Santa In Love

By Isabella Gallo

Santa knows when you’ve been bad or good, but does he know how to win the affection of the small-town woman who has captivated his heart? ‘Santa in Love’ is a lighthearted Christmas romance with crackerjack handyman Evan as a department store Santa. Molly wants to renovate her grandma’s old house and showcase her skills with how-to videos, but she lacks home repair expertise. When Molly’s nephew tells Santa that his aunt needs help, Evan surreptitiously makes some repairs himself, but Molly is upset because she thinks he sees her as helpless. Can the house and the relationship both be fixed?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9780359096961

Book preview

Santa In Love

Santa In Love

Isabella Gallo

2008

© 2018 Isabella Gallo. All rights reserved.

ISBN 978-0-359-09696-1

When you see Santa Claus in a department store you might imagine him to be a tireless disciple of the true North Pole King of Christmas.  He maintains his jolly disposition without complaint, enduring wet lollipops placed in his beard, crying children, and demanding parents.  But who is the man behind the beard? What brought him to his department store throne?  And what does he himself want for Christmas?

Chapter 1

Evan Dempsey’s vision of sugarplums danced in his head but not in the traditional manner. He was chopping down sugarplum trees.  Each tree branch was heavily laden with candy wrapped in colorful foil. As lumberjack Evan felled a tree and the branches crashed to the ground children rushed to pluck the candy from the tree. It was like a piñata but without any doubt every child would share the bounty equally. It smelled so much like coffee though. That was weird. Why did sugarplum trees smell like coffee? Evan felt as if his eyes were practically sealed shut but forced them open.  What was he doing in his childhood bedroom? As his brainwaves changed to full waking status he remembered. He WAS in his childhood home.

I remember you like your coffee with cream and sugar.  Evan quickly sat up upon hearing his father’s voice right next to the bed. I made you breakfast in bed just for your first day back, so don’t think this is going to happen every day.

Thanks, Dad.  Evan set the tray on his lap. Coffee, toast, and a bowl of corn flakes with milk.  Looks good.

I know it’s not fancy, but this is best cooking I can muster nowadays. Evan’s father Ed sat on the edge of the bed. He was wearing his daily uniform of jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. His graying muzzle matched his full head of thick gray hair, with sparkling blue eyes in between.

This is more than I usually had for breakfast back in Chicago, Evan said as he began gulping coffee. Evan was ruggedly handsome, with thick brown hair and blue eyes like his father’s. 

It’s good to have you back, son. I’m glad you’re here but I hope you didn’t come back home thinking I needed taken care of.

Evan smiled. Dad, you can still run circles around me anytime, I know that. It was just the right time for me to sell my business.  Ten years building it up was enough. It got to the point I was just passing the time. I needed a change.

Ed smiled. I’m proud of you, Evan. You went to the big city and made it. All those property renovations your company did, all the pictures of your work making it into those magazines.

Evan picked up the cereal bowl to drink the last bit of milk. Evan had worked alongside his father for years learning everything there was to know about home building. They’d spent a lot of time together working on home renovations while Evan was growing up, so they were very close. A homemade device his father had fashioned and called the 3D measuring stick was part of their daily routine. It wasn’t until Evan left town and started his own home remodeling business that he realized the 3D measuring stick was one-of-a-kind. Evan remade the device with a more durable material and contacted a patent attorney. After about four years of searches and red tape, Evan and Ed Dempsey were awarded a patent on the ruler. Evan had licensed use of the patent to a ruler manufacturer in Wisconsin and the royalties from sales, though not enough to live on, provided a small, steady stream of income to pay part of their monthly bills.

Ed took the tray from Evan. Okay, that’s enough pampering for you! Time to get to work helping your dear old dad. We’re up to the wazoo in contracts. People want everything done in time for Christmas. It’s the same thing every year.  Ed took the tray downstairs as the telephone rang.

