Page 37 of Playing Santa

Jimmy would be thrilled, but I hide them from him.

“What is it, Mommy?”

“It’s … tickets to a game,” I say. I can’t lie. How do I feel about season tickets? Next Season? That smacks of a future. I’m so mixed and confused. But one thing is certain, I can’t withhold Sean’s gift from Jimmy. If I put Jimmy first, I can’t deny him the opportunity to go to the games next season. Can’t deny him the opportunity to have Sean as a mentor, no matter what happens between Sean and I. No matter if nothing happens between us.

Anything could happen between now and next season, good or bad, but if I hold back Sean’s gift, I can see only bad things happening.

I give him the tickets with the new Boston Militia sweat shirt in his size, not too big and not too small.

“Can I wear it now?” I nod and watch him rip the gorgeous quality official NFL gear from the box and put it on over his pajamas.

“This is the best gift, Mommy.” He throws his arms around me and I hug him back.

“It’s not from me,” I say quietly. “But I’ll take a hug any time from you.”

“I know it’s from Sean. But it’s from you too.”

“How do you figure that?” I laugh, amused at how his little kid brain works and curious.

“Because he really likes you. I think he wants you to like him so he’s being really nice to me. Remember that other guy—”

“I know what you mean.” I cut him off. I’m not sure what other guy he’s going to bring up because there was more than one guy from the rooming house who tried using Jimmy to get me to warm up to him. None of them comparable to Sean Patrick in anyway. They weren’t genuine the way he is. Sean never planned on meeting Jimmy or me. It was all so spontaneous.

“Don’t you think Sean likes you for you, honey?”

“Sure. But not as much as he likes you. Garino thinks so too. I asked her. Don’t you like him back, Mommy?”

My smile is automatic. “Sure I do. What makes you think I don’t?”

He shrugs and some of the bright Christmas morning cheer goes out of him. It’s the last thing I want to see.

“Tell me honey.” I lift him onto my lap as I sit on the couch. He’s getting big, but I still love cuddling with him this way while I can.

“He was mad. You didn’t want to talk to him.” He looks down. “Did he do something bad?”

I lift his chin to look into those innocent eyes hoping like hell that his perceptive child’s mind hasn’t picked up on my paranoia, my fearful outlook on the world, but I wonder.

“No, he didn’t do anything bad.” The opposite. He’s been too good. But how do I explain that to a child. He wouldn’t understand. He’d think I was silly.

Maybe he’d be right.

His face brightens instantly, as if Santa himself appeared in the room. My mood brightens too, so wedded to his welfare.

“Yay! Does that mean we can go over to his house for Christmas dinner?” He looks at me with hope and joy and I feel like a Grinch instantly with the word no automatically poised on the tip of my tongue. Instead I hold my tongue.

Why am I assuming the worst will happen? Why shouldn’t I trust Sean who’s given me no reason to distrust him? Because it’s happened before? And what kind of people were those? I should be smart enough and mature enough and experienced enough to distinguish the good from the bad. Sean isn’t perfect, but I shouldn’t judge him based on my experience with the likes of my uncle the degenerate gambler and my so-called husband, the transient who wanted to use me to get a visa. And for sex. Bad sex compared to Sean. No heart in it compared to Sean.

Heat spreads from my core as I think about sex with Sean. It’s like taking a trip to heaven, sending ripples of pleasure through me now just on a remembrance.

Jimmy tugs on me. “Well Mommy? Can we? Pretty please?”

“Why do you want to go to his house for Christmas dinner, Jimmy?” Maybe I want him to talk me into it. Maybe I need to listen to the wisdom of an innocent child.

“Because I like him,” he scoffs, sounding like he thinks I’m being silly. “Besides I want to see Dasher. And I like his house. He has cool stuff.”

“You shouldn’t like people for their stuff, Jimmy.” This is what I don’t like. I don’t want Jimmy being seduced by material things.

“What do you mean, Mommy? I like Sean because he’s fun. He’s nice to me. He likes me too. And Dasher.”