Chapter Nine

Lance

"You want me to watch Claus for a day?"

I narrow my gaze at Jordan as I search her eyes for some hint that she's joking.

I find none.

"Yes." She puts her hands together. "You're not busy, are you? I mean, you're on vacation."

"I am," I admit as my gaze glosses over her.

Jordan is looking lovely again today. Hair in a braid. Cream-colored turtleneck. Denim overalls. She's even wearing lipstick.

It makes me want to wipe it off her.

"I need to bake some cupcakes for the town council," Jordan explains. "And I can't do that without someone to watch Claus, so..."

"You're baking for the town council?"

"Audrey asks me to bake for them now and then." She glances over her shoulder. "She's that blonde who lives down the street in that house with the big spruces in the front yard."

I nod.

"She tasted a brownie I baked once and ever since, she always pesters me to bake more. And I swear it was just an ordinary brownie."

I chuckle.

"Anyway, yeah, I'll be busy, and you're not, so you can watch Claus."

She pushes the boy forward. He finally takes his eyes off his robot to give me a grin.

I throw Jordan a puzzled look. "Is that an order?"

"Well, it is partly your fault for giving me equipment," she points out.

She gives Claus a long kiss on the cheek, which he quickly tries to wipe off.

"Be a good boy now."

Claus nods.

"You will take care of him, won't you?" she asks me next.

I nod too. "Yes."

"Good. Just drop him off this evening. Until then..." Jordan backs up. "Have fun."

Then she blows Claus a kiss, turns on her heel and walks off.

Once she's out of sight, I turn my gaze to Claus.

Well, this is unexpected. I thought Jordan didn't want him around me. It's not a bad thing, though. Who knows? I might find a quicker way to Jordan's bed through Claus.

I pat his shoulder.

True, I've never watched a kid before. But I run a company and I've made millions in a few years.

How hard can taking care of one little boy be?

~

Harder than I thought, I think hours later as I clean up the milk that Claus just spilled on the dining table.

"Sorry," he mumbles with a remorseful expression.

"It's fine." I give him a reassuring smile. "It was an accident. Just go on and finish your grilled cheese sandwich before it gets cold."

He nods, grabs his sandwich with both hands and takes a bite.

"Well?" I ask him. "How is it?"

He gives me a thumbs-up sign.

To think all he wanted was a plain grilled cheese sandwich. After refusing the sausages, the chicken wings and the mac and cheese that I prepared, the only kid-friendly items in my cooking repertoire. And Mrs. Cooper's grilled cheese sandwich, no less!

From the corner of my eye, I can see her peeking into the dining room with a twinkle in her knowing eyes and a grin on her wrinkled face.

She's enjoying this, isn't she?

As for me, I'm not so sure.

First, I got barraged with a hundred questions, so many I didn't even get a chance to ask my own. Then Claus and I decided to watch TV, which was fun for about fifteen minutes, which apparently was the longest he could sit still. We tried playing hide-and-seek, which I quickly learned wasn't a good idea in such a large house. I tried to get him interested in a video game on my laptop, but he ended up sneezing all over the screen and destroying one of the keys which he tapped too hard in frustration, which frankly, nearly made me lose my patience. We played pretend games after - we pretended to be firemen and astronauts; he pretended he was a superhero and I was the monster villain and then he pretended he was a cowboy and I was his horse. We played with his robot, which I ended up having to fix twice. The second time I couldn't put one of the arms back on, so we played catch with that until we ended up breaking a light bulb. And now, here we are at lunch.

Only lunch. It already feels like an entire day.

I throw the soaked paper towels in the trash can and wash my hands.

I wonder how Jordan does this every single day.

I go back to the table and start to dig into the sausage salad I've prepared for myself. Claus takes another bite from his sandwich.

Well, at least he seems to have settled down for the moment. Maybe he'll take a nap after lunch?

"Is Santa Claus real?" The question comes out of nowhere.

I look at him with arched eyebrows. The questions earlier were all simple questions, some silly, but this one, this seems serious.

And complicated. I have to be careful not to hurt his feelings and make Jordan angry.

I swallow. "What do you think?"

Claus shrugs. "He gave me a present last year."

"Well, then he must be real," I say.

"Did he give you a present?" he asks me.

"No," I confess. "Santa only gives children presents."

"But he gave Mom a present."

I set down my fork. "Maybe it's something your mother wanted as a child that he wasn't able to give until last year."

"Oh."

"What was it?" I ask curiously.

"A pot holder."

My eyebrows go up. "A pot holder?"

"It was red. Mommy likes the color red."

I remember that red and white dress she wore all those years ago.

"Yes, she does," I agree.

I pick up my fork and lean forward.

"And what else does Mommy like?"

"Baking."

I already know that.

"And pervasy."

My eyebrows crease. "What?"

"She always says for me to leave her alone when she's in the bathroom."

I nod. "Ah. You mean privacy?"

"That's what I said," Claus argues.

I decide not to argue further and just keep eating.

"And a unicorn," Claus adds.

