Unwrap these Presents

by Astrid Ohletz

  “Yeah. Sorry.” She handed a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon over to Jenny. She had let the salesman at her local wine store talk her into buying the bottle earlier that day. She had asked for a good first impression, and he had practically guaranteed her one with this particular Cab. It had certainly put an impression on her wallet. “But if something else works better for tonight, just put it up for later.”

  Jenny read the label and chuckled. “No. This is perfect. Look.” She grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter and handed it to Marisol. It was the exact same wine down to the year. “It’s a sign.”

  “Well, only if you want to date the salesman at the Wine Cellar. It was his choice.”

  Jenny stepped up to her and raised a hand to her cheek, cupping it for the briefest of moments. Her palm was hot, and Marisol’s cheek burned where the touch had been. “For the record, I only want to date you. I knew it the moment I saw you at the farmers’ market.” Still standing close to Marisol, she pinned her with a frank look that demanded an answer.

  The heat from her cheek wound its way down her throat and settled in her chest, sending tendrils deep into her heart. Jenny’s touch was strong enough to melt the edges of the frost that had lived there since Carrie’s confession. Suddenly, she wanted to play this game to see where it would go. She even remembered being good at it once.

  “You might want to reconsider. The salesman does have great taste in wine.”

  “Yes, but can he make a tamale?”

  “Probably not as good as me.”

  “I bet he doesn’t do a lot of things as well as you do.”

  Jenny searched Marisol’s face with her eyes and took a small step closer. Jenny was so close now that she could feel warmth coming off her body in waves. Marisol closed her eyes and imagined that warmth enveloping her. It felt very good to be back in the heat after so long.

  “My tamales are good. Really good. But sometimes lately, I think the cornmeal may be a little bland. I think I may be ready to kick it up a notch.”

  “You mean add more spice?”

  Marisol nodded. She could feel Jenny’s breath coming out in ragged bursts.

  “A dash or two right now?”

  “Yes.” She met Jenny’s gaze, still so open and full of invitation. This time she didn’t shy away. This time she willed Jenny to take that final step to her. They were inches apart now, their mouths close but not touching. For being so quick and efficient at everything else, Jenny painfully drew this part out. It was all Marisol could do not to slam her lips into Jenny’s. To stand there so close, letting the heat and promise of the coming kiss surround her was maddening. Butterflies that hadn’t flown in ages opened their wings and started to flutter deep in Marisol in response to the sunshine that Jenny brought. When Jenny finally did drop her lips onto Marisol’s, the kiss was everything she desired—warm, soft, tender. She tasted of all the wonderful things bubbling away on the stove and the potential of much more exotic meals down the road.

  Goose bumps shimmered across her arms as Jenny ran both hands up them and finally tangled her fingers in Marisol’s long hair. She pulled Marisol even closer. The kiss sizzled and deepened. Jenny’s tongue dipped into Marisol’s mouth and stroked hers. Marisol shuddered with desire. She stroked back and wrapped her arms around Jenny’s lithe frame. The heat of the kiss wound its way to the center of Marisol’s heart, and with a glorious burst, the last of the frost and hurt melted away completely.

  All it took was one scorching kiss. Just like that, Marisol found her inner jalapeno and got her chile back—all in time for Christmas.

  Elfin Magic

  R.G. Emanuelle

  The tranquility in the Christmastown maze was broken only by the sound of moving parts and mechanisms at work. I strolled through it, taking the opportunity to center myself in those last moments before Christmastown opened to the public and things went nuts. There was something magical about the decorated trees, twinkling lights, and mechanical figures beckoning to shoppers. The little worlds that Stanton’s Department Store created with stuffed animals, trains, toys, and lights made people feel young and hopeful. Like anything at all was possible.

  At the end of the maze, I bypassed the rooms where multiple Santa Clauses would, within minutes, have hundreds of children (and some adults) sitting on their laps, and headed toward where I was working for the holiday season: Santa’s Shoppe. Once the kids had their photos taken with Santa, the adults came to me to have them printed and pay for them.

