Gifts are the variable element at Christmas. They can come from friends, family, teachers, or co-workers. They can be thoughtful, memorable, or maybe even hilarious. Some of the best gifts, however, are the ones we give ourselves.
Christmas in 1978 Cincinnati was like most Christmases of the 1970s. Hair was free-flowing, shoes had tall heels, and clothes were bright. Celebrities from the 1950s still produced holiday content. Parties had fancy drinks, spreads of hors d'oeuvres, and cheese inspired dishes. Malls were large, well decorated, and always had a Santa Claus in the big department store.
Marcella had been looking forward to taking her niece and nephew to see Santa. Her sister and brother-in-law were both busy business owners and always short on time. This was something she could do to help them out, the kids would love it and hopefully would create some special memories for her. After weeks of talking about it, they were in line at Fishers' department store moments away from meeting the man himself.
Samantha was eight and clung to Marcella's hand. While Christopher, who was six, looked excited.
"What should I say to Santa?" asked Sam.
Marcella smiled down at her. "Just tell him what you want for Christmas," she said, removing her coat to get some relief from the warm temperatures in the store.
"I'm asking him for Zencar action figures," Christopher said confidently.
A woman in an elf costume and carrying a clipboard was making her way through the line. When she got to Marcella she asked, "Enter to win gifts from Fishers?"
"What is it, some type of contest?"
"Yup. Put your name, address, and what the little ones want for Christmas. The store will draw a dozen winners and deliver the gifts right to your door."
Christopher and Samantha were both jumping up and down with excitement. "Do it, Aunt Marcella. Do it please, please. Come on, sign us up, sign us up."
"Okay, okay be calm, I'm signing you up," she grinned while scribbling down the information.
When she was done they were just a few places back from Santa. Marcella noticed the man's face. That is the part that wasn't covered with false white whiskers. She could see that he was much younger than St. Nick should be.
It was finally their turn and all three walked towards the man in the chair. Santa's bright blue eyes met Marcella's and stayed there for a moment. This confirmed that the man in the suit was young and a bit too eager as he scanned her oval face and thick, black hair. She felt a little awkward being checked out by a guy in a Santa suit.
A few steps later they were standing before Santa Claus. Christopher was the first to speak, "Santa, I know you're really busy, but I really want Zencar Chronicles' action figures for Christmas."
Santa nodded, "You and lots of other kids around the world."
Marcella had to encourage Samantha to speak up. "It's ok, don't be bashful. You've waited a long time to see Santa Claus. He's friendly"
"Don't worry. It's alright to be shy," Santa said kindly. "Tell me what you want for Christmas so I can make sure the elves get it made in time."
His voice was calm and inspired confidence. Samantha stepped closer to him, "I want a new science kit, painting supplies, and some nice smelling perfume. Something like what Auntie Marcella wears when she goes out with Frank."
Marcella was embarrassed. Sam had just let slip a bunch of personal information to a guy who probably took the Santa job because he lost all his Christmas money at the dog track. "Ok kids," she said hastily. "Time to go. Santa has lots of other little girls and boys to talk to."
"Ho Ho Ho. Not to worry about that," Santa Claus returned, smiling behind his false white beard.
As he reached out to pat Christopher on the shoulder his gloved hand brushed against the skin of Marcella's forearm. It was a subtle and probably accidental touch, but it drew her attention. Her brown eyes met his and their gaze lingered.
Holding their eye contact Santa said, "Merry Christmas to you."
"Merry Christmas Santa!" the kids replied in unison snapping both adults from the moment.
"Ho Ho Ho. Thank you both."
"Ok you two time for lunch," Marcella declared as she led them away.
During lunch, the three watched the bustle of the season. The mall was colorfully decorated and each store went all out with enticing displays. The shoppers hurried back and forth, some staring at lists, some had their arms full of packages. One couple walked by pushing a baby stroller.
Samantha turned to her aunt and asked, "Auntie Marcella, why aren't you married?"
Marcella smiled. "Why, I don't know. I guess maybe I've been too busy."
"With work?"
"Yes, that's part of it. It's not even been a year since I moved to Cincinnati. I'm still getting settled. You know I'm trying to save up enough to get my own apartment."
"But you're old enough to get married, aren't you?" asked Samantha.
"Oh yes. I'm old enough."
Christopher jumped into the conversation, "How old are you?"
"I'm twenty-six."
He took a sip of his drink. "Why don't you marry Frank?"
"I like Frank, but he hasn't asked me to marry him yet," Marcella said honestly.
"I don't like Frank." Samantha piped in.
"Why don't you like Frank?" Marcella asked in surprise.
Samantha poked at her food. "I don't know. He doesn't seem to like us and he's kind of a jerk."
"Don't say that," Marcella told her sharply.
"But he is," Christopher joined his sister's opinion.
Feeling ganged up on Marcella felt the need to defend her boyfriend, "He's not a jerk."
Samantha started getting silly, "His first name is Frank. His last name is Lobby. If you take the initial of his first name and his last name that's F-Lobby. Get it? Flobby."
That made Christopher laugh, "Yeah Flobby, that's what I'm gonna call him from now on, Flobby."
Marcella giggled to herself. She had never thought of it that way and it was pretty funny. Kids come up with the craziest things, "Okay you two stop it. You have to be polite."
The snickering stopped, "Are you going to marry Frank?" Samantha inquired.
That was a question she had thought a lot about. They'd been dating steadily for about eight months. Frank was a good-looking guy and a successful lawyer. He wasn't a high-profile trial lawyer. Property and patent law was his specialty but a lawyer nonetheless. Marriage had never come up as a possibility but he'd never given her the sense that it wasn't a possibility. Now he was moving to Florida to open a new branch of the law firm, and she didn't know their future.
"Well that isn't up to me is it?" Marcella said solemnly.