Page 54 of Santa Daddies

“Then let’s get you un-lonely. You’re not the hookup type, so I’m guessing long-term partner is the goal?”

Benji clears his throat. “Maybe we should let him tell us the exacts before you go off setting him up on dating profiles or trying to match him with someone, baby.”

“I’m only trying to help. Besides, with all the people we know, there’s bound to be an eligible bachelor in the bunch. Maybe he’s on the edge of the circle of friends.” He gasps, raising his hand as if he’s in a classroom. “Oh! Or maybe he’ll be new to the city. It could be a whirlwind thing like Princess Aster and Charlie had. Wouldn’t that be cool?”

“The idea is nice, but I’m not so sure how it would work for me though. Didn’t they have a whole pen pal situation?” I ask the question, though I already know the answer. Most everyone in our ever-growing circle of friends does.

My friend rolls his eyes. “Don’t pretend not to know. You and I have talked about your love for it before. Plus, you told me how you wished you’d been like Donny was and asked for a Daddy for Christmas too.”

I wince at the call out. “You don’t have to remember everything, you know? It’s fine to forget the embarrassing stuff.”

Curtis snorts as he swipes chocolate icing from the bowl on the counter. His husband swats a towel in his direction, which makes the other man squeak and rush over to me as if I can somehow protect him.

Standing at only five foot five—on a good day—and without much muscle mass at all, I’m not going to be able to protect anyone. Especially not against the rugged, handsome baker standing with his arms crossed as he waits for us to fold.

And of course we do. Neither of us stands a chance against him.

When Curtis leaves his hiding spot to kiss Benji, I turn back to the cookie dough mix we’d been preparing as I think over what he said. I do wish I’d asked for a Daddy like Donny did.It never crossed my mind to do so when we wrote our annual letters to the big guy.

Maybe this year should be different. Can I do what my friend did and maybe repeat the result? Or am I too wishful in my thoughts?

The happy couple eventually pulls themselves apart long enough for us to finish baking and organizing the sample cookies for the party later this week. I attempt to help, but my mind is too focused on the idea of mailing a letter to Santa for me to be useful.

I don’t even ask for the extras to take home with me when I pack them up to leave. Benji stares at me in confusion, while Curtis tucks away a few in a bag despite my lack of asking.

“You may not be thinking of it now, but future you will thank me,” he says.

Two hours later, when I’m wrapped in the fluffiest blanket I own and watching animated Christmas movies, I’m appreciative of his forethought. The cookies are just what I need to round out the quiet night.

Jared:

Thanks for sending the cookies. They’re delicious! The party is going to be perfect with your help.

The text in our group chat is answered the way most are. Benji heart reacts. Curtis sends a million emojis and a GIF, as if the former wasn’t a big enough indicator of his emotions.

As if fate times it perfectly so, I run out of cookies as the credits begin to roll. I want to pout about it, yet I know it won’t do any good. There isn’t anyone to hear my fussing anyway.

There would be if you had a Daddy.

My inner voice taunts me, pushing at the open wound of my loneliness like the meanie it is. I shake my head as I climb fromthe couch to throw away my trash. As I’m passing the dining room table, I spot the stationery I’d taken out that morning to get ready to mail our annual letters.

The choice came before I knew of Donny’s changed plans. It came before Benji and Curtis called me out for choosing to stay single. It came before I realized I don’t want another holiday to go by with me alone, sad, and wishing for more.

Dropping my trash into the bin, I sit with the paper and gel pens before me. I don’t stop to think. Don’t hesitate at all. What pours out next is the truest letter I’ve ever written to Santa.

Dear Santa,

It’s me, Jared. I’m sure you already know this because you and I talk often.

Well, not often. Yearly, really. Should I write to you more? It’s a valid question, I think. I bet you feel like people don’t care about you either. It’s uncool that you get nothing until after Thanksgiving, then your inbox is flooded.

Huh.

Anyway, this year I want to steal an idea Donny had. I want to ask for a Daddy.

Now, I know it’s not the normal request. But all the normal stuff is taken care of. My boss is super into gift-giving, and his partner Chance is too. If they don’t get it, then one of my other friends will.

But I want things they can’t buy me too.