  I entered the register area, clocked in on the computer, and waited for the madness to begin. I quelled my roiling stomach with some tea and contemplated how I’d ended up here, upselling photo packages in an elf costume, playing to parents’ sentiments to squeeze as much money out of them as possible. The first customers came, and the nonstop parade began.

  Four hours later, I was aching to go on my break. My feet throbbed and I was about to pass out from hunger. I was keying in my employee identification number to clock out on my register when I looked at the next customer in line. A woman holding a little girl’s hand. The woman had long, dark hair pulled back from her forehead with a headband, exposing delicate features with softly rounded cheeks and a small perky nose. Her black coat was unbuttoned and I glimpsed a tight, purple sweater.

  I cancelled the clock-out sequence. “Next customer in line,” I said. “Right here.” I made eye contact with the woman and waved her over. She smiled as she approached my register and handed me her ticket.

  “Hi, Merry Christmas,” I said with all the enthusiasm I could muster, which was much, considering how unnerved I’d suddenly become by the woman’s dark brown eyes boring into mine.

  “Hey, I thought you were going on break,” my co-worker said.

  “Yeah. After this customer.” I turned back to the woman and smiled as I scanned her ticket. Photos of her child on Santa’s lap came up on the computer screen. She pointed at the customer screen. “Look, sweetie,” she said to the little girl.

  While the woman looked at the screen and spoke to the child, I watched her and when she smiled, a warmth filled my chest.

  I became aware of my elf costume. Painfully aware. My green, one-size-fits-all smock with the ugliest flower pattern ever splashed across the chest and shoulders, my baggy red pants tucked into my fake boot coverings, and best of all, my hat with points and pompoms all around it. To completely humiliate us, they tagged us with special identification bracelets—fuzzy “white snow” stuff with our elf names glued on with sparkles. Mind said “Jingles.” Sexy.

  “Are you magic?” the little girl asked me.

  “Of course I am. I make all kinds of things happen.”

  I thought I saw a gleam in the woman’s eyes. A mischievous, wicked gleam. I put on my best elf face and asked, “What kind of photo package do you want?” There was a little more quaking in my voice than I would have liked.

  “What kind of package?” She raked her eyes over my chest and I almost choked on my saliva. “Oh, I think we’ll go for the Special Santa Package,” she said. “What do you think, Lindsay?” The child nodded her head. “Two of each picture, please. And the CD.”

  “Okay.” I fumbled with my mouse to print out the pictures and set up the CD files to process her order. When the photos came out of the printer, I busied myself putting them in the cheap cardboard frames that customers got for free. I felt her eyes on me but I didn’t dare look up. Not only because I’d probably do something stupid, but I needed to keep moving so I could go on my break and not get punished by my manager, who I liked to call the Elf Overseer.

  The little girl shrieked with laughter. “I can’t wait to show Daddy.”

  Damn! There’s a baby daddy.

  When I had everything in a bag, I looked up to hand it to the woman and my heart almost stopped. She was staring. Boldly, unabashedly staring, with a particular look in her eyes that made me feel naked and for once, I was glad for my elf suit. My face was burning. The elfin world around me stopped for a
year or two, until she reached for her bag.

  “Th-thank you,” I sputtered. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” she said, her soft, penetrating eyes locking on mine.

  She took little Lindsay by the hand and left. When she was out of sight, the world started moving again. The throngs of people rippled into motion, the sound of the choir elves singing “Here Comes Santa Claus” rose up, and the smell of my own sweat told me it was time to take my break.

  * * *

  The days of the Christmas season went by rather fast as hundreds of people wanted color memories of their children while they were still innocent and naive, before they became cynical and mistrustful. I had been doing this for the last couple of seasons but I had lost that wonder, that exuberant child-like expectancy and enchantment that comes from Christmas. My enthusiasm had been diminishing over the years, but this job had just about killed it. And I hated my stupid elf name. It belonged to someone who still felt that magic.

