Christmas With Kris Kringle

Chapter 7

I fumbled with my keys, taking several attempts to connect with the lock. But before I could twist the key, the door swung open. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried.” My sister, Celeste, stood at the door, hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry. There was an incident at work?—”

“We missed The Hidden Singer .”

“Can I walk through the door before you read me the riot act?”

Celeste stepped aside, allowing Kris and me to enter. “It’s Thursday. On Thursdays we make bow tie pasta and watch The Hidden Singer .”

“That sounds like a solid Thursday night,” Kris offered, while bracing his arms wide, ready to assist in case I needed help as I made my way into the apartment.

“Who is he?” Celeste asked, eyeing Kris suspiciously. “Who are you?”

“This is Kris, from work. I bumped my head and he drove me home.”

Celeste scooped my hands in hers. “Are you alright?”

“Yep, I’m fine. No need to worry.” With a gentle pat to her arm, I reassured her everything was okay. Lowering myself to the couch, I released a soft groan.

“Can we watch The Hidden Singer now?”

“Can you say hello to Kris?”

“Hello Kris, my name is Celeste Goodwin. I live at 765 Hampden Avenue, apartment 4123.”

“Nice to meet you, Celeste. I’m Kris Kringle.”

Celeste giggled. “No you’re not. There’s only one Kris Kringle.”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that. Your name is your calling card.”

“Sometimes Belen calls me Cici.”

My head was finally clear enough to process the soreness in my back and down my right thigh from my body making impact with the tile floor of the mall. It was after nine and the unexpected incident at the Pavilion Grand threw our whole night off. My sister liked routine, it made her feel comfortable when she knew what to expect each day. I did my best to maintain a schedule she could rely on. Celeste, who was three years younger than me, was born with Down syndrome. When our father passed away, Celeste moved in with me and we’d been taking care of each other ever since.

“Can we make pasta now?”

“Sweetie, I’m sorry. I’m not really feeling up to cooking tonight.” I gave her an apologetic smile. My head was now pounding and I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. All I wanted was to get out of my work clothes and take a hot shower.

“Maybe I could help,” Kris offered. “I’m no Marcus Samuelson, but I know my way around the kitchen.”

“That’s really nice but you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’re tired of being my caregiver.”

“No it’s fine. I was just going to go home to takeout, so a home cooked meal would be great.”

I looked at Celeste for approval.

“As long as I get to help,” she said.

“Of course, I’m gonna need all the help I can get.” Kris removed his coat, tossing it onto a nearby armchair. “We’ll cook and you go get changed. Celeste and I have it covered.”

“Thank you.” Lifting to my toes, I kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

After a quick shower, I pulled on a T-shirt and some sweatpants. I could hear Celeste talking Kris’s ear off while bossing him around. One thing my sister never lacked was confidence, even growing up when she was the only kid in our school with Down syndrome. My parents raised us both to value our worth and the properties within that made us unique and special. Celeste took their teaching to heart. It was as if she lived her life in an impenetrable bubble that consisted of good vibes. Unlike her, it wasn’t so easy for me to let things just roll off my back. I wouldn’t classify myself as a fighter, but I was fiercely protective of my sister and if you step to her wrong, I would make you regret it.

Smoothing my hair, I piled it high into a bouncy ponytail before adding a bit of gloss to my lips. It wasn’t every day a handsome eligible man was in my kitchen cooking dinner. Back in the living room, I assessed the damage, but it appeared Celeste and Kris had everything under control. The aroma of garlic and cheese filled the air, making my mouth water. When was the last time I’d eaten? I vaguely remember scarfing down a bag of trail mix and an oat bar hours ago.

Now that the Christmas event was in full swing, it was time to devote all my attention to Valentine’s Day and my ambitious plans to decorate the mall. I was also hoping to land a really popular kids singing group whose television series was all the rage with the tween set. All this meant balanced meals and sensible work hours often took a back seat.

“How’s it going in there?” I asked, leaning over the counter to check out the progress.

“We’re almost done. Just melting the cheese,” Celeste said. I love that even the littlest things brought her so much joy.

“I’ll set the table.” Grabbing plates and silverware, I laid them out on our small dining table. Kris came over holding glasses, placing one at each place setting. “Thanks again for helping with dinner.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay. You are free to go. Your shift is over Florence Nightingale.” Please don’t go. Please don’t go.

“That’s pretty crappy hospitality. I help cook and then you throw me out.” He clicked his tongue. “Cold world.”

“I don’t want you to go. I’d like you to stay but?—”

“Good, then it’s settled.” His smile caused a very distinct throb of my lady parts.

During dinner, Kris told Celeste all about the interesting goings-on at Pavilion Grand’s Christmas wonderland.

“That sounds like fun,” Celeste said. “Belen never has fun work stories.”

