All He Wants this Christmas_A single-dad Holiday Romance

by Claire Woods

“Um, hello?”

  “Hi, I’m Katia.”

  “Kate.”

  “No. Katia.”

  “Yes, I got that. I-am-Kate.” I answer slowly while pointing to myself.

  “Da.” She giggles.

  I roll my eyes pushing past her. Of course, Tony would hire her.

  “Luca is that you?” I freeze hearing his deep voice. He enters the main room with damp hair and bare feet. My eyes cut to Katia’s wet strands.

  “Where’s Mrs. Tirelli?”

  “Well… hello Kate.” His eyes look me over methodically missing nothing. “Your hair looks good. Fuck—all of you is looking good.”

  “Language.” I shake my head placing Luca’s backpack on the floor, “What happened to Becky?”

  “Who Becky?”

  “No one sweetheart,” he answers with a smack to her butt. More giggles follow as she leans into him.

  “Luca, take your bag up to your room, please. I need a word with your father.”

  “B-but. Mom—”

  “Now, Luca!”

  “Fine.” He mutters picking up his bag. Tony puts his arm out for a fist-bump as Luca walks by that has me seeing red. This little scene has me more worked-up than when I first caught Tony cheating.

  “The study. Now.” I brush past him not even looking in is direction.

  He’s on my heels, “I love it when you’re dominant. It turns me the fuck on. Hell if you kept yourself up like this for me, maybe we’d still be together.”

  I spin around so fast he takes an awkward step back. “I never let myself go. Can’t you just admit to being a shit-head? Do you ever look in the mirror and see who you’ve become?”

  “All the time baby. All the time.”

  “Are you on drugs? Do you take anything seriously anymore? I’m having serious doubts about leaving Luca here, but I don’t want to break his little heart any more than it already is. It will crush him if you fuck-up this weekend. Get rid of her. I don’t know her and I won’t have some barely legal blonde around my son.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, I don’t want Gianni DeLuca hanging around my kid.”

  “He wouldn’t be if you manned the fuck up. Luca’s lost. He needs a father that gives a shit—teaching him hoops, and hockey. What you’re doing? Slacking off, while getting bimbos off? You are hardly acting like the type of man I want influencing my kid.”

  “Are you fucking him?”

  I throw my hands up in the air, “This is impossible. Forget it. I’m taking Luca back with me.”

  “Wait.” He places a soft hand on my arm. “It’s killing me. Knowing he’s touching you, getting inside you—my wife.”

  “Ex-wife. How did you think I felt about Becky?”

  “Becky,” he sighs, raking a hand through his hair, “that’s over.”

  “And Katia’s the new flavor of the month?”

  “She’s a distraction. I miss you, Kate.”

  “Really? Did you miss me when you took her in the shower before I got here?”

  His cheeks turn pink, “You were early.”

  “Actually, I was late. This is stupid. I’m leaving.”

  “Do you still get waxed?” The tip of his index finger brushes the zipper on my jeans so lightly it’s as if it never happened.

  I jerk back, slapping his hand away.

  “Come on! My baby came out of there. Relax already.”

  Tony’s never been violent. I’m not afraid. But he can’t touch me like this anymore.

  “You have no right to touch me. Don’t ever do it again.”

  “But he’s touching you?”

  “Grow up. You’re acting immature, and it’s not attractive. What did you think would happen when we split?”

  “I never thought about it… never pictured you with another man, but the thought of you and my high school nemesis fucking in our house—is driving me insane.”

  My smile is sweet as sugar as pat him on the arm, “Luca needs to be in bed by nine. Go easy on the junk food and call me if he comes down with anything. Tell Katia you’re busy until Monday. Luca—will rat you out if you don’t. I have a date to get ready for.”

  He moves to take my hand but catches himself, “I’m sorry.”

  I freeze. He’s never said those two words to me.

  “Are you?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  I nod my head but keep walking. Tony doesn’t need to know how far I’ve gone with Gianni. Let him burn, thinking I’m doing naughty things. Because the thing is—I probably will be, soon. Maybe even tonight.

