North Pole Romance

I knocked on Michele’s door. Her eyes grew a little wider when she recognized me. “Nick?”

I tried to smile. “Hi.”

Her chuckle seemed nervous. “I wasn’t expecting you. What brings you here?” 

“Can I come in? I really need to talk to you.”

“Uh, okay.”

She led me to the couch and sat down next to me. 

“Nick, you look like you’re about to pass out. What’s wrong?”

***

I always spelled Klaus with a “K” instead of a “C”; despite that I still got teased all through school. Once I started college, it finally, mercifully, stopped.

I met Michele Santiago my junior year. I noticed her walking into Psych class. Angelic, like a vision, long hair flowing down, soft brown eyes, cinnamon skin aglow, laughing softly, I knew. She was the one. I stood, walked over and asked her out then and there, and to my immense relief, she said ‘yes.’

Michele was a finance major, but to me she didn’t seem the financial type. It just didn’t, well, fit her. But the two of us meshed like gears in a fine watch. There was just one small problem.

***

Now here I was. I hesitated, then knocked. There was Mom, looking not a single day older. “Nicky!”

She squeezed me in a hug and planted a kiss on my cheek. “It’s so good to see you! You know you don’t need to knock. Come in, come in.” 

We walked into the living room and she sat me on the couch, giving me one of her patented, wry smiles. “So, what’s going on that brings you up here so suddenly?”

“I need a reason to see you and Dad?”

Another knowing smile. Her head tilted and the right eyebrow went up like always. “Right. When I have to practically send your father in the sleigh after you to drag you up here once a year.” 

“Okay, I give up.” I looked at my lap. “I—I met this girl-“

“Oh Nick, that’s wonderful news.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Well, that’s why I had to see you and Dad. Where is he, by the way?” 

She waved a hand. “Oh, you know your father. Always busy, especially this time of year. He’ll be here in a moment.”

Dad came in. I stood and he gave me a big bear hug and tousled my hair. “Nick, my boy! It’s so great to see you! And what brings you up here?”

“Well…” I pulled the box out of my pocket and opened it.

Mom put her hands to her mouth. “Oh my goodness, Nick. What a beautiful ring!” 

“Well, it’s all I could afford, Mom…”

“You know it’s not the cost, it’s—”

“The thought,” I finished. 

She cocked her head. “Well, what’s the rest of it?”

“I haven’t asked her yet.”

Mom pursed her lips. “Mmhmm. Something else is going on.”

She knew me better than I knew myself. She placed her hand on my arm. “Nick, I didn’t believe your father at first when he told me either. My! I remember that carriage ride like it happened yesterday. The soft, falling snow, the gas lights glowing…” Her eyes glistened. “Well, in any event, just tell her. If she’s the one, she’ll come around. Just like I did, Nick.”

I sighed. “It’s not her I’m worried about.”

***

I offered my hand and she stared like it was a rattler ready to strike. I smiled and reached closer, expecting her to draw back, but she didn’t move. “Nick, you wanna do what?”

“Trust me. What I want to show you is on the roof.”

“The roof?”

I helped her into her coat. It didn’t take us long to get up there. I opened the door. “Here.”

Her face scrunched up. “A sleigh? Reindeer? Where did this come from?”

“My dad.”

“Huh?”

I sighed. “Santa Claus. He’s…my dad.”

She laughed and then abruptly stopped. “Nick, what are you talking about? I thought you were going to do the ‘there’s-no such thing as Santa’ thing!”

“Yes, yes there is. I’m Nicholas the tenth. Really.” I took her hands. “Michele, you used to believe. Till you were almost eight years old. I checked Dad’s records.”

“Your dad’s— You did what?” She shook her head and then held it in her hands as though our conversation was a dream, or maybe a nightmare. “This isn’t even real.”

“It is, I promise you, it is. Let me show you.” I reached up to touch her cheek. “Michele, I love you so much. And I want you to know the truth. You trust me, don’t you?” 

I jumped in and offered my hand. Michele reluctantly took it and sat next to me. I took the reins as the reindeer good-naturedly waited, all except for Prancer, who nickered — he always was the most impatient.

