Page 7 of The Thief That Stole Christmas (Indulgence)

Zanya

Iwake up to a glass of orange juice next to my bed along with a note that lunch is waiting for me in the kitchen. As my nerves outweigh my hunger at this stage, I opt for a long warm shower instead. My bag is waiting for me on the rocking chair Cameron had used last night, and I blush at the memories.

Way to make it awkward, Zanya.

Before grabbing a fresh set of clothes, I take in the room around me. It’s small, barely big enough for the double bed, chair and dresser. But tucked away in the corner is a small bookshelf stuffed with colorful books. Upon closer inspection, they’re a bunch of fairy tales with very well-worn covers. These books were loved. Are loved, if their presence here is any indication.

The bed is covered in the softest blue blanket that looks like it was hand knitted and the comforter is a blue and white pattern covered in bright daisies. The lace at the windows are framed by curtains that match the bedspread and the overall feel of the room is cozy and sweet.

I’ve made peace with the fact that I’ll probably be here for a while, so I take an extra minute to unpack, finding a spot for each treasured possession. My pacifier and blankie get placed under the pillow, and BOB is hidden underneath my knickers in the drawer.

Finally satisfied that everything is where it’s supposed to be, I down the OJ, grab my change of clothes, and head to the bedroom door in search of the bathroom I was promised.

And walk right into Johannes.

“You’re up.”

“Great observational skills, big guy.”

“I came to see if you’re ready for lunch yet. Cam’s mom sent food down from the big house. After that, I’ve been instructed to take you to meet Andre.”

“Okay, can I clean up first?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a spare towel in there for you.”

“I brought my own, thanks, Johannes,”

I say, waiting for him to move away from the door. When it’s clear he’s not going to, I tilt my head to the side and look at him questioningly.

“Big guy?”

“Yes, Little Mouse?”

“Was there something else or can I have that shower now?”

Realization lights up his face and he stumbles backwards, rubbing the back of his neck. For a giant, he’s pretty adorable.

Once I’m clean and fresh, I head out in search of the kitchen. I pad down the hallway on socked feet and come across another bedroom. This one is much bigger and incredibly masculine. The room is made up of dark blues and grey and the required big-screen television is against the wall opposite the bed. Up next is a small study, the walls lined with bookshelves. A ridiculously old computer is on the large desk. If it wasn’t for the fact that the place was immaculately clean, I’d have said no one has set foot in there since the early two thousands.

“This was my Ouma’s house.”

I’m startled by Johannes’s voice behind me. He’s staring into the room, looking at the old desk, lost in his head.

“I spent every Christmas here as a child. She was the housekeeper for Andre’s parents. When I turned eighteen I stopped coming, believing I was too big and grown-up to visit her. Then she got sick. She didn’t tell me how bad it was ‘til it was too late. When I got here I only had a few weeks left with her. I nursed her to the end and haven’t been back to South Africa since. When she passed, Andre offered me a job.”

The sorrow in his voice is tangible, and I can’t take it so I grab his hand with my own.

“Johannes, you don’t have to tell me…”

“Nee, it’s okay. I miss her every day. But it’s been years, and I’ve learnt how to deal with the guilt and the sadness. When she wasn’t cleaning up after the boss and his family, she was a writer. She worked with a lady in a village outside the city. Together, they wrote children’s books. She created fairy tale worlds at that desk, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get myself to pack things up.”

His words are breaking my heart. This scary-looking man is actually soft, so very soft and vulnerable.

“I take it she’s the one that got you into Christmas?”

The smile transforms his face. His eyes light up and when he looks down at me now, the ghost of grief is gone.

“Ja! She adored it. We’d spend days in the kitchen with the cook back then, baking cookies. Nights were spent in front of the fireplace stringing popcorn to decorate the tree. And until I stopped believing, she’d leave footprints in the powder on the floor so I’d think Santa had stopped by.”

I could so relate. Until I’d been adopted, I’d never known a decent Christmas, but after my parents took me in, they went out of their way to make it special for me. It makes me happy to know Johannes had that, too.

“Can I ask you something a tad personal?”

“Ja. But in the kitchen, so you can eat.”

His gruff response is more like what I’d expect coming from someone that looks like him, but I now have a better idea of the man hiding underneath that hard exterior.

I follow him down the hallway, back to the lounge and through the entryway to another archway I missed yesterday. The kitchen is small but serviceable for a cottage this size.

“I have some pie and mash with liquor.”

When I pull a face at him he laughs and lifts up the domes from the plates waiting on the table. There’s the plate of lunch, as promised, but next to it is the most adorable croissant I’ve ever seen. It’s been folded into a dragon shape with big chocolate button eyes. I immediately sit down and grab for it, but before my fingers can reach the delicious and beautiful-looking pastry, Johannes puts the dome back on top of it. I quickly snatch back my fingers and scowl at him.

“Nope, Little Mouse. Lunch first, then dessert. We had a deal. Two proper meals a day. You’ve skipped breakfast already so you have to do lunch and tea tonight.”

The smug look on his face is a tad annoying, but the sparkle in his eyes is attractive and I can’t quite keep hold of my scowl.

“I had breakfast, though. You fed it to me.”

He lifts his eyebrow at me, somehow conveying an entire conversation with that one look. I deflate and grab the cutlery to start on the meal.

“Juice or tea? Or milk?”

he asks, walking to the fridge.

“Milk, please.”

I take my first bite of the pie covered in thick aromatic liquor and moan in pleasure at the taste. Johannes clears his throat behind me and I look at him in question.

“Uhm, do you want to have it in a glass?”

“What else would I have it in?”

He rubs the back of his neck and looks at his feet before responding to me.

“I… uhm, saw your stuff. At your flat. So I ran to the shop and got a few things… while you were sleeping, so I uh… got you a sippy cup. I just don’t know if you want to use it now… or?”

Oh. My. Gosh.

I cannot figure out what the heck it is that I’m feeling right now, but I know I want to jump him and give him kisses and cuddles so he will stop looking so darn uncomfortable.

Instead, I take a moment to weigh my feelings. He already knows about my Little side. It’s pointless trying to hide it. And I don’t really feel embarrassed about it, either. But I’m not a hundred percent sure if I’m comfortable going there in front of him yet.

“I appreciate the gesture, big man. And I’ll definitely take you up on the offer. But not today,”

I say with a soft smile, hoping he gets the message. He relaxes a bit and smiles back before turning to the fridge to grab the milk.

Soon a tall glass of milk is placed on the table, but before I can thank him he plops a Nesquik straw in it and I can’t help the giggle that bubbles up. When I smile at him, he’s hiding his face in the fridge again.

I don’t understand how I can fall in serious like with one man so quickly. All I want to do is crawl into his lap and call him Daddy. Something I hope he won’t have a problem with because I’m close to asking if I could have him for Christmas. Instead, I focus on finishing my lunch and admiring the dragon before gobbling it up. Before I know it, he’s grabbing my plates, loading the dishwasher and leading me up to the main house.

Andre, here I come.