Baby, it's cold outside! - 2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

(Five Years Later)

I never wanted to come back, but Prof Brunelli insisted on my attendance at this meeting. I begged him to take Andreas or Kara, but no, it had to be me, because this is my field of expertise and apparently only I can convince the investors of the benefits of cooperation yadda, yadda. He was hoping my enthusiasm will generate similar enthusiasm in potential investors. Duh.

I've been working for the professor for over five years now. Last year I finally obtained my PhD. The work is interesting, sometimes challenging, but more importantly, extremely busy. I have almost no private life, and that's exactly how I like it. I had two, no three, short relationships. My meager attempts to move on after the Peter disaster. Andreas says I'm a hopeless case, and I think he's right. Peter was the love of my life.

Not only am I back in this dreaded city, but I am in the largest mall for Christmas shopping, of all things. I didn’t get around to do it yet; the preparations for the meeting ate all my time, and yes, I hate Christmas shopping. It reminds me of all the things I could have if… yes, if I'd finally move on. Whatever.

All right, first a present for Kara. Well that shouldn't be too difficult. I only have to look for the next Victoria's Secret shop, endure the amused smiles from the shop assistants, and buy her this bra and matching panty she showed me oh-so-conveniently last week in that ad. Of course, quite incidentally I presume, she mentioned her size, because she knows I'd be hopeless if I’d have to guess.

Ha. One down, two to go. Next stop, the toy store. I have to look for Lego Star Wars figures, because my little 26-year-old buddy Andreas collects them. I think it's better than having to look for a hot leather thong or something. I’m really bad with sizes.

Holy shit! The last time I'd been in a toy store must have been when I was fourteen and I had to buy a teddy bear for my newborn nephew, Alan. All this noise, the beeping, shouting, and laughing is what Kara calls Christmas delight: salted caramel with a dash of tart. After asking one of the surprisingly-still-cheerful shop assistants, I find my way to the shelf with all the Lego Star Wars stuff. I scan the boxes and then grab the last box with a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter Transport and a matching Battle Pack. Andreas will have a blast. Yay! Back to the checkout. I survive a light-saber attack, though only barely, almost trip over a remote-controlled car, and run into a doll carriage, but hey, it's Christmas all around.

Just when I'm paying for my Lego boxes, a deafening ringing noise sounds, followed by the sound of clapping hands. I, and everybody else around me, look questioningly at the cashier, who immediately shouts way too cheerfully, "Congratulations, sir! You won a grand prize in our Christmas lottery!" He puts a red Santa Claus hat with Christmas lights around the white trim and a big pompon on my head, and passes me a large plastic bag with an already wrapped Christmas present. "Don't peek before Christmas.” He grins at me, and then whispers in my ear, "You're lucky; it's a present for a boy." Huh?

Everybody around me cheers and claps their hands while I flee the shop in a daze with two more bags in my hand. This has to be my lucky day.

Before I look for the music store where I preordered a rare Edith Farnadi vinyl edition for Prof. Brunelli, the last present, I have to go to the food court. I'm starving. Scanning the mall, I notice one of those benches, where you can meet your friends or little children sometimes wait when they lose their parents. On the bench sits a little boy. If I had to guess, I'd say he's around four years old, with thick, black hair, a black jacket, and the saddest, blue eyes I've ever seen in my entire life. Tears are running down his face, dropping on his blue scarf, but the little guy doesn't seem to care.

Before I realize it, I kneel down in front of him. "Hey, little man. Are you lost? Can I help you?"

After some time, bright blue eyes fix on my hat, and he asks tentatively, "Santa?"

Only then I remember the damn hat. Oh shit!

"Um…" Really, what can I say? I can't just crush the hope shining in his eyes, can I?

After briefly clearing my throat I deepen my voice to sound Santa~ish. "So, why are you so sad, little guy." I take his hands into mine.

"Because of you…" he says with such a small voice, I almost can't hear him.

"Because of me?"

He sniffles. "Yeah, and Daddy."

"Oh, so what did I do to make you sad?"

"When you were still in your Santa suit at the entrance of the mall, where we can climb in your lap and tell you our Christmas wish…," he starts sobbing again. Without thinking, I get up, settle myself on the bench, and he immediately climbs into my lap.

"Yes?" I ask, holding him in my arms.

"I wanted to tell you my Christmas wish, but Julie goed to the game store. I waited, but when it was my turn you went away."

