body of a man who was capable of making her go weak in the knees, even fully swathed in a ridiculous Santa costume. Now that there wasn’t even a ridiculous costume between them, she had to remind herself to breath.

  Mark reached up and put a hand on either side of her face. He cradled her head. Madeleine let herself relax against the closed door, but she pressed her palms flat against the door. She wanted to run her hands up and down Mark’s naked chest, but she wasn’t ready for what might happen after that.

  Madeleine closed her eyes and soaked in the feeling of Mark’s thumbs caressing her cheeks. She felt surrounded by a cloud of love. Her eyes snapped open. This was a ridiculous. This man didn’t love her. Far from it. Only a complete player would act like this with a woman he hadn’t even taken out for a cup of coffee.

  Mark sensed her shift in mood. He leaned down, brushed his lips across her forehead and removed his hands from her head. He moved away and started to put on his jeans.

  The room seemed suddenly cold. Madeleine didn’t know whether to leave or to stay. Mark buttoned up his shirt and pulled on his sweater. He gathered up his Santa costume in one hand and picked up his boots with the other.

  “See you out there,” he said and left her.

  Madeleine sat down in the middle of the floor. She felt like crying for the second time in as many days. What was it about this man that made her so acutely aware of what was missing in her life? Love. Love was missing. But the kind of man who came on this strong to strange women was not a good bet for finding the kind of lasting love Madeleine was looking for.

  If it weren’t for Emily, she’d be tempted to have a fling, but a fling was out of the question. Madeleine had a rule. She never went out for more than three dates with any man who wasn’t husband-material and she never ever brought men home to meet Emily. As it had turned out, since her divorce she hadn’t met a single man who was husband-material. At least not one who was both husband-material and shaggable.

  Oh, well. She’d go have a drink with Mark and Ami. That might be the last she’d see of him. Just one drink. Or maybe two. She was sure she’d lost her chance with Mark. He’d given her an obvious opening to jump his bones and she hadn’t taken it. Men like him were quick to move on.

  Mark watched Madeleine across the table. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. She avoided his eyes and concentrated on her glass. She was out-drinking her sister three drinks to one. Mark wondered how often she drank like that. It wasn’t celebratory drinking. It was more of the drown-your-sorrows variety. It made him sad. Everything about Madeleine made him sad. It wasn’t only that he wanted her and couldn’t have her. It was seeing her so miserable that devastated him. All those years he’d imagined her being happy. In pictures, she’d always looked happy. Apparently, the pictures hadn’t been telling the whole truth.

  Mark nursed his fourth seltzer. He wondered who would end up driving Madeleine home. He hoped it would be him.

  Ami, content to carry the conversational ball, chattered away about her neighbor who was renovating an old Victorian next door and who kept her up nights with his sawing and hammering.

  They’d been at the bar since 9. It was midnight and still Madeleine had said barely three words to Mark. Apparently, she was not one of those people whose tongues got looser the more they drank.

  “So, Mark—“ Ami enquired, “—how’s the personal trainer game going?”

  Madeleine looked up from her drink for the first time in half an hour, but she still didn’t say anything. Mark was afraid Madeleine might ask how Ami knew what he did for a living, but this didn’t seem to occur to her.

  “Not so good.”

  “How so?”

  “I got fired two weeks ago. Long story.”

  “Go ahead and tell it. We have plenty of time.”

  “Well, the short version is that I didn’t want to sleep with one of my clients. She’s actually something of a local celebrity and has lots of connections around town. Local news anchor. If I told you her name, you’d recognize it. Anyway, the long and short of it is that she doesn’t take rejection well and I find I’ve been black-listed at pretty much every gym between Ballard and Bellingham. That’s how I came to be a Professional Santa Impersonator this holiday season.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Ami. “Madeleine here is trying her best to get fired. She hasn’t succeeded, yet. She could have tried refusing to sleep with her boss, but unfortunately she works for a woman. A man-crazy woman—“

  Mark was surprised. “You hate your job that much, Madeleine?”

