The Holiday Gamble Read online

  “Can you tell him maybe? We can look for a dress at some consignment shops around town, and when we find one, we can get it fitted to you. Call the kid and tell him you spoke too soon.”

  He stepped back and saw the sadness in her eyes, so he plowed ahead. “Let me see what I can do, Hannah. I’ll work it out for you, I promise,” Cris told her, fighting the lump in his throat at the prospect his sister was doing without another thing every teen girl should have, because he wasn’t able to provide for her as he wished he could.

  Hannah had never asked Cris for anything, and she never complained about the life he was providing for her. Those facts alone made him even more determined to find her the dress of her dreams.

  Cris made a promise to his mother and Hannah’s father that he wouldn’t let his little sister go into foster care, because he knew in his heart what his mother would have expected from him. He’d do everything he could to keep Hannah with him and ensure she had a happy life. She deserved it as much or more than anyone Cris knew, and it was his responsibility to see to it.

  Hannah pulled back from him, her eyes lighting up. “If you can help me find a dress, I don’t want anything for Christmas. And I don’t want anything for my birthday next year, either. I’ll never ask for another thing if I can find a dress for the formal,” Hannah told him. The sincerity in her eyes tugged at his heart.

  “Let’s not go overboard, Hannah Banana,” he teased, calling her by the nickname he’d given her when she just a tiny girl learning to walk. Her bright smile of recognition and adoration for him had Cris captivated from the day his mother brought her home from the hospital.

  His sister reached up to hold her nose after she kissed his cheek. “Okay, okay. Go get cleaned up while I make you something to take for dinner. You smell like a monkey, and not just the greasy kind. I washed your gloves,” his sister told him, smiling as she stepped around him into the kitchen.

  Cris had bought a pair of white gloves of his own to hide the gunk he couldn’t easily remove from his fingers and under his nails in the short time he allowed himself to shower and clean up on weeknights. It was very sweet of her to take the time to wash them for him every night to make sure they stayed white.

  On the weekends, Cris worked harder to ensure his hands weren’t a wreck, but during the week, he was usually on the fly from the shop and couldn’t take the extra time. Hannah did special things like that for him all the time, and he loved her for it. She also never complained about being left alone on the nights when Cris had to work at the store, which piled more guilt on him. He’d get her that dress come hell or high water.

  “HO! HO! HO!” Cris yelled from where he was hiding behind the “Santa’s Wonderland” set to hype the crowd of parents and children waiting for him to take his seat in the huge gold and red throne. Cris had his gloved fingers crossed that the night would go smoother than the two previous nights had gone.

  The photographer elf, Frosty, had been fired recently because he’d shown up to work with liquor on his breath. After Kirby fired him on the spot, the store manager ended up helping with the pictures that night and the next, but then he’d sent Kirby a text that morning to assure him there would be a new photographer that night. Cris was relieved, because while Kirby was indeed a nice guy, he wasn’t a wizard behind the lens.

  It was the third of December, and after the weekend’s chaos, Cris hoped the night would be tamer because the crowd would be smaller. Peeking from behind the curtain to see the line of kids who appeared to be foaming at the mouth, led Cris to believe it would be every bit as bad as Saturday and Sunday, which wasn’t to his liking.

  Cris saw his two female elves, Cookie and Cocoa, were already taking photo package orders from the parents as they moved down the line, preparing the slips to be presented to the photographer… who was late. Cris hoped like hell it wasn’t going to be a repeat of Sunday evening.

  Cris stuck a hand from behind the stage to wave to the crowd, hearing the gasps and cheers of the little ones. Just then, he noticed Kirby making his way out of the office toward the workshop stage, glancing at his watch nervously.

  The velvet rope was still in place, so Cris made movements as though he was adjusting his padding. He was hoping to buy time for the new person to show, because he didn’t want to cost anyone else their job.

  Cris felt terrible about being the one to rat out Greg Bailey, the former photographer, but the man was sloppy drunk, and they were surrounded by impressionable children. The other elves had complained to Cris about Greg being drunk on the job the previous evening, citing nasty comments the man made about the kids and parents, so Cris finally bit the bullet.