Evan quickly dressed and marveled at the fact that his father still had a landline. The move from Chicago back to his hometown of Millersville was going to be a bit more of an adjustment than he thought.  It was true he’d become bored with the home renovation business he’d started from scratch 10 years ago in Chicago. He’d gotten a great offer to sell to a larger company but his decision to come back home wasn’t only motivated by money. His father was getting older and Evan worried about him living alone. Evan’s mother had passed several years ago after a brief battle with cancer. Ed was still quite fit for his age but understandably seemed lonely.   Still, the main reason Evan was back in his childhood bedroom, with Duran Duran posters still stuck to the wall, was that something was missing from his life in Chicago. He had no family there.

Evan thought he’d find a wife in the big city. There were about three million people there! At least a couple of hundred thousand must be single women.  Evan had toyed with the idea of whether or not to date clients but so seldom were his clients single women that he’d never had to make a difficult decision on that.  It seemed contrary to his analytical nature that he’d have a better chance at meeting women in his own hometown with a much smaller pool of candidates, but after ten years of big city life he was ready to move to plan B. Evan felt that once he’d hit his thirties that he was behind schedule in terms of his personal life.  His career had taken off way faster than expected, but on the home front he was still a bachelor.  His life plan had him married in his late twenties, first child at age thirty, and the second one on the way by now.  He had a lot of catching up to do but it was hard when first you needed to find a wife to get started.

Ed was hanging up the phone as Evan came into the kitchen.  That was Stewart’s Department Store, Ed said, They want me to play Santa Claus again this year, but I told them I don’t have time. I have so much work to get done before Christmas.

What! You have to be Santa! You’ve been doing it for almost thirty years! Evan barely remembered when his mother took him to see Santa at Stewart’s when he was almost four years old. It’s hard to believe now that he wouldn’t recognize his own father playing the part but hey, he was a little kid.  He figured it out the following year, shouting Daddy in the middle of Stewarts. It was a happy screamed but tinged with confusion since he thought Daddy had somehow been transformed into Santa and would live at the North Pole instead of at home with Mommy and Evan. Since Evan was an only child the family of three had been close.

This is the busiest Christmas I’ve had in twenty years. Everybody wants their projects done yesterday. Plus, my back’s been acting up. It’s hard for me to sit in that Santa uniform for hours and hours.

But Dad, it’s a family tradition, Evan almost whined.

I know, Ed smiled, That’s why I told them you’d be taking over this year.

Chapter 2

Evan stopped to look at the Christmas window displays on his way into Stewarts. The first window had a sleigh and reindeer parked atop a roof with a chubby Santa out of his sleigh and trying to fit into a chimney.  Santa’s lower legs were down the chimney, but he was stuck at thigh level.  As a child Evan had loved the annual window displays at Stewarts. Nothing had changed. He chuckled at the sight of Santa trying to fit down the chute.

The next window had elves in Santa’s workshop building a variety of toys sold inside at Stewarts. Whoever dressed this window actually had the wherewithal to disassemble some of the toys, so they would look like works-in-progress instead of finished merchandise.  Dolls, trains, video gameboards, virtual reality headsets, the works. Evan wondered where elves had learned the technology to make high tech virtual reality headsets.  Evan glanced at the large clock in the elves workshop and hurried in to the store. Ten-thirty already. He had to be dressed and lap-ready by 11:00am. 

Hello, Mr. Santa. I’m your helper. An attractive blond woman in her mid-twenties cooed at Evan. I’m your chief elf. You’re supposed to call me Noelle, but my real name is Nikki. Nikki was dressed in a very short green skirt with faux fur trim. Her sweater was matching green with slots for about fifty candy canes to give out to the kids after their tete-a-tete with Santa.  Her top was fully loaded with candy canes. She smiled. Do you need any help getting into your Santa suit?  Evan tried to picture Nikki manufacturing toys as the elves in the window display were doing. He couldn’t quit picture her doing much except dressing the dolls and combing their hair.  No, I’ve got it. I’ll be out to the chair at 11:00 sharp, Evan stammered.  Nikki smiled as Evan walked away towards his dressing room, Let me know if you need any help . . . with anything.