  I can hardly wait.

  MY BED SMELLS OF FRESHLY laundered sheets. I hung fresh towels on the bathroom racks. My house is spotless. I even placed a few fire logs in the fireplace and hung garland on the mantel. I want tonight to be romantic for her. My eyes survey my bedroom one last time before I leave to pick up Kate. It’s not enough. Maybe I’ll put up a Christmas tree in here and add more candles.

  I’ve had a boner all day while prepping my room; imagining taking her here—in a few short hours.

  But I’m not just going to rip her clothes off and mount her. I’m going to seduce her like a sheik seduces a virgin in his harem. Until she’s trembling and spreading her legs wide for my invasion. Her nipples will harden to diamonds. Her body will be a slave to my lips and tongue. I’m going to thrust in her slowly, masterfully, until my tip hits her womb—spraying it full of my seed.

  What the fuck?

  Where did that thought come from?

  It’s probably because she’s such a devoted mother. She’s the kind of woman a man wants to make a baby with.

  I shake my head, tucking my dick to the side of my boxer briefs, wanting to save all my stamina for later and resist the urge to rub one out now.

  I reach inside the shopping bag pulling out vanilla scented candles and place a few on my dresser, smirking when I notice what else I put inside. I had stopped at the pharmacy to pick up two boxes of condoms.

  I stash one box in my nightstand and rip open the other, grabbing five and placing them into the back pocket of my jeans.

  We might not even make it to the bedroom the first time.

  I remember how we matched up when I hoisted her onto the kitchen counter. I grunt knowing I’ll need to take her there.

  With a satisfied smile, I walk downstairs and double check that I put the bottle of champagne, I bought in the fridge.

  Taking two flutes out of the cabinet, I place them on the counter almost knocking them over at the sound of the doorbell.

  With a frown, I march across the room, ready to gruffly tell whoever’s there to buzz the hell off. I’m not in the mood for solicitors when I’m dying to pick up my girl.

  “Tiff? Tommy?”

  She stands with one hand on his shoulder while he stares up at me with wide eyes full of hope. “What’s going on?”

  “My co-worker’s son got sick, and she gave me three non-refundable tickets to the Polar Express train in Port Chester. Tommy was hoping you could come. I was going to call first, but it all happened last minute. We need to get there soon.”

  My hand finds the foil packets in the back pocket of my jeans.

  So close.

  I sigh, scrubbing a hand across my face passing Tiff the keys to my truck, “Wait in the cab. I need five minutes.”

  I shut the door and take out my phone. My heart feels like lead; hating the position, I’m in.

  The wait-list for those tickets are two years because rich assholes pay up to fifteen grand to reserve a whole train car.

  But The Polar Express is Tommy’s favorite holiday movie. And to him—everything about Christmas is real. Even an older commuter train that functions as a tourist attraction decked out with garland and a fake Santa.

  “Gianni? I’m just putting my coat on.”

  I close my eyes and drop my head in my hands, “Kate.”

  “What? What is it? Is Tommy okay…?

  “Yeah, but Tiff just showed up with three tickets to the Polar E
xpress. It’s been sold-out the past few years... I couldn’t say no. Not when it was obvious how badly he wanted me to go.”

  “I understand. Those tickets are harder to get than when the Yankees and Red Sox play in the World Series.”

  “I’ll make this up to you. Let me take you to brunch tomorrow?”

  “I can’t. I’m doing all my Christmas shopping before Luca gets back from Tony’s.”

  She’s blowing me off. I just know it.

  “Don’t do this.”

  “Do what? We’re both divorced, with kids. Together we probably have more baggage than a Jet Blue flight to Cabo. Maybe it’s better we don’t start something.”

  “Are you breaking up with me before our second date?”

  “I have too much going on right now with work… Luca and now Tony.”

  “Tony? What did that prick do now? You want me to straighten him out again?”

  “It’s my business. I’ll handle him. Thanks for everything, Gianni.”

