Last Christmas

Okay look, I can explain.

No, I really can't explain how it was I fell in love with a mall Santa. Love is just one of those deranged and chaotic concepts which we humans are merely the playthings of. That's just how it's always been for me. I can't choose who I fall in love with. If I could, you can guarantee my last marriage would never have happened. I would have seen the warning signs and dumped Robert long before his self-destructive nature pretty much ruined our entire marriage. Seven years I put up with that man; Seven fucking years, waiting and hoping that he'd somehow become a changed man. Seven years, gone in the blink of an eye; Seven years of my life wasted, with the only silver lining being Suzy, my 6-year-old daughter. Let's hope she has more common sense and doesn't take after me in the love department.

But this story isn't about Robert. It's about Samuel the mall Santa. That big idiot with the soft, round features and curly hair and shining eyes. He's the type of man who has a joke for every occasion, the type who frightens away all your fears and nervousness with just a smile. And his laugh, where do I even start? That stupid laugh says more about Samuel than I ever could. It's a booming laugh that starts as a snort until it picks up such contagious speed and intensity that soon the whole room is laughing along with him, regardless of how terrible his last joke was.

Jeez, look at me, obsessing over this man like I’m back in high school and he’s some star football player. I don't even like Christmas! Yeah, I said it. Me and Christmas have never gotten along. My home life as a kid was somehow even more broken than the one I made with Robert and Suzy. Absolutely no idea how my parents managed to screw up that badly, but they did, and the best thing I can say is at least I’m out of there and don’t ever have to think about their sorry faces ever again.

I’m going on a tangent here; let’s get back to Samuel.

“When did this whole thing start?” you might be wondering. Well truth be told, me and Samuel had been bumping into each other for a while now. We'd always find each other at the store or even walking around the park. He'd always smile that stupid smile that makes my heart flutter. At first, I just thought he was an odd but friendly man. My feelings developed gradually for him, but when they hit, they hit hard. I remember last Christmas, when Suzy begged me to take her to Santa. The ashy walls, coated head-to-toe in sparkling lights and greenery, and the constant droning of Christmas music. Christmas music is easily the most obnoxious thing about Christmas. The repetitive jingling of bells can only get a song so far. Yet people wait all year to listen to their favorite jolly tunes. I sometimes wonder what’s wrong with people, but that line of thinking usually only makes me feel worse about myself. After all, only an evil witch could hate both love and Christmas.

I certainly looked the part of an evil witch that Christmas, what with my long and dark winter coat. And it would certainly look to a passerby like I was kidnapping a princess, with the bright pink and sparkly outfit Suzy wore, complete with her favorite light-up sneakers. She skipped up to the back of line, yelling at me to keep up. This child was such a handful. There was no way I could commit to another relationship now. Suzy needed to be taken care of, and as much as I hate to admit it, Robert still occupied a large chunk of my mind. I just needed some time to think and sort out my feelings. I didn't really like Samuel as much as I thought I did, did I? Please God, I hope I don't. Love has already dragged me down into the dirt before, and it would be really nice if that didn't have to happen again.

Zoned out, thinking about, and then trying not to think about Samuel, the line to meet Santa moves fast. Suzy's giddy bouncing served to remind me to keep moving forward with the line. By the time we reached the front, the fact that we were right in front Samuel hadn’t even dawned on me. I could have sworn he worked at a different mall, or that his hours were different. I could have sworn I would have had a response for him by the time I saw him again. He had asked me to dinner the night before, and I just… pretended not to hear him. Suzy sat on his lap and started talking his ear off, as always. She and Samuel seemed to get along well whenever they met up. Of course, it was a no-brainer that the guy who works as Santa would love children. I wonder if he’s forgotten about the whole dinner thing. That would be a weight off my shoulders. I wouldn’t have to worry about trying to turn him down politely so I could focus on my job and on parenting.

But... 

“So, young one, what would you like for Christmas this year?” began Samuel the Santa.

But would it really be such a good thing, if he had forgotten already and moved on with his life? Would I have met nothing to him then?

“I made a whole list, Santa,” said Suzy “but my mom said not to bring it because other kids wanted to sit on your lap, too.”

“Ho ho ho! That’s very considerate of her,” said Samuel Santa. “Why don’t you just tell me what the top three thing on your list were then?”

What if I was making a huge mistake? What if I was missing my opportunity? Here he was, a sweet and lovable man, and I’m going to turn him down all because something might go wrong? That didn’t seem all that fair, to him or to myself.

Suzy began telling him what she wanted. “First, I want a big teddy bear. And I wanna name her Bella. Bella’s going to become a stunt artist bear, so the next thing I’ll need will be a racecar for her to drive around in. Then I’ll need a ramp and other stuff to make a training course, but I can probably make that stuff at home, so that won’t be the third thing I ask for.”

