A Twist of Christmas Fate
Scarlett Knight
A Twist of Christmas Fate
Copyright © 2018, Scarlett Knight
Published by Painted Hearts Publishing
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A Twist of Christmas Fate
Copyright © 2018 Scarlett Knight
Publication Date: December 2018
Author: Scarlett Knight
Editor: Kira Plotts
All cover art and logo copyright © 2018 by Painted Hearts Publishing
Cover design by E Keith
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
It was two days before Christmas, and I was really kicking myself.
My entire family was up in New York with my younger brother, his wife, and their brand new baby I had yet to meet. Where was I? I was stuck in Texas due to a winter storm that had developed up on the eastern coast, one which did not look to be dissipating any time soon.
If I had gone up with the rest of the family three days earlier, I would have been there. Workaholic that I am, however, I thought I could use the extra time to get ahead on lesson plans for a new class I was going to be teaching in the spring. Now my workaholic tendencies were biting me on the ass. It was December 23rd, and I had nowhere to go and no one to be with for Christmas.
I pulled up a picture of my new niece on my phone. She was three months old and all smiles. This picture in particular, I was totally in love with. She had on one of those adorable little lacy headbands, a red one, with a little bow on top. Because I was a lesbian, I didn’t see getting pregnant anywhere in my future, unless I did it artificially, but that idea never had appealed to me. Instead, I greatly wanted to adopt a child someday. Getting to be around my new niece would have been the next best thing, but here I was, alone in an empty apartment. My vision grew fuzzy as my eyes teared up.
I needed to stop dwelling on the situation I’d gotten myself into since there was nothing I could do to change it. Maybe I could clean the apartment for the second time today? Surely there were some nooks and crannies that needed dusting that I had missed.
Just as I was about to put my phone on the charger, it buzzed in my hand. Checking it, I furrowed my brow. It was a request for a FaceTime from my friend Jasmine Torrez. I answered the call, checking the little square in the corner that showed my face. I subconsciously ran a hand over my hair, smoothing the wisps of dark chocolate-colored strands that had escaped from my ponytail. As Jasmine’s infectious grin filled the middle of my phone screen, I smiled and waved at her. She waved back.
“Hey, Kate!” she said. “I am so glad you answered!”
She was dressed like an elf, bells tinkling on the green and red hat she wore over her jet-black hair. Her voice was accompanied by Christmas music and a cacophony of squealing kids. I could see enough behind her to tell she was standing in a mall.
“Jasmine!” I said. “How’ve you been?”
“Great! Busy! I feel like we haven’t talked in ages!”
“I think last time was summer, when we got together for your birthday.”
“I think you’re right. Time flies!”
“I know. I feel like it moves faster every year I get older.”
“Tell me about it! Sometimes I feel like only yesterday we were together walking around the halls of our high school, but that was nearly ten years ago.” The noise around her made it hard to hear her. “How was your semester?”
“Oh, it went by fine, thanks!”
“So you’re off work for the holidays, I’m guessing?”
“Yes.” I filled her in on the unfortunate situation with my flight to New York being canceled.
“Oh, no!” she said. “That’s terrible! Well, maybe actually good for me…”
Huh? Just what was she calling for?
“You look like you’re up at the mall,” I stated.
“Yeah! So, I guess I’ll get right down to it. I was calling you to see if I could get you to do a huge favor for me.”
“Oh?”
“You know how I do the Christmas photo shoot with the Santa set-up at the mall every year?”
“Yes?”
“Well—and don’t kill me for asking you this—and don’t feel like you have to say yes!”
I braced myself. Whenever Jasmine asked for favors, they generally weren’t small, but she was the kind of friend who always had my back when I needed something, day or night. I already knew I’d help her out in any way I could.
“My Mrs. Claus has the flu, called me this morning last minute,” she continued. “Some of the kiddos are as sad as can be because now there is no Mrs. Claus. I’ve gone down my contact list in my phone, and everyone is either busy today with plans or they didn’t answer. Would you possibly be willing to drive into Dallas and be Mrs. Claus for the rest of the day and maybe tomorrow morning? The mall is open until 9:00 tonight, and tomorrow it’s open until noon. I have a spare costume and a wig that should fit you.”
I really didn’t have a good excuse to say no, other than the fact that I was a terrible actor. I also hated driving to Dallas, especially around the holidays, and I was not the kind of person who was very comfortable in huge crowds. But what else was I going to do over the next few days? For the past two weeks, I’d been cooped up in my apartment working on the damn lesson plans. I wasn’t like most people, though. Math was something I enjoyed. It was safe. It was reliable. But even math teachers needed a little spontaneity from time to time.
Jasmine swung her phone around to show me the long line of families waiting for pictures; then there was a quick blur of Santa and what appeared to be two female elves beside him all waving at me. I blinked, mildly disoriented. Then Jasmine’s face filled the screen again.
