Cole woke up in the same "residence inn" hotel he’d been staying at all week and realized how damned depressing it was to be spending Christmas in a hotel room that was decorated as if it were a replacement for home. A humming fridge in the kitchenette and a little welcome note sitting on the laminate bathroom counter didn’t make this place home.
Hell, he couldn’t call the apartment he had in L.A. a home either. Sure, he had his stuff there, a few photos on the wall, and a welcome mat some girlfriend had bought him as a housewarming gift, but it had never felt like home. Had never felt like anything other than a place to put up his feet for the night. He thought of Stephanie’s little duplex. Even from the outside, it had a cozy, warm and welcoming feel. Like her, he thought. His heart raced a little at the thought of seeing her again today. His last time, for who knew how long. Maybe he’d come back to Boston in a few weeks. See if she’d go to dinner with him.
Cole got dressed, then headed out the door, bypassing the community breakfast in the dining hall. He pulled up at the mall a half hour early and within a few minutes, he’d transformed into Santa, ready for another day of playing in the big guy.
He’d been here for over a week now, and though he wouldn’t say it was his favorite role to date, he had to admit that the part had grown on him. There was something…rewarding about making a child smile. There were the inevitable criers and peeing babies, but overall, most of the kids looked at him with a mix of wonder and awe, and left beaming and believing in goodness and miracles. It was nice. Really nice.
Arnold emerged from the restroom, already dressed in his elf costume. "Ready, Santa? It’s Christmas Eve, which means we get to leave early today. Just in time for you to hit the sleigh tonight." Arnold chuckled.
Cole tried to drum up some enthusiasm. This was it. The end of his stay here. "I’m heading back to L.A. in the morning."
"You’re traveling on Christmas Day?" Arnold shook his head. "Do you have family to get back to?"
"No. Not really." He didn’t need to mention that his parents had divorced while he was in high school. His father had died three years ago from cirrhosis and his mother lived in Florida, only calling Cole when she wanted to show off to her friends about her son the actor. There’d be no big family get-together on Christmas Day, just a gift card in the mail and a short, awkward phone call. Cole found himself wondering how Stephanie would spend the day, and wishing he was going to be wherever that was.
"Man, that’s sad. I don’t know what I’d do without my family. They’re like my rock." Arnold patted his stomach. "Of course, my mom’s cooking is part of the appeal too. She makes a macaroni and cheese that would make Paula Deen weep."
Cole grinned. "Sounds like a meal that wouldn’t be Chubby Chum approved."
"Even Chubby Chums need to loosen the reins once in a while. Life is all about risk." Arnold patted his shoulder. "Something I’m sure you know all about, being in Hollywood and all."
"Yeah, yeah, I guess so." Cole headed out of the locker room and down the hall toward the mall and his last day as Santa. He wondered how true that statement was. How many risks had he taken in his life? Yeah, moving to L.A. and pursuing the unstable and insecure career of acting had been a major risk, but he’d done it with his first role practically in his pocket. And the one big risk he’d thought about taking—
Well, he’d backed out of that almost as fast as he’d said the words marry me.
Where would he be if he had stayed here in Boston, married Stephanie and settled down in that duplex with her? Would he wake up in the morning and have that feeling of home? Or would he still be searching for something as elusive as the fragrance of flowers on the wind?
God, now he was getting maudlin and poetic. A definite sign he needed to go back to L.A.
A few minutes later, he was settled in Santa’s chair, with Stephanie at the register again, avoiding him. Kerrie shot him mean looks every few seconds, clearly upset that he had rebuffed her. Arnold was the only one talking to him, as he ushered kids on and off Cole’s lap.
A little after eleven, as Cole helped a three-year-old onto the floor, and started thinking about lunch, he noticed a little boy who looked about five years old, hugging the candy cane pole that flanked the gate to Santa’s Village. He wore khaki pants and a red reindeer sweater, with miniature brown leather work boots on his feet. He had a mop of dark brown hair that nearly covered his eyes. Stephanie knelt beside him, holding his hand, and pointing at Santa. She whispered something in the boy’s ear, then he nodded and crossed the carpeted space. Arnold greeted him with an enthusiastic, "Hey, Buddy!"
