Santa (Maybe): A Rom Com Novella (5 page)

“Well, we were playing this game, see—“

“
What kind of game?”

“You know those Santa
gummies I brought?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we were having a contest to see who could snort a gummy the farthest.”

“What?” Madeleine was screeching again.

“You know. We were putting gummies up our noses and then snorting them back out.”

Madeleine did a little snorting of her own.

“Don’t worry—“ Ami continued, “—I discouraged her from eating previously-snorted gummies.”

“You still haven’t gotten to why you’re in the Emergency Room.”

“Urgent care. Big dif.” Ami spoke slowly, like she was speaking to a dimwitted child.

“Alright. Why are you in Urgent Care?”

“Emily may have snorted in instead of out, at one point.”

“May have?”

“Well, they haven’t found gummy Santa yet. They haven’t actually started looking. There are two bad backs and an asthma attack ahead of us.”

“
Ami!”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” She did sound sorry. “I probably should have
led with the ‘I’m sorry’.”
 

Mark
couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on, but Urgent Care didn’t sound good. Madeleine got off the phone with Ami. She turned to Mark.

“Do you mind? I don’t want to take the time to go home and get my own car.”

“Sure. No problem,” Mark said. “What happened?”

“Gummy Santa snorting contest gone bad.” Madeleine looked less panicky, but Mark knew better than to laugh.

It only took 10 minutes to get to the clinic. Emily was in high spirits. She sounded like she had a bad cold when she talked, but otherwise she seemed to regard the trip to Urgent Care as a treat. She showed off the stickers the intake nurse had given her.

Emily
seemed mildly curious about who Mark was and why he was there, but that was it. Emily certainly hadn’t made the connection between Mall Santa and Mark. That was a relief.

“You don’t have to stay,” Madeleine told Mark.

He couldn’t tell whether she wanted him to leave or stay. Maybe, she hadn’t yet made up her mind herself.

“
I don’t mind.”

“Really. It’s going to be ages
. After we’re done here, I think it’s best if I just take Emily home.”

“OK.” Madeleine didn’t want him to stay.
He’d go.

“Emily and I haven
’t eaten anything yet—well, if you don’t count Santa gummies,” Ami piped up. “Did you guys eat? You must be hungry. I sure am hungry.”

Emily said she was hungry. Madeleine didn’t say a thing.

“No, we didn’t get that far,” Mark said. Madeleine must want him to go, Mark decided. But he was wavering on his resolution to leave. “I could go get food for everybody and bring it back here,” he offered.

“That’s a great idea!”
Ami winked at Mark.

Madeleine
didn’t notice the wink. She appeared fascinated by an article in a women’s magazine dated from July of the previous year. Or she would have appeared fascinated if Mark hadn’t observed that she’d been reading the same page over and over since she’d picked it up.

Mark was back in 20 minutes with burgers for everyone. His date with Madeleine might not have turned out as he’d planned
, but at least they would still end up the evening eating burgers together.

On the way back from the burger
place, Mark had started to worry that Ami might blow his cover while he was away.  Why hadn’t he spoken up immediately when Madeleine had wrongly guessed his identity? He was going to have to set the record straight as soon as possible. He hoped Ami hadn’t inadvertently already done it for him.

He walked back into the waiting room with burgers and fries
for everyone. He tried to gauge Madeleine’s expression, but she looked the same as when he’d left. Ami grabbed a burger and bit into it as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Emily took hers apart and ate each ingredient separately. Madeleine thanked Mark for the burger, but she left it in the wrapper. Ami inhaled her burger and scarfed down her own fries and half of Emily’s. Then she got chatty.

“So, Madeleine—“
Ami asked, “—did Mark tell you he—“

Mark didn’t let
Ami finish.

“Yeah. She was pretty shocked to hear that I was Joe’s old friend
Marcus Silvin
.” Mark said Marcus Silvin way too loud, but he couldn’t risk his point passing over Ami’s head. Rarely did anything go over Ami’s head. She smiled a fake smile and slapped him on the back. A lot too hard.