  But there must have been magic in the air two days later, when she came back to the Shoppe.

  Like a drone, I was processing people’s orders with a happy elf expression pasted on my face. “Next in line,” I called out. She stepped up to my register and I recognized her right away. The woman who had warmed my insides.

  “Oh. Uh, hi. Weren’t you here last week?” Yeah, that was smooth.

  “Yes, I was. You remember.” She beamed, as if she’d been given the thumbs-up signal for some secret plan. I locked my knees for fear they’d give in.

  “Yes. I do.” I dropped my gaze low to look for her little girl but didn’t see her. “Where’s your daughter?”

  She frowned before answering. “My what? Oh, the little girl I was with? That was my niece.”

  Her niece! A ripple of glee went from my chest to my groin.

  I thought I saw a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. I don’t know how I tore my gaze away, but I spotted the Elf Overseer eyeing me. I turned back to the woman and pretended I was showing her photos. Pointing to the screen, I smiled and said, “So, what are you doing here?” A furtive glance told me that the Elf Overseer was still watching me.

  “Aren’t you due for a break now?” the woman asked. “You were the other day, right around this time.”

  She’d remembered the time of my break? With my finger frozen on the face of some random child on the screen, I turned to her. “Uh, yeah. Soon.” I pretended to key in some numbers on the keyboard and tried to think of something witty to say. The woman stood there watching me and I tried to control my quickening breath.

  Another elf appeared behind me. “Go on break,” she said. My stomach did a somersault and I couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or fear to be able talk to the woman for real. I clocked out and as I approached the half-door that enclosed the register area, I became aware of my elf costume again and worried that any chance I might have with this woman would be gone as soon as I stepped out and showed myself in all my elf glory.

  She walked over to meet me. A big, pearly grin graced her features. Was she amused? She leaned in and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear over the din, “That is the cutest outfit I’ve ever seen.”

  The warmth I’d felt that other day returned and covered me from head to toe.

  “Listen, it’s getting really hot in here,” she said. “Do you want to go somewhere quiet? I’d love to talk.”

  “Uh, yeah.” My brain raced as I tried to think of where we could go and have privacy. Then it came to me. Despite my better judgment, I said, “I know where.”

  “I’m Leisha, by the way.”

  Shit, I didn’t even think to ask her name. A gorgeous woman with an exotic name. I wondered what the hell she wanted with me.

  When my brain kicked back into gear, I responded, “I’m Maddy,”

  “Nice to meet you, Maddy.” She held out her hand and I took it. She squeezed ever so slightly and accompanied the handshake with a searing look that would have taken down Mother Teresa.

  My tongue was dry, so I gestured for her to follow me.

  Through a maze of makeshift corridors constructed from particleboard and Sheetrock, I led her to a display of stuffed bears. There had been some mechanical difficulties with it, so it was blocked off from the rest of Christmastown. All that stood between the crowds and the construction site was a black curtain.

  “What’s this?” Leisha asked.

  “You’ll see. We can have some privacy here.”

  The bears were mounted on a four-foot hut-shaped structure to create a cave, and the center was filled with additional bears. The display was supposed to be like a scenic Easter egg—you looked into the cave and there would be some scene enacted. A stupid idea from the get-go.

  One by one, I began removing bears from the center of the pile and tossing them aside. When I had dug out enough of the stuffed critters, I took Leisha by the hand and pulled her in. It was a tight squeeze but cozy. We lay down on a mattress of police officer bears.

  “Should we be in here?” she asked with wicked glee.

  “No,” I said.

  From somewhere inside the cave, I heard a little jingle. All that fur created great acoustics but it also dulled sound, and I couldn’t tell where the sound had come from.

  “I have a confession,” she said, lying down across the bears. “I was here before I came with my niece and I saw you. I told my sister I’d take Lindsay to see Santa, just so I could see you again.”

