Very Merry Married (Kringle Family Christmas)

“Yeah?” He said with a smile. “What’s the gist?”

“Christmas, Christmas, and nothing but Christmas.”

“You don’t like Christmas?” Ethan asked as we walked back from the tree farm.

“No, I like it just fine.” I loved/hated it, actually, but we weren’t going to get into that. “But what do you guys do in August?”

“Get ready for Christmas?” He smiled again and I couldn’t help but smile back at him. It was impossible not to like him. Was this some kind of politician mind trick? Was I falling for something that a million people fell for? My mom used to say that when my father, who’d been a California state senator, looked at her she felt like the only person in the world. I’d always rolled my eyes at the notion, but now here I was being mind-tricked.

“We used to have people come for hiking. Mom would make the picnic lunches and Dad would draw maps to all the trails only the locals knew. But I don’t know if they do that anymore.”

‘You’re not involved in the day-to-day?” I asked, filing all these little tidbits away in case they came in handy working at the front desk. I’d had a job for a few weeks working concierge at the Sands and it was like having to be a historian, parking attendant, and tour guide all at once.

“No,” he said. “Not since last year, and if I’m being honest, way before that. Since Mom died, really.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What about you and your family? And sorry if you already told me all this.”

“I don’t think I did.”

“You don’t remember?” He looked at me, laughing. “I’ve been feeling like the world’s worst person and you don’t remember either? I’m relieved.”

“There was a lot of tequila,” I said.

But I did remember. I remembered every minute.

He laughed. He had a good laugh. The kind that made a person smile. Another politician mind trick. Honestly, I should have paid more attention to this when Mom talked about my dad. “But it’s just my mom and me.”

“You’re close?”

“Very.” Too close? An argument could be made for that. I could feel his attention, his wanting to know more, but I ignored him and he finally glanced away. If he wasn’t going to talk about his mother, I certainly wasn’t going to talk about mine.

We stepped back into the house only to find the little boy and girl who had checked in earlier standing at the front desk.

“There you are,” the girl said with the kind of bluntness most people didn’t like in a kid, but all I saw when I looked at her was a dance captain or the President of the United States. She was going to run shit. And I’d been such a timid kid, blushing bright red if anyone ever so much as looked at me. I was always a little in awe of kids who knew themselves and could talk to adults.

“I was wondering if we could walk your dog again?” the boy asked politely. They were about the same age these two. The sweet spot before puberty fucked with their skin and their brains.

“Sure,” I said and turned to my bag, which was empty. Baby Girl was curled up on Chris’s chest, a little brown splotch on his red flannel shirt.

Awww…he did like high-maintenance dogs. Go figure.

“But it seems like she’s sleeping right now.”

“Walk?” the girl said and Baby Girl opened her eyes. “She’s not sleeping anymore.” The little girl said with a slightly evil grin.

“Okay,” I said, sizing the girl up. “But I don’t let Baby Girl go away with people I don’t know. What are your names?”

“I’m Chelsea,” the girl said.

“I’m Ben,” the boy said.

“Okay Ben and Chelsea, I’m Lexie and you can take Baby Girl out for five minutes, but if she starts shaking you need to bring her back earlier. If you’re not back in five minutes you don’t get to walk her again.”

Chelsea blinked and she was trying to figure out a way to argue with me, but was coming up blank.

That’s right, I thought. You have met your match.

I’d been a timid kid who’d had to grow a backbone real quick once my boobs started coming in.

The kids took my dog out for a walk and I wasn’t worried about them being gone too long. I could see them through the plate glass window in the door.

“Wow,” Ethan said. “I guess I don’t need to worry about you.”

“Why would you?” I said.

Ethan and his father shared a quick look and then Ethan grabbed his coat off the rack and, to everyone’s surprise, leaned in and kissed me. A quick peck on the cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at me with wide eyes. And I remembered how that night, even as he’d pulled my hair, smacked my ass, and moved my body around like I was made out of feathers to fuck me in the position he wanted me in, he’d been big on consent, in a way no man who’d ever given me multiple orgasms had ever been in my life. “That was weird of me.”