Super Secret Santa

I looked forward to seeing her wearing my name. A big part of me wanted her to take it as her own, forever. But I knew I was really putting the cart before the horse, and I told myself to just see what the day had in store before jumping ahead so far into the future.

I also had a football signed by the players after Superbowl XLVI. They won a few months before I joined the team. I had a feeling that Mark would appreciate showing the ball to his friends. I would have to remind Becca not to let him throw it around the yard, though.

My phone buzzed to let me know that my Uber XL had arrived, so I packed up everything in a couple large shopping bags and the driver took me across the river to Becca’s. It was looking like I would arrive a few minutes early.

Mark answered the door when I knocked, letting me in.

“Hi, Neil!” he said excitedly.

“Hi, buddy.” I smiled down at him, glad to see him so happy.

He brought me over to the tree and showed me all his presents, eyeing the large shopping bag I was carrying. I took out the ball and jersey, and Mark got super excited. I showed him the extra jersey for Becca.

“Do you think your mom will like it?”

Mark nodded vigorously.

“I also have the curtains I forgot to bring last night,” I said, as I pulled them out of the bag.

The curtains were a shade of deep jade, in a thick, expensive fabric that I had had specially made. The seamstress said they were very nice yet also washable. My agent got the measurements of the front window from his real estate friend.

I took down the old navy-blue ones, thinning and sun-faded, and replaced them with the new ones. I hadn’t thought to buy new fixtures as well, but the current ones worked.

Even this small gesture seemed to excite Mark. I realized it wasn’t because he liked curtains, but because he knew his mom deserved something nice.

“They’re Mom’s favorite color, too.”

“I know. I remember.”

Jade green, to match her eyes.

“Hi there! I made chocolate chip pancakes for Mark, and Eggs Benedict for us,” Becca said, coming from the kitchen.

I tried to look away from her deep green eyes, which seemed to have gold flecks like gemstones, before I said something stupid, like, “Merry Christmas, I love you.”

That would not be very fucking smooth of me.

She had put some makeup on, though, I noticed. Maybe she was feeling the same way about me.

“Oh. I love the curtains. They’re perfect, and my favorite color.”

Becca came up and hugged me, as Mark wandered away, seeming to know we would want our privacy.

“I remembered from high school. You always had a lot of green. Backpack, hoodies, sweaters. I figured it was still your favorite, since you were wearing that green sweater at the community center. I always liked the color because it matched your eyes.”

“You have a great memory,” she said.

“Only about important things,” I told her, with a wink.

She blushed and smiled, and it was so adorable that I wanted to kiss her. But I didn’t want to make Mark feel awkward or uncomfortable, so I figured it would have to wait until later.

We all three sat down to breakfast, after which I went out front with Mark to throw around his new football from Becca. Mark’s grandma, Donna came early to pick him up. Apparently, she had called Becca and asked if they could get an earlier start so she could resume cooking for her family.

Donna shook my hand, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. I imagined she saw me as the man who wanted to replace her deceased son, and I couldn’t fault her for her uneasiness. She didn’t know me, and if she read the papers and all their scandalous headlines about me… well, then, I guess I could see how she wouldn’t be a very good grandma if she didn’t have some concerns.

I wished I could tell her I was a reformed man, and very much into Becca, but I doubt that would help my case much. So, I said nothing except to tell her goodbye on her way out. She barely nodded her recognition as she left, but Mark turned around and said, “Bye, Neil! Thanks for the gifts!”

Becca and I sat down on the sofa after Mark left, drinking homemade eggnog with a bit of Jamaican rum added. I had never tasted anything so perfect for Christmas. It was thick and creamy, with sprinkles of nutmeg.

Becca talked, and I listened to her tell me more about the failed relationship she had had with Mark’s father, and how she had remained alone by choice since he died two years ago, rather than risk Mark possibly getting attached to another father figure, only to lose him if the relationship didn’t work out.