This is my entry into the
Winter Holidays Story Contest 2022
.
When I first started writing this story I wasn't sure where it would go, but, I fell in love with the characters. It's a bit long, at least longer than most stories I submit here.
Please read it, stick with it, and vote for it!
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It was four am on Christmas morning and Cassie Kingston was awake. There would be no happy Christmas morning with the kids for her, their faces smiling as they opened their presents, their laughter filling the air. No, she'd be missing all of that, her parents would get to enjoy the morning with Charlie and Andrea. Cassie was going to work.
She had gladly accepted the extra hours when her boss offered them. Double-time pay for working the holiday was a no-brainer. The store would be packed for the after-Christmas sale that kicked off Christmas morning. She thought the whole concept was a bit crazy, but she needed the money. Her ex-husband was late with the child support as usual. By her figuring, he was three months behind, but she found it hard to be mad at him. It wasn't like he was intentionally behind with payments, he was struggling himself. She put every free penny into making sure the kids were taken care of, even if it meant that she went to bed hungry, and her clothes were a bit worn. It didn't matter to her, the kids were her everything. So she picked up as many hours as she could. And she got up early Christmas morning so she could leave. She'd share Christmas with Charlie and Andrea, and her parents, that evening. At least she didn't have to deal with snow today.
As she made her way through the living room toward the kitchen she saw a small figure under the tree. It was Charlie. He had taken to sleeping under the tree the past few years, desperate to catch Santa Claus. She picked him up, wrapped her arms around him, and carried him back to bed. He barely stirred.
Charlie didn't tell his mom, but the reason he wanted to catch Santa was to tell him how great a mom she is, and that Santa needed to give her lots of stuff, and not give him so much. Charlie loved his mom, and he saw how she struggled. It broke his six-year-old heart. He knew that his sister didn't see it, she was just three and didn't understand how the world worked. But Charlie knew, and he saw, and he was convinced that Santa could fix everything. Santa could bring his mom new clothes, food for the pantry, and a new dishwasher to replace the broken one. Maybe, just maybe, Santa could even bring his mom a new husband. Someone to love her, and take care of Charlie and Andrea, someone who could help her make money to feed and clothe them, maybe even take them on something called a vacation, whatever that was. That would make Charlie happier than anything, and he wanted to tell Santa that he would give up all his presents for the rest of his life if Santa would just take care of his mom.
Cassie returned to the living room after putting Charlie back to bed and plugged in the tree. It was a bit bare, and a lot of the bulbs were burned out, but she loved it. She loved the whole concept of Christmas, giving for the sake of giving and expecting nothing in return. Yes, she thought, this Pagan/Christian mashup of a holiday was pretty good, even if she didn't believe in God. How could a loving God give her and her kids such a shitty life? She just couldn't reconcile her situation with a belief in a loving benefactor in the sky. Her mom always scolded her about it.
She shuffled off to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee then sat at the table and drank a cup. It was hot and strong, just the way she liked it. About halfway through her cup, there was a soft rapping on the back door, it was her mom and dad, and Santa?
"What the fuck, mom! Who is this?"
Her mom chuckled. "Don't tell me that you don't recognize Santa!"
Santa removed his white gloves and offered his hand to Cassie.
"Hello Cassie, my name is Blane, I'm a volunteer Santa. Your parents arranged for me to join them this morning."
Cassie ignored Santa and turned to her mom.
"Mom, you know that Charlie has been trying to catch Santa, just minutes ago I found him asleep under the tree again. What's going to happen when he sees this?" She curled her lip and nodded toward Santa.
"I think he'll be thrilled to finally catch Santa, dear."
Cassie rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration.
"Fine mom, I don't have time to argue with you, and Santa, if anything goes missing I will hunt you down and put a stiletto through your nut sack."
"Stop it, Cassie," her mom snapped, "you don't even have a pair of stilettos!"
Cassie growled and stomped out of the room. Blane Jackson, Santa, just stood there in shock, wondering who this fireball was that seemed to be pissed at the world, and why did she turn him on so much? He busied himself with helping carry in the presents and by the time that was done, Cassie was back, dressed for work, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail. She kissed her parents on the cheek and smiled at Santa.
"Sorry I was such a bitch, Santa, Merry Fucking Christmas."
With that, she was out the back door and gone. Blane fought back the urge to go after her, wrap his arms around her, and kiss her full on her lips. She had stirred his passion no longer than he'd been around her.
Cassie's parents wanted to let the kids sleep a little longer so she poured coffee for the three of them. Blane pulled his beard down and sipped his coffee while he hung out near the tree. Scattered around the room were photos of Cassie and the kids. The kids were always smiling, but Cassie always looked tired, even when she smiled. But he could see through the tiredness, and he thought she was beautiful.
It was time to wake the kids so Santa knelt next to the tree as if he was placing presents.
"SANTA!" screamed the kids as they nearly bowled him over. Blane loved this part of his job. Playing Santa with kids telling him what they wanted was fun but exhausting. Surprising kids on Christmas morning was his real joy.
Blane talked to the kids, watched them open their presents, and even played a game with them. Cassie's parents sat in the kitchen sipping coffee and watching their grandkids have one of their best Christmases ever. As Blane was getting ready to leave, Charlie tugged on his sleeve.
"Santa, can we talk?"
"Sure Charlie, what can Santa do for you?" Blane said as he sat on the sofa and pulled Charlie onto his lap.
"It's not for me, it's for my mom." Charlie spilled his soul to Santa. He told him what a great mom he had, and all he wanted was for Santa to take care of her. He even told Santa about his mom needing a new dishwasher . . . and a new husband.
"Santa, if you can help my mom then I promise to never ask for another Christmas present my whooole life."
Blane nearly lost control of his emotions. This little six-year-old boy had more of the spirit of Christmas in the tip of his pinkie than all the kids that Blane had ever met before put together.
"Well, Charlie, it's kinda late to do anything about your mom this year. All the presents have been made and delivered."