“Little Marky Silvin!”
Ami slapped him on the back again. Even harder. “Difficult to see any resemblance to the boy he was in high-school, huh Madeleine?”

“I wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t told me, for sure,” Madeleine said.

He hadn’t told her. This was all wrong. He was digging himself a hole. He should correct Madeleine right now. There wasn’t going to be a better time.

“I could have sworn that in high-school you had green eyes,”
Ami said.

Mark tried to remember what color eyes Marcus Silvin did have. He
couldn’t remember much about Marcus Silvin. He wasn’t at all sure that Marcus Silvin was someone he wanted to be mistaken for.

“You know, what? I know you’re Marcus Silvin, but
out of all Joe’s high-school friends, you actually look a lot more like—“ Madeleine was suddenly animated.

Mark
thought about cutting her off, but he was so curious, he let her finish.

“—who was that guy,
Ami? You know. That sweet little guy who had such an enormous crush on me?”

Ami
almost aspirated her cola.

“He had a funny nickname.
What was it? He was such a sweetheart, though. Remember after my law-school graduation, when I lost that—“

Ami
recovered her composure.

“You
must mean Matchstick?”

“That’s him!” Madeleine said. “You remember him, Mark?
Poor homely little thing. I thought it was kind of mean to call him Matchstick, but it certainly was an appropriate nickname.”

Ami
glared at Mark. He was sure that if they’d been sitting at a table, she would have been kicking him under it. Mark pretended to be thinking. Ami sat with her arms folded while giving Mark the stink-eye.

Madeleine
looked up. A harried nurse was calling for Emily Morgan.

Madeleine took
Emily’s hand and followed the nurse. When she looked back, Ami was still glaring at Mark. That was very odd. Ami liked Mark. Why was she angry with him all of a sudden?

T
hey got the gummy Santa out. The young Doctor, who had the grace not to laugh, put the offending candy into a zip-lock bag and handed it to Emily.

“Put it under your pillow,” the doctor said. He
smiled at Madeleine. “You might get a visit from the Nose Fairy.”

Now
Emily was sure stick to something up her nose every chance she got. This man obviously had no kids of his own.

The doctor bent down on Emily’s level and said in a very solemn voice,
”But remember, the Nose Fairy visits only once in your lifetime. This is your big chance. Never, ever stick anything else up your nose again.”

Well, maybe he did have a kid.
He understood how the typical kid’s mind works, anyway.

“OK,” said Emily. Then remember
ing her manners, she added, “Thank you.”

Madeleine wanted to get Emily home as soon as possible. It was w
ell past her bedtime. She’d had far too much excitement and tomorrow was a school day. Emily would be a wreck by the end of the next day.

W
hen they got back out to the waiting room, Mark was gone. Ami still looked angry, but she gave no explanation either for Mark’s absence or her own stormy looks.

By the time they made it back to Madeleine’s house and Emily was safely tucked in bed,
Ami was ready to spill. Well, almost ready.

“What’s going on,
Ami?”

“Not much.”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re mad at Mark. Why?”

“You know how Mark told you that he’s—
you know what?” Ami paused and pulled out her phone. She dialed. “Hello, Mark. Just for the record, you’re a world-class wuss! Here’s my sister. Tell her!”

Ami
handed Madeleine the phone.

“Hello.” Mark didn’t sound too happy.

“Hi. What’s Ami talking about?”

There was a long pause on the other end.

“You know how you guessed that I’m Marcus Silvin?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, think back. Did I actually tell you that I’m Marcus Silvin?”

Madeleine thought back. She remembered guessing. Then
Ami called. No. He hadn’t actually told her who he was.

“
You’re saying you’re not Marcus?”

“Well, according to my birth certificate
my name is Marcus, just not Marcus Silvin.”

“Is the part about being a friend of Joe’s true?”

“100%”

“But Joe only ha
d only one friend named Mark?”