  “Yep!” Madeleine said. “I’d like nothing better than to go in Monday morning and—“

  She made a sweeping gesture and knocked her empty glass off the table. It rolled underneath their feet but didn’t shatter.

  “Where do you live, Mark?” Ami asked.

  “On Lake Washington. In a houseboat.”

  Madeleine was making a fumbling attempt to retrieve her glass from under the table.

  “Did you hear that, Madeleine?” Ami stuck her head under the table. “Mark lives in a houseboat on Lake Washington. Isn’t that cool?”

  There was no answer from under the table. Ami came up for air.

  “Madeleine has a house in the University District,” she informed Mark. “Would you mind driving her home?”

  Mark didn’t have to be asked twice. Madeleine made some noise about Ami sending her home with a strange man, but Ami argued that Mark wasn’t that strange of a man. This reasoning made no sense to Mark, but it pacified Madeleine.

  It turned out that Madeleine lived less than half a mile from Mark. She’d lived in the same place for years. So had Mark. All this time they’d been that close.

  Madeleine fell asleep in the car. When they got to her house, Mark pulled up in the driveway and went around to the passenger side. He opened the door and undid Madeleine’s seat belt. She opened her eyes halfway.

  “You’re home,” Mark told her.

  “Sleepy. So sleepy.”

  “Am I going to have to carry you in?” She wasn’t that drunk, but he didn’t mind. She didn’t seem to mind either, because she got out of the car under her own power and wrapped her arms around his neck as she swayed against him.

  “Sleepy.”

  “Yes, I think we’ve established that. Where is your key?”

  It was in her bag. He fished it out and picked her up in his arms. He had to put her down on the doorstop to coax open the stubborn lock, but he picked her up again and carried her over the threshold.

  “Which way?” He had no idea where to go from here. He finally located a light-switch. Light flooded the room. They were standing at the foot of the stairs.

  “Too bright!” complained Madeleine. He switched t
he light back off.

  “Where to? Shall I put you down?”

  “No, upstairs.”

  Mark carried Madeleine up the stairs.

  “Down the hall.”

  They were in her bedroom now. He set her down on the bed. She clung to his neck.

  “You’ll be OK now. I have to go.”

  “Don’t go.”

  “I should.”

  “Please.”

  He couldn’t see her face. Was she that lonely? So lonely she got drunk and begged strange men to spend the night?

  Mark loosened her arms from around his neck and fumbled around until he found a lamp and switched it on.

  Madeleine was curled up in the fetal position on the end of the bed. Her shoes were still on and she appeared to have fallen asleep again. Asleep was good. Now he could slip away. But first he’d take her shoes off.

  He got the first shoe off without waking her, but she stirred when he attempted the second.

  “Don’t go.” Madeleine begged. “Promise.”

  “How about I stay until you fall asleep?”

  “Then I won’t fall asleep.” She looked so rumpled and vulnerable. Her perfect makeup from earlier in the evening wasn’t so perfect anymore. Her eye-liner was smudged around her eyes. She reminded Mark of a depressed raccoon.

  “Yes, you will fall asleep. I give it three minutes.”

  “Promise. Promise me, you’ll stay. I won’t sleep. I promise.”

  Staying was the last thing he should do, but he did it anyway. He tucked her into bed fully clothed and then lay down on top of the bed spread and watched her fall asleep from the other side of the bed. He didn’t touch her except move a stray strand of hair that draped across her eyes. She didn’t stir. Strangely, she looked happier asleep. Mark hoped that she at least had happy dreams.

  Six Days Until Christmas

  Madeleine woke up as it was growing light. She always woke up early. Even on the weekends. Even when Chad had Emily and she could have slept in as late as she liked.

  She turned over and nearly screamed. There was a man in her bed. He lay on top of the bedspread wrapped in his coat. He was asleep. As he breathed in and out, his wooly white beard floated up and down.