Have Yourself a Naughty Little Santa

by Karin Tabke

  She smiled as she watched two kids playing under the warm glow of streetlights in cumbersome red snow-suits. They were throwing big, fluffy snowballs at each other. A golden retriever ran crazily around the kids, barking and trying to intercept the balls. The kids shrieked in joy, the dog barked happily, and Mom and Dad stood smiling to the side. What a pretty picture. Kim frowned. Not. Screaming kids and shedding dogs were an annoyance she was happy to be free of. And the snowballs? Cold and wet. She liked warm and dry.

  She turned away from the postcard picture and thought of Ricco again. How many runny-nosed little bastards did he have running around this town with his last name? Didn’t he care how his absence affected his children?

  Her frown deepened, and she shook off the sudden feeling of malaise those thoughts stirred up. The kids would survive somehow. They always did. She was a prime example. Shoving the irritating emotions aside, Kim grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She was going to go downstairs, eat, then hit the town. There was no time for dalliances even if the cock of the walk wasn’t linked to every woman in the county.

  • • •

  “ARE YOU HUNGRY?” A DEEP VOICE ASKED FROM THE SHADOWS of the entryway as her foot hit the last step of the wide stairway. Kim jumped back, catching her breath.

  “Stop doing that!” she groused, collecting herself. Kim shot the now clad and much too handsome Ricco Maza a glare and pushed past him. His spicy, evergreen-infused scent seriously messed with her head. When he followed her into the kitchen, she was painfully aware they were quite alone in the big house.

  As she entered the kitchen, the warm scent of gingersnaps assailed her nostrils. Her smile was quickly followed by a sad mien. Gran used to make the best gingersnaps on the planet. Kim could still taste them. Warm and just a tad soft before they hardened. And the spices she’d used had been fresh and aromatic. No one made them like Gran. And though they were Kim’s favorite, she had not eaten one since Christmas day, thirty years ago.

  Ricco pulled the red-and-green checkered cloth from the tray of cookies and snatched up a handful. He meandered to the fridge and poured himself a tall glass of milk. Like a little boy, he stood at the counter and happily munched. So engrossed was he in his snack that he forgot about her until she cleared her throat. He grinned and offered her the last cookie. “No, thank you,” she softly said and moved to the covered tray that Ezzy had left for her on the butcher block table.

  Ricco popped the last cookie in his mouth and chugged down the last of his milk. He wiped his mouth on a napkin, then headed for the back kitchen door. “You gonna be all right here by yourself?”

  Her head snapped back. “I’m not a two-year-old.”

  He shook his head. “Lady, I don’t know what school you went to, but around here a simple ‘yes, thank you’ or ‘no, thank you’ goes a long way.” He turned the knob on the door and said over his shoulder, “You have fun with yourself.” Then he shut the door soundly behind him.

  She sat down and pulled the cloth from the tray. While the fresh-baked biscuits and gravy, chicken, peas, and mashed potatoes should have made her belly happy, she only stared at the full plate. Picking up the fork, she picked at and pushed the peas around on the crowded plate. Gran used to chide her for her food art. Even as a child, Kim had never had much of an appetite. The good part was that she’d never had a weight problem, and even if she had, she was a gym rat. She whiled away hours in the gym.

  She dropped the fork, and it clattered against the red-and-white delft plate. She didn’t want to do anything except go back up to her room, crawl between the comforter and soft flannels sheets, and sleep for a week. She shook her head. What the hell was wrong with her? It wasn’t like her to mope. She needed to get herself out of this funk.

  She looked up from the concoction on her plate to the door Ricco had exited, and she caught her breath. He stood staring at her through the window. He shook his head again, and she stiffened. He opened the door and said, “Go get your jacket.”

  “I—”

  “Just do it, Kim, and for once don’t argue.”

  She sat defiantly for a long moment, when he walked past her up the stairs and returned with her big camel sheerer jacket. He tossed it to her. “Come with me.”

  Slowly she stood, knowing she’d regret it, but a prick of excitement tickled her belly. She shrugged on the jacket and followed him out the back door. “Aren’t you going to lock the door?” she asked him.