“You never
knew me as Mark.”

“Oh.”

It couldn’t be. Mark couldn’t be—although she’d come up with that thought herself. She’d even laughed at the idea. No. It was too mortifying. She hoped it wasn’t true. After the insulting things she’d said about—

“Matchstick. Are you Matchstick?”

“Yes.”

“Mark, I mean Matchstick—I
mean Mark—I feel terrible.“

“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t say anything
about me that wasn’t true.”

Madeleine didn’t know what to say.

“Why don’t we save this conversation for when we’re both a little less tired? How about dinner tomorrow evening?” Mark suggested.

“I can’t.
Office Christmas party.”

Madeleine
hated her office Christmas party.

“Oh.”

“I really do have to go. Believe me, I’d rather spend the evening with you. I’m sorry.”

There was an obvious question hanging in the air. If she wanted so badly to spend the evening with him, why didn’t she invite him to go as her date? It wasn’t like she already had a date lined up.
No, she wasn’t ready for that.

“How about later
? After the party? I can come by your house,” Mark suggested.

Madeleine would come home after Sadie, her regular sitter
, had put Emily to bed. That should work. Her no-men-in-the-house-when-Emily-was-home rule was getting shot to pieces, though.

”
OK. How about 11:00? I’ll slip out of the party early.”

Mark’s
day started out badly. It had snowed during the night and he had to shovel a path down the dock before he could take Festus out for his walk. When he returned from his walk, there was a message scrapped into the frost on wind-shield of his car.
 

CHRISTMAS EVE. DON’T FORGET.
 

Kristen. It had to be Kristen. He snapped a photo of the message. It didn’t amount to much. On its own
, it was hardly threatening.

He had to decide what he was going to do about Christmas
Eve. He’d get up early Christmas morning to drive out to the Olympic Peninsula to spend Christmas with his parents and assorted relatives, but his family had no Christmas Eve tradition. He certainly didn’t plan on sitting at home all evening waiting for Kristen to show up.

Festus. Whatever he did, he’d have to make sure Festus was out of harm’s way. He didn’t think Kristen would hurt
a dog, but he wasn’t sure enough to wait to find out. Festus hated Kristen and he suspected the feeling was mutual.

Mark
wondered what Ami and Madeleine did for Christmas Eve. Their parents were dead. Ten years ago that coming Easter. Car accident. Ami, Joe and Madeleine had all been devastated by the loss, but Mark suspected that Madeleine had had the worst time recovering. Over the years, Ami and Joe had made several comments about how responsible Madeleine felt for her younger siblings. They might all be grown-ups now, but Madeleine still felt it was her role to keep the family close.

They still
had grandparents in town. They probably went there. He shouldn’t be thinking about what Madeleine was doing for Christmas. Even as well as things had been going—at least up until yesterday evening—it was too early to think about spending a holiday together.

Maybe he’d go to a hotel and take Festus with him. That’s what he’d do
. He hoped he wouldn’t come back to find all his windows broken out, or worse. Frankly, Kristen scared the hell out of him.

He’d figure something out. In the meantime, he needed to talk to a friend. It was already midnight in Hong Kong, but Joe was a night owl and this was an emergency.
Joe picked up after the 8
th
ring. He sounded happy to hear from Mark, although it was obvious that Mark’s call had woken him up. They chatted about this and that for a while before Mark got around to the real reason he’d called.

“So, I ran into
both your sisters a few days ago.”

“Great! I keep telling you to call them up.”

Mark wondered if Joe would be so positive if he knew the sort of thoughts Mark had been having about Madeleine.

“Well, things have gotten a little complicated.”

“Even better! You finally got up your nerve. Only took 7 years, but still—“

Joe was taking this better than he’d h
opped.

“Not that kind of complicated. Well,
possibly—“

Joe made him spill everything down to the last detail.
Unfortunately, although Joe offered his enthusiastic support, he had far less to offer in the way of constructive advice.