“What do you think?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
“Yes! Thank you! I will owe you big time for this, Kate!”
“I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
“Great! See you soon!”
I filled my tea kettle and set it on the stove and then looked through my holiday-flavored teas. I especially loved cinnamon this time of year, so I chose a cinnamon-flavored black tea. My kitchen, like the rest of my cozy North Richland Hills apartment, was decorated with tiny Christmas trees. I’d set them out on wall shelves, the TV console, and my bedroom dresser. Some were made of wood, some metallic, and others playfully colored plastic and covered in glitter that coated your hands if you touched them. Pity I didn’t have anyone to come over and see any of it. Not being around my family, I was feeling painfully single. For the first time in a while, I allowed myself to calculate how long it’d been since I’d had someone to romantically share Christmas with. Four years? Wow. That was k
ind of pitiful.
As the teakettle began to whistle, I took a deep breath.
Enough feeling sorry for myself. It was time to get out and have a little fun.
***
Not even the soothing sounds of Mozart streaming from my car speakers could keep me from gritting my teeth out in that traffic. It was just about as bad as I had imagined it. Still, it was nice to get out of my apartment.
When I spotted the exit I needed to take to get to the mall, my spirits lifted. Almost there. As I pulled into the parking garage, I realized my war with traffic wasn’t quite over. Everyone in Dallas was apparently at the mall today. I drove around for what seemed like ages before finally finding a parking spot. Then I shot Jasmine a quick text: I’m here! Sorry it took so long. Traffic was nuts! Where can I find you?
She gave me the location of the set-up. I made my way through the garage and into the mall. Once inside, a mash-up of noise greeted me: Christmas music, tons of voices, advertisements. I eased through a crowd of people to one of the mall’s maps and found the dot with the arrow that said YOU ARE HERE. Good, at least I knew where I was. I found the area on the map where Jasmine was supposed to be and then headed that way like a woman on a mission.
First, I had to dodge multiple people who worked in various stores and kiosks who all tried to convince me to buy their product as I walked by. Waving them off in the nicest way possible, I thought of all the Christmas presents I had packed up to take to my family in New York. They were still sitting in the suitcase in my closet.
Come on, now, I thought. Don’t start feeling sorry for yourself again. Let today be fun. You can mail the presents to your brother and hand-deliver them to your parents when they get back. Problem solved.
It wasn’t hard to spot the Santa photo set-up once I got in the vicinity. A long line of children stood in clear anticipation, their eyes wide, their smiles even wider. Many were staring at the little boy who currently sat on Santa’s lap. Whoever Jasmine had playing Santa was perfect for the job. Round, jolly, with a contagious St. Nick laugh, he made the boy giggle as they posed for their photos. Santa sat on a green throne placed in front of a makeshift gingerbread house, which was so delightfully designed I could practically smell fresh cookies and creamy icing. The throne next to him was empty. I assumed it was for Mrs. Claus.
Santa gave the boy a candy cane and whispered something in his ear that made the boy start beaming. Then a bubbly elf played by a young woman with long blonde hair leaned down and gave the boy a hug before he ran back to his guardian. Ah, to be a kid and to believe in magic. Those were the days.
I didn’t realize that I’d been standing there, like a kid myself, soaking in the Christmas joy when someone grabbed me by the arm. Startled, I felt my body tense, but then I relaxed when I realized it was only Jasmine.
“Hey, you!” she said, and we hugged.
The bells on her elf hat jingled as she unhooked the velvet ropes and led me across a patch of carpet that looked like a tree skirt, toward the back of the gingerbread house.
“I am so happy you are here,” she said. “I’ve got Mickey back here getting your costume ready. She’ll help you suit up.”
She led me to a door with a candy-cane knob, and I said, “This set is incredible! Who made it?”
“That would be Santa, himself! Tom’s been playing Santa here at the mall for the past ten years. Built the set himself. He has a gift.”
“And clearly good with kids.”
“Sure is. Did you see the elf beside him?”
“Briefly.”
“That’s his daughter, Cassandra. Real doll. Super sweet. But let me introduce you to Mickey.”
She knocked on the gingerbread door, and when it opened, my breath caught in my throat.
“Kate,” Jasmine said, “this is Mickey. Mickey, this is Kate. There’s food inside. Help yourself throughout the day when you need to refuel. Sorry for the quick introduction, but I’ve gotta get back to my camera. See you gals out front!”
“Hey,” Mickey said, “nice to meet you.”
She extended a hand. Her nails were painted a sparkly green. My heart kicked in my chest. It felt wrong having the immediate hots for someone dressed as a Christmas elf, but I absolutely could not help myself. Her hair, a sexy pixie cut, was dyed a festive shade of magenta. Her full lips matched the shade of her hair. She had the vibe of a Hollywood starlet. It wasn’t just her beauty; it was the way she held herself. Confidence exuded from her, but not cockiness. There was warmth and friendliness in her ready smile.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said.