"Um … I know that wasn't right of me, so… um I came back, and now you can tell me your Christmas wish. And afterwards we'll see if we can find Julie. She's probably looking for you already. What do you think?"

"’kay."

"All right. So, what do you wish for Christmas this year, um what's your name again?"

"Tristan Tyler."

"Hey, my name's Tristan too!"

"But you're Santa!"

Shit! "Yes, but my first name is Tristan; that's a secret, though. You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"No."

"Oh, good. So, what is your Christmas wish this year, Tristan?"

He reaches for my head and pulls me down, so he can whisper in my ear, "I wish what Daddy wants."

"Um, and what would that be?"

"I don't know. He looks at a picture in a drawer in the bedside table and says I only wish…. But you're Santa, you have to know what his Christmas wish is, right?"

The little guy looks at me so trustingly and full of hope, I just can't say no.

I frown and pretend to think heavily, then I smile too brightly. "Yes, Tristan I know, and I'll really try to grant him his wish this year, but sometimes people have very complicated wishes, and it seems your dad's wish is one of those difficult ones."

"But you're Santa!"

"Yes, and I'll try with all my might, I promise, okay?"

"Okay.” A bright flash of light blinds me.

I look up and for the first time I notice there is quite the crowd surrounding us, some even have tears in their eyes. Oh shit! I can feel a blush creeping up my face.

"Oh, how cute," one of the girls gushes.

“And I always thought he's an old man with a beer gut, white hair, and a long beard--not a ponytail and a hot bod." Another girl winks at me.

"That's just his business suit," Tristan lectures the girl. "This is his ca-cashul stuff, when he’s not working. And his real name is Tristan, not Santa." He'd barely said it when he looks at me, mortified.

I wink at him, collect my bags and take his hand. "Come on, let's find Julie."

We make our way through the crowd, when I feel Tristan tugging at my sleeve. "Are you angry with me now? Does Daddy still get his wish?" he asks anxiously.

"Well, I’ll just make her forget my name then, huh?" I smile at him while we make our way over to the game store.

"You can do that?"

"Well, I'm Santa, huh?"

We are just about to enter the store when a blonde girl around seventeen comes out. Seeing us, she immediately starts scolding Tristan.

"Tristan! What are you doing here? You should have stayed with Santa until I came and got you again!"

"I did," he says, smiling at me.

She looks at me and opens her mouth, and I silently shake my head no.

"Are you Tristan's sister?"

"Nah, I'm just his babysitter. His father told me to go with him to the mall today, because TT desperately wanted to talk to Santa this year, and his father doesn't have the time to go with him."

"And do you think Tristan's father would be happy if he heard that you left his four-year-old alone in the mall, to go to the game store?"

At first, she blushes furiously, but then she says defiantly, "That's none of your business. Who do you think you are?"

"But Julie, he's Santa," Tristan says reproachfully.

"That I am." I smile. "Now that we found Julie and you're safe, I have to go. Good bye, Tristan. It was nice to meet you, and merry Christmas." I tousle his hair. Then he reminds me, "Don't forget Daddy’s wish San…Tristan, okay?"

"I won't." I wave at him and then enter the music store. I still have to buy Prof. Brunelli’s present after all. At first, I feel elated, hey I'm Santa, but then it hits me. I lied to a little boy. I'm not Santa, and I won't be able to grant Tristan's dad his wish, whatever that might be. Shit! I’m an asshole.

I pass the food court; I lost my appetite. Somehow this whole Christmas thing is beginning to depress me. I should have stayed away from this place.

I'm sitting in the breakfast room of the hotel, when a very happy Prof. Brunelli enters the room, waving a newspaper.

"Tristan, when were you going to tell me about your secret side job?"

"I beg your pardon?"

He shows me the front page of the local newspaper, where I can see a picture of me, sitting on the bench at the mall, that ridiculous Santa hat on my head, holding Tristan in my lap just when he whispers his Christmas wish into my ear. And that's not all. Its subtitle says: Here is the proof. Santa really works 24/7. Even in his private time he listens to the children's wishes. And for all of you out there who ever wanted to know if Santa's first name really is Nick, it’s NOT! It's Tristan. And he currently resides…no, no even Santa needs some peace and quiet every now and then. Thank you, Santa!

Thank you for reading! Reactions and comments are always appreciated. Very. 
 @Valkyrie for  your patient editing and thoughtful beta-reading. 
Once again, it feels like I forgot something.