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Patrick loves nothing more than holiday traditions. He loves watching ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ with his parents and nibbling on the buttery shortbread cookies shaped like Christmas trees and stars that his mom bakes on Christmas Eve. He loves the special breakfast his dad prepares every Christmas morning and the way his dad always surprises his mom with just the right gift on Christmas Day. He loves accompanying his extended family on the piano as they sing carols late into the evening.
Another tradition he really loves occurs well before Christmas. One he’s participated in from the time he was a young child, though from the other side of things. He’s not ashamed to admit that he used to believe in Santa until the ripe old age of 12. With no older siblings to ruin it for him, he held onto the magic as long as he could, even when the other kids at school had their suspicions much earlier. He loved sitting down at his desk with a piece of crisp lined paper, surrounded by catalogues, deciding what to ask Santa for and explaining why he was deserving. It was so exciting to drop the letter in the red mailbox at the end of his street, off to its snowy destination. And the anticipation of checking his own mail every single day, awaiting the response from Santa Claus. Now he gets to BE Santa and answer the letters of those little children who still believe.
This year, in the spirit of keeping things local, Canada Post has set up a little group writing session for all those who wanted to participate in the Letters to Santa program at City Hall in his new home of Schitt’s Creek. He’s only been here for a few weeks, having left his hometown seeking a fresh start. Finding himself missing all the comforts of home at this time of year, Patrick happily leads the efforts to spread joy and holiday cheer to all the children of the town.
Well before the other Santas are to arrive, Patrick rearranges the tables and chairs, lays out various coloured pens, pencil crayons, markers and even some glitter glue in case anyone is partial to sparkles. He stacks reams of paper in a wide variety of colours and sorts the letters received into small baskets scattered along the tables. Feeling a sense of pride, Patrick stands back and admires his hard work. The kids of Schitt’s Creek are going to be so excited to receive their letters.
Or so he thought. Until all the townspeople who volunteered for the event start piling in and he realizes things may not go as planned. He finds himself seated across from a very gorgeous, yet very grumpy pseudo-Santa.
“I can’t even read this kid's handwriting. How the fuck am I supposed to answer this letter?” he huffs to the blonde woman sitting beside him.
Sure, the question wasn’t directed at him, but Patrick feels the necessity to respond to the man, trying to be helpful. “Just write back with a generic answer saying if they’re good they’ll get what they’re asking for.” He shrugs in the guy’s general direction.
The man, dressed entirely in black, doesn’t look impressed by the response. He glares back. “But what if they’re asking for a personal shopper, or to meet Mariah Carey, or for their sister to mysteriously disappear?” He tosses an even more intense glare at the woman next to him. She levels him with an equal stare accompanied by a sneer, as if they’re almost about to come to blows. Before it happens, the man looks back at Patrick, the anger now gone from his eyes. “Do you know how disappointed they’ll be if they think they’re getting these things and then they just don’t?”
Not wanting to get in the middle of anything, he tries to placate the man. ”I wouldn’t worry too much about that.” And he can’t help but mumble the next part under his breath. “Though those particular choices do seem oddly specific...”
“Sorry, what did you say?”
Apparently he didn’t mumble softly enough. “Nothing. What was your name again?” he asks, trying to change the subject. And admittedly, he wouldn’t mind knowing a little more about the perplexing, handsome stranger. It’s a relatively new feeling for him, but he finds himself inexplicably attracted to this man. He’s so striking, it makes Patrick’s stomach swoop.
It has been a long and confusing road, getting to the point where he was truly comfortable with himself. It certainly played a significant role in wanting to explore the world outside of his hometown and landed him here. This is the first man he’s really found himself drawn to since he arrived in Schitt's Creek.
Before the man can get a word out, the woman accompanying him responds instead. “Oh, I’m Alexis, Alexis Rose.” She points at the gold A dangling sideways on her necklace. “And this is my brother David.” She holds her hand out limply in front of Patrick.
“Yes, her brother David that’s been dragged here against his will,” he chimes in while frowning, looking awfully put upon.
Alexis is still holding out her hand, seemingly not willing to put it down until she gets some sort of response, so he grabs it weakly and shakes it up and down, hoping that he’s appeased her. “Patrick. Patrick Brewer. Nice to meet you both.”
She gives him a meek smile in return and David doesn’t even look up from his paper, still wearing a scowl.
Patrick looks down at the letter David has just finished writing. While he notices that David’s handwriting is actually quite beautiful, there's a bit of a problem. It’s signed David.
“Uh, not to bother you...because you’re doing a great job so far,” Patrick hesitates, unsure of the reaction he’s about to get. “But you signed it with your name.”
David does not look bothered by this fact, not one bit. “So?” he asks with an air of indifference.
“David, that kid spent time writing to Santa, you need to sign it from Santa.”
“Why would I lie to…” David picks up the original child’s letter, scanning the bottom. “Luke. I can’t just lie to Luke!” He sounds personally affronted on Luke’s behalf.
“Well, you can’t just tell him Santa doesn’t exist, David.”
“Why not? Better he hear it from me than be made fun of by his classmates and have to be homeschooled for half a year out of sheer embarrassment, setting him up for a lifetime of regret and disappointment!”
