Summer Santa

by Ward Maia

  “And what about the country? Are you acclimating well?” Ana smiled as her husband swam and played with their kids.

  “Yeah, the people here are very nice. And they love to hug.”

  “Oh, look. I think she’s trying for husband number three.” Ana pointed and Sam groaned when his gaze landed on Aunt Millie, laughing with the bartender and flipping her hair back. Sam shook his head.

  He eventually smiled and chuckled. Because his family was there. Even if his aunt was trying to seduce the unsuspecting hotel staff and his father was probably spending far too much money on souvenirs. They were there. And he wouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone.

  THE NEXT day was Christmas Eve. Sam let his family talk him into going to the beach, even though he feared his pasty complexion—born from spending too many hours in the office with his nose pressed against the computer screen—wouldn’t survive the baking sun. He might actually burst into flames. Like a vampire from some cheesy movie.

  Sam walked clumsily on the sand, holding his arms out to keep from falling on his face. It was maybe a little ridiculous, but beaches weren’t really his thing.

  Not that he hated them. He just wasn’t used to the whole sand and salty water scene.

  “You can hold my hand.” His youngest nephew, Edward, walked up next to him and offered his assistance.

  “Thank you, Cookie.” Sam smiled down at the youngest member of the Evans clan.

  The boy giggled and started to all but pull him along, doing nothing to help Sam keep his balance.

  Sam let go of his nephew’s hand as they reached the water and Edward surged forward to join his brothers and father. They jumped and hooted at the waves, splashing each other and anyone else foolish enough to get close to them.

  “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?” a deep quiet voice said next to him.

  Sam turned and smiled at his father. “What is?”

  “The ocean. It’s been here for so long. Endured so much.” His father paused for a minute, scanning the horizon. “And now they get to enjoy it.”

  He jutted his chin toward where the boys were playing, and Sam followed his gaze just in time to see Edward climb onto his father’s shoulders and jump into the water, making a huge splash.

  Sam and his father both chuckled.

  “Hi, Dad.” Sam turned around and gave his father a tight hug.

  His father just grunted and hugged him back. His arms had thinned a bit as he got older. His hair had faded from the vivid black into a soft gray. And the lines around his eyes were well-worn testaments to all the wonderful things that had made him happy.

  But the quiet strength that had always emanated from him was still there. The same strength that had held Sam up when he’d been picked on at school for being overweight and gay. The same strength that had cared for his mother when her diabetes got out of hand.

  “Grandpa, Grandpa, Grandpa! Look!” His eldest nephew, Arthur, ran up to them, waving a seashell in their faces and wiping the salt water furiously from his eyes.

  “That’s perfect,” his father said. “Where did you find it? Can you show me?”

  Off they went, in search of the hidden treasures only eight-year-olds really care enough about to keep.

  Sam helped his sister and mother set the chairs and an umbrella while they chatted idly about nothing in particular.

  “The real question is, when are we going to have another white wedding?” Aunt Millie tilted her head down and looked pointedly at Sam.

  “You’ll have to wait for the next generation to grow up.” Sam pointed at his nephews giggling and spraying water at each other. “No white wedding for me. At least not in the foreseeable future.”

  “It doesn’t have to be white. I have no illusions about the status of your virginity,” Aunt Millie said.

  His mother chuckled.

  “Mom!” Sam balked.

  “Oh, she doesn’t mean anything by it. Besides, I want more nephews, so maybe you should get on that.”

  “Why don’t you just ask the baby factory over here for another one?” Sam tilted his head at his sister.

  “Hey, I have fulfilled my duty in securing the next generation of the Evans Clan.” Ana raised her chin proudly and winked at Sam. “It’s your turn, mister.”

  “True. Now come on.” Aunt Millie clapped her hands impatiently at Sam. “Take off that shirt and show these fine Brazilian men what they are missing.”

