by Annie Adams
The surprise wedding had set me back for time, but I was grateful for the unexpected business. Since I was running late, I worried I wouldn’t be able to find a parking place at the news studio. I decided to change into my costume there at the shop. They would touch up my hair and makeup at the studio.
I pulled on the green tights and the Jolly Green Giant’s “Ho-Ho-Ho’s” crossed my mind. I slipped on the cuffs made especially to cover shoes and look like elf boots, complete with pointy curled toes. The jacket fit perfectly, for once my slender teenage boy physique felt like a bonus.
“You look so cute!” Daphne said as I left the bathroom.
“Tell Mom thanks again, Allie. She’s a pro at this kind of stuff. I don’t remember Robin Hood having a scoop-neck collar though.”
“That was her alteration. I was her dressing dummy last night.”
“I owe you both.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m so late, I’ve got to go.” I grabbed my bag and the keys to Zombie Sue.
“Don’t forget the belt!” Allie ran out to the back parking lot and met me with a black belt with a huge buckle. “Have fun!”
Fun was not the word I would have used.
I started Zombie Sue and drove to Salt Lake. About ten minutes into the trip I realized I’d left my clothes on the bathroom floor at the shop. I would have to pick them up on the way to K.C.’s house.
The people at the news studio were very nice and exuded energy. They rushed me into makeup and hair. The woman with the powder puff tsked when I sat and told me it would take a lot more than powder. So I didn’t wear heavy TV makeup every day. Was that a crime?
The young, probably just out of college, producer skittered up to me. “Santa’s coming too, right?” she said, her words shooting out like rapid fire.
“He should be here any minute,” I said.
A peal of sleigh bells rang from behind the saloon style doors leading to the makeup room. Just as in an old western movie, a set of legs appeared beneath the swinging doors. They were covered in red pants and ended with big black boots. Above the swinging doors was a red Santa hat, complete with white fur, sitting atop an abundance of perfect silvery-white curls.
“Ho, ho, ho!” sounded through the slats of the door and I couldn’t contain my bewilderment as I recognized the voice. It wasn’t Fred’s. The doors swung open and Santa stepped into the room. Santa, who wore his...hot pink…cat-eye framed…reading glasses on a chain around “his” neck.
“K.C.” I muttered in a murderous whisper. She came toward me, shaking her sleigh bells. I discreetly pointed to my chest then hers. “Oh,” registered on her face and she took her glasses off and handed them to me.
“Oh good, Santa’s here,” the producer said. “He doesn’t need much touch up, does he Gayle?” She asked the woman who’d wielded her painful colored pencil along the rims of my eyes.
Gayle told Santa to close his eyes. She puffed K.C. in the face once or twice with powder and said, “He’s good to go.”
Santa winked at me just before being led to the studio.
“Here, Sweetie,” Gayle said as she shoved a box of tissues at my chest, “you’re gonna have to help me, we’re out of time.”
“Help you with what?” I asked.
She sighed in exasperation at the stupid elf before her, tugged my shirt front down and commanded, “Start stuffing.”
There were a couple of reasons the interview actually turned out okay. First, K.C. had a very deep alto voice, and quite amazingly she could probably sing tenor for the MoTabs with no problem if she wanted to. She didn’t do a whole lot of the talking either. Lots of “ho-ho-hos” and sleigh bell ringing.
Part two of what kept me from flinging myself off the causeway into the Great Salt Lake, was that I’d been rendered unrecognizable with the two extra pounds of makeup on my face and the contents of two boxes of tissues riding in my bra. I managed to answer questions and pretend to have witty banter with the sickly sweet and zippy co-hosts of the show. They seemed to feel as if everything was a success. I just hoped my fellow committee members felt the same way when it aired the next day.
I didn’t bother asking K.C. why she’d shown up and not Fred. I was pretty sure she’d never asked him. And just as well, we had an entertaining Santa who knew all the details of the town event because she worked at my shop.