I felt my face flush as her hand gently squeezed mine. She smelled faintly of cinnamon, and her skin was so exquisitely soft. I smiled, letting go of her hand. I headed into the cramped dressing area so she wouldn’t see me blush.
“Costume in here I presume?” I asked, looking around.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The inside was a lot more disorganized than the outside. I stepped over a duffel bag and into some fluffy fake snow. I found the food on a card table in the corner: a plate of Christmas cookies, unopened bags of chips and beef jerky, a coffee maker, and bottles of water. Makeup was scattered across the communal vanity in the other corner. I spotted what had to be Mrs. Claus’s dress draped over the back of the vanity chair. On the chair cushion sat a short curly gray wig fitted on a Styrofoam head.
“This it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I reached for the dress and lifted it off the chair. She was still in the room and still looking at me. I stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Was she going to watch me undress?
“Oh!” she said with a laugh. “Sorry.” Then she turned around. “I work at a bar. You get desensitized to things.”
“So you’re a bartender?” I asked, relieved that she wasn’t going to be scrutinizing me in my underwear.
“Yes. My original plan was to be an actress, but I haven’t made it out to LA quite yet.”
Now that she was turned away from me, I was secretly thrilled to be able to check out her backside. Even in her red and green elf costume, she had a gorgeous figure. Again, I felt totally improper having lustful feelings for an elf, but whatever. This entire situation was out of the norm for me.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I teach math at a community college.” I folded my shirt and pants and placed them on the back of the chair where the dress had been. “I’m a terrible actress, but I’m going to give it my best.”
She chuckled. “I bet you’ll do fine!”
“So how do you know Jasmine?” I asked, then pulled the thick garment over my head.
“She did my headshots a few years ago.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah, we got along so well that I asked her out for coffee. My heart broke a little when I found out she was married, and to a man! Bummer. Oh, well. You win some, you lose some.”
My heart skipped a beat. Was Mickey into women? I turned to her, and she was still politely facing the wall.
“So,” I began carefully, “you were bummed when you found out Jasmine wasn’t into women?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m as queer as they come.”
“I see.” Pulse racing, I said, “You can turn around now. I’m dressed.”
She turned, a coy smile now on her face. “Are you into women?”
“As it happens, yes.” I blushed fiercely, and there was no escaping her seeing it. “I’m a lesbian, but I swear I wasn’t hitting on you. I mean, you’re beautiful, but I wouldn’t presume—”
Her smile grew wider, more flirtatious. Could I be any more awkward?
“Thanks for the compliment,” she said, winking.
“You’re welcome,” I said. I cleared my throat.
“Hmm.” She put her hands on her hips and turned her head to the side. “A queer Mrs. Claus.” She grinned. “I could get into that.”
I reached for the wig, wishing I had a fan directed at my face, which was growing unusually hot.<
br />
“So you’re a math teacher,” she said. “If I were still a student, I probably would have had a terrible crush on you.”
“It’s kind of warm in here, isn’t it?” I nodded toward the door, wanting more than anything to get out of this uncomfortable situation. “Probably ought to hurry up and get out there to help.”
She approached me and gently took the wig, the coarse gray hair sliding from my fingers. Giving my arm a reassuring squeeze, she smiled warmly, the playfulness from earlier now replaced with compassion.
“I was just teasing you a second ago,” she said. “Not about being queer, which I very much am, but please don’t let my compulsion to be a total flirt scare you away. I’ll stop. You seem like a nice person, and I’m glad you’re here. You’re really helping us out a lot today.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, breathing in her cinnamon scent.
“Okay, so leave your hair in the ponytail, and kind of wrap it around like a bun.”
I attempted to do as told. “Like this?”
“Yes. Hold it in place like that.” She pulled a wig cap out from inside of the wig. “I’ll slide this onto your head.”
Feeling her fingers in my hair as she put the wig cap in place, I stood, my gaze transfixed on her lips. She was almost close enough to kiss. My body responded to her nearness, and it became painfully apparent to me how long it had been since I’d physically been this close to a woman. This was one of the hazards of being married to one’s job. When she got my hair secured underneath the wig cap, she then put the wig on and fixed it into place with a couple of pins.
“There,” she said. “Now you’re Mrs. Claus!”
She turned me around to a long mirror that had been propped up against the wall. I looked pretty good. For not being an actress, I had to admit, this was kind of fun. Mickey left my side only for a second and returned with a black pencil.
“We don’t have time for full makeup,” she said, “but I can draw some smile lines and some crow’s feet on you to age you a bit.” She lowered her voice to a playful whisper, “Don’t want it to look like Santa’s robbing the cradle with you!”
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