I don't think you can imagine how expensive it is to hire an off-duty Sheriff's Deputy to dress up like Santa Claus and serve divorce papers on your wife at 8PM on Christmas Eve. Trust me, it ain't cheap but it was worth every penny.
Santa was in character when we met behind the garage. He was perfect. The man had his own costume, including shiny black patent leather boots. Even his white hair and beard were real. And his eyes how they twinkled! his dimples how merry, his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry.
Deputy Liebermann provided ample padding and his round belly shook like a bowlful of jelly. Damn he looked good.
"Are you 100% sure you want to go ahead with this?" In response I handed him a portfolio thick with envelopes and pointed to the sack full of presents. "I'll see you inside in five minutes."
Our home was packed with dozens of friends and family. They had been eating and drinking for over three hours. Laughter rang out everywhere. Friendships were renewed. Everyone was having a great time. Drinks flowed and stories were told. The McMillan Christmas Eve soiree was not to be missed.
And I the jovial host had a heart blacker than the blackest of coal and smaller than the Grinch's. Only tonight there would be no Cindy Lou Who to make mine grow three sizes. No, it, like my marriage, was dead and only my demand for vengeance kept me moving.
The grandfather clock in the family room began to toll eight times. Everyone knew what that meant.
The grandkids let out a shriek when Santa knocked on the front door that was so loud my ears were still ringing five minutes later. Sleigh bells rang and Ho-Ho-Ho bellowed above the din as he dragged his sack full of goodies into our foyer.