Tuesday, December 17th
The image of her perched on my lap has been etched into my mind, a vivid, thrilling loop that plays incessantly. Each time I revisit that moment, my heart races a bit more, a mix of excitement and a daring thrill. It was a bold move, donning that Santa suit and stepping out of my comfort zone, but the way her eyes lit up, the spark in her smile—it was worth every jitter of nervousness, every second of apprehension.
Santa: Hey, it’s a slow Tuesday night at High Five. Why not come by for a drink? It’s got a bit of that naughty and nice vibe. Plus, I’ve heard they have a Santa who’s quite the charmer. ??
Emily: I can’t break away right now, Santa. Sorry! I do want to see you again, I promise.
Her reply is as disappointing as finding coal in my stocking. I hope that in this season of giving and endless possibilities, we find a time to meet.
Santa: Totally understand. Can I send any elves to help you out?
Emily: That would be magical! But everything left on my list … I have to do.
Now, every playful text, every offer of help, is like sending a Christmas card filled with hope and cheer, eager for the moment we can finally meet.