My Secret Santa's Secret Baby

I hoped whoever had given them to me would notice and see how thrilled I was with their generosity. The muffins I planned on bringing seemed to fall somewhat short to show my gratitude.

The bus rumbled under me and I tried to figure out who my benefactor had been. I knew Christmas was supposed to be the season of giving. My folks had taken that expression to a new sort of extreme, giving thousands of dollars to charity every holiday season.

It was a nice though, to be sure, except it usually left us without money for a tree, let alone presents or a big dinner. I was only vaguely aware that people were supposed to get presents for Christmas, never having actually experienced it myself.

But there were a lot of holiday traditions I’d missed out on. I nearly fainted the first time I had a taste of eggnog.

It was a similar situation with Secret Santa. The first time I’d come across the notion was in the book Perks of Being A Wallflower. But I had never participated in any such thing in real life.

What I had decided to get as my first gift for my Secret Santee, if that was the proper term for them, wasn’t much. Especially if I was doing Secret Santa for the same person who was doing mine. A handmade picture frame hardly compared to sapphires from Tiffany’s, but I couldn’t let the thought psych me out.

If whoever was Santaing for me wanted to be generous, who was I to object or judge?

Especially because I really hoped it was Simon.

Whatever it lacked in expense, because I had yet to get my first paycheck, the gift made up for in presentation. I’d long been a master gift wrapper. It was mostly a matter of reverse-engineering the process of opening that I’d been taught on my birthday presents, which I got when I wasn’t competing with Jesus, since I was a little girl.

“You shouldn’t have,” Sam joked, as I came up to the security desk, with my gift tucked under my arm so I could be ready to sign the book.

“I didn’t. You can have a muffin though,” I said, offering him the box of them while I signed.

“Thank you kindly.”

Sam looked delighted as he took a big bite out of the double chocolate chuck with sprinkles. It felt good to be able to brighten his day.

“You shouldn’t have,” Inga said, not looking up from her novel.

“Muffin?” I asked, subtly dipping the wrapped present away from her.

“Thank you, sugar,” she winked, taking a carrot muffin with cream cheese icing.

The office was as deserted as ever. There wasn’t any evidence of Simon’s presence. He was probably there, though, closed up in his office, doing the important work of editing. Technically, I worked in editorial as well, but in some ways, what I did wasn’t nearly as important in the big picture.

True, the office couldn’t function if someone didn’t do what I did, but there were always others besides me. As an individual, I didn’t matter much. Simon could be replaced as well, but not without an epic headache. Not least because whoever replaced him could be terrible.

I hadn’t been there a week yet but had already gotten the impression that Simon’s reputation, not only at the company but also in the publishing industry in general, was nothing short of legendary, despite his relatively young age.

I had to read the name tags to find the right cubicle. Leaving the Secret Santa gift on a desk that could only be described as chaotic, I returned to my own little workspace.

And what to my wandering eye should appear but a considerably larger box, wrapped up in the same paper as the earrings. It also included a similar origami-style note, composed in thick paper and fancy ink affixed to the top.

It was just a tag this time, though, with no note written on it. It only added to the mystery of what might be inside, making the whole thing even more exciting. Now I could really see the appeal of Secret Santas.

Fingers shaking slightly with anticipation and excitement, I did my best to carefully unwrap the new gift, which I could already tell was in a box, though not one as instantly recognizable as a Tiffany’s jewelry box.

Plain white, the box betrayed little hint of what was inside. Though, really, with a box that size, there were only so many things it could possibly be. It turned out that my third guess was correct, although the exact details had been beyond my ability to guess.

It was perfume. Not just any perfume, however. It was from a notoriously rare and discontinued line, fetching a king’s ransom online from the few people who had had the foresight and luck to have stockpiled at the time it was being sold. It was so rare that it might as well have been a diamond.