Christmas With Kris Kringle

Chapter 6

Wasting no time, I quickly changed out of my Santa suit and washed the white stuff from my beard before assisting Belen to her car. She fought my help, claiming she could manage but when I let her try walking unsupported, she stumbled and almost veered into oncoming traffic. I decided it was best we take her car home so she would have it tomorrow if she needed it. After pushing the driver seat in her Acura all the way back, I was able to fit comfortably and I hopped on the I-35 toward her place. When she was all squared away at home, I would take a RideX back to my car still parked at the mall.

“So you and Aiden?” I asked, trying to delicately fish for information. I thought Belen was flirting with me these past few weeks, but maybe that was all for the purpose of making Aiden jealous. The last thing I wanted was to get caught up in any office drama.

“There is no me and Aiden.” She sat in the passenger seat clutching the grab handle even though I was driving under the speed limit at sixty miles per hour. “He’s my ex.”

“And a liar and a cheater?” My eyes darted between her and the snowy road.

“That’s why he’s my ex.”

I worked my mouth into a judging wad. “Seems like he would like to fix that.”

“Wordbop of the day. Six letters. Hint, to come to an end.”

I fell silent, giving it a quick thought. She wasn’t good at Wordbop, the words she selected were always too easy. “Finish?”

“You know the saying making a fool of me once is one thing, but making a fool of me on several occasions with multiple women is another thing entirely.”

“I feel like you took some liberties in the rephrasing. But I’m generally picking up what you’re putting down.”

For the majority of our drive, Belen’s focus was on the snow which fell in quick succession, making it difficult to make out the taillights ahead. When she turned to look at me, I followed suit. Her next words caught me off guard. “I’m single by the way.”

The knowledge settled warmly in the middle of my stomach. This was the second time she’d mentioned being single. Clearly it was a fact she thought I should know. “Okay.”

Belen twisted her body so she was completely facing me. “Why’d you say it like that?”

I blinked owlishly. “How did I say it?”

“It lacked enthusiasm. Like okay, no one cares.” Belen’s words were slow and drawn out. I couldn’t tell if it was from the blow to the head or exhaustion.

“How was I supposed to say it?”

Her voice lifted, taking on a cheery tone. “Like … okay good to know, filing that under useful information.”

“Why would that be useful information?” I was far from a game player but I never liked revealing all my cards. Was I interested? Hell yes. Did she need to know just how much? No.

She sat in silence for a bit, her brows knitted. “I’m a woman,” she finally said, pressing her hands to her chest.

I nodded in agreement. She was indeed that. A beautiful woman who was making it difficult for me to keep my eyes on the slow lane. I was easily distracted by the hint of cleavage that rose and fell as she took each breath. And then there were her delicate hands, not an outstanding feature, but when I imagined them gliding over my chest until they landed on my dick, it caused my heart rate to spike.

“You’re a man.” Her hand found my knee, causing me to clutch the steering wheel for dear life. “I don’t know, Kris. Maybe you could ask me on a date. Or at the very least, set me up with your emotionally damaged friend so I can fix him.”

I didn’t know Belen well, but I knew enough to know this forward approach was out of character. This woman didn’t chase men. She was too busy beating them off with a stick. “You like do-it-yourself projects?”

“Yeah, my entire dating life has been one big fucking craft show.”

“Well sorry, I don’t have any available friends that fit the bill.”

“Cousin, distant uncle, dog walker?”

“Nah, just me.”

“That’ll do just fine.” Her eyes tripped over the length of my body.

If I wasn’t driving and she wasn’t suffering from head trauma, this would be the part where we kissed with the possibility of some old school dry humping, but that would have to wait for another day.

“Kris?” Belen’s voice was breathy and low.

“Yeah.”

“Are the lights swirling around the sky or is that just me?”

My face dropped along with any thoughts of her naked body writhing on top of mine. “We’re going to the urgent care.”

Belen opened her mouth to protest, but I shot her a look shutting down any remaining fight. In the waiting room of the MedHealth Urgent Care, Belen held onto my hand, her left leg bouncing while she muttered to herself under her breath.

“It’s going to be okay. This is just a precaution.” I hoped to alleviate some of her anxiety.

“I hate hospitals.”

“This is more like a doctor’s office than a hospital.”

“Are there doctors?”

“Yes.”

“And nurses in scrubs.”

“Also yes.”

“I’m a bit groggy but I still know those two things equate hospital.”