“Well, well! You weren’t kidding when you said you had everything planned out,” said Samuel. “So what’s the third thing?”

Suzy thought long and hard about her third choice. You could tell the gears were turning inside that little head of hers when she scrunched up her face. Either that, or she ate a lemon. Suzy hated lemons, but her reaction to them was absolutely precious. To her, a lemon might as well be a rotten egg.

Outside of lemons, Suzy can be quite the picky eater. Suzy was a difficult child in more ways than one. (I don’t understand how some parents are able to take care of four kids at once. That seems next to impossible, even with the most well-behaved of children.) Sometimes I wonder if I was ever cut out to be a parent. It feels like I can barely get by some days, balancing Suzy on top of work. The more I thought about it, the more I made up my mind to refuse Samuel’s dinner offer. To throw Samuel into my life right now wouldn’t be fair. I’ll have to refuse him, for my daughter’s sake.

Or at least, that’s what I would have said, if it wasn’t for Suzy’s third Christmas wish.

“Well,” began Suzy, “The third thing I want is for my mommy to be happy. Her and daddy got a divorce recently. It’s been really hard for her, at least I think it is. Even though she tells me that she’s okay, mommy cries sometimes when she thinks I’m not around. And she even said something about seeing ‘sai-kai-a-triss’ or something...”

By this point, I was mentally screaming at Suzy to stop talking. Just stop. Right now. Everyone was staring at me, and here you are divulging my most embarrassing secrets to the man I was trying so desperately not to love. Oh in that moment, what I would have given to become the Wicked Witch of the West and melt into the floor.

But Suzy was just getting started. “It makes me really sad, seeing my mommy sad, so that’s why I wanted to ask you for help. You’re Santa! You bring happiness and joy to everyone! And sure, while I really, really, really want Bella the Stunt Bear, I think my mommy could use some happiness more than me right now. Maybe you could share some of your cookies and milk with her? You must get so many from all the houses you go to. And mommy hasn’t had cookies in a long time because she says she’s watching her weight, but I think she’s plenty thin enough. If anyone could stand to lose a few pounds here, it’d be you Santa. So can you give mommy your cookies? I don’t really think you need them that much.”

If I was already dying of embarrassment, then Suzy nonchalantly calling Samuel fat was the finishing blow. Samuel, meanwhile, was completely stunned. A few seconds of silence (or as close to silent as you can get in a mall) passed, and then he just started laughing that infectious laugh of his.

“Hey, why are you laughing, Santa? I’m serious!” said Suzy.

I laughed too, and Suzy got upset with me as well. I couldn’t help it, something about the sheer innocence in her voice coupled with my extreme nervousness and intense desire for a meteor to crash into the mall and put an end to my humiliation was just really, really funny to me. And Samuel’s laughter wasn’t helping either.

Somewhere in between when we stopped laughing and when me and Suzy went home, Samuel had this to say:

“You’re a very kind and considerate young lady. You get that from your mother. While I’ll be far too busy delivering presents to look after your mother this Christmas, I think I might know someone who can help keep her company.” And then he winked at me. I just rolled my eyes and grinned.

We met up a few days later at the park. We talked things over, and I may or may not have blurted out how I felt about him. We shared some awkward laughs afterwards (that’s all love is at the end of the day: letting yourself be awkward for the one you care about most). We eventually agreed that going straight to a fancy dinner out might be moving a little too fast for the both of us. So instead we walked around the park, and I ended up inviting him to a small Christmas Party a friend had roped me into throwing, and he was very excited about that. And then we kissed. It was nice.

Wait what was I talking about again?

On the night of the Christmas Party, he was the first to show up. I had worked so hard, just barely getting the house clean enough for company. Suzy was in the other room, blasting music from a Christmas playlist I had regrettably helped her make. Last Christmas by Wham! came on, and she turned it up to full-blast. This was unfortunate for two reasons. The first was that Last Christmas was one of my most hated Christmas songs of all time. It’s played far too often and gets stuck in my head far too easily.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away.

This year, to save me from tears

I'll give it to someone special.

(See what I mean? It’s already wormed its way into my inner thoughts. I hope Suzy gets sick of this song eventually, because there’s only so much of it my sanity can take.)

The second reason why this was unfortunate was because Samuel was at the door, and between the loud music and me attempting to shout over said loud music to get Suzy to turn it down, neither of us heard him knock. We didn’t realize he was outside until I looked out the window.

Running to the door with yet another thing to be embarrassed about, I let Samuel inside. He was holding a box, filled with homemade cookies.

“Merry Christmas, Beatrice,” he said. “Glad you finally decided to let me in.”