“Patience,” he murmured. Nick shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the images that kept dancing through his head like sugar plum fairies in lacy red underpants on the lady’s nice tight little body. Get a grip on yourself, man.
“I’m still unclear on why you are here...” he said again.
“I’m sorry I don’t mean to be rude.” She handed him her business card that read Holly Oak Presbyterian Mission House. “I am Patience Nelson.”
Ho, Ho, Hold Up...
Nick stared at her with a look of confusion on his face. “Wait, hold up, your name is Patience?”
Big Charlie looked at his son. “Patience,” and pointed at the young black woman. Patience Nelson was one of those rare people genuinely liked by everyone. It seemed as if everyone who met her immediately fell in love with her, no doubt in part due to her natural ability to make others feel calm. Whether it was her nature or her calling, she had the ability to put even the most anxious souls at ease. Big Charlie often called her the placebo effect as a joke, because others often became very affectionate with her early on. Big Charlie told her that “folks are just drawn to you, child. Social work is your calling.”
It must have rung true because Nick found himself drawn to her. She was of medium height, medium build, cute, and everything about her was average. Everything – but the way she made him feel. He had never been attracted to an African-American woman before and never gave it any real thought, but this woman, he could easily see himself in front of a fireplace, with some marshmallows, a cup of her... hot... cocoa skin....
“Did you hear me?” she asked him as Nick’s head popped back up from the happy place it had focused on in his pants.
He gave her a sheepish grin. “No, I didn’t, I’m sorry. Again, forgive me, how do you know my dad?”
“Big Charlie has been coming to the orphanage every Christmas Eve for many years. The kids love him,” she said as she reached out and touched Charlie’s hand. “And so do I.”
It was so sharp and so instant, that Nick turned away. A jealous surge flowed through him at the intimate moment he witnessed between this woman and his father. Who is she to my father?
“I am the social worker at the orphanage. I have worked closely with Big Charlie for years. Even in high school, I worked several holiday seasons as his Elf until I went to college. Now, coupled with some charities and nonprofits during the holiday season, Big Charlie’s outreach ministry covers the whole county.”
Patience could not contain the laughter at the look on Nick’s face. It was obvious – he had no idea the breadth and scope of what his father did.
“Lady, my dad is a plumber,” he said. “A retired plumber on a fixed income.” He wasn’t certain why he felt the need to say that last part.
“Yes, I know. His holiday ministry is absolutely wonderful and he brings hope to so many children.” A twinge of melancholy entered her voice. “Hope is very critical to the development of a child. When a child loses hope, they lose everything.”
Nick looked at her with a growing interest. “You say that with so much feeling. I almost believed you.”
Patience let go of Big Charlie’s hand. “I have to believe in hope. It’s what fuels me every day.” She kissed Santa on his cheek again. “You will call me if anything changes with him?”
“Probably not,” he told her flatly.
“Then I will just have to come back and check on my friend,” she said in a low voice as she grabbed her scarf and gloves. Big Charlie had drifted off to sleep. Patience moved closer to his son. She was in his face and in his space, not planning to back down.
“Nickolas, I need you to be Santa’s Big Helper and give me a call and let me know how he is doing. He has a hectic calendar this season and if he is unable to make all of his stops, I will have to call and schedule another Santa. On top of that, I love that man and will do anything to help in his recovery and anything else he needs. This is not about you, but something so much bigger. Can you be Santa’s Big Helper? Will you be my big helper as well?”
He was doing okay until she reached out and placed her hand on his chest. His heartbeat sped up and he felt as if his insides were turning to mush. Like an idiot, he stood there bobbing his head up and down, agreeing with everything she was saying. “Big Helper... yes, me help you.”
She patted him on the chest and headed towards the door. “That’s what I would expect from Santa’s Big Helper.” She said as she stepped to the side and walked through the door. “Call me, okay?”
“Oh – Kay,” he said, sounding like a gigantic special teddy bear that had just learned to talk. His hands were shaking, he was sweaty and his pants felt tight. He looked down at himself, totally embarrassed by his reaction to her. Dear Lord, he hoped she had not noticed.
She had.
Outside of the hospital room door, Patience hurriedly pressed the button for the elevator. Nick was totally turned on by me. As much as Big Charlie had spoken to her about his son, never had she imagined Nick would be so attractive. He had big hands, big feet and by the size of what she had witnessed, he also had a big plumbing tool.
“Patience, Patience....”
He called after her. She kept pressing the down button. Please open. Please open.
“I just wanted to...” he looked at her and saw she was a bit reluctant to hear his words. He looked down to make sure his mind had taken his body back to a restful state. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I overreacted. I appreciate your concern for my father.”
“Anything you need during this time, Nick. Big Charlie means a lot to me,” she said as she watched his eyebrows go up.
“I just may hold you to that, Patience Nelson,” he told her as the elevator finally arrived. But Nick stood staring at her, trying to connect the wayward dots that floated about his head like mystical snowflakes carrying small villages of life. Then it hit him. “Wait... how did you know my name?”
She stepped into the elevator with a coy smile. “Big Charlie is always bragging about his son. It was nice to finally meet you in person.” She stepped into the elevator car, pressed the down button and the doors closed.