  Ricco turned to look at her, his brows raised in surprise. “We’re in Evergreen, no one locks their doors here.”

  “But—”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. “No buts.”

  As they came around the front of the big inn, she noticed that all of the sidewalks were neatly cleared, the snow pushed to the sides. They worked fast. They had to. From the homework she’d done on the town, she knew they had a robust artisanal trade year-round but that the mainstay to the economy was tourism from the week of Thanksgiving to the day after the New Year. Evergreen was a quaint Christmas mecca renowned for its scenic tranquility. And for the annual Christmas parade. While many cities and towns across the country had pulled back from the original reason for the season, Evergreen prided itself on its nativity parade and live nativity scene in the center of town. It was one of the most photographed Christmas scenes in the country. But the last five years of bad weather during the holidays had put a crunch on the little town. They were feeling the pinch. And this year they had done the unthinkable—advertised on national television. It had cost them a pretty penny, too.

  If it didn’t pay off? Kim grinned. If it didn’t pay off for them, then it would pay off for Land’s Edge. And she was counting on another deluge of snow to keep the tourists out.

  Kim shivered, but it wasn’t from the chilly air—it was from anticipation, the rush, the excitement of the hunt, then the kill. She smiled, her mood suddenly lifted. That was what she did, and it was why she was here. To hunt and ultimately snare the town into submission.

  She took a deep breath and ignored Ricco’s wary eye on her. The air was chilly, but there was no wind and nary a breeze. The moon was waxing and the stars twinkled in the clear sky. Ricco pulled her across the street, and Kim counted no fewer than three snowmen. Gay holiday wreaths and twinkling clear white lights illuminated the houses they passed. “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace to eat. It’s loud and crowded, but the food is always good and the company the best.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.”

  Two steps later he turned up a gaily decorated sidewalk to a smaller version of Esmeralda’s B&B. This house was built with fresh cedar logs. It had a green copper roof and green shutters. All of the light fixtures were brass, the glass beveled. It was warm and inviting. She could hear the shriek of children’s laughter halfway up the poinsettia-lined sidewalk. She balked.

  Ricco turned on her, an angry frown marring his handsome face. “I’m starving here!”

  She shook her head and stepped back. “I don’t do well around children. They, uh, they don’t like me, and I don’t care for them.”

  He pulled her along, and she stumbled behind him. “These kids don’t bite.”

  She knew she was making a huge mistake. When the door flew open from the inside and a female shrieked, followed by, “Papi! I’ve missed you so much!” Kim cringed. Great. She was meeting the mother. Ricco grabbed the tall, striking woman up into his arms and twirled her around, kissing her cheeks. “Hola, Mama!”

  Kim watched the doorway fill with more women and watched as the children squeezed in between the grown-up bodies, their little heads popping out, their eyes wide, the smiles near face-splitting. Kim stiffened. Holy shit! Both Elle and Esmeralda were there, and so was another woman with a kid! Kim backed up. No way. This was too damn weird. And his mother was in on this?

  Ricco set the smiling woman down and turned to Kim, his eyes bright, his smile wide. “Mama, this is Kim Michaels. I f
ound her in a snowbank. She’s grumpy, doesn’t like kids, and says she’s here on vacation, which I don’t believe, but she’s hungry. Can you help her out?”

  Kim scowled and tried to smile at the tall, gracious, auburn-haired lady, who now studied her with less than appreciative, deep, hazel-colored eyes. “Of course.”

  Ricco turned to the doorway filled with kids and women and said, “Well? Come give your tio a hug!” A gangly boy of about twelve leapt forward and clung to Ricco’s neck like a noose, followed by an adorable (well, adorable if she was into kids) little girl with big dark eyes and thick golden curls. They were joined by another toddler boy and Krista, who squealed as she pressed against the horde that clung to Ricco’s legs, arms, and back. Tio Ricco.

  Heat filled Kimberly’s cheeks, and she felt like a complete and utter idiot. These were his sisters, not his concubines. Kim stepped back, as if she’d somehow been intruding on a private moment. A hard knot tightened in her belly. The sisters, all laughing and speaking in soft, melodic Spanish, peeled the kids from their uncle—all except the oldest boy. His dark eyes narrowed her way as Ricco carried him into the house. The boy looked at Kim as if she’d been an unwanted intruder. She felt like one.

