Kissing Kringle - A Forever Safe Christmas

“That’s a beautiful name for her.” I look up and see that Ruthie is standing over me. I blush scarlet.

“Oh gosh! I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for anyone to hear that.” She smiles at me.

“It’s time to clock out but you can come back by tomorrow and see her.” I sigh. Damn. I am having a hell of a time putting her back. It kills me to know that she will be here all night by herself. I’m half tempted to kiss her little forehead, but I don’t want to seem creepy. Rubie hands me a piece of paper. “Here ya go! Give this to Willy on Monday.” I just nod and start to make my way home. All the while feeling like I just left a little piece of me at the hospital.

Problem is, I don’t know if it’s all Kayleigh or if Sexy Santa has a little something to do with it.

Chapter 5

Nicolas

After my second round of pictures with the kids, I head back to the nursery to tell my lighter fighter goodnight. The first thing I notice is Kristina’s perfume lingering in the room. She’s been in here. The next thing I notice is that there is finally a name card on the bassinet. Kayleigh. I find that it suits her. The more I look at the little treasure, the more I know she’s supposed to be my daughter. I gently touch her little belly, as she already sleeping, and leave without waking her. Before leaving the hospital, I stop by Ruthie’s office.

“What’s up boss?” she asks looking up from her desk.

“Someone named the baby,” I say.

“I know. I think it works, don’t you?”

“I did. Who named her?”

“A new volunteer. Kristina,” she starts but I interrupt her.

“Bell?”

“Yes. You met her?”

“Something like that. How can I get in touch with her? Her address?” I know she said she’d be here tomorrow, but I can’t wait that long. She named my baby, for fuck’s sake. That has to mean that she’s mine.

“You know I can’t tell you that, Nick. It wouldn’t be right to give the home information of a high school student,” she says, dropping a bomb on me. I swallow thickly. Did she just say what I think she did? High school? Did I really just make a high school student moan and come all over my beard and fingers? And while that does give me a moment’s pause, I also find that I don’t think I care.

“High school?” I croak out.

“Jesus, what did you do?” she asks, but the look on her face tells me she already knows.

“I fell in love with a high school student?” Okay, so saying it out loud makes it worse. So much worse. I feel the walls closing in on me.

“Nick, calm the hell down. You know all of our volunteers have to be eighteen for insurance purposes,” she says smirking at me.

“Oh, right. I’m gonna need her address, Ruthie,” I tell her immediately able to breathe again. But let’s face it, I’d happily have gone to jail for the chance to love her again and again. I don’t know what this says about me. It’s Kristina though. She brings out the animal in me. The animal I didn’t know was there. I watch as Ruthie quickly writes something on a sticky note and hands it to me.

“This goes against my better judgment. Don’t do anything stupid,” she warns.

“I literally can’t promise that. Thank you, Ruthie. You don’t know what this means to me. Merry Christmas.”

“You too, boss. Can I offer you a word of advice about Ms. Bell?”

“Of course.”

“It’s not my place to tell you this, and I can’t really say more, but tread lightly. She’s had nothing but a shitty go of it her whole life. I don’t think she needs the knight in shining armor or maybe that’s exactly what she needs,” she says shrugging. That’s cryptic and not all that helpful.

“How do you know this?” I ask looking at the address. It’s in the Bronx but other than that I know nothing about the area.

“My husband is her guidance counselor. See you at the corporate Christmas party tomorrow night.”

“Looking forward to it,” I say before leaving the office. I exit the hospital without talking to anyone else. I lose the coat and beard as soon as I get to my car. I have a lot to think about on my drive. What should only take thirty minutes tops takes about two hours in the lingering rush hour traffic. When I pull up to a tiny, disheveled duplex, I think this can’t be right. I get out of the car. It’s dark but the streetlights aren’t on. I see a drug deal going down on the corner and glass breaking somewhere nearby. I hear shouting coming from all directions.