And with that, she was gone.
The Ghosts of Christmases Past...
There were two things that Nickolas Pines hated. Clogged toilets filled with human waste and Christmas. Spinach was high on his list as well, and was running a close second with Christmas. Unlike some kids who would be happy to know that their dad was Santa, it was not a source of joy for Nick. The Christmas holiday season was 30 days of misery for him.
As long as he could remember, his father was Santa. He was Santa at the mall. He was Santa at their church. He was Santa at his school. For 30 days out of every year, he lost his father to every child in the greater Harrisonburg area. The family business pretty much shut down as Big Charlie Pines traveled high and low to visit nursing homes, hospitals, churches, businesses and of course the area orphanage and group homes. He didn’t want to feel like a selfish ass, but he wanted his dad to spend Christmas with him.
After the age of 12 he stopped caring. Other children at Christmas were more important to Big Charlie than he was. His mother tried to explain. “Nick,” she would say, “you have your father all year long. These kids, for just one day, get to experience the joy of the holiday season.”
But to Nick, it was bullshit. He only saw it as a means of escapism for his father, who used the time to shirk his responsibilities and get away and play. The summer of his 16th year, his father had taken him under his wing and began an apprenticeship with him as a plumber’s assistant. Playing Santa wasn’t the only thing his dad liked to toy with. His holly jolly demeanor and giving nature ran into the other 11 months of the year and he spread his glad tidings among single mothers who wanted and needed affection. It wasn’t all of them, but a few regular customers who seemed to always have a backed up something or other.
It first came to his notice when he realized that, on the third Thursday of each month, Julie
Harduet would call to have her drain snaked. The same thing on the second Tuesday with Abigail Lednot.
It was shocking to Nick when a large black woman paid his father with a sweet potato pie and real dirty talk that his dad squashed really quickly. “Not in front of my boy, Patti!”
“Well, if you come back later, I will tell it to you in private,” she told Big Charlie as she wiggled her plump hips at him.
It irked Nick to no end. Especially after his mother’s health began to fade. The sicker Kelli Pines became, the freer his father became. As October waned and November rolled in, Big Charlie hired a nurse to care for his sick wife as he colored his beard white and climbed into his Santa suit. It was like Big Charlie became someone different. For 30 days of the year, he attempted to redeem himself.
In Nick’s eyes, it didn’t work. His mother sat in church with Julie Harduet, and even chaired one of the committees with her. Abigail Lednot taught the adult Sunday school and would often offer to pray with his mother until one day Nick stepped in. “If you want to pray for someone, you need to start with yourself, you old harlot!” which elicited a slap to the face from his mother.
In the privacy of their home, Nick wanted to tell her everything he knew, but she silenced him. “There isn’t anything you can tell me about your father that I don’t already know. He has done right by us, especially you... so hold your tongue.”
At the age of 21, as he was about to graduate from college, Nickolas Pines almost died in a freak motorcycle accident. It was at this time that Nick also found out the Big Charlie was not his biological father when blood donors were needed and Big Charlie was unable to contribute. He told Nick he had a rare blood disorder. Nick knew that disorder meant their blood types were incompatible. Later, that same year, around Christmas, his mother passed. Her dying words to him were, “Take care of your father.”
Nick didn’t care about any of it. His tether to Big Charlie was severed and he joined the Army to get out of Harrisonburg. He did an eight-year tour of service, coming home occasionally in the summers to spend some time with Big Charlie. His last visit home, he noticed the pile of mail and backlog of bills. He had not known that Big Charlie took out a second mortgage on the house to hire the private nurse for his mother’s care. As he cleaned up the dirty house, he also discovered a few other things.
One thing in particular that stood out to him was a photo album in Big Charlie’s office. It chronicled every moment of his childhood. His first baseball, his first basketball, his futile attempt at football – Big Charlie was there. Photos of his mother in health, in illness, and of her in a Mrs. Santa suit were also in the album. The most telling photo of all was a wedding picture of his momma and Big Charlie. One could not miss the roundness of her belly at their wedding.
“I see you found my album,” he said.
He took the photo out of the album. “She was a fine woman, your mother.” Nick had many questions, but asked only two.
“Did you love her, Dad?”
Big Charlie put the photo back in the album. “I did.” He said no more as he looked at Nick.
“Did she love you?” He had to know.
“Eventually, she learned to,” was all his father said as he walked away.
On that day Nick became proud to be a Pine and Big Charlie’s son. He had raised another man’s child as his own and loved a woman that he had married, although she married him for security. Dressing up as Santa was an escape. Initially, he had thought it was an escape from him and his mother, but Charlie was just a good man, who tried to give what he knew others needed.
Whether it was a lonely single mother in need of a moment of connecting with another person, or a young woman in trouble with a child on the way. Charlie was always helping others, and five years ago, when Nick realized Charlie was the one who needed help, he moved back home and took over the family business.
