Work Text:
Kris hung the last ornament on his little Christmas tree. He had put a single string of white lights on it and a garland of popcorn and cranberries he strung himself. There wasn’t a lot of money so he improvised, making homemade decorations. His mom had sent him a package of ornaments – some family heirlooms, a lot of them little fragile trinkets he had made for her when in grade school. There was one new bauble he was saving for last.
At the bottom of the box, under the tissue paper, was a packet of letters, wrapped in a red ribbon. A note was slipped under the bow.
‘Dear Kris: I found these when I was digging out the ornaments for you. Don’t be disappointed that I didn’t mail these. I think you’ll agree your wishes were answered anyway. Love Mama’.
The top letter was addressed to Santa Claus at the North Pole. They were his letters to Santa, written so many years ago when the toughest decision in his life had been what to ask for.
He made a hot chocolate, grabbed a few cookies and crawled into bed, turning on the radio and letting Christmas music fill the silence of the apartment.
The first letter he opened was written when he five. It was the first year he wrote his own letter. He had great difficulty making out the words but he recognized TENAGE MUTEN TURLES.
He opened a few more then came across a letter from 1994 when he was nine. DEAR SANTA CLAUS: I WANT VIDEO GAMES AND THE MIGHTY MORPHIN’ POWER RANGERS. He didn’t get the Power Rangers that year or any year after his mom caught him practicing karate kicks on his little brother.
The last ‘official’ Santa letter was that next year. He had asked for three pages of toys and ended by saying he figured he’d go for broke since Santa wasn’t real anyway. Needless to say, that was the last time he found a gift addressed to him from Santa under the tree.
There was one more envelop. One of his high school teachers, World History he thought, had asked her students to write a Christmas letter to Santa from the world. Kris had wrote the usual stuff … PEACE ON EARTH … STOP TO INJUSTICES … UNDERSTANDING. He laughed how a kid so inwardly conflicted could have asked for these things to be given to the world when he couldn’t even have them in his own life.
Beneath that last envelop was a folded piece of paper, obviously crumpled up then flattened and stained brown. He had no clue when he wrote this. He opened it and read it over. Now he remembered; his mom must have pulled it out of the garbage that night when he’d gone to sleep off his first hangover.
It was written three years ago, during his second attempt at college. Up til then, he’d kept to himself, feeling awkward and left out. His younger brother Daniel dragged him to a frat house Xmas party and for the first time – and last time – he used alcohol to try and fit in. He made out with a few girls dressed as elves but he wasn’t liking it. He flagged down a taxi and made his way home to his parent’s place. He thought he was alone and he managed to make a really strong pot of coffee, drinking it black and scanning the local newspaper on the kitchen table. On the front page was a reminder there were only a few days left to mail your letter to Santa if you wanted him to answer. Kris dug in the desk and found paper and a pen. Taking a strong gulp, he composed his first Santa letter in years.
SANTA:
HOW ARE YOU? SORRY I HAVEN’T WRITTEN LATELY. WHAT DO I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS? I WANT SOMEONE TO LOVE ME. I WANT TO HAVE A HAND TO HOLD IN THE PARK AND LIPS TO KISS WHENEVER I FEEL LIKE IT. I WANT SOMEONE BEAUTIFUL AND STRONG AND WHO THINKS I’M THE MOST TERRIFIC GUY IN THE WORLD. CAN YOU MAKE ME SOMEONE LIKE THAT SANTA CAUSE IT AIN’T HAPPENING IN THE REAL WORLD. THANKS.
KRIS ALLEN,
PATHETIC LOSER.
After he had written the letter, he’d spilled coffee on it and tossed it in the trash. Who was he kidding, he’d thought back then. Nobody would want him, ever.
Kris had left the bedroom door ajar and heard the front door softly click open. In the shadows, a figure tip toed across the living room carpet and put a gift under the tree and paused, looking over the simple display of holiday cheer. Then the shadow turned off the lights and came into the bedroom.
“Hey, I didn’t think you’d still be up.”
Kris waved the letters. “Just reminiscing. Mom sent them with the ornaments.”
“What are they, old love letters?”
“Yeah, to Santa Claus.”
“That’s sick!” Laughter intermingled with ‘Jingle Bells’ in the tiny room.
“Were you busy tonight?”
Clothes hit the floor and his companion ran to the bathroom.
“Insane,” came a reply, forced out around a toothbrush full of cinnamon lather. “Why do people always wait till the last minute to do their Christmas shopping? I certainly wouldn’t if I didn’t have to wait for my holiday bonus.”
The other side of the bed was soon occupied by a warm, loving body. Soft lips kissed his, fingers brushing his arm.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too but tomorrow’s Christmas and we both have the day off. We can make up for lost time then.”
“It’s a deal,” mingled with a stifled yawn. “I’m sorry baby, I need some Z’s. I promise, we’ll make up for it in the morning. I love you. By the way, the tree looks fabulous.”
“I love you too. Sweet dreams.”
“With you by my side, always.”
They kissed again and sleep gradually took over.
Kris struggled to stay awake until he put the letters away in the box. He saw the new ornament and kicked himself for forgetting. He picked it up and opened it. A tear and huge smile animated his face. He gave it a place of honor up at the top and then thought of something he should do before turning in.
Sitting at the kitchen table so he wouldn’t be heard in the bedroom, Kris took out a piece of paper and a pen.
DEAR SANTA:
I KNOW YOU DIDN’T GET MY LAST LETTER BUT I WANTED TO THANK YOU ANYWAY FOR GIVING ME MY MOST PRECIOUS GIFT. IT WAS WELL WORTH THE WAIT. IT’S BEAUTIFUL AND STRONG AND LOVES ME LIKE NO ONE EVER HAS.
THANK YOU FOR ADAM.
He paused, tenderly turning the simple gold ban on his finger.
THANK YOU SANTA FOR MY HUSBAND. I’M THE LUCKIEST GUY IN THE WORLD.
YOURS TRULY,
KRIS ALLEN-LAMBERT.
Kris headed off to bed and the streetlights glow illuminated their first Christmas tradition. The ornament was a quaint little house with fancy script below – ‘Our First Christmas as Husband and Husband’.