The boy smiled back. "Hi, Arnold."
"Santa’s waiting for you," Arnold said, "and you better hurry because he’s got to get on his sleigh in a little while."
The little boy nodded, then crossed to Cole, his eyes downcast, a flush filling his cheeks. Cole chuckled. Another shy one.
"Ho-ho-ho, and who do we have here?" Cole said.
He toed at the carpet. "Joshua."
"Come on up, Joshua, and tell me what you want for Christmas."
Joshua hesitated a second more, then climbed onto Cole’s lap and peered up at Cole. "Are you the real Santa?"
"I sure am." Cole grinned. Boy, the kid had some seriously blue eyes. Reminded Cole of himself at that age, with the messy dark brown hair and shy smile.
"My mommy said you are. She said that if I was really good, you would come to my house."
"And have you been good?"
Joshua nodded. "Uh-huh. Super good. I didn’t get any yellow lights in Mrs. Reynolds’ class all week."
Whatever yellow lights were, Cole thought. "That’s great."
"Sometimes I get red lights, but not lots. Mrs. Reynolds said I was the goodest boy in her whole class."
Cole chuckled. He could relate. He’d been in trouble a time or two in school, and had always tempered his behavior around Christmas, just in case it impacted his case for a new toy with Santa. "Just keep on doing that all year. Santa’s always watching, you know."
Joshua nodded, as serious as a judge. "Imma good boy."
The kid seemed like one. Polite, personable, the kind of kid any parent would be proud of. "What do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas, Joshua?"
"I told my mommy I wanted a bike so I could ride like the big boys, on my street. But…" He looked down at his legs, and swung them back and forth, toes almost kissing the floor.
"But what?"
"But I really want something else." He raised his gaze again, those wide blue eyes filled now with unshed tears.
"What’s that?" Damn, the kid looked familiar. Maybe Joshua had already been through the line. Lord knew he’d seen enough kids in the past week to get one or two confused.
"I want…" Joshua sighed, and lowered his voice to a whisper, "a daddy. But don’t tell my mommy cuz she gets sad when I say that."
Cole’s heart broke. He’d heard a thousand wish lists over the last few days, for Barbie dolls and Lego sets and video games, but none that had been as simple as this. He wanted to tell the kid he knew how he felt, that the one thing Cole had asked for every holiday had been a family that was there, a family like Stephanie’s, a family that loved and laughed and sat around the table and baked cookies. Then he’d grown up and found out Santa was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, and that families like that were a rarity.
Joshua was staring up at him, waiting for his answer. What could he say? What answer could Cole possibly give that would make this better? The poor kid probably whispered the same prayers at night that Cole had. Please, Santa, please. Cole wished he could reach out and pluck a father from the air for Joshua. Such a sweet kid. So like himself when he was…
Cole met Stephanie’s gaze across the village. She had her hand to her mouth, and tears were shimmering in her eyes. For the first time, he realized Stephanie’s mother Helen was standing behind her daughter, holding a kid-sized winter coat. She too looked teary eyed. Stephanie wasn’t taking a photo, wasn’t doing her job. She was watching Joshua. And Cole.
Cole jerked his attention back to the boy on his lap, and the world began to spin. The blue eyes. The hair. The smile. The way Joshua had clung to Stephanie and even now, looked back at her for reassurance, confidence. Like a child looked at his mother.
Holy hell.
Stephanie tried to hurry out of Santa’s Village at closing time, but she wasn’t fast enough. Cole caught up to her, and hauled her into the hall behind the secret door. "Why didn’t you tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
He tugged off the beard and then the hat, wanting her to see him, not the costume. "We have a son?"