“I just want a doctor to confirm you’re alright. I played football in high school and college. And untreated concussions can end in memory loss or death.”

Her eyes grew wide.

“But nothing like that is going to happen to you. This is just a routine checkup.” The muscles in my jaw bunched. Belen did not need to hear worst-case scenarios right now.

“Belen Goodwin,” a nurse called.

“Here.” Belen stood and walked toward the nurse, dragging me with her because she refused to let go of my hand.

“Your friend will have to stay in the waiting room,” the nurse instructed.

“He’s not my friend.” Belen sized me up. “He’s my emotional support human.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but facility protocol only allows family memb …”

“Well we are family,” Belen blurted out, stepping over the nurse’s unfinished sentence.

Our nurse’s eyes narrowed. “What is the nature of your relationship?”

Belen released a chuckle. “That’s a loaded question.”

“I’m her brother,” I said. Unfortunately, Belen answered at the same time and claimed I was her husband. I offered an apologetic smile. “It’s complicated.”

The redheaded nurse released her pursed lips. “Follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin.”

While we waited in the exam room, I tried to keep Belen talking. “Why do you hate hospitals?”

“Because nothing good ever happens at hospitals.” Belen pinched at the skin on her neck, something I never noticed her do before. It was like the thought of being in a hospital was unlocking a new glitch.

“What do you mean? Babies are born and people’s lives are saved every day.”

Belen swallowed hard and looked down at her feet, which were dangling off the side of the exam table. “I spent years in and out of hospitals when my father was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I still remember the expressions on the nurses’ faces change from hopeful to grieved when they realized there was nothing more they could do but keep him comfortable. Eventually he died due to complications from chronic respiratory disease. My dad was always a ‘the glass is half full’ type of guy. So even on his deathbed, he put on a brave face and told me everything was going to be okay. And I believed him because life without my father wasn’t an option.

“I hate that stupid platitude. When people tell you everything is going to be okay, it’s usually a lie. How were things going to be okay when I was losing the person who knew me before I knew myself? It’s like my safety blanket was ripped from me. In a flash, our already small family was down to two.”

“How long has it been since?—”

“Almost four years. He fought for months and then days after Christmas he was gone.”

I stood and claimed Belen’s hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Me too.” Belen continued to pinch at her skin as if she hoped the physical pain would dull the emotional trauma. “Life is cruel. You build these deep relationships only for them to be ripped from you. And you’re just expected to keep going like there isn’t a huge black cloud over your entire existence.”

“I like to think the relationships we create are what make life worth living. I’m not in any way suggesting losing the ones we love the most isn’t hard. But shutting down isn’t the answer. We need to find meaning in the time we had with them. Happiness is hidden in the memories.”

“What if all my memories are bad ones?”

“With all due respect, I’d venture to say you’re focusing on how it ended and not all the meaningful parts in between. I’ve never lost a parent, so I’m not going to pretend I understand that type of pain. But I think your father would want you to find the sunlight even in your darkest moments.”

For the first time in minutes, Belen looked me in the eyes. The warm, gregarious woman I come to appreciate was replaced by a woman nursing a deep wound that only time could repair.

“He was an amazing cook. We always told him he should be on one of those cooking competition shows. He could make my least favorite vegetable taste delicious and have me going back for seconds. I didn’t inherit that skill. I can cook with a recipe, but he’d create new meals from his imagination. He was super creative, and he encouraged our creativity. Which is probably why I became an event planner.”

“Sounds like his imaginative spirit lives on in you.”

Belen closed her eyes and was silent for a long while. I was afraid she might have fallen asleep. “Belen,” I whispered.

Her next words caught me by surprise. “Did you know that back in the day sloths were as big as elephants?”

“No.” I eyed the door, concerned she was becoming disoriented. Where the fuck was the doctor? For urgent care, they were sure taking their sweet ass time.

“My sister told me that.” As if a fire was lit, her eyes shot open and her face was marred with alarm as she dug through her purse pulling out her phone. Belen typed a quick text. Only after her phone dinged indicating a response, did she appear to relax. “My sister’s alone and I don’t want her to worry. I told her I’d be home soon.”

After a ten-minute visit, the doctor confirmed Belen had a mild concussion. He recommended she rest for the next twenty-four hours and perform light activity such as housework or walking when she felt up to it. With a diagnosis secured, we were back on the road headed to her apartment building.