The bank was foreclosing on the house and business was going under. It would cost too much to try and upright everything and Charlie was 65. It was a better option to buy a new house, move Charlie in with him and retire his dad. Almost two years later, the business was in the black, but Nick was not one to service lonely housewives or single mothers. He did not want to be paid in pies or jars of preserves. Cold hard cash. In some cases financing.
His dad turned over and looked at his son, “Patience.”
Nick sat up in the chair. “I have her number. Do you want me to call her?”
Charlie nodded.
Is Santa... Okay?
Patience sat at her desk completely spent and out of the one thing she was named for... patience. The Millers were being difficult and wishy-washy and this close to Christmas was no time to back out. These were children, not pets. You could not take one home and bring it back if you didn’t like it. Mrs. Miller was being completely annoying and troublesome, and, try as she may, Patience was at the end.
“Mrs. Miller, if we can be perfectly honest with each other. You never know as a mother how your children are going to turn out. I am sure Jeffrey Dahmer’s parents didn’t expect him to grow up and eat people. Children turn out to be who they turn out to be. Some turn out better than others,” she told the lady.
“I know that may not be any consolation to you, but I have taken measures to give each child a personality test. These personality tests are weighted against your own, so that we have compatibility matches to your parenting style and the child’s learning style,” she said as she looked at Mr. Miller. “Jeremy is an avid football fan and loves to play the game. He thrives under direct supervision and loves the outdoors. As a potential son for you Mr. Miller, he would be ideal.”
Her eyes went to Mrs. Miller. “Jeremy is a bit of a neat nut, and loves to eat. Your cooking skills will be put to the test, because he often helps out in the kitchen here.”
Patience took a deep breath. “Did you know that I grew up here as well?” The Miller’s both looked shocked. “I was blessed to be adopted by a very loving couple who wanted to be parents.”
She stood up and walked around her desk. “Go home, think about it. If you are sincere in your desire to give him a home, then everything will come to pass. If you are uncertain, I understand. I have to do what is best for the child, and uncertain, I cannot send him home with. If you want to be his parents, then we will work together. If you are unclear, I have others who are ready to give him a home and raise him with love.”
Mrs. Miller tried to protest. “Have a good day.” She pushed the two out of her office. Her mind went back to Big Charlie. Where’s my phone?
As she located it, her office line rang. “Patience Nelson, how may I help you?”
“Big Charlie wants to see you,” said the husky voice on the other line.
“I’m on my way,” she said and clicked off the line.
Nick really wasn’t one for a lot of words. Honestly, she didn’t really know what to make of the man. As she looked at him next to Charlie, she tried hard to find a resemblance between the two men and chalked it up to the younger of the two taking after his mother. It was a little after six when she arrived at the hospital to find Nick standing on the opposite side of Charlie’s bed, helping his father open a gelatin cup.
“Good evening, you two,” she said as she pulled off her scarf and gloves and sat them on a table.
Big Charlie attempted a weak smile, but something in the way Nick looked at her made her stop in her tracks. Did I do something wrong? But it was Big Charlie, who spoke. “Glad you are here, Patience.”
She moved over to the bed and took his hand, but he pulled away. “Help me up, son,” he told Nick as he made his way to the bathroom. This left the two of them in the room alone.
Nick wore a pair of loose fitted jeans and a tucked-in, green, button down shirt with the Pines Plumbing logo. He was a dashing figure of a man. As she looked at him, he stared back at her. The longer he looked, the more interested he was becoming. It was really obvious, so that she had to ask, “Are you really that happy to
see me?”
He arched one eyebrow. “I am actually. You are a breath of fresh air. Why do you ask?”
She averted her eyes toward the ceiling, as if she were pretending to not see something, which forced him to look down.
“Oh... shoot. I’m sorry... I’m so... sorry,” he began to bumble over his words as Big Charlie made his way out of the bathroom.
“Patience,” he yelled.
“Yes, sir?”
“Take Nick to go and get some grub. Make sure he eats, too. He’s been here most of the day and has had nothing but coffee, a couple of donuts and a heaping helping of getting on my nerves,” Big Charlie said through huffs and puffs.
She didn’t want to take Mr. I’m So Hot For You anywhere! This was the second time the man looked at her and got a raging boner. It was a really beautiful one, but still, it was kind of creepy.
“I can’t leave yet or at least until I know your prognosis,” Patience told him as she pulled back the covers and helped Nick get him settled into the bed.
“My prognosis, Ms. Smarty Pants, is that I need a minute to sleep. I can’t do that with my son hovering over me like bad fish on Lent. Take him. You two, go, get,” and Big Charlie closed his eyes.
“I guess we should head out,” she said with some reluctance as she grabbed her belongings and headed towards the elevator. I don’t want to be alone in a vehicle with him. “There is a steakhouse at the end of the block. It’s not too cold out, we could walk?”
Nick only shrugged his shoulders as he donned his cap and scarf and they took the elevator down to the first floor. He carefully stood on the opposite side of the elevator away from her as if they did not know each other. The awkwardness continued as they walked down the sidewalk to the restaurant.
Something kicked in for Nick as she watched a physical transformation in him. He turned on the charm. He held the door open for her, aided her in removing her coat and held her seat. What is he up to?
Santa's Big Helper Page 2