At 11am Evan stepped out from behind the curtain and took his place on Santa’s throne. There were already about twenty-five kids and their parents lined up to see him.  Nikki opened the red velvet rope to allow the first child into Santa’s inner sanctum. It was a little girl no more than 3 years old, almost being dragged by her mother down the short path to Santa’s chair.  Evan could see it coming. As soon as her mom picked the little girl up and put her on Santa’s lap she started screaming. Real tears of terror streamed down her face and she stared wide-eyed at Santa. Evan was unprepared and unaccustomed to dealing with young children.

Ho, ho, ho, Evan began, speaking as gently as possible. And what can Santa bring you for Christmas? The girl screamed louder. How about a puppy? The girl’s mother sharply shook her head ‘no’ and glared at Santa. No, did Santa say puppy? I meant guppy. The girl continued to scream until her mother picked her up, still crying, and exited through the gate of the white picket fence surrounding Santa’s Village.

Don’t ever suggest a pet, Nikki whispered, as she allowed a seven-year-old boy beyond the velvet rope. 

I’m Roger, he said as he climbed onto Evan’s lap. Roger’s mother stood a respectable distance away. Look, I know you’re not real. You’re just here as a marketing gimmick so Stewarts gets customers coming in instead of buying everything online. Evan tried to maintain his jolly Santa expression while Roger continued. I’m willing to go through the motions to appease my mom. If I play along I get presents from my parents plus from you.  Evan gave his jolliest ‘Ho, ho, ho’. Roger smiled, Hey, that’s great! You’re better than the Santa they had here last year. He was so old. Roger jumped off Santa’s lap and ran to his waiting mom. She smiled at Evan and walked away holding Roger’s hand.

I’m zero for two, Evan muttered to himself. Nikki let the next boy into Santa’s Village. He was about five years old, with curly red hair and freckles. He shyly sat on Santa’s lap. What’s your name? Evan asked. Brian, he replied. Yes, Brian, of course! I remember you now. Evan figured he’d swing for the fences. I’ve been watching you and you’ve been extra good this year.  Thanks, Santa, I appreciate the positive feedback. Evan smiled, What can I bring you for Christmas? Brian thought for a few seconds. Well, I really haven’t given it much thought.  We were shopping for kitchen faucets and saw you here, so we stopped so I could talk to you.

Evan looked at the woman waiting for Brian outside the Village fence. Nice smile, he thought, classy camel-haired coat, down-to-earth looking. Why were all the good ones already married with children? So, your mother wants a new faucet for Christmas?  I can put that on my list if she’s a good mommy. Has she been a good mommy?

No, Brian said, she’s not my mother. That’s my Aunt Molly. She babysits me. My parents work all the time, so Aunt Molly watches me.  Aren’t you supposed to know all this stuff already?

Evan answered, Santa’s a little confused this year. We switched our database to the cloud and some of the data got deleted during a lightning storm. 

Brian looked at Santa and for a moment Evan thought he said something wrong again, but Brian seemed to accept the explanation.

Yeah, sometimes my computer games just freeze up., Brian nodded.   Evan sighed, Let’s get down to business. What do you want for Christmas?

Well, I could use a new bike. My old one is for little kids. And maybe more video games. And maybe help for Aunt Molly, Brian concluded, thinking that asking for his aunt might stand him in good stead with Santa.

What does your aunt need help with? Evan asked.

Everything! Brian exclaimed, She’s trying to fix an old house and she’s totally clueless.  She doesn’t know a Philips head from a flathead

Can’t your uncle help out? What uncle? Brian asked, There’s no uncle, just Aunt Molly.

"Is that so?’ Evan smiled.

My mom says if Aunt Molly doesn’t quit being so picky she’s going to end up being an old maid. We were playing that card game Old Maid, so I think it means she gets that card.

What does Aunt Molly need besides a faucet?

We ordered the faucet. We have to come back to get it day after tomorrow. She has to fix the fence around the house, the window is broke, all kinds of stuff.

Well, Santa will see what he and the elves can do to help your Aunt and to get you some nice presents under your tree on Christmas morning.

Brian slid off Santa’s lap and offered his hand to shake Evan’s.  Very unusual for a five-year-old, Evan thought. After their handshake Brian bounded to his Aunt Molly, who gave a wave to Santa and mouthed ‘thank you’.

