Page 25 of Santa of the Creek

“Thank goodness. Wait, you received a call too?”

“I did.”

“But your ankle…you can’t play Santa if you can’t walk.” Dean sounds outraged on my behalf.

I chuckle. “I’d be Santa Crutch.”

“The kids would be confused.”

“I think they know it’s a made-up thing, but pretend to believe to keep the parents happy.”

“That’s very cynical,” Dean points out.

“Maybe.” I think about it for a moment. “I think I was one of those kids. My parents insisted we play along with the game.”

“Me too if I’m honest. Danny sat me down and told me the truth when I was seven.”

“The mayor told you Santa doesn’t exist?”

“Do I have to remind you he wasn’t the mayor then?” Dean sounded amused.

I wave my arm to Ariel’s annoyance, even though he can’t see me. “They were all born as mayor and sheriff and doctor, etc.”

“So you were born as a bartender?”

“Yes, yes I was.”

“You love your job, don’t you?”

Dean sounds kind of bemused, as if he can’t understand why anyone would want to be a bartender. It’s an attitude I’m used to, so I try not to bristle too much.

“I like dealing with the public.”

“So do I, I guess, although most of mine are old or young. They like their naps.”

“I love my naps,” I admit.

“I won’t hold it against you.” There’s a long silence, but it isn’t uncomfortable. Then he says, “Why did you call me?”

WhydidI call him? I scramble to remember. “I heard you were now Santa.”

“My brother insists I take over.” Now he doesn’t sound amused. Now he sounds like he’s hurting, and my heart aches for him.

“Dean, you don’t have to do this. There are plenty of other guys who can take over.”

“I know.”

“You want to do this? I thought…” I trail off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

He sighs. “You thought?”

“You were so adamant about not liking Christmas.”

“Someone told you about Marty.”

“They did.” I’m not going to lie to him. He deserves better than that, and I’m not the kind of guy who can keep secrets. “Aunt Hebe told me.”

“It was a long time ago. I should be over it.”