We stood in the parking lot next to my van. K.C. clapped her hands together. She looked down at her hands strangely after the expected sound didn’t come out of her clap. She’d forgotten she was wearing white gloves. And good thing she’d worn those gloves. She’d had her nails painted in red glitter with white snowflake appliqués. A little out there for most traditional Santas. “Are you ready?” she said.
“For what?”
“Our stakeout! Don’t tell me you forgot!”
“I guess I did. That interview was all I could think about today.”
“Well it’s time! We’re going to be late as it is. Drive over to my place and we’ll leave the van there. You’ll hop into this car and we’ll head on over to your place.” She’d driven Fred's car, an unassuming, practical, four-door car, which was the polar opposite of K.C.'s electric blue thunder convertible.
“I’ve got to stop at the shop first. I forgot all my clothes.”
“There’s no time! Besides, it’s like we’re in disguise. Your Secret Santa won’t know it’s us. We’re incognito.”
I blinked at her in disbelief. “Right. Because Santa and his whore-elf can be found walking around my neighborhood every day.”
“Oh…shush! We’ve got to go. Git!” She waved me toward Zombie Sue then got in Fred’s car and we left.
K.C. still wore her Santa beard and hair as she us drove to my house. She remained in character as she spoke to me too.
“Remind me why I agreed to do this again?” I said.
“Were solving a crime,” Santa said.
“What crime? There’s been no crime.”
“Ho, ho, ho, well it is a mystery. Santa thinks somebody peed in a certain elf’s eggnog.”
“Somebody thinks Santa needs to return to the North Pole.”
“Sorry,” K.C. said, her Santa balloon deflated.
I sighed, disgusted with myself. The pressure from the open house, the shop, and the worry over Alex’s parents, was getting to me. I’d been feeling extra grouchy lately and taking it out on the people closest to me. “No, K.C. I should be the one to apologize. I haven’t been very cheerful lately. I guess it’s the stress.”
“Oh, kiddo. You’ve got a lot of irons in the fire right now. I understand. What you need is a good old fashioned stake-out. And you’re in luck, because here we are.”
She’d parked several houses down from mine. “This place is perfect,” she said. “We’ll leave the car here and then we can step into that group of pine trees across the street and peek through the bushes.”
I sighed internally. This was such a bad idea. “Why don’t we just go inside and wait?”
“We won’t be able to see them in action without them knowing we’re watching out the window. And what if they come from the west side? We wouldn’t be able to see them from your window then.” She was right about that.
“We could just stay here in the car,” I said.
“We’re completely exposed out here on the side of the street. Besides, where’s your sense of adventure? C’mon!” She was out of the car and halfway to the neighbors pine grove before I could speak another logical word. And who was I to try and insert logic or reason into the plan at this point? I followed as she tiptoed over to the trees, as if there were any way to be stealthy in a bright red Santa suit with clompy boots.
“I bet your Secret Santa is that neighbor boy you’ve told me about,” she said.
“Who?”
“The one that came to dinner with your family.”
“You mean Ned?” My flesh crawled and it wasn’t just due to the cold air making it through the fabric of my elf costume. “Be
tter not tell Elma if it is him. They’re an item now.”
“Well good for them. I still won’t put it past him until we prove that it’s not him.”
The sound of car wheels crunching against the asphalt came up behind us then passed.
“Maybe that’s him,” I said. The car slowed at the stop sign on the corner, but turned left instead of right. “Never mind.” We stooped in silence for a few moments. “K.C., I was thinking last night as I was driving home, and I’ve changed my mind. I’m pretty sure it’s Alex leaving those gifts for me.”
“Poppycock.”
Poppycock? I mouthed to myself.
I explained to her how I thought Alex had ingeniously tricked me into receiving extra Christmas gifts. Another car sounded in the distance. I shivered, wishing I’d had time to grab my clothes or a coat. “It’s freezing out here. I might as well not be wearing anything as much warmth as this costume provides.”