“Madeleine hasn’t gotten involved with anyone since the divorce. She’ll go out with a guy a couple of times, but then she always kicks him to the curb.”

After they’d talked about Madeleine for a while, Mark told Joe about Kristen.

“Have you told Madeleine about Kristen?”
Joe wanted to know.

Mark
hadn’t. He didn’t intend to. What was the point? It wasn’t like he needed to complicate things further by hitting her up for free legal advice.

“I think you should,” Joe insisted. “And
Ami, too. You have no idea how scary that girl can be when she goes into Mother Hen Mode.”

M
ark didn’t say he wouldn’t tell them, but he didn’t say he would, either. Joe didn’t press him further. Instead, Joe asked Mark for a favor. It wasn’t a big favor. Mark agreed to do it. He knew he’d have nothing better to do, anyway.

“Sure. What time?”

“10:00 AM. There’s one more thing—“

Mark smiled as he listened to Joe on the other end of the line.
The second favor was a lot bigger. And gutsy. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Madeleine would never see it coming.
 

M
adeleine
was late for work. She’d overslept. Emily was tired and cranky and had a melt-down on the drive to school. Getting out of the car at the office, Madeleine snagged her hose. Maybe no one would notice.

“You have a run,” Angela announced as Madeleine made her way down the hall
.

“I know. You don’t have a spare, by any chance
?”

“I do. I always keep one in my bag.”

Of course she did. Madeleine bet Angela never ever forget to replace her spare pair, either. Angela went to retrieve the hose from her bag.

“So
, who are you bringing to the party tonight?” Angela asked as she thrust the hose into Madeleine’s hands.

Angela asked this every year
. Madeleine, just as she had every year since her split from Chad, said she’d be coming on her own.

“
No man of the moment? I do envy you. It’s so boring to go home to the same man every night.”

Really?
Angela made it sound like Madeleine was operating an amateur brothel in her off-hours.

“Actually
, I am seeing someone.” Madeleine couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. Was she seeing someone? It was too soon to tell. But she wasn’t about to backtrack now.

Angela arched one perfectly
-plucked brow.

“He’s an old friend. We reconnected recently.”
Madeleine floundered for an explanation.

“You should bring him to the party.”

“Ah—I think he has to work.”

That was probably true. Although
, Mark had offered to take her out to dinner, so maybe he was doing the afternoon shift at the North Pole.

“Oh, what does he do?” Angela always asked what people did. She was that kind of woman.

Part-time Santa impersonator? Madeleine had a reckless urge to say that out loud just to see the shock on Angela’s face.

“Mark’s a personal trainer.”

“Personal trainer. Very nice! Pays dirt, but still—“

Madeleine didn’t say anything.

“Great body, I bet.”

Madeleine wasn’t in the mood to discuss Mark’s
body with her boss. That was a conversation she would never be in the mood for.

“Does he usually work nights? Isn’t that kind of unusual for a personal trainer?”

“He has a couple of clients that only have time in the evenings.”

“Well, tell him to come down to
Mackinaw’s when he’s done. We’ll be there until at least midnight.”

Mackinaw’s was the bar where they had their Christmas Party every year. It was one of those faux
-Irish pub places with a back room which Angela would rent for the evening. Madeleine had never seen the appeal, but then she didn’t have to foot the bill for the party so who was she to complain?

Madeleine had a meeting with Mr. Foster—the cheating rotten liar—
right before lunch. She still hadn’t come up with a plan to ensure he’d avoid paying alimony. Frankly, she didn’t care. The secret was to be authoritative and convincing when she told him so. If he’d been a different kind of man, she’d have appealed to his compassion and reason. Unfortunately, Mr. F was neither compassionate nor reasonable.

Mr. F arrived at 11:00 accompanied by
Mistress Number Four. Madeleine had already met Mistresses One, Two and Three. Where the man found these woman, Madeleine couldn’t imagine. They were young and attractive. They must be with him for his money. No wonder he was trying to hold onto as much of it as possible.

