A Knock on the Door
1695 Words
Julia
I blinked in surprise, hoping to God that I'd heard wrong and that Lucien hadn't just asked to see Santa. “Honey, what did you just say?” I asked, my tone light as I blinked down at him.
“I want to see Santa,” he reiterated, his gaze on mine steady and unwavering. I gasped, my mouth falling open as I was at a loss for words.
I sighed, fixing the white comforter over him as I mustered a gentle smile. “Honey, listen, I can't just bring Santa to you,” I explained softly, and his little nose scrunched up into a frown, but I ignored it and continued anyways, “You have to eat so you can get better; then we can go see Santa.” I tried to talk him out of the idea as I pushed back some strands of dark, curly hair that had fallen over his forehead.
“I don't believe you!” he yelled, and I gasped, my eyes widening in shock at his abrupt outburst.
“Lucien!” I scolded, my voice a screeching whisper, and he shrugged. “But it's true; you say that every year, but you never take us to see Santa, never,” he grumbled, looking away, and I sighed, knowing what he said was absolutely true.
It was my actions that brought Lucien to that state, and it was only right I do whatever it took to make him feel better again. I shut my eyes tightly as I gritted my teeth. I hoped that I wasn't going to regret making that decision, but then again, it had to be done.
“Fine, I'll have Santa come pay us a visit,” I conceded and immediately squashed the regret I'd initially felt when his eyes lit up like Christmas lights.
“Really, Mommy?” he asked, almost as though he couldn't believe that I'd actually agree to it.
“Yes, baby, he'll come. I'll make sure of it,” I promised, and he grinned, fist bumping the air excitedly like he'd just won a hard-earned victory. I rolled my eyes playfully at his antics.
“But first, won't you need your strength for when Santa comes?” I asked with a raised brow, and I watched his eyes widen in realization before he sighed, slowly nodding his head, and I grinned, feeling proud that I'd at least gotten him to eat something.
“I'll be back with a warm bowl of soup, just the way you like it,” I murmured, leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead before readjusting his comforter over him and walking out of the bedroom with a victorious smile.
As I walked down the stairs on my way to the kitchen, my smile faded at the realization that I had no idea how I'd make Lucien's request happen. I cursed under my breath, deciding to call Parker about it instead, because somehow he always seemed to find a way to solve the problem, but only after Lucien had had something to eat.
Nodding mentally in approval of my plan, I proceeded to the kitchen. A few minutes after Lucien had fallen asleep just after eating, I left him to rest in his bedroom with Olivia by his side.
Shutting the door behind me, I adjusted the tray containing the used bowl to my left and pulled out my phone before dialing Parker's number. He picked up after the second ring.
“Hello, Ms. Wilson,” his voice came through the speaker, and I murmured in response, ”I need you to help me get in contact with a working Santa Claus, and I need him before the end of today.” There was silence for a quarter of a minute after I spoke.
“A-a working Santa?” He stuttered, shock lacing his tone, but I didn't blame him, though I'd be too. I groaned in annoyance,
“Yes, a person that wears a Santa Claus costume,” I enunciated, my tone dripping with mock sarcasm. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair as I made my way down the stairs with my phone propped up between my ear and shoulder.
“Please tell me you know someone,” I sighed, my tone almost pleading, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I do know an agency that offers that kind of service,” he responded hesitantly, and my eyes widened in disbelief as I wasn't actually expecting him to know.
“That's great news, Parker, but how do I
get in contact with them?” I asked instead, ignoring the lingering question on the tip of my tongue about how weird it was that he had that info.
“I'll have their contact information forwarded to you,” he stated, and I nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Parker,” I said, pulling the phone away from my ear to end the call when a sharp ‘wait’ from Parker stopped me.
“Well, there's one more thing, Ms. Wilson,” he spoke hesitantly. “Okay, tell me,” I urged.
“I doubt they'd agree to send anyone,” he said, and I frowned. ”Why wouldn't they?” I asked.
“It's like -10°C outside, so I doubt anyone would want to go out in this weather,” he explained, uncertainty clouding his tone.
“Let me worry about that,” I murmured in
response as I walked into the kitchen and placed the used bowl and tray in the sink before pulling open the refrigerator. I rummaged through for a moment before pulling out a water bottle.
“I'll have it forwarded now,” Parker conceded, and I nodded, twisting the cap of the water bottle open. “Alright,” I replied before ending the call and setting my phone down on the marble countertop and taking a long swig of my water.
It wasn't a surprise Parker didn't wish me Merry Christmas when I called; not after I'd strictly forbade him to ever utter it in my presence when he'd first started working as my assistant three years ago. Now it was an unspoken rule in the company because I wouldn't have it any other way.
A text notification lit up the screen of my phone, snagging my attention away from the past, and I picked it up, quickly dialing the number of the agency Parker had just sent, and waited with bated breath as it rang.
“You have reached The Xmas Xpress, Erika speaking. What can I do for you?” a feminine voice chirped in one breath with practiced professionalism.
“Um, hello, I'd like to book a Santa Claus mascot,” I said, shifting on my feet.
“I'm afraid all our available Santa Claus mascots are fully booked for Christmas, ma'am,” she responded monotonously.
“No, I need a mascot today, preferably before the end of the day,” I rushed out, hoping there'd be one available.
“I'm sorry, ma'am, but due to the weather reports today, that wouldn't be possible, but I'm happy to schedule your bookings for the 28th,” she said and felt my stomach plummet.
“Please, Erika, I'm willing to pay twice the required fee for his time. I'm begging you to help me,” I pleaded, hoping she'd agree to my offer.
“Ma'am, I'm sorry, I can't help you,” she responded. Just as I was about to start pleading like my life depended on it, I started to hear voices in the background, specifically a male voice. It took a little while before I heard Erika clear her throat.
“Russell agreed to the gig,” she said, and I barely held back from squealing so loud.
“Thank you so much!” I thanked her profusely. The next few minutes were spent on getting my address information and other necessary details.
***
It had been hours since Russel, my hired Santa Claus for the evening, had informed me he was on his way here. I paced the length of the living room, waiting anxiously as Lucien was now awake and asking for Santa as I'd promised.
The muted drawl of the weather report on TV had me pausing my pacing. Picking up the remote, I turned up the volume, cursing profusely when the reporter spoke.
'Blizzard Warning: Extreme Conditions,' the news highlight read.
'A severe blizzard is currently impacting the region. Dangerous whiteout conditions are expected, with near-zero visibility and wind gusts exceeding 50 mph. Snowfall rates are heavy, accumulating rapidly and creating treacherous road conditions.’
‘It is strongly advised to stay indoors. Travel is extremely hazardous and should be avoided at all costs. If you must go outside, dress in layers, cover exposed skin, and limit your time outdoors.’
‘Please monitor local weather updates for the latest information.' The reporter finished and quickly grabbed my phone off the couch, my fingers flying through my call log to dial Russell's number.
The sound of the doorbell had me halting mid-action as I snapped my head up. A cracked a smile as I rushed to the door, knowing it was Russell.
Unlocking the door, I gasped as a cold gust of wind slapped against my cheeks, causing me to shut my eyes tightly. Blinking rapidly, I opened my eyes slowly, and my gaze landed on the man standing at my doorstep before me.
He was tall, really tall for a Santa Claus, that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes—oh, his eyes.
They were an icy gray that seemed to bare my soul, uncovering every hidden secret before his eyes. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, but I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the way those eyes made me feel, something so distinct yet I couldn't put my hands on it.
“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his deep baritone causing my heart to thrum so loudly in my chest I could only stand there and gawk like a damn fool.
- Writer