The world stopped in that moment between Cole’s question and her answer. The music kept playing, the mall kept up its hum of activity, but in the narrow space of the hall, the air was still, expectant. She let out a long breath. "Yes."
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
"It’s complicated, Cole." She turned away. "Just go back to L.A. We’re fine without you."
"That’s not what Joshua said."
Stephanie wheeled back, fiery anger flashing in her green eyes. "You do not get the right to refer to our son. You were not here. I was. I carried him, I raised him. I’m his parent, not you."
"Because you never gave me a choice, Stephanie. You never even told me he existed."
"And what would you have done, Cole? You made it abundantly clear that you didn’t want anything to tie you down. That’s what I was. A tie that bound you in place." She cursed and shook her head. "I refused to let my son be thought of the same way."
"I wouldn’t have—" He cut off the words. Thought of the man he had been six years ago. All he’d wanted, all he’d been focused on, was getting the hell away from this city, from the life that had done nothing but disappoint him, so that he could become someone in L.A. He hadn’t fought for Stephanie or for anything that mattered. He’d focused on himself and nothing else. And where had that gotten him?
Alone, pursuing a career that had lost its allure a while ago, living a country apart from those he…
He loved.
Damn. What had he done? Cole exhaled, and reached for Stephanie, but she shied away from his touch. "You’re right, Stephanie. I’m sorry. I was selfish and self-centered back then. You’re probably right about how I would have reacted."
The fire drained and tears filled her eyes. "Don’t worry. He doesn’t know who you are."
She was dismissing him already, severing the ties before they could solidify. Cole thought of his early morning flight, his life on the West Coast. Then he heard Joshua’s heartfelt words in his head. I want…a daddy.
"Joshua told me that he wants a father for Christmas," Cole said, and wondered if he had what it took to finally step up and be the man he should have been long ago.
"He also wants a bike." Stephanie worked a smile to her face. "Guess which is going to be under the tree this year?"
Cole made the long trek back to the locker room, his mind spinning with the knowledge that he had a child. A son. Those words repeated, over and over in his mind. He was a father to a boy he’d never even known existed. A boy who wanted—and needed—a father in his life. Cole thought of how much he had craved the same thing when he’d been a child, and how he would have given anything to have a dad who played catch in the yard and showed up at his football games.
Doing that for Joshua meant staying in Boston, or attempting some kind of crazy coast-to-coast visitation schedule. What kind of father could Cole be from three thousand miles away?
Cole entered the locker room and found John Dexter leaning against the metal lockers, thumbing through his cell phone. He looked up when Cole entered the room. "Just the man I wanted to see."
"Let me just get this suit hung up for you," Cole said.
Dexter waved that off. "Keep it. Trot it out at Christmas parties. It’s the least I can do after you stepped in and helped me out."
"I did it to resurrect my career."
"Yeah, I know. And I have to admit," Dexter laughed, "it was entertaining to see you playing Santa. I bet you never thought you’d have to stoop so low."
"You know, a week ago, I would have agreed with you." Cole dropped the beard and hat onto the table in the center of the room, and unbuttoned the thick velvet coat. He took off the pillow stomach and put it on a chair. "But this has been a rewarding week."
Dexter chuckled. "Whatever. You don’t need to suck up to me. You already have the part. You’re a hell of an actor, Cole Benson. You always were. I just wanted to make you suffer a little before bringing you on board for my new movie."
The elation Cole had expected to feel didn’t fill his chest. Something akin to disappointment rocked him, and made him wonder if he was getting the flu. This was what he had worked for, what he had come to Massachusetts for. He’d sat in the chair and sweated in that suit for a week—
And now he had his dream again, restored as if he’d never had that moment at the party.
Dexter headed for the door. "Filming starts on Monday. See you back in L.A." He opened the door and gave Cole a grin. "Have a great holiday, Santa."
Cole stayed in the locker room for a long time, holding the Santa hat and wondering why getting everything he wanted for Christmas felt like such a disappointment.