“Wait a minute. Nick, what are you doing?”

Well, here goes, I thought. “We’re going for a ride.”

“What?!” 

I yelled ‘hiya!’ and she screamed, “Nick! Wait!”

We took off. Her blood-curdling scream of terror turned to laughter as she realized we weren’t going to fall. “Oh my god! Nick! We’re flying!” I pulled up the blanket under the seat, and put it around her. She put her arms around me.

***

We landed at home and I helped her out of the sleigh while she gaped in utter astonishment. The elves surrounded us and chattered away as they led Michele to the house. We walked inside.

Mom and Dad were all decked out in their holiday finest, looking like an old-fashioned Christmas, Dad in his burgundy, fur-trimmed suit, his white beard neatly trimmed. Mom stood next to him, her hand in his, in a royal blue gown and cape. They looked, well, perfect. They both came up and gave us big hugs.

Dad smiled at her. “Yo le recuerdo! Una niña tan hermosa. I remember the time you woke up and found me putting your presents under the tree. You were four. Your hair was tied up into a braid. And you wanted to open them all then and there. Took me a lot of convincing to get you back to bed. Set me back a good hour. You don’t remember that, do you, my dear?”

Michele gasped. “I. I do. I always thought… it was a dream.”

Dad just chuckled. 

They gave her the tour, a grand journey through the workshop and house, and she peppered them both with questions as she beamed the entire time, her eyes wide. And my fear grew. I knew exactly what was happening-Michele was falling in love with the idea of becoming Mrs. Claus. 

***

After a magnificent dinner, which I didn’t eat much of, Mom and Dad gracefully withdrew to leave us alone. 

“Well. So, what do you think?”

“Are you kidding?” she gushed, “This-this is amazing. Oh, Nick! I’m so sorry I doubted you. Wow. Being Santa Claus must be the most wonderful job in the…” She trailed off as she saw my reaction, her smile fading. “Nick, what is it? What’s wrong?”

I took her hands. Mine were trembling. “Michele, I love you. I want to marry you. But I—I’m…I’m not sure about this.” 

Her face scrunched. “Nick, what are you… Wait. You, you want to marry me?” She shook her head. “Wait, Nick, this is getting to be too much for me. What is it you’re not sure about?”

I sighed. “My dad thinks it’s time for him to retire.”

Understanding quickly dawned on her face. “And he wants you to take over. That’s what this is about?”

I nodded and took a deep breath. Best just to say it. “I’m not so sure I want to be Santa, Michele. I just…”

“But Nick, why?”

“I just — I don’t think… Dad’s been such an amazing Santa. How could I compete with that? Besides, maybe that’s not what I want to do with my life.”

“Oh, Nick.” She pulled me to her, put her forehead against mine and softly stroked my cheek. “Don’t you know why I fell in love with you? I didn’t understand it completely until I met your parents, but I do now. Perfectly. Your kindness, your gentleness. Your giving nature.”

She gently pulled my face to hers and kissed me. “Yes, I’ll marry you. And you can become the next Santa or not, it’s up to you. But I have to tell you, Nick Claus, you’d make a terrific Santa.” 

What else could I do? I swept her up into my arms and gave her a huge kiss.

***

We were married on December 23rd; the 24th would be too busy, of course. The ceremony was in Michele’s church. Her parents and family all made it, despite the short notice, and Mom and Dad were there in ‘civilian’ clothes. I’ve never seen Mom look more beautiful. My bride was the only one outshining her. 

And on Christmas Eve, as husband and wife, Michele and I delivered presents, Michele bubbly and giggling the whole time. Mom and Dad officially retired to southern France. 

Hard to believe that was a whole year ago. My beard is finally growing in nicely, though it’s not white yet. There’ll be time for that though. 

Michele won’t be coming this year; at seven months pregnant it would be too much. We’re going to have a girl. We’ve decided to name her Noelle. And I’d be perfectly okay with a female Santa. After all this is the 21st century. Michele makes a terrific Mrs. Claus. 

All the elves love her. And so do I.

---

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