  Santa went to Kirby to report Bailey, sure it was the right thing to do. The threats Greg had leveled as the jerk was escorted from the store on Saturday afternoon didn’t worry, Cris. He’d learned to take care of himself a long time ago.

  Finally, Cris caught sight of a guy dressed in an elf costume running from the locker room area, the camera swaying recklessly about his neck as he rushed over to the Christmas-themed backdrop. “Sorry, man, but I had trouble with the fucking tights,” the guy swore as he came up to the back stairs of the stage, adjusting himself in the green velvet shorts that went over candy-cane striped tights.

  “SHH! Don’t swear in front of the kids,” Cris whispered as he herded the man to the side, behind a copse of fake, decorated Christmas trees to help him adjust the hosiery. During the time it took the man to put them on, he’d somehow twisted the feet, settling the heel in the front and the toes in the back.

  Once they were adjusted, Cris slipped the weird, elf slippers into place and stood to smile at the guy under the green elf hat. “I’m Cris,” he introduced himself as he held out a gloved hand.

  The guy laughed. “You’re shitting… kidding me?” Cris noticed the man had the most gorgeous green eyes he’d ever seen, but there was no time to dwell. They needed to get started.

  “Not at all. You’re?” Cris requested.

  “Sugarplum,” the man responded with a big grin that had Cris laughing.

  “Okay, Sugarplum, let’s get to work,” Cris suggested, and headed to the front of the stage, offering his best Santa laugh to get everyone ready for the rest of the night.

  Sugarplum took his spot behind the tripod, facing Santa, and nodded he was ready as Cocoa led the first child, a boy of probably five, to the stage. Once Cocoa had the boy comfortably settled on Santa’s lap, she turned to hand Sugarplum the slip regarding the package the family had chosen for the Christmas photo. The photographer quickly took a shot of the information on the sheet, so the pictures would be directed to the right family when the memory card was picked up the next afternoon for developing. The images were sent by overnight mail to the families directly from processing at headquarters.

  It was going to be a long four hours, but Cris’ newfound mission to help his sister find a dress for the dance meant he would put everything he had into his Santa personae. He had a lot riding on the job, and some parents were kind enough to give him a monetary gratuity if their kids enjoyed the experience, which definitely came in handy.

  Kirby had never explicitly forbidden they accept tips, and as he’d done over the past few years that he’d been Santa, Cris shared the money with the elves, splitting it evenly with everyone that worked the day/evening the tip was given. That extra money would go a long way toward a dress for his sister, he was sure.

  At seven-thirty, Cocoa, whose real name was Mandy, put up the sign that Santa was taking a thirty-minute break to feed the reindeer. The four of them left the stage and headed to the breakroom to catch their breath.

  Cris took off his hat, wig, and beard, happy for the cold air circulating through the room after someone turned on the ceiling fan when they entered. “I’m Mandy… Cocoa and this is Nicole… Cookie,” Mandy introduced the two of them to the new photographer. Sugarplum stood from his chair before taking each woman’s hand and kissing their knuckles.

  Cr
is could see the guy oozed charm, to be sure. “I’m Sugarplum… David. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m sorry I was late, but these damn… dang tights weren’t the easiest things to figure out,” the guy, David, admitted.

  The three of them sat at the table while Cris went to the fridge and pulled out an insulated bag with a Velcro closure, taking the fourth chair to join them. “Sorry, but I didn’t have time to eat at home. I do, however, have enough to share,” Cris offered, pulling out two peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches from the bag, along with a bag of chips and four chocolate chip cookies.

  Cris spread it out on the table for anyone to partake, smiling at his sister’s generosity. It reminded him of something he wanted to ask Mandy and Nicole.

  “Say, do either of you know where I could find some used party dresses?” he asked as he dug into half of a sandwich, seeing his sister had swirled the peanut butter and jelly together just as he liked.

  David laughed. “You a drag queen in your spare time, Kringle?”