  I can’t believe she’s actually giving me the cut and run. “Fine. I’ll see you at the Christmas bazaar next weekend. Good night.”

  I yank my coat on and set the house alarm. My angry breath huffing out puffs of white steam as it hits cold air. I eye the Christmas lights decorating the homes all around, then glance up to the sky.

  The North Star twinkles alone.

  I stare at it for a moment wondering how many people send their wishes up to the same sky—to the same star hoping it answers.

  I tear my eyes away meeting Tommy’s. His face is pressed up against the back window, and he’s waving.

  In this moment, I know God has already gifted me with everything I deserve. With hands tucked into my coat, boots crushing the ice under my feet, I stuff my hopes and dreams down making room for my boy’s.

  I yank the door of the truck open and climb in. The smell of Tiff’s perfume fills the cab. Her lips slick with a coat of fresh gloss. I stare at her wishing another woman was in her seat, and another kid was in the back. But I’m all out of Christmas wishes, and maybe God’s done granting me more.

  Tiff’s hand rests on my thigh, and I fling it off me for the third time. I grit my teeth, smiling for Tommy’s sake. Her body’s plastered to my side, and I’m forced to bear it since the coach tickets she got are actually bench seats.

  “Loosen up Gianni,” she whispers nipping my ear. This time her hand cups me unexpectedly causing me to jump.

  “Knock it off Tiff. What the hell’s gotten into you?”

  “I miss you, baby.”

  “Ha. Yeah, sure you do.”

  Her hand tries to stroke me again, but I grab her wrist. “We’re on a Christmas train. With kids dressed in pajamas looking for Santa. Christ, Tiff—this is a stretch… even for you.”

  “Does she make you as hard as I did?”

  I sigh letting my head fall back. “So that’s what this is about.”

  “Tommy told me how she and her son are always over. I heard a rumor, but I didn’t want to believe it.”

  “Why? Do you think I still want you?”

  “The sex was always hot between us.”

  “That’s because it’s all we had in common.”

  “So?”

  “It wasn’t enough for me. We’ve been through all this. Move on. I have.”

  She sits back pouting her plump lips. Tommy is oblivious to the tension. At least he’s having the best Friday night of his life. I glance at my watch realizing if Tiff hadn’t derailed my plans—I’d probably be paying the bill right now and taking Kate back to my house.

  “This could be real.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You, me, and Tommy. We could be a family again.”

  My fingers clench the seat. I know if I lifted, the bolts would rip right off the floor. “What the fuck?” I hiss. “I tried for years to get you to do shit like this. It’s too late.”

  “I want you back. I know I fucked up. I was young, I wasn’t ready… I made a shit-ton of mistakes Gianni. But I love Tommy, and I love you. You were so good to me, and I didn’t even realize. You always filled my car up with gas, you de-iced my windshield every morning, you cooked and cleaned. Did things to me in bed I only see in the movies… you were the perfect man and I let you slip through my fingers.”

  I’m stunned. Tiff’s never said anything like this before.

  “You were my wife. Of course, I took care of you.”

  “I quit hairdressing. I’m going back to school and getting a teaching degree. I’ve decided to teach elementary school art. That’s why I couldn’t take Tommy these past few weekends. I had to take my entrance exams and fill out a bunch of paperwork—I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to make you and Tommy proud.”

  “Ah, Tiff. That’s great, and I am proud of you. But I don’t see us going back. This train is moving forward.”

  “Please.”

  She whispers with tears shimmering in her eyes. “All I want for Christmas is to be a family again.”

  “That’s what I want too,” Tommy chirps up.

  Fuck. I’d do anything for him.

  Anything—but get back into a loveless marriage. Especially when Kate’s made me feel things in the past week that Tiff never did, despite being together for years. Before I can respond, Santa and his elves make their way to our car. Tiff goes crazy snapping pics of us singing carols and eating cookies.

  From the smiles on all our faces you’d think we are still a family, just hanging out on the way to the North Pole.

  My heart’s breaking for Tommy. We might look like a happy family, but all we’re doing tonight is pretend playing.