“Shhh, someone’s coming,” K.C. said.
“Where? I can’t see.”
“Not sure. I heard a car though.”
“Ladies,” said a male voice behind us. We both shrieked and spun around.
“Why, Officer Fullerton,” K.C. said through her Santa beard, “what are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” He looked at K.C., not registering any kind of recognition. Then he looked at me with a puzzled expression. “Quincy?”
“Hey, Chad, what’s going on?” I felt the blush rising from my sternum all the way to my scalp. It contrasted sharply with the goosebumps on my skin. Chad Fullerton, the former high school football captain and crush of every female student in the county, now one of Hillside’s finest, had pulled K.C. over a few months back. She and I had been driving away from what we thought might be someone shooting at us and we might not have been wearing anything but our underwear at the time. And not my good underwear, I might add.
Still wearing the strange expression, he looked over at Santa. “Are you…”
“Yep, it’s me.” K.C. pulled down the beard and grinned at Chad. “Still wearing red, but a little less revealing than the last time, eh?” She laughed at her own joke, Chad turned a shade to match K.C.’s outfit.
“What are you two doing out here?” He looked in my direction, but never met my gaze.
A car pulled up behind Chad’s police cruiser. It was the Cooper’s rental car.
“What’s going on Chad?” I asked.
He looked pointedly at K.C. “We got a call that a suspicious Santa was creeping around with an elf. There’s been some vandalism around here by a guy in a Santa suit, and a watchful citizen called us.”
“Oh, do you mean that guy on the news?” K.C. asked. She sucked in her breath, “Do you think that’s whose been leaving those gifts on Quincy’s porch?”
“He’s talking about us, Santa.” I knew this had been a stupid idea and now the neighbors were watching me being questioned by the police. “Did you call Alex, Chad?” I gave him the glare of guilt.
“No,” he said defensively, “I swear. I just came to check out a report of prowlers.”
“Well I’m not prowling, that’s my house.” I turned and gestured toward my house, which made my giant plastic elf ears bounce. My other hand seemed to land on my hip automatically. Something felt funny with my elf shirt.
“Hey Fullerton,” Alex said as he approached. Much to my horror Alex’s parents got out of the car and followed him to where we were standing. “What’s going on…Quincy what the hell?”
Alex’s stunned gaze fell to my chest. I looked down and realized I was truly going to die of mortification. My elf jacket splayed completely open from the collar all the way down to the belt. It must have caught on the shrubs as I turned to see Chad and pulled the Velcro fastener open.
“Oh, Boss, that’s just sad.” K.C. reached over and lifted a tissue that had gone rogue and found its way to the top of the fur collar I was desperately clasping shut. I swatted her hand away with my free hand. “She’s been under a lot of stress lately,” she said sympathetically and patted Chad’s arm. Then she elbowed him in the ribs. “A lot higher quality undies than the first time you saw her like this, though. Am I right?”
She had a point. After the last time, I’d purchased all new under things, even though I never imagined it would happen again. With anyone. And especially not with the policeman who saw me half-naked the first time.
“There was a first time for…this?” Alex’s mother said in disgust.
“I’m…gonna…leave you to it…then, Cooper,” he said. He maneuvered out of our little circle and practically ran his escape to his squad car.
“Well, isn’t this a fun reunion?” K.C. said.
“So. Funny story…” I paused as my trembling hands threatened to slip off my faux fur collar. “It’s Velcro. I mean…hh…who would make a shirt…with Velcro down the front? Right?” I hiccupped a little laugh.
“There’s always a story isn’t there?” Eleanor said.
Her words were as icy as the December wind that had recently passed over my bare stomach.
I looked at her for just a moment and made the mistake of blinking. That’s what opened the faucet of tears, made cold by the breeze as they carved little stream beds through the layers of makeup on my face.