  Sam blushed and shook his head. His shyness and low self-esteem were something the women in his family had done their best to dispel. He’d come a long way from the stuttering, awkward teenager who could barely look at a cute guy without tripping over his own feet, but he was still self-conscious and awkward. Sometimes painfully so.

  “Aren’t you glad we crashed your vacation?” Ana sipped a fruity drink. He had no idea where she’d gotten it.

  “I’m not on vacation,” he reminded her, chuckling.

  She waved one hand dismissively and sighed happily, tilting her head back and closing her eyes, soaking up the morning sun.

  Sam forced his mind away from his insecurities and decided to enjoy the beach with his family.

  “I, for one, am glad. I’m particularly fond of the view.” Aunt Millie pulled her sunglasses down and stared at something over Sam’s shoulder.

  Sam turned, expecting to find maybe one or two handsome men walking by. His aunt had great taste in men. His sister teased him mercilessly because it usually aligned so well with his.

  And sure enough, there was a handsome shirtless man on the beach. It just took Sam’s brain a few seconds to realize it was a familiar handsome shirtless man.

  He gaped as James—his coworker—strolled on the beach. The wind ruffled his hair in a way that made him look sexy instead of unkempt, like Sam usually did when he was assaulted by stray gusts of wind.

  As he watched, James scanned the area, as if searching for someone. Well, of course he was with someone. The odds that James would just magically appear on the same beach as Sam were ridiculous and completely unfounded.

  Sam was about to turn, trying to decide if sliding down the chair to stay away from view was maybe a bit immature, when James’s focus passed over where he sat with his sister and aunt, and then he did a double take.

  His face split into a huge grin and he started to walk toward them.

  Sam turned away from the approaching man and hid, deciding he didn’t care if he looked a little childish.

  “Do we know him?” Aunt Millie asked, a slow smirk spreading over her face.

  “Um… I-I….” Sam stuttered.

  “Hi, Sam,” James said.

  Sam swallowed and turned to gaze at the man standing next to him. The very, very shirtless man. With miles and miles of perfectly tanned skin and lean muscles towering over him. Sam forced his eyes to meet James’s face and grinned nervously.

  “Hey,” Sam said and nodded unnecessarily.

  “Hello, dear. I’m Sam’s aunt, Millie.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” James said, his smile firmly in place as he reached over to shake her hand. Over Sam. His bare skin coming very, very close to his nose.

  Without thinking about it, Sam took a deep breath that was all James. The scent of his woodsy aftershave mixed with the salty sea air made Sam’s mouth water. He resisted closing his eyes as he took in his scent, but couldn’t help the quiet wistful sigh that escaped him.

  James straightened after shaking Ana’s hand and smiled at the four of them.

  Sam glanced quickly around to make sure no one had caught him during his small moment of weakness while literally sniffing James, only to find his sister staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

  Sam blushed furiously and hoped he could pass it off as sunburn. Sadly, they hadn’t been in the sun long enough for anyone to believe him.

  “Well, what brings you to these parts?” Aunt Millie asked, biting the tip of her sunglasses suggestively. Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes and tell his aunt sh
e was barking up the wrong tree. Sam was pretty sure James was gay.

  “My family isn’t going to be around for the holidays. So I decided to take a walk on the beach. See if something interesting popped up.” James’s facial expression never faltered, but he focused on Sam as he said the last part.

  Sam’s stomach did a little flip, and he smiled nervously at him. Sam was sure James couldn’t possibly be talking about him. But it was nice to pretend he was. Just for a little while.

  “Why don’t you join us?” Aunt Millie asked, and Sam had to resist the urge to shake some sense into her. Because he knew exactly what she was trying to do.

  “I’d love to, but I was just going for a run,” James informed her.

  Sam’s heart sank a little bit. Even though he didn’t approve of Aunt Millie’s matchmaking attempts, spending time with James and his family would be almost like a dream come true.