  Cris chuckled in return. “I don’t have the legs for it, but I hear they make good money. No, my little sister has a thing at school coming up, and she needs a fancy dress. I just don’t have the cash to buy something new, but if I could find a nice one on the cheap, I could take her to the lady at the dry cleaners to get it fitted for her. It’s her first dance, and I don’t want to disappoint her,” he explained, having worked with Nicole and Mandy the previous year, so he knew they were familiar with his story.

  “How old is this sister?” David asked, as he reached for the other half of the sandwich, while Nicole opened the bag with the cookies and took one to have with her coffee.

  “She just turned sixteen in October. She goes to this private school downtown, and the dance is a big deal to her,” Cris explained.

  David chuckled again, which was starting to annoy Cris. “If she’s like the snobby bitches I knew in private school, she’s not going to like a second-hand dress. That doesn’t… why don’t your parents just buy her a dress at Saks? Why is this your problem?”

  Nicole stood and looked at the man, daggers in her eyes. “That’s none of your fucking business, asshole. You’re new to the group. Talk less and listen more,” she snapped, before she stomped off toward the unisex bathroom.

  “You’re a dick,” Mandy snapped as she headed toward the loading dock. Cris knew she was going to have a hit from her vape pipe, because she was trying to quit smoking. He determined her foul mood was probably due to her nicotine craving, so after they were gone, he turned to David, offering him the other sandwich in the bag.

  “I’m sorry about those two. We’ve worked together for a few years, and they know the deal. My sister attends Mercer Academy in Center City. She’s whip-smart and on a partial scholarship. I work this job to pay for her tuition and the expenses that go with it. This dress thing is a different deal for me.”

  “Our parents were murdered in a home invasion three years ago. I became Hannah’s guardian after I fought for custody. It seems that, at the time, the State of Pennsylvania didn’t think a twenty-five-year-old mechanic was a perfect provider for a thirteen-year-old girl. I got a good lawyer and fought her other grandparents. Hell, I’m still… shit, I’m sorry. I babble. Forgive me,” Cris told David, who was a stranger, really. It was definitely a character flaw Cris was trying to overcome… being an open book for nearly anyone who met him.

  David, who had shed the green elf hat, smirked as he pushed his blond hair off his forehead while chomping on the other peanut butter sandwich. “Shh! Don’t cuss in front of the kids,” he teased, which made Cris grin.

  The man had the most vivid green eyes Cris had ever seen in person. They reminded Cris of a show he’d seen on NATGEO about the Northern Lights… the green lights that were seen near the North Pole. They were charged particles emitted from the sun during a solar flare that penetrated the earth's magnetic shield and collided with atoms and molecules in the earth’s atmosphere, and they were mesmerizing, not that Cris had ever seen them anywhere except on television. They matched David’s eyes perfectly.

  “So, how’d you get into photography?” Cris asked, checking the clock over the fridge to see they had about fifteen minutes before they had to report back to the Wonderland stage.

  David smiled at him, and it lit up Cris’ insides. The man was gorgeous, and he had the most adorable smile. It was a little crooked, which was sexy as hell. It so affected Cris, he wasn’t sure how to handle the attraction.

  It struck Cris at that moment, he hadn’t even looked at another man for at least a year, but he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for him to be attracted to that particular man. Cris already had a complicated life, and the idea of trying to maneuver the minefield that would come with getting involved with a coworker was more than Cris was prepared to consider, especially since they’d only work together for a little over a month.

  At the time, Cris couldn’t imagine tackling anything more than keeping a roof over his and Hannah’s heads, and the possible purchase of a lovely dress for his sister’s dance. He sincerely wished the blond man didn’t have a power over him that had his dick chubbing up in his Santa pants so embarrassingly.

  David kept his eyes on Cris, who saw the blond seem to choose his words carefully. “It’s a hobby I picked up from my grandmother, Ginny. She likes art, and she used to buy me those disposable cameras for stocking stuffers at Christmas when I was little. I’d take pictures of the weirdest shit… things, but Grandma always got them developed and showed them to me. When I got older, she bought me a Nikon camera, and I learned how to take proper photos. I’m not Ansel Adams or anything, but I can take a decent picture,” David offered.

