“I never knew Santa was so attractive!”
I crept down the stairs, taking precaution to make sure I made no sound—I should be asleep. “Really—Mister Clause—I think I’ve been naughty this year.” Momma was stretched out across the lap of a man with a red suit and hat, a sack of presents by his side. His beard was white, but his eyes were a sparkling yellow: just like Mommy and Daddy’s were.
“I could punish you—” he laughed. “—but according to my list… you’ve been quite a nice girl. You deserve a present.”
Momma giggled and snuggled closer into Santa’s lap, giggling. I wondered briefly where Daddy was—he probably wouldn’t approve too much of Mommy kissing Santa instead of him! After a whole minute—Santa must have a big air supply—they broke apart, and Father Clause started laughing.
“It’s not very nice to laugh at my kissing expertise. Or lack thereof.”
“That’s not what I’m laughing at, sweet heart.” Santa broke into a huge, jolly grin, eyes shifting playfully around the room. “If there are any little girls around, you should go to bed or I might not be able to leave presents!” I ran for my bedroom and jumped into my big girl bed. I could still hear Santa laughing as I tried to sleep.
“Merry Christmas, Nessie!”
“Happy Christmas to you too, Jacob!” I grinned, hugging his leg. I could hear people all over the house. Momma was in the kitchen, talking to Aunt Rosalie and Grandma Esme, while Daddy was having a conversation in the dining room with Uncle Jasper and Uncle Emmett. Grandpa was sitting in an armchair near me, with his nose buried in a big fat book, and Aunt Alice was playing with a bit of tinsel, looking thoughtful.
I bounded over to the television set and turned it on. It was on a music television show—the Christmas specials were on. There was a pretty young girl, singing a poppy version of I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause.
The events of last night came tumbling back into my mind. I had decided before I went to bed that it was vital I tell Daddy. I was always told not to keep secrets, unless it was around people who weren’t like us. Like Grandma Reneé.
I ran into the dining room before I lost my nerve. “Daddy?”
“Yes, honey?” He picked me up and pulled me onto his knees. I stared into his eyes, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, I just blurted it out.
“Daddy—I saw Mommy kissing Santa Clause.”
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