Patrick looks at David, puzzled. He decides not to press it any further. He’ll just make a mental note to retrieve Luke’s letter and white-out the signature, replacing David’s name with jolly old Saint Nick’s.
David ruffles through the letters in the basket with his right hand. “Hmm, who’s my next victim?”
Patrick is a bit perturbed by his choice of words, but he just watches him, noticing his long, graceful fingers embellished with four silver rings which sparkle like tinsel.
“These are all addressed to the North Pole. The postal code is HOHOHO.” He snorts and Patrick does his best not to snicker himself. “There’s no way these kids could possibly think these letters are actually going there, right? If they’re old enough to write letters, they’re clearly too old to still believe in Santa. ”
Apparently he’s still stuck on this. Patrick can’t help but roll his eyes a little. He hopes David doesn’t notice. Patrick grabs the letter that David had pulled out of the basket and placed in front of him to work on next and reads it over quickly. “He’s only in Grade 2. I’m sure he still believes.”
“I knew about Santa by the time I was 5 and was blackmailing parents who lied to their kids in Grade 2,” David replies with a slightly mischievous grin.
Patrick smirks back. “Well, I guess that explains it.”
“Explains what, exactly?” David places his hands on his hips.
“Your attitude towards Santa. Haven’t you ever heard that if you don’t believe, you won’t receive?”
“No, that’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” His flawless hands are now waving all over the place as Alexis chuckles beside him.
“Come on David, you love to receive gifts, why wouldn’t you believe in Santa?” she chimes in, clearly relishing the opportunity to tease him.
“Choke on an ornament hook, Alexis.” David looks at her, pissed off. “Well, I’m really enjoying this whole thing.” He waves in a big circle encompassing the letters and both Alexis and Patrick.
Patrick tries to stifle his laughter, pressing his fingertips to his mouth. He tries to get back to work on his current letter to Janie, age 4. He reaches across the table for the blue glitter glue.
David grabs his wrist before he can bring it to his page. The skin-on-skin contact sends a little shiver up his spine, like he’s stepped outside in the dead of winter without a toque. “Excuse me, are you trying to bedazzle your letter?”
“I just thought it would be fun to add a bit of glitter!” He doesn’t move his arm, reveling in David’s touch.
Needing to use his limbs again for the wild hand and arm gestures he uses to get his point across, David lets go. Too quickly for Patrick’s liking. “There’s no way Santa would bedazzle anything at his age.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in Santa, David?”
“UGH!!!” he shrieks.
Patrick allows himself to let out a full belly laugh at David’s response, or lack thereof. David tries to glower at him but it doesn’t work because there’s a hint of a smile on his face that he is seemingly unable to remove. Patrick likes it.
They all find themselves settling into a comfortable silence as they work to answer more children’s letters. There are a few times that Patrick tries to subtly sneak glances at David, and he notices he catches his eye each time, making Patrick blush a little. While David always looks away immediately, he seems to tuck a tiny smirk into his cheek as he quickly tries to avoid making direct eye contact. Only once over the next half an hour does Patrick have to tell David that he can’t tell a kid that their requested choice of gift is incorrect, as David puts it.
He thinks they are going to make it to the end of the session without any more issues, when all of a sudden David says in a low voice, “Oh my god, I’m tasting metal.”
“David, are you okay?”
“Patrick, this kid's name is Velvette! Can I reply that they should ask Santa for a new name for Christmas!?”
He tries to hold back his laughter, but he fails miserably. Patrick looks at Alexis and she can’t seem to hold in her giggles either.
“This imbalanced social dynamic is not working for me at all. I give up!” David pushes his pens and markers forward on the table and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a pout. Honestly, Patrick wouldn’t mind kissing that pout off his face.
Alexis coos, “Aww, David, aren’t you having fun?”
“Ew, no. It’s entirely your damn fault that I’m here, Alexis.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry there was a miscalculation and I had to do five more community service hours, David.” She mirrors him, crossing her arms over her chest.
As Patrick watches the Rose siblings fight and argue over how much they don’t want to be there, he realizes a few things. First, as much as David spent his time complaining throughout the session, he still did this good thing for the children of the town and he ultimately did this great thing for his sister just by being there, completing the hours alongside her to keep her company. Clearly, David is a good person. The other major realization Patrick makes is that he would very much like to ask David out.
He doesn’t want to interrupt the heated discussion, so he grabs a blank piece of letter paper and uses the tools available to craft a little note.
Feeling a bit jittery with nerves, he slides the note across to David once he’d finished his last letter for the day. David unfolds it, opens and starts reading it, eyes darting down the page. His mouth maneuvers into a soft smile as he goes. Eventually he looks up at Patrick, the smile having reached all the way to his eyes now. He nods and grins, lighting up his face like a Christmas tree. “Yes, Patrick, I’ll go out for dinner with you tonight, despite your entirely excessive use of glitter glue on this note.”
Patrick feels energized at the response, like a strand of lights that has just been plugged in. And he’s pretty sure his own face is all lit up too. Maybe being apart from his family for the holidays this year won’t be so bad after all.