J.T. Marie - I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus

I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus

By J.T. Marie

Published by Queerteen Press

Visit queerteen-press.com for more information.

Copyright 2014 J.T. Marie

ISBN 9781611527421

Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the authors imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America. Queerteen Press is an imprint of JMS Books LLC.

* * * *

I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus

By J.T. Marie

It has to be close to midnight when my little brother Alex wakes me up on Christmas Eve. He went to bed hours ago, and it seems like I just turned out my light and closed my eyes when I feel him tugging on my covers. Brandy? he asks in a loud whisper.

I squeeze my eyes shut and say nothing. Maybe if I ignore him, hell think Im still asleep and go back to bed. Even though I dont know what time it is, I know its too early to be up. If our dads hear us

Alexs small hands pat their way up the side of my bed, following my legs beneath the sheets. Brandy? Are you awake?

How no one else can hear him is a mystery to me. No, I grumble, rolling over to turn my back to him. Youre in the wrong room.

Brandy, listen, he starts.

But I pull the covers up over my shoulder and tuck them under my chin. Go back to bed, I tell him. If Daddy hears you, then he wont let us open any presents until after breakfast. Dont ruin Christmas for me, you hear?

Alex is right behind me now, leaning heavily onto the bed so he can breathe against the back of my neck. No, listen , he says, his voice low and urgent. I had to pee

Thanks for the news flash, I mutter, pulling the blanket over my head. What do you want me to do about it? Post it on Facebook?

A small fist pounds me between the shoulder blades, the punch muffled by my covers. Listen , he says again. You never listen to me.

Youre talking about using the bathroom, and Im trying to sleep. I scoot over a little to try to get out of reach, but there isnt much room in my narrow twin bed. Any farther and Ill roll off the other side and plop onto the floor. Just go back to bed, will you, Alex? As long as youre awake, Santa cant come and give you any presents, so

Thats just it! he cries, triumphant.

I half-sit up in bed. Shh! Not so loud!

He clamps both hands over his mouth, his eyes wide in the faint glow coming in through my open door from the nightlight in the hallway. Hes already here, Alex says through splayed fingers, his voice quieter than before. His eyes twinkle with mirth.

I roll onto my back, propped up on both elbows now, and frown at my brother. Whos here?

Santa.

The word is whispered with awe, and his eyes threaten to pop right out of his head. I can almost feel him vibrating with excitement, and as I watch, he does a little dance that jiggles the bed.

Santa, here, I think, shaking the disheveled hair out of my face. Yeah, right .

Alex, I say with a sigh, look, you need to get to bed

Its really him! my brother insists. I saw him, out in the living room, putting our presents under the tree! He ate the cookies I left out for him! He took the drawing I did! Hes out there with Daddy right now.

Suddenly I get it. Are you sure you didnt just see Daddy and Papa? I ask. Theyre probably both still awake. You know how Papa raved about your cookies earlier when you made them. He ate most of the first batch himself.

No! Alex cries, striking the bed with both tiny fists.

Shh! I remind him. I throw a quick glance at the bedroom door, but no one hollers down the hall to tell us to get to bed, so hopefully his voice didnt carry to the living room. What are you trying to do, get us in trouble?

Its Santa, I know it, Alex insists. I saw him!

Please, I say, falling back to the pillow, dismissing him. Santa isnt

Real , I almost finish, but I cut myself off before I let it slip. Still, Alex leans onto the bed and stares at me in the darkened bedroom. Isnt what? he wants to know. I shake my head, refusing to answer, which only makes him madder. Isnt what ? Brandy? What?

But I promised our dads I wouldnt be the one to tell him, so I clamp my lips together. When I do finally speak, all I say is, Go back to bed, will you?

To my surprise, Alex grabs my arm. Come see for yourself.

What? No. I try to shrug him off, but he clings to me like a leech. Alex, no. Let go.

Come see, he says again, tugging me towards the edge of the bed. One look, thats it, and youll see Im right. Then Ill go to bed.

I sigh, exasperated. What if I say no?

He grins, his white teeth flashing in the darkness. Then Ill stay here all night with you instead. I brought my DS

I thought you went to the bathroom, I point out.

I took it with me, he replies. I can play it in here just as easily as I can play it in my own room. Im not going to be able to sleep tonight anyway. Santas here! Come see!

With a groan, I let him pull me out of bed. Just a quick look, but if it isnt Santa at all and Im right, then you have to be my slave for the whole day.

On Christmas? Alex moans.

I can hear the disappointment in his voice. The day after, I concede. But all day long.

And what if it really is Santa? he asks. What do I get from you if Im right?

Respect, I tell him, shrugging my long hair over my shoulder.

Is that all? he grouses.

All day long, I add. Isnt that enough?

* * * *

Ive known the truth about Santa Claus since I was ten.

I mean, I sort of already kind of knew. Hello, I go to school; Ive heard other kids talk about it. Opinions among my friends ran from of course hes real, but he only gives gifts to really poor kids whose parents cant get them anything, to who really believes a fat guy sneaks into your house at night without anyone hearing him just to leave presents under the tree? Our house doesnt even have a fireplace, so hows he even get inside? And I know for a fact that either Daddy or Papa sets the burglar alarm every night before going to bed, because theyve told Alex and me time and again not to go sneaking into the living room after midnight or well set it off. If we get thirsty in the night, we have to get a drink from the bathroom that separates our bedrooms, and we cant even go out in the hall, just in case the nightlight throws our shadows down where the sensor can pick them up.

So how does Santa do it?

Well, as I found out two years ago, he doesnt.

I had my doubts, like I said, but I kept them to myself. For one thing, Alex is four years younger than me, and even if my faith in the jolly old elf was beginning to crumble, I didnt want to ruin things for my little brother. For another thing, Im not stupid. If Daddy and Papa are the ones really buying me presents for Christmas and pretending theyre from Santa, then what happens if I admit I know he isnt real? The presents stop coming, thats what. And I may almost be a teenager, but Im not quite ready yet to give up getting free gifts.