Madeleine broke the bad news.
Mr. Foster didn’t take it well. Predictably, he blamed everything on his soon-to-be-ex-wife. It was all Madeleine could do to keep her opinions to herself. At one point,  she clamped down on her tongue with her teeth. Every time she had to deal with Mr. Foster it was getting harder to behave professionally. At least he hadn’t caught onto the fact that he had a lawyer who didn’t give a flying flip if he walked away with nothing but the shirt on his back. Oh, well. She’d have to deal with him again in court, but, if she was lucky, this was the last time she’d have to see the man in her office.

Madeleine’s
afternoon was better. While she was taking a late lunch, she got a call from her brother.

Joe got straight to the point.

“I hear you’ve been seeing my friend Mark.”

“’Seeing’ is a loaded term.”

“Alright, ‘spending time with.’”

“I suppose you could say that, but I only ran into him a couple of days ago.”

“So I heard.”

“What do you think of Mark, honestly?”

“I think he’s great! He’s no Chad, if that’s what you’re worried about. He has this wicked crush on you, you know.”

“I do remember that much.
I can’t imagine that makes any difference now.”

“No?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

“So, while we’re being honest. How old is Mark?”

“Not sure. My age I think. His birthday’s in July.”

“So 24ish.”

“You have no idea how old I am either, do you?”

Madeleine made a quick calculation. Joe was right. It was something she should know.

“26ish?”

“Much better.”

“Joe, I have to go. I have a meeting in half an hour. Did I tell you it’s the dreaded office party tonight?”

“Taking Mark?”

“No. I am not.
”

“Why not?”

“Don’t you think it’s a little early?”

“No.”

“Well, I do.”

“Suit yourself. You’d have a better time if you did.”

“Bye, Joe.”

“Be good.”

“I’m always good.”

“I know.”

Joe was gone. She’d talk to him again on Christmas Day. She missed Joe. Hong Kong was too far away.
 

Mark
had spent the morning doing rounds of all the remaining fitness centers on his list. The result was the same as it had been every other day. No one would touch him. The community center wasn’t even interested in hiring him as a lifeguard. Mark couldn’t believe the influence Kristen wielded. He wouldn’t have imagined that just one woman scorned could make such an impact on his future.

He was Santa for the afternoon
shift. Horace called in with a cold, so Mark pulled a double shift and spent 10 hours in the Santa suit. He came home exhausted. He got his beard off and took Festus for a walk around the block. Then he opened a can of baked beans for himself and a can of beef ’n gravy for Festus. He hadn’t eaten since before he suited up to be Santa. He avoided eating while wearing the beard. It was hell getting crumbs out.

Mark’s
phone dinged. He had a new message from his friend Stan. Stan owned a chain of fitness centers in Portland. The text simply said:

THIS COULD BE YOURS. INTERESTED?
CALL ME
.
 

There was as photo attached. It showed an empty storefront in a strip-mall. Definitely worse for the wear, but it had possibility.

Mark dialed Stan’s number.

“
So, what do you think?” Stan’s voiced boomed over the line.

“
About what?”

“Your own gym
, man! I know, the building’s a little run down—“

Mark could care less about the building being a little run down, but he tried to play it cool.

“You opening another location?”

“Yep. And I heard you were at loose ends and I thought—“

“I might be interested. Tell me more.”

“Well,
I could either offer you a very generous compensation package to start up and manage the place for me, or I could offer you a share of the business instead.”

“How big of a share?”

“Big enough to make it worth your while.”

Mark believed him. Stan was a no
-bull kind of guy. This was a terrific once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He should be jumping up and down, but he wasn’t. Why wasn’t he? There was nothing for him here. No job. No hope of a job. No stability. Only a crazy woman stalking him. Why wasn’t he saying, “When can I start”?

“I am interested,”
Mark said.

“
Dude! I expected you to be more stoked about this.”

“I know. I know. I should be. I
am grateful for the opportunity, it’s just that—“

Stan started laughing on the other end.