  “You did?” I could be suave when I wanted to, but Leisha was sweeping me off my feet and I felt tongue-tied like never before.

  “Yes. I was shopping and I saw you on your break. Well, I assumed it was your break. You were sitting outside the entrance with a bottle of water.” She looked away shyly. In the light filtering in from the gaps between the bears, I saw her blush, and it was so cute. “I was hoping to see you again.”

  I was a little lightheaded and my heart pounded. I swallowed as best as I could and cleared my throat. “After seeing me in this outfit? Hardly this season’s style.”

  Leisha had an expression that I could only describe as seductive. “I think you look adorable,” she said. And I knew she meant it.

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” she continued, “but I’d really love to make love to you.”

  Don’t take it the wrong way? How does someone take that the wrong way?

  Despite my occasional lack of finesse, I’d never had a problem getting dates—women seemed to like a five-foot-eight, short-haired runner type, even if she made a freakish-looking elf—but I’d never had someone flat-out tell me something like that.

  Something happened when she looked into my eyes. I don’t know if she cast a spell on me like a Christmas witch or sent some kind of fishing line into my soul, but I wanted to give her everything. It became important to me to please her. As creepy as it may sound, I couldn’t help but picture us as a couple and having a life together.

  But right now, at this moment, this beautiful woman wanted to make love to me and I was more than willing.

  I stretched out on top of her and slid my arms around her waist. Under the canopy of fur and miniature costumes, I could see her face clearly—smooth, sculpted cheeks and delicate lips—and I wanted to get to know every centimeter of her. The skin on her neck was warm and slightly damp as I kissed it, slowly. With her hand on my shoulder, she stopped me with a look of panic.

  “Suppose someone catches us?”

  “They won’t,” I said. What I really wanted to say was, “Who cares?” The thought of someone catching us actually gave me a little thrill. I straddled her leg and began grinding against her thigh as I continued kissing her. Our lips fit perfectly and glided together easily. I practically devoured her.

  Furry bears create a lot of heat, and sweat coated both of our faces. My breath was hot in my lungs and she began to pant. We stopped to catch our breath.

  “Ouch,” Leisha said. “Something just stabbed me.” I reached beneath her
to see what had poked her. A little plastic badge was sticking up in a most awkward position. She laughed. “I’ve never made out in a pile of bears before.”

  “So, there are things you have done in a pile of bears?” I asked, waggling an eyebrow.

  She gasped and I could see by the mischief in her eyes and the slight upturn of her mouth that the thought titillated her. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to bring her to the pinnacle of ecstasy, in a plush world of softness and comfort, any way she wanted it.

  A sound caught my ear. There it was again—a jingling. Leisha didn’t seem to hear it, apparently because she was too busy dispensing with her shoes and pants. I tried to make more room for us by shoving her things against one wall of bears, but I pushed a little too hard because the walls began wobbling. I froze, waiting for the wall to either stop wobbling or collapse altogether, revealing the sins of the flesh as committed by two lesbians to the sounds of the faithful visiting Christmastown.

  Thankfully, the walls stopped wobbling. I exhaled and began unbuttoning her shirt. At the same time she began to pull at my clothes so I sat up to take them off. My clothes were a little more complicated than hers, however. I’d already dispensed with the hat and it sat absurdly in a little pointed heap by the cave entrance. My costume pants, now damp, clung to my jeans like plastic wrap. I sat up, pulled off the fake boot covers, and rolled the pants down until I was able to remove them. By the time both pairs of pants were off, I was so hot that my elbows and knees were sweating. I knew my face was beet red. I pulled the stupid smock over my head and tossed it aside. The bemused look on Leisha’s face would normally have unnerved me but I was a woman on a mission.

  When I finally got her blouse open, I was stunned by the sight of a red satin bra with white feathery trim. A sexy Mrs. Claus. Right between her breasts was a single bell.

  “So, that’s where that jingling was coming from,” I said, completely enchanted. “I thought I was losing my mind.”