  Cris remembered the reference. “Oh, he’s the guy who does all of the nature pictures, right? I took Hannah to see an exhibit at the art museum on Fairmont a few years ago. Hannah likes stuff like that, too,” Cris explained as Nicole and Mandy returned to the breakroom.

  “Time to get back to work. Sorry if I was a bitch, David, but we’re a little protective of Santa,” Cris overheard Mandy explaining to David, before Cris left the breakroom to use the facilities and get back into character.

  He wiped his face with a few paper towels to remove the streaks of sweat and settled the wig on his head before he donned the beard. He placed the Santa hat over the wig, careful to be sure the bell at the end was next to his left ear. He wanted to be able to hear what the kids whispered into his right ear, just like Santa’s pictures always showed.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” Cris offered to the reflection in the mirror, before he did it again, adjusting the octave of his voice a bit lower, so it sounded right. He settled the padding at his belly and checked his belt to be sure everything was closed up and buckled as it should be to represent the beloved icon.

  Cris remembered being a kid, and having his mother, Janis, take him to see Santa at the massive mall in King-of-Prussia. It was the most fantastic experience Cris remembered ever having, before his mother met Paul, Hannah’s father.

  Back then, it was just Cris and Janis, but when Paul came into their lives, everything changed. It was like a dream, because Cris and his mother no longer had to worry about groceries, or whether the lights would stay on that month.

  Paul wasn’t rich by any stretch of the imagination, but the man took good care of Janis and Cris, and he loved Janis with all of his heart—that Cris knew for certain. Paul worked hard to support his new family, and when Cris was old enough to understand things, he appreciated Paul a lot more.

  When they found out Hannah was on the way, the family was thrilled. For thirteen years, even after Cris moved out and went to work at the garage, things were still beautiful. One senseless act had blown the family apart, and devastated his little sister in the process, but Cristian did his best not to dwell on it for Hannah’s sake.

  He still had fond memories of those days, and he wanted to help Hannah keep her own happy memories of growing up, while making new ones in the future,
whatever the cost to him. She deserved the world on a platter, and Cris was determined to give it to her. Hannah ought to have big dreams of her own.

  Cris saw Kirby walk out of the office at nine o’clock and cross the store to relieve Santa and his elves of their duties, because there was no longer a line of fans waiting for the Bearded One. There had been no visitors since eight forty-five, but they didn’t close Santa’s Wonderland until the queue was empty for fifteen minutes.

  As Christmas approached, Wonderland would stay open later each week, and there would be days right before Christmas Eve when they’d have to close the line while there were still parents and children waiting for their visit with Santa. That was the part Cris hated the most… some sweet little kids missing out on their chance to give Santa a letter, or tell him what they wanted for Christmas.

  He knew most of those parents were working more than one job, which was why they were in that line so late, but it was store policy. Since Cris was so grateful to have the job, he didn’t question the rules. He left the area when Kirby instructed, but he always felt bad about it.

  After turning the suit inside out so it could dry and not sour overnight, Cris came out of the restroom in his jeans and flannel shirt, surprised to see David sitting at the table in the kitchen eating one of the chocolate chip cookies Cris had left in the bag on the table.

  “These are amazing,” David commented as he stood from the table. He was wearing a grey wool coat and a pair of red sweatpants with a black t-shirt under the jacket. His blond hair was curled up from being suffocated under the felt elf hat, but Cris still believed the man to be more attractive than anyone he’d ever met.

  “My sister, uh, she bakes them about once a week during the holidays. They’re my favorites, but she also makes a few other kinds for me to share with the guys at the shop and the people I work with here. On Sunday evening, Hannah helps me cook a few meals to tide us over for the week, and she packs my dinner when I work here during the holidays. She packs extra sandwiches and cookies, so I have some to share with all of you,” Cris explained.