I throw him another puzzled look. "A unicorn?"

"You know, the horse with a horn." He places his hand on top of his head and forms a fist. "She said she had one once made of glass but it broke."

I nod. "I see."

"I don't like horses," Claus goes on even with his mouth full. "Because you can't keep one inside the house."

"Good point."

"And I don't like sun-a-moon."

It takes me a moment to understand that. Cinnamon.

"Really? Neither do I."

He's probably the first person I know other than myself who doesn't like that spice. Interesting.

"And pickles," Claus adds.

I guess I didn't like them, either, when I was younger.

"What do you like?" I ask him. "What do you want for Christmas?"

"A dog," he answers. "That's what I asked Santa. And you know what? I'll name him Santa. That way, he'll be Santa and I'll be Claus and we'll be a team."

I nod. "Good name. Have you told your mother?"

"Don't have to. When Santa drops him off, Mommy can't give him back."

I chuckle. Smart kid.

"What about you?" Claus asks me. "What do you want for Christmas?"

I shrug. "Maybe I just want something back."

He gives me a confused look.

"Maybe I just want to spend Christmas with someone I really want to spend it with," I say.

He nods. "Oh."

We eat for a few moments in silence.

"Lance?" Claus breaks it.

"Yes?"

"After we eat, can you help me make something for Mommy for Christmas?"

"Sure." I wipe my mouth with a table napkin. "That sounds like a great idea. What do you have in mind?"

~

"So, we'll just get some cotton balls..." I grab one from the jar. "And then we'll glue them here to the cardboard and our Santa beard should be done."

As I put some glue on the cotton, I can't help but grin at what we're making.

First, it was a gingerbread. But Claus changed his mind and decided we should make a Santa hat for Jordan, then a Santa beard.

A Santa beard for a present? I can think of a few people I'd like to give one just to piss them off. But I suppose Jordan won't be. Whatever Claus's gift is, as long as it's from him, I'm sure she'll be happy.

"Lance?"

I glue the piece of cotton on the cardboard. "Yes?"

"Lance!"

I turn my head and my eyes grow wide as I see blood dripping out of his nose.

Fuck.

I grab a handful of cotton and hold it beneath Claus's nose, but it quickly turns crimson. I feel the blood on my palms.

Now what do I do?

"Mrs. Cooper?!?" I shout.

No answer. She's probably having her nap.

I could go wake her up, but I don't want to leave Claus alone. Besides, I need to do something right now.

I take my phone out of my pocket and call Erin.

"Sir?"

It's the number that only I know, the one I gave her.

"How do you stop a nosebleed?" I ask her.

"A nose - ?"

"Yes, a nosebleed. How do you stop it?"

I hear taps in the background and thank God that Erin always has either a tablet or a laptop with her at all times and that she's a fast typist.

"Well?" I demand.

"You can't really stop it, sir," Erin answers. "But you can lean your head slightly forward - "

"It's not me." I tilt Claus's head forward. "Anyway, go on."

"And pinch his, her nose for at least ten minutes. That's all."

I pinch Claus's nose.

"Tell me when it's ten minutes."

"Yes, sir."

After what seems like an eternity, I hear her speak.

"Time's up, sir."

I let go and then let out a sigh of relief as I realize the bleeding seems to have stopped.

"Thank goodness," I mutter.

"Don't worry, sir. It's nothing serious. It's especially common in winter because the air is dry."

"Thanks, Erin."

I hang up.

I bring Claus to the bathroom so I can clean him up. I frown at the stain on his shirt.

What will Jordan say when she finds out?

Well, it's not my fault. Still...

"We can say it's jam," Claus offers.

I look at him. "You'd lie to your mother?"

"I'd keep a secret."

I smile. "Well, that would be much appreciated, I think."

"But in exchange, you'll have to play pretend games with me some more," Claus says.

I scratch the back of my head. "You really are something, aren't you?"

"I hear Mommy say that a lot, too."

I chuckle and ruffle his hair. "Fine. We'll play until you're too tired to stand."

~

Finally, Claus seems to have ran out of energy.

Just a few minutes after sitting down on the couch, he seems to have dozed off. Mrs. Cooper offers me a blanket to place over him.

As I do that, I find myself staring at his little face.

Funny how someone so mischievous can seem like an angel when he's sleeping.

I brush my fingers against one of his soft cheeks.

It's funny, too, how watching a sleeping child can make one feel completely at peace - a sensation I've never felt before - or that in spite of all the trouble he's given me, I seem to like Claus.

Who knew I liked children?

Or maybe it's just Claus, who reminds me of all the mischief I used to cause and the games I used to play? Who makes me feel like a boy again, carefree and adventurous. I don't know exactly why. There's just something special about this boy. Somehow, he makes me feel things I've never felt before - scared and brave at the same time, strong and vulnerable, young and old, sure and unsure.

Before I know it, my lips are pressed to the top of his head. Then they curve into a smile.

I sit beside him and pull the woolen blanket over us both as I stare blankly at the wall across from me.

In the next moment, I doze off beside Claus.