  At least I am.

  I thought I was doing good, but maybe I’ve been fooling myself for thinking Tommy’s adjusted to life being shuffled between the homes of two parents.

  I plaster a grin on my face, determined not to let it show getting back with Tiff is something that’s never going to happen.

  I’M A GLUTTON FOR PUNISHMENT. While a Lifetime movie plays in the background, I’m downing wine like its vodka staring at the pictures Tiff’s been posting all over Instagram and Facebook. They’re all smiling and laughing like a happy family, while I sit here feeling like a home-wrecker.

  Sure, I know they’re divorced, but here I am pining for him like the other woman. Hoping for a text that might lead to a quickie, before he sneaks back home.

  I raise my glass to my lips just as my cell rings.

  “Hey, Jen.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “How did you know that I’m sitting here alone?”

  “Because it might be my fault.”

  “What?” I sit up confused and place my wine down on the table.

  “One of the girls who works for me is friends with Tiff. They used to work together at the same salon in Franklin Lakes. She overheard us gushing about your date with Gianni… and told her.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “You know how gossip spreads in a salon. Nothing stay’s a secret. I heard Tiff wants him back.”

  My eyes flicker over to the laptop where I still have her profile pulled up. She just updated her damn cover photo, and she’s beaming at Gianni who’s holding Tommy on his lap while Santa stands behind.

  She’s still in love with him. It’s in her eyes and written all over her face—it’s in the way she leans against him.

  I’ve had enough heartache these past few years—I can’t take anymore. I believe Gianni when he told me he never loved her, but I don’t doubt he’d move the moon for his son. The only question is: Do I want to be in the way?

  Forcing myself to look away from the computer screen, I can’t escape my lonely house. It’s strange. All I wanted was a little free time back. But now that I’m facing down hours with no one to fill them with; everything feels empty. Even the room I’m sitting in is as barren as winter in the Russian tundra.

  Cream walls are only marred by the specks of nail holes. When Tony moved out, I told hi
m to take his over-priced crappy art with him. But I never bothered to find something else to put up in their place. I let him take the piano that used to sit in the corner, our expensive lamps and rug. It hits me—I never bothered to make this house a home. There’s no way Luca doesn’t feel it.

  It’s time to dust myself off again, grit my teeth and plow through the stone walls that keep cropping up.

  I flip open a notebook and to do something I haven’t done in years: make a Christmas list.

  Kate’s Christmas List

  1. Have sex with Gianni.

  2. Have more sex with Gianni

  3. Kick Tony’s ass

  4. Find a new job

  5. Sell this house

  6. Donate Tony’s spare golf clubs to charity.

  My eyes glance around the room one more time. Luca’s going to flip when he comes home. I’m going to take my credit card to Walmart tomorrow and deck these halls. It’s going to look like an elf lives here by the time I’m done. But first, I’m going to work on wish number six.

  Waltzing to the garage, I open the door flipping the switch while humming “Santa Baby.” Tony’s custom-made spare golf clubs sit in a corner. I open the back of my SUV, lug it over and dump it in, slamming the hatch door in satisfaction.

  I make my way back through the house and up to the attic. We must have some Christmas boxes here somewhere from previous years. My fingers pull the chain turning on the light. Its dull glow barely making a dent in the darkness. My eyes squint as I try to read my script penned in permanent marker on the scattered boxes.

  I grab the nearest and stick my hand inside, instantly realizing it was a mistake to come up here as my fingers pull out Luca’s first baby blanket. It still smells of diaper cream and baby powder. I saved everything; knowing I’d be ready for more children soon. I just needed to adjust to motherhood and find some balance.

  My hands shake as I carefully fold it back up, but they tremble when my eyes fall to the large canvas frame leaning in a corner. Our first family Christmas. Luca was six months old and gripped Tony’s pinky in his fist. My hand was lovingly on Tony’s arm and the other behind my precious baby’s head. Tony was staring down at Luca as if he was his whole world, while I stared at them both with a heart bursting with love.