I wrinkled my nose. “That’s because I work in an office. The most exciting thing that happened there was when Chloe’s lunch kept getting swiped and she set up a hidden camera.” Actually, thinking back on it that was pretty exciting. It was like a mini whodunit but with day old meatloaf instead of a corpse.

“Well your sister had a fairly eventful day today. She single-handedly wrangled a runaway deer.”

Celeste looked at me with wide eyes.

“I don’t know about all that. Sounds like the deer walked away the victor.”

“Are you kidding me right now? You were a rock star.”

Kris proceeded to retell the events of the day and while the facts of what transpired were still fuzzy in my mind, I was certain his version was highly embellished. Making me sound like Joan of Arc. Of course, Celeste ate the tall tale up, gawking at me, mouth wide. It was nice of him to make me the hero of the story and not the bumbling idiot. After dinner, Celeste twisted Kris’s arm and convinced him to stay and watch The Hidden Singer . I’m sure he was probably vowing to never help me again, as a person dressed like a bumblebee belted out Anjeni’s “Love All Over Me.”

Now that I’d gotten Celeste’s schedule back on track with the help of Kris, it was time for her to get ready for bed. “Celeste why don’t you take your shower while I walk Kris out?”

To my surprise, Celeste didn’t object. She was probably just as tired as I was. “Bye Kris, see you next week.”

Sucking my lower lip into my mouth, I decided it best not to protest. Kris would not be a fixture at our Thursday night pasta parties. Outside my apartment door, I found myself at a loss for words.

“I really like your sister,” he offered, with that sincere smile of his.

“Most everyone does. If someone doesn’t like her, I take it as a sign to proceed with caution.”

“I imagine it must be hard having to take care of her all on your own.”

I gave a dismissive shrug. “I’ve been doing it my entire life, no big deal.”

“Just because you do something without complaining doesn’t mean it’s always easy.”

He was right, taking care of Celeste wasn’t easy but there was no use in complaining. I knew eventually I would become her primary caregiver. Granted at the time I thought it would be years before that happened, but life was unpredictable. And when our dad passed, the responsibility became solely mine.

“She’s my baby sister, but I’ve looked up to her my entire life. Growing up, she was so funny and she came up with the best spots for hide and seek. I’ve lost count on how many times I’ve heard why can’t you be more like your sister. Less uptight, more trusting. She loves people with her whole heart; she doesn’t let past hurts or loss lessen the amount of love she’s willing to give. She just loves, it’s probably her best and worst quality. Sometimes she trusts the wrong people.” My features grew dark as I was reminded of how cruel some people could be. “But that’s why I’m here to protect her.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

“We have each other,” I corrected him. Celeste was supporting me just as much as I was her. Shifting the conversation, I added, “Kris, thank you for everything. Saving me from Belvidere, carrying me to safety, getting me home in one piece. And then all that with Celeste and dinner. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“No need to thank me. I enjoyed hanging out with you and I’m just happy you’re okay.”

“Because of you.” I rested my hand on his chest, wishing he wasn’t wearing a bulky pea coat.

“How’s your head?”

“Fine, it’s better,” I reassured him.

“So, if I kissed you right now…”

“You’re gonna kiss me?”

“I was thinking about it, yeah.” His hand found its way to my face, and he stroked my lips with his thumb. It took every ounce of my willpower not to open my mouth and allow him to slip his thumb inside. He closed his eyes while his thumb worked across my lips like he was trying to decipher a hidden message.

Every nerve in my body was screaming, Fuck me now . I wonder if he could sense it. My body had a mind of its own, gravitating closer until our bodies met. Kris cupped both sides of my face, leaning in, stopping only to offer a brief smile before his lips touched down onto mine. Inhaling deeply, I did my best to drink him in. His left hand now cradled the base of my neck, his fingers massaging the tendrils of hair that escaped from my ponytail.

Were we actually kissing or had the bump to my head caused side effects of hallucinations of the sexual variety? For the second time today, I was lightheaded. But on this occasion, it was all because of Kris’s touch. He was quite literally taking my breath away. Not a bad way to die if I do say so myself. If we weren’t in the hallway outside my apartment, I would be shedding his clothes so I could run my hands over his bare skin.

Tingles of goosebumps scaled my body as his hand drifted to my waist, finding an exposed swath of flesh. The sensation from his fingers and palm caressing my waist and lower back caused shivers to trip up my spine. I sighed into his mouth, muttering his name. His grip on my waist intensified, becoming more demanding. Was that his dick I felt pressing against me? Maybe all those years of practice kissing in my bedroom when I was a teenager had been worth it. Because I was driving him to semi-erect status just off the strength of my tongue game.

“Belen, it’s time for our face routine,” Celeste called from inside the apartment.

Pulling away, my thoughts were a bit scattered and disoriented. I leaned on the door frame for support, breathless and disheveled.

“Are you alright?” Kris asked. His breathing was also shallow.

“Yeah. I’ve got to go. Thanks for everything.” I scrambled inside before he could utter another word, locking the door behind me.