  The chilled air whipped around her head, lifting her hair, and Kim shivered hard. A firm hand touched her elbow. She started and looked up to the wise eyes of Ricco’s mother. “My name is Leticia, but my friends call me Leti,” she said.

  Kim forced a smile. “I’m Kimberly.”

  “Welcome, Kimberly, but I warn you. The kids haven’t seen their uncle in a long time, and they are very selfish and quite aggressive with his time when he is here. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Kim hurried to assure her it was not. “Not at all. It’s not like that between us.”

  “Are you saying you aren’t involved with my son?”

  Kim nearly choked. Heat rose in her cheeks. Leti patted her hand. “I don’t mean to be so blunt, but you are the first girl he’s brought home…er, ever…and as you can plainly see”—Leti pointed to her smiling son, who was laughing and playing with the children—“my boy has a way not only with the children but the ladies as well. It cannot be resisted.”

  Kim removed Leti’s hand from her arm, then faced her. “Mrs. Maza. I am not romantically involved with your son. I’m here because—” She frowned. “I’m here to relax. And I can assure you there is nothing between us.”

  Leti smiled, the fine lines around her knowing dark green eyes crinkling. “If you say so.”

  Kimberly just shook her head. There was nothing between her and this woman’s son now, and there sure wasn’t going to be any in the future. And it didn’t matter what this woman thought. In a week she would be gone and the town a distant memory.

  Though she didn’t want to be there, the minute Kim entered the abode, casa Maza assaulted every sense she possessed, with its warmth, fragrant scents, and laughter. The one sister she had not met, who resembled Ricco like a twin, introduced herself as Jasmine before she ducked back into the cavernous kitchen and continued to chatter with the other women. Ricco wrestled with the kids, the sisters bustled around, setting the long dining room table, happily chatting amongst themselves. A phone rang from a back room, and Leti’s animated voice answered. Kim was all but forgotten. And it was okay with her. It gave her the time to look around and absorb her surroundings without being observed herself.

  The house, though smaller than the B&B by more than half the square footage, had an open, welcoming feeling to it. Cedar-paneled walls combined with painted drywall and thick woodwork gave the large, open family room an airy feeling. The large river rock fireplace that blazed in the corner drew her with its warmth. Krista screamed and waddled past her older cousin, who chased her on all fours, then she grabbed Kim’s leg, ducking behind her. The little hands digging into her calves startled her. Kim stiffened. She didn’t like to be touched.

  Ricco laughed and came crawling across the thickly carpeted floor, making funny growling noises that sent Krista into a fit of giggles. Kim’s blood quickened as she watched this big, strapping man, a man who, with just his lips, had made her feel things she had never felt, play like a big kid. She wanted to scream and laugh and have him chase her, tickling her until she laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe. She wanted him to press her down into the thick carpet and kiss her and tell her how beautiful she was. She wanted…

  Seven

  “DINNER’S ON THE TABLE!” ELLE ANNOUNCED. RICCO grabbed Krista up, rescuing Kim from the little girl’s clutches. The older boy stared at Kim so intently that she would have sworn he knew her secret. Ricco tousled the boy’s dark hair and said, “C’mon, ’Tonio, Grandma’s worked all day.”

  The boy gave Kim a sideways look before he stalked off. She looked up to Ricco, who watched her watch ’Tonio. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  Ricco smiled and shifted Krista in his arms. “’Tonio isn’t very happy with the world right now. It’s not you.”

  “When was the last time his dad came around?” she asked. Ricco’s eyes narrowed. “Elle mentioned it at the clinic,” she hurried to explain.

  “Ricco!” Elle called. He stepped aside and motioned for Kim to pass. He pulled out a chair for her near the end of the table and handed Krista off to her mother. After Kim sat down, Ricco sat in the empty chair at the end of the table next to her. His mother sat at the other end. The sisters and their children filled in the sides. It occurred to Kim that at that moment, he was the only dependable male in the family.