  “Oh, well, why don’t you grace us with your presence later? We’re going to cook an amazing Christmas dinner at Sam’s apartment. You should come. No one should spend Christmas alone,” Aunt Millie said.

  “She’s right,” Ana added unhelpfully. “You should definitely stop by.”

  James flickered his gaze from Sam to his sister, then Aunt Millie, before landing back on Sam.

  “I wouldn’t want to impose.” James’s smile faltered a bit. He looked uncertain and maybe a little hopeful.

  “No, you’re more than welcome to join us. There’s always room for one more,” Sam said honestly.

  His grin was so bright Sam almost jumped into his arms and shouted for James to take him right then and there. But because he wasn’t the hero in a tragic romance, Sam returned his bright smile as genuinely as he could, even if in his mind, he was trying to figure out how to fit seven adults and three children into his small and cramped apartment. That he hadn’t really even bothered to decorate for Christmas.

  “I’d love to join you for dinner. Maybe you’d like to come with me somewhere this afternoon?” James asked, never taking his attention off Sam.

  “Oh, what do you have in mind?” Aunt Millie asked, winking at James.

  Ana snickered and shook her head, probably realizing James was gay.

  “There’s this traditional party on the day before Christmas with singing and dancing and it’s a lot of fun to watch and to participate.” He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair a little nervously. The movement enhanced his lean muscles and made Sam’s mouth go a bit dry. “I usually go. Thought maybe you’d like to join me.”

  Sam opened his mouth to politely refuse, thinking once more of all the things he had to prepare at home for the last-minute dinner his aunt and sister had invited James to attend, but Aunt Millie beat him to it.

  “We’d love to! Since we’re only here for a few days, I want to see everything,” she said excitedly.

  Sam couldn’t even muster the will to be angry with her. Because she was right—they would only be spending a few days with him. And if they wanted to go to a party, then he would most definitely go with them.

  “We’d love to,” Sam told James, smiling at him.

  James grinned and nodded. They exchanged a few more pleasantries before James excused himself.

  Sam stayed with his family on the beach for a little while longer, soaking up the sun and the company. His sister even managed to convince him to go into the water with her. But soon, they left to have lunch themselves and get ready for the afternoon festivities.

  Sam went home and tidied everything as best as he could but had to resign himself to not having a Christmas tree or any ornaments hanging from the walls and windows.

  He dressed in comfortable casual clothes. Had a small freak-out over spending Christmas Eve and having Christmas dinner with James as he left the apartment. But eventually he managed to calm himself down enough to meet his family.

  THE MAIN street was crowded. There were people everywhere. Mostly families and couples, but Sam saw a few lonely figures here and there, wandering around.

  Sam craned his neck and spotted James standing on the fringes of the crowd. He made his way toward him, but his feet faltered a bit when James’s face broke into a huge grin as he turned and saw Sam.

  “Hi,” Sam said lamely.

  “Hey,” James responded.

  They were silent for a bit, and Sam shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, trying to come up with something to say.

  “Have you eaten?” James asked, moving aside to let a woman carrying a baby pass him. Which brought him closer to Sam.

  “Yeah,” Sam said, his voice a little squeaky. He cleared his throat and forced himself to calm down. “Yes. I’ve eaten.” It was a lie. He hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. But he wasn’t about to tell James that, mostly because he was the reason Sam had abstained from eating anything. His stomach had been too filled with nervous jitters to keep anything down.

  James nodded but what looked like disappointment crossed his face. Sam blinked and the look was gone, replaced by James’s usual polite smile.

  “So, what is supposed to happen here?” Sam asked after another brief silence.

  It was apparently the right thing to ask, since James grinned widely and pointed to a space a good ten or fifteen feet from them that had been cleared.

  James opened his mouth, probably to explain what the space was for. Just then, an announcer stepped into the middle and James nodded toward him.

  He wore a shiny white shirt and equally shiny black pants. His dark skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Sam imagined he couldn’t be very comfortable in those heavy clothes in the unrelenting heat. But the man smiled brightly anyway, as if he couldn’t be happier.