Chapter 3

The large beige box building sat alone on a country road. Outside of the natural pines dotting the surrounding area, there wasn’t a hint of green, Christmas or otherwise. A lonely brown vine wreath hung on the large beige signage proclaiming Briarwood Manor, along with a forlorn red ribbon. The aging manor for the aged was flanked by a large asphalt parking lot with a cluster of staff cars parked in named slots. The visitor parking section was empty. Inside the matching beige interior, a group of residents were playing cards.

Amanda Mae, Molly’s grandmother, took note that all the other ‘girls’ sported bright red nail polish as she doled out the playing cards. Amanda Mae’s polish was lavender purple. The only other holdout was Nelly, with a green painted pinky on her left hand. The entire table of ladies had fanned their cards, cast off unwanted ones, while Amanda Mae was yet to raise hers. Finally, Nelly wagged her pinky in Amanda Mae’s face.

Amanda Mae, or Mae-maw as Brian called her, lifted her cards and mindlessly cast two away. The ladies exchanged concerned looks. You feeling ok, Amanda Mae? Did you forget your meds? You look so far off. Amanda Mae really didn’t want to say that she was thinking of something rather close, her upcoming Christmas holiday with her family. Lydia lived only an hour away but since both she and her husband worked full time there weren’t frequent enough visits for Amanda Mae’s taste. Her most frequent visitor was her granddaughter Molly, who often brought Amanda Mae’s great-grandson Brian. I’m just fine. It’s just that you ladies look like you’re a lot more ready for Christmas than I am. Amanda Mae, did you forget about the Christmas party we’re having here, it’s only a week away, came the excited reply. Amanda Mae nodded, not wanting to mention that as much as she had come to love her fellow residents, all of them put together, as well as everyone in the whole world, couldn’t replace her departed husband Clifford. She did enjoy their company though, and sometimes she missed living in her big old house. It had just become so lonely there without Clifford. If only she could take them all home with her.

Home to her was the place she lived and raised her family, not the modern beige house where Lydia lived, where she expected to be for Christmas. Her home was alive with color, fun times and people, especially the people. She smiled at the animated women, and they would fit right in there. Here, in Briarwood Manor, they were the liveliest bunch, especially when Amanda Mae was involved. She was like extra caffeine in their wake-up coffee. Truth was the Manor only served decaf, but Amanda Mae always had some fast-acting java beans for anyone who asked. She was also known to carry around a flask of flavored vodka, but that was reserved for her closest buddies.

In fact, Amanda Mae didn’t belong in Briarwood Manor, or any other care facility for that matter. True, she needed rehab a long time ago after a fall suffered while trying to clean her chandelier. In a few weeks she was as good as new but had laid claim to a whole bunch of kindred spirits, as she would call them, and they returned the sentiment. And she didn’t want to go back to that lovely, but lonely, old house without her husband of 43 years being there. Since Clifford had passed several years ago the big house seemed too sad for Amanda Mae without him there.  She would keep the house, as a treasure, something she could look at now and then and know it would always been there for her if she ever decided to rejoin life out in the world.

That’s what she always thought would be the case. Now her granddaughter Lydia seemed determined to sell it, kept grinding her about how run down it was, how many repairs it need, and the cost! Oh, how she wished she was hale and hearty, she would show Lydia a thing or two about repairs.

Lydia may know how to push paper around, but Amanda Mae was holding her ground. It was her property and her decision.  She realized her tenacity was no deterrent for Lydia. Her hope, as slim as it seemed, resided in Molly. She would do anything she could to help Molly get the house back in shape. Molly had been interested in renovating the house as practice for getting her one-woman home rehab and redecorating business up and running. Getting Molly up to speed in the proper care of it was an entirely a different matter.  Amanda Mae knew at heart Molly was an artist, not a carpenter.  Molly loved decorating and had quite a flair for it, but she was a total novice at physical rehab of property.  Of course, this was only more fodder for Lydia who claimed that Molly lacked the know-how and experience to fix up the seven years of neglect of Amanda Mae’s house. 

The chatter at the table continued. By this time Amanda had lost three hands, not that she cared. She was just glad she didn’t have to shuffle and could think without having to respond to chatter. Without all