“How’s about we all go inside?” I heard K.C. say. “Wind’s picking up out here.” She led the Cooper’s down the sidewalk. Alex tugged my arm, holding me back from the group.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You must be so embarrassed.”
“I am.”
My bottom lip began to quiver, I couldn’t make it stop.
“My mom has turned into this…I don’t even know how to describe her. She’s the one who should be apologizing.” He pulled me into his side and we walked together.
“How could you not be embarrassed by me? I am,” I said.
“You’re you. I’m learning.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, if it wasn’t you, and I came to show my parents my girlfriend’s house and found her nearby, being questioned by a former colleague, with her top hanging open, made up like a…” he paused, searching for the right words, “…a lady-elf of the evening, I might have cause for concern.” He looked down at me and I couldn’t help but smile. “But with you, it’s all part of a regular day.” He squeezed me tighter. “I’d be worried if weird stuff didn’t happen.”
“Gee thanks,” I said, resigning myself to the fact that he was right. I heaved a huge sigh. “There really is an explanation for all of this. I’m anxious to give it, but not with your parents around.”
“Well, that’s going to be difficult—but just for a few more days.”
The others had gone inside. K.C. knew where I had a key hidden. As we reached the front porch I noticed there was nothing from Secret Santa to collect.
“Oh, good,” I said.
“Wow, you hate my mom that much, huh?”
“No, Alex!” I looked inside to make sure she wasn’t standing next to the door. “I don’t hate your mom,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry I’ve made you think that. I’m just relieved because there’s nothing on the porch.”
“I’m not following,” he said.
“K.C. and I were hiding in the neighbors’ bushes to see if my Secret Santa was going to strike again. And here you are, right on time. Look, I appreciate all the gifts you’ve been leaving. You really got me. For a while I thought it wasn’t you. But you’re good that way.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
“See? You’re doing it again. You are so good, but really, with your parents here and all, I don’t know how you’re finding the time. So, gotcha. You don’t have to bring me anything else, sweetie. Okay?”
“Quincy, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I am good though. At a lot of things. One of them might involve that costume you’re wearing once they’re gone.” He nodded toward the house, “But lose the t
issues okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll tell you about those later, but really about the Secret Santa stuff…”
“It’s not me.”
“Well who’s been leaving me candy and perfume and jewelry?”
His eyes widened and he did the one eyebrow lift again. “Someone’s leaving you presents like that? Whoever it is, I’ll kill him.”
The wind gusted and I turned in toward the house to avoid the cold blast. “Let’s go in, I’m freezing.” And I’m a half-dressed green beanstalk.
We moved into the foyer. Alex took a coat off the nearby coatrack. “Here, put this on, you’re turning blue. It’s your husband isn’t it?”
“I called. It’s not him. Besides, no one showed up today, so it’s done.”
“That doesn’t make it okay, Quincy. What if it’s some weirdo? Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“Well, actually I did ask you about the chocolates the first time. You didn’t seem too concerned when you were gobbling them up.”
“Those were…you didn’t ask me about anything. I can’t believe those were psycho-chocolates.” I gave him a wilting look.
“I asked if they were from my Secret Santa and you replied coyly, so I figured it was you trying to keep your cover.”
“I’ve never been coy—what does that even mean? This isn’t something to laugh about, Quincy. You should have told me.”
His voice was angry now.
“I was trying to make your life easier, with all the extra stuff you’ve got going on,” I told him.
At that, Eleanor Cooper appeared. She placed her hand on her son’s forearm, looking up at him, her face laden with motherly concern. She turned her dramatic expression to me, where it morphed into motherly anger.
“Quincy, I’ve got some questions that need answering. I can’t stand by any longer while you lie to my son. Obviously something truly disturbing is going on. You’re still married, I catch you…carrying on with a man at the department store of all places, thinking I’m some idiot that can’t see what’s happening. And now look at you, made up like a ten dollar…hooker—”