  He raised his hands and the crowd quieted. The few people who were still talking were nudged or shushed into silence. When only soft whispers could be heard, the man spoke.

  Although Sam had been practicing his Portuguese, he still couldn’t make out all the words. He understood welcome and good night and something about something starting soon.

  James was smiling, but it faded a little when he noticed Sam frowning at the man.

  “I keep forgetting you’re not from around here,” James said with a polite smile. “Do you need me to translate?”

  Sam opened his mouth to refuse, not wanting to impose on James. But then he thought better of it. “Maybe some context would be nice.”

  “Yes, we would love some context.” Aunt Millie smiled brightly at James.

  The rest of Sam’s family followed her, and one of his nephews threw himself against his legs, babbling about all the sounds and colors. About how his mom had bought him the biggest bag of popcorn.

  Sam chuckled at the little boy and raised his head from the chatterbox to look apologetically at James. But Sam’s words caught in his throat at the warm, soft look James was aiming at him.

  A slow smile spread over James’s handsome face when he caught Sam looking at him.

  Sam mouthed sorry to James, but the other man just shook his head slightly and kept on smiling.

  “Oh, they look fancy,” Aunt Millie exclaimed.

  Sam turned to discover people filing into the open space that had been previously occupied by the man wearing the shiny clothes.

  “They’re the dancers. In Portuguese they’re called pastorinhas—shepherds.” James tilted his chin toward the women.

  “What are they going to dance?” Ana asked.

  “The Pastoral. It’s a traditional dance brought by the Portuguese when they came to Brazil. There are two colors: blue and red.”

  The women, ages varying from ten to late fifties, divided themselves into three lines. On the left, all the women wore flowery blue dresses with puffy white shirts underneath. Tiaras and colorful ribbons adorned their heads, and they held tambourines decorated with tassels and even more ribbons. The women on the right wore similar clothes, except theirs were red. And in the middle of the two rows, young girls wore long white gowns and fake angel wings. In front of the ange
ls stood an older woman with too much makeup and a dress that was split down the middle: one half blue and the other half red.

  It was gaudy and tacky and over the top. But the women and girls were all smiling and picked up their long skirts as the music began and started to dance. They twirled and swayed from side to side.

  And then they sang. The song wasn’t fast, but it had a decent pace, and some people danced in the crowd.

  “What are they singing about?” Sam’s mother asked.

  “It’s mostly religious songs. Back in the day, they had what they called the profane pastoral, where the songs were filled with double entendres. And the Old Man”—he pointed to the man with the shiny clothes standing behind the three rows and singing along with them—“used to tell the crowd dirty jokes. Sometimes even fights broke out because of them.”

  Sam’s mother and aunt chatted delightedly, pointing at the dancers and even swaying with the music.

  The boys ran around them and ate more food than was probably healthy. But it was Christmas, so no one said anything.

  The air was warm and filled with music and the mingled scents of cinnamon, popcorn, stale beer, and the faraway salty aroma of the ocean. It was by no means anything Sam would’ve ever associated with Christmas, but there he was. Watching women in colorful dresses and pretty ribbons dancing and smiling to old songs that had probably been around before any of the buildings around them had been built.

  “Having fun?” James stepped next to Sam and touched his elbow slightly.

  “Yes,” Sam said honestly.

  “Do you think I could maybe steal you for a bit?” James asked, eyes twinkling underneath the streetlights.

  Maybe it was the music. Or maybe it was the different scents permeating the air. Normally, Sam would’ve politely declined and stayed with his family. Then he’d go home and spend the rest of the night regretting not having taken James up on his offer.

  Instead he found himself saying okay, then let his family know he was going for a walk and would see them later.

  He ignored Aunt Millie’s suggestive eyebrow wiggle and Ana’s knowing smile and walked after James as they made their way through the crowd. Away from the music and the scents.