The Mistletoe Affair

mind. He leaned closer. “What kind of baby?'

“I don't think Mom would be choosy, so a boy or a girl baby would be fine. Just born, you know. Not old, like me.'

Jared swallowed hard, his heart moving into his throat. Okay, big mouth, you got yourself into this mess, you should never have said Santa helps grownups, too. How do you get yourself out of it, without letting Matt down and really disillusioning him about this whole Santa thing? “A real baby? Why would you think your mom wants a real baby? Did she tell you she wanted one?'

Matt shook his head again. “I'm smart. I figured out what Mom needs by myself. She cries sometimes, and I heard Grandma say last night that I'd be growing up and leaving so Mom wouldn't have anyone. Mom told Grandma that she dreams of babies. I want her to have a baby so she won't cry, or be alone.'

Jared glanced at Katherine. So, her mother was pressuring her to marry again. All the more reason to stay away from Katherine. He was not in the market for a wife. Well, he knew that telling Matt it would be a long time before he grew up and left wouldn't solve this dilemma completely. He cleared his throat in as Santa-like way as possible. “But, Matt, in order for your mom to get a baby, she'd need to be married. How about your father?'

Matt frowned. “Can't we have a new dad? He's the one that made her cry, and I don't think he likes either of us very much.'

Jared felt the heat in his face as his jaw muscle worked. He could understand Matt's dad not liking Katherine. Hell, they were divorced, and one of the ‘Ten Commandments of Divorce’ seemed to say: “Don't like your ex.” Or at least from all the bad-mouthing his client's did, that seemed true to him.

He knew kids of divorce often thought the divorce was due to them, and that the more-absent parent didn't like them. But why would Matt think his father didn't like him? “Why would you say your dad doesn't like you, Matt?'

“He calls and cancels our visits. Besides, I can tell. I feel it.” Matt pointed to his own heart.

Jared tightened his arm around Matt's shoulder. So, that's how it is. Damn. Okay, now you know. What are you going to do about it, Santa? He moved Matt to his other knee. Think, Jared. Think. “Matt, it takes nine months to have a baby.'

“Are you sure? Jimmy's mom had one, and she went to the hospital and got it in a day.'

Jared tried not to laugh, but smiled at him instead. “Jimmy's mom carried the baby inside her for nine months before they went to the hospital to have the baby. It really takes nine months. Santa wouldn't lie to you about something like that.” Jared watched as Matt stared over his padded Santa shoulder for a moment, scrunching his forehead-deep in thought. Oh, hell. You said the baby was inside. Please don't let Matt ask if Jimmy's mom swallowed the baby, or how it got inside to begin with. Jared felt sweat roll down his back, waiting for Matt's response.

“It does?'

Jared nodded, praying it would end there.

“How long does it take to start one?'

Wonderful. Jared stared through the wisps of cobwebby eyebrows glumly. It would have been better if the boy had stuck with “inside.” Now he had moved on to “start one.' Jared chuckled. “Not long, but it takes two grownups to start a baby, Matt, a man and a woman, and both grownups need to be willing to have a baby.” At least that's how it's supposed to work, he thought, and felt the muscles tighten along his spine. He shifted again, trying to avoid the uneasy and unexpected tension. Which was the reason he'd never have a child, he supposed. Not even one as special as Matt. He never could imagine a woman he could make that kind of commitment with.

Matt grabbed his beard again and almost yanked it off. Jared held a death grip on the part still attached to his ears and face. “You're Santa. You gotta do something to talk her into it for her own good.'

Jared groaned. You're digging your grave a little deeper. A vivid picture of Katherine shooting him when he tried to explain why they needed to sleep together flashed before his eyes. When Jared said, “We need to start a baby,” a bullet from her pistol lodged in his groin. Jared, you are a dead man if you breathe one word of this to Katherine.

He took a deep breath, held it, exhaled and slowly dislodged Matt's tight fingers from his Santa beard again. He glanced at Katherine and shook his head. Man-oh-man, he wanted to help Matt. But from the way Katherine acted around him, her husband must have really done a number on her. He could think of only one solution-talk Matt into something less drastic than Katherine starting a baby.

“Matt, do you know what I think your mother really needs?'

“What?'

The trusting expression on Matt's face made Jared realize the awesome responsibility he had to get this right. “I think she cries because she's lonesome for someone her own age to have fun with-what grownups call dates. All she needs to do is date. If it works out, they'll get married, you'll have a new dad, and later on your mom can have those babies she wants.'

Matt scratched his head. “You really think it'll work?'

Jared nodded. If Matt saw his mom dating a couple of times, and happy, even though he had no idea how he could pull that off with that jittery woman, Matt would think Santa had kept his promise. It was a win-win situation. Would it work? It had better. Because he sure as hell wouldn't get Katherine pregnant so Matt would still believe in Santa.

He looked at the domed-skylight above the mall atrium feeling trapped by his own big mouth. If I ever get so dumb as to play Santa again, shoot me dead, or zap me with a bolt of merciful lightning.

Reaching into the bag by his chair, he removed the mistletoe he'd bought to hang from the mirror in his truck. He needed all the help he could get with Katherine. “Shhh. This is our little secret, Matt. Give this mistletoe to your grandma and tell her you got it from Santa. She'll know what to do with it.'

Matt hugged Jared, grabbed the mistletoe and stuffed it into his pocket. “It's a love potion,” Matt whispered. “I learned about love potions from TV.” He grinned, his eyes flickering once again with excitement. “I knew you wouldn't let me down, Santa.'

* * * *

Katherine spotted Mrs. Taylor, the ‘birthday-lady', as they entered the party. “Are you sure pants are appropriate for a dance at a church?” Katherine asked, stowing her and Matt's coats on a back table. She looked down at the pale, blue-beaded, mohair cardigan that hugged the knees of her satin drawstring pants. “I should have worn a dress.” Tightening the backs of her pearl earrings, she shifted her weight from one heel to the other.

Her mother smiled. “Stop fidgeting, dear. It's Saturday night, not Sunday morning. Pants are fine and you look lovely in them. Besides this birthday party is very casual.” She glanced at Katherine's outfit, moved closer, and whispered, “Your beads sparkle like starlight, so does your headband. You'll turn some heads tonight whether you're ready for a social life or not.'

Katherine blushed and stared down at the winking beads that reflected the candlelight flickering from the centerpieces. She inhaled the heady scent of cranberry that filled the room. Great, I look like I'm wearing a flashing neon sign that says, “I'm available.' Frowning, she straightened the clasp on the pearls her mother wore. One good thing-it couldn't be classified as a real date if Jared did show up at the dance and feign any interest in her.

“Did you see the size of Matt's eyes when you set your potato salad on the buffet table and he spotted that multi-tiered chocolate cake?” Her mother chuckled and waved to Mrs. Taylor, whose trusty camera sat poised in front of her at the head table.

The DJ announced nostalgic music had been requested for the program, rather than traditional Christmas music. Katherine smiled, recognizing her mother and father's favorite song. The heart rendering refrains of “Love Me Tender” flowed from the turntable of the stereo and voices of people dancing on the hardwood floor and milling around the room joined in to sing the beautiful words. She glanced at her mother, knowing the waterworks would start any minute. Reaching into her beaded bag, she retrieved a tissue, and pressed it into her mother's palm.