  Once the kids were settled and the din of voices lowered, Leti said, “Antonio? Would you say grace, please?”

  The boy looked as if he was about to defy his grandmother, when Ricco coughed. ’Tonio’s cheeks pinkened, and he dutifully put his head down and folded his hands. Kim bowed her head and folded her hands, feeling extremely self-conscious. She hadn’t said a prayer since she was eight, and then the only one she’d known had been the one Gran had taught her to say before going to sleep.

  The table grew quiet; even the younger children remained silent as they waited for ’Tonio to speak. The boy cleared his throat and began, “Lord, thank you for bringing my uncle Ricky home, and please make him stay. Bring Uncle Ray home from Iraq, and Uncle Donny home from his new business. And keep my father far away from me! Amen.”

  “Antonio!” Elle said. The boy shot his mother a glare, and Leti put her hand on her daughter’s arm. “It’s okay, Elena. It was a good prayer. Most of it, anyway.” She looked down the table and smiled at her son. “Maybe we could see more of you in the future?”

  Ricco smiled. “Duty calls.”

  Jasmine piped up, “Your family is your duty.”

  And with that the floodgates opened, and Ricco was deluged by the females and the little people of his family to come home and stay put. Finally he raised his hand and said, “Can we please eat?”

  Leti nodded, and the family dug in. More conversation erupted. “Ricco, are the roads cleared?” Leti asked.

  He nodded as he scooped up a large mound of fluffy Spanish rice. He put half of it on Kim’s plate and the other half on his. “Clear as glass. Evergreen is open for business.”

  “Let’s hope the regulars get the news and we get a rush of fresh faces,” Jasmine said. “Enrollment at the school is down thirty percent.”

  “I have several guests coming in tomorrow and, God willing, a few walk-ins. I’m booked for the week of Christmas and through to the New Year,” Esmeralda contributed.

  Leti nodded and passed a platter of yummy-looking chili verde. Ricco passed around the salad bowl, filled with sliced avocado, tomatillos, white onion, and cilantro mixed with fresh greens, corn salsa, and blue tortilla strips, tossed in what smelled like a lime and pico de gallo vinaigrette. Her nose followed the casserole of enchiladas. Then a bowl stacked high with tamales. The aromas were wonderful, and the conversation enlightening. Her appetite suddenly voracious, Kim dug in. But she never once forgot why she was there
. “Has there been a problem with tourists?” she casually asked.

  As one, all the adult eyes turned to her and stared as if remembering her presence. She didn’t mind; she’d grown used to it as a child. Elle nodded and answered, “We’ve been cursed with bad weather the last half of December for the last five years. The last few years have been the hardest. It’s caught up with us. Bad weather has kept the tourist trade away. The only way into and out of Evergreen is on 82. Regular snow is not a problem, but when it keeps coming down we can’t remove it fast enough, and when they close 80, it’s the kiss of death.”

  “Is the town in trouble?”

  Leti smiled, and it wasn’t a happy gesture. “We’ve had rough spots before and weathered those. We’ll weather this one as well.”

  “Mama’s the town controller and a private CPA. She knows who owes what and to whom, and if she says Evergreen will pull out of this slump, then we will,” Esmeralda proudly said.

  “The Martinez family finally put the marina up and pulled both of their kids out of St. Anne’s. Mother Justina is worried and is making cuts,” Jasmine said as she fed her little boy a piece of tamale.

  “Is your job in jeopardy?” Ricco asked.

  Jasmine nodded. “I’ve updated my resumé.”

  “For what?” Ricco asked.

  Jasmine set down the piece of tamale and looked at her brother. “For your information, little brother, I have a master’s in child development. I’m not your garden-variety teacher.”

  “I know that, Jazz. What I meant was, what is there here for you in Evergreen other than teaching?”

  She looked down at her plate, then looked back up to her brother. “Nothing. I’d commute to Reno or move to Sac.”

  “No!” Elle and Esmeralda said in unison.

  Jazz set her fork down and put her elbows on the table. She looked around at her family. “What am I supposed to do, then? Live off my family? Don is never home, and while he makes a decent living, we can’t survive on his salary. I need to work.”