CHAPTER 8

 

CHAPTER 8

          Maggie and Spence both laughed as they exchanged their gifts. “Well, go on, open it.” He encouraged.

          Maggie ripped the paper open to find a small jewelry box. When she opened it, she found a small pin. It was gold with what she hoped were synthetic diamond stones that said, “#1.”

          “I saw that and had to get it for you because you’ve become the number one in my life. I don’t know how I managed before you became my EA. I’m so thankful for all that you do on a regular basis for both me and the company. I hope you like it.”

          Maggie’s index finger gently touched the pin. She raised tear-filled eyes and responded. “You have no idea how much this touches me. Thank you. Now, open your gift.”

          When Spence opened the envelope, he found a gift certificate for sailing lessons at the Mt. Baker Yacht Club. “I remember you once said that you’d love to learn how to sail and have a sailboat of your very own. I couldn’t get you the sailboat, but the lessons might lead to you having one. The gift also includes your EA scheduling those lessons for you.”

          It was the best gift Spencer had ever received. He had to clear the lump from his throat before he could say, “Thank you. This is so thoughtful."

          They stood there looking at each other, gifts in hand until Spence said, “Well, how about we have a little nightcap while the catering staff finish up. I could certainly use a shot of Macallen right about now.”

          Back in his office, Spence poured them both a couple fingers of scotch and they sat down in the comfy chairs on either side of the coffee table. They sipped and talked about the evening and their guests for a while. Maggie’s glass was almost empty when the catering captain knocked on the door and told them she was leaving, that everything had been squared away.

          After she left, Maddie emptied her glass and said, “Well, I’d best be getting myself home.” She stifled a huge yawn as she got up out of her chair.

          Spence got up as well and took her glass. In the process, their fingers touched and they both felt the zing. Maggie’s eyes widened as did Spence’s and she yanked her hand back. “Well, thanks for the lovely pin Spence, and I guess I’ll see you next year.” She laughed and continued, “Imagine, next year. It’s almost here.”

          As she was talking, she backed toward the closed office door. Before she could get there, Spence took one huge step and pulled her into his arms. Before she could think or protest, his mouth came down on hers and any thoughts she might have had completely disappeared.

          Spence kissed her as he backed her up against his office door. His tongue invaded her mouth, swirled around and as Maddie whimpered and wrapped her arms around his neck increased the kiss’ pressure.

          Maddie could feel Spence’s entire body against her. She could feel the swollen length of his cock. She knew that Spence had to be able to feel the hard nubs her nipples had become. Her own tongue was warring with his, and she felt as though she couldn’t possibly get close enough to him.

          Spence leaned into Maggie, pressed his swollen cock against her and managed to get one hand in between them so he could pull on her nipple. Again, she moaned and pressed herself against him. Spence’s fingers left her nipple and she desperately wanted them back. He reached down and pulled her leg up so it rested on his hip. Her skirt rose with her leg and his hand found its way to her panties, what there was of them. They were sopping wet and with a fierce moan of his own, he gave them a yank. They ripped free and he dropped them in order to press his hand on her hot and wet center. Without thinking, he rubbed and Maddie moaned louder and pushed against his hand. One of his fingers found her entrance and he pushed it inside. Maddie thought she was going to come that very second. He pulled it back and replaced it with two fingers, his thumb rubbed her clit. Maddie’s orgasm took her totally by surprise. Spence left his fingers inside her while his thumb gently caressed her clit until Maddie felt as though she was boneless. She was grateful Spence’s body pressed her so tightly against the door because she felt as though she’d fall if he moved away.

          Spence pulled his hand free and pulled Maggies other leg up so her legs now encircled his waist. Maggie could feel both his hands in the small space he made between them. She heard his zipper and within seconds, his cock was bobbing free. Without any direction, his cock found Maddie’s wet entrance and slid home with one huge thrust. Spence thought he was going to come that very second, but he held back only to feel Maddie’s vagina ripple around his cock. Once again, her arms encircled him and she directed his mouth to her bare nipple. As he thrust and sucked, she began making little moaning and whimpering sounds. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

          Spence forced himself to hold back when all he wanted to do was to slam himself into her as rapidly as possible. He slowly pulled out and then slowly pushed back. His hands on her butt cheeks squeezed and caressed. Maddie’s mouth was all over his face, neck. Her body pushed against his while she kept murmuring, “More, faster, more, faster.”

          Just when Spence didn’t think he could hold out much longer, Maddie whispered, “Now, please now, oh god, now.”  Spence pulled his cock out one last time and slammed himself home again, as his hands squeezed and pulled her violently against him. Spence’s orgasm totally stupefied both his mind and body. He’d never felt such a paroxysm of pleasure in his life. His orgasm seemed to last for an eternity. Later, he was never sure how long it had taken for him to return to the present.

Spence and Maggie were practically one body. Spence wasn’t sure he was going to be able to move. Maddie was totally limp against him. She felt sure that if he pulled away, she’d fall to the floor. He wasn’t sure his legs were going to support either himself or both of them if he tried to bend his knees.

          It seemed like forever, but it had to have been only seconds before they looked at each other. Maddie didn’t know what to say. Spence didn’t seem to know what to say either. Finally, Maddie more or less whispered, “Maybe you could let me down now.”

          “Oh, yes, of course. Sorry.” Spence responded, allowing her legs to slid down his partially clad legs. That also allowed his now tumescent cock to slip out. Spence felt like a fool and didn’t know what to say.

          “Um, uh, can you excuse me for a moment?” Maddie asked.

          “Sure.”

          With that, Maddie pushed him back so she could open the door. She closed it softly behind her. Without thinking, she grabbed her coat and purse and ran toward the elevator even as Spence’s cum trickled down her leg.

          “Oh God, just get me out of here. Oh my God, what have I done?” Maddie murmured to herself. She was so glad she’d driven to work that day. In the garage, she managed to pull herself together, but the tears that had begun as soon as the office door closed continued to cascade down her cheeks. All she wanted was to get home and burrow into her own bed. She wanted to forget the last half hour because it had the potential to absolutely fuck up her whole life. She laughed through her tears, “Got fucked and am so fucked.”

          Spence pulled his shorts and pants up and tucked his shirt in while he waited for Maddie to come back. He hadn’t intended this to happen, but now that it had, they were going to have to have a talk about their futures. He poured himself another couple fingers of scotch and sat down.

          Sitting there, he relived every single second of their mutually satisfying sex. It had been just as wonderful, just as sexy, just absolutely everything he’d always thought sex with the right woman would be. He couldn’t wait to tell Maddie that.

          Lost in his own thoughts, it was some time before Spence realized just how much time had passed. He went into the outer office and realized Maddie had just gone. Gone without saying goodbye. Gone without saying anything at all. Now, Spence felt very bad, as though he’d taken a huge advantage and yet he was positive Maddie  had orgasmed more than once and thoroughly enjoyed their intimacy.

          Well, he told himself, it wasn’t’ actually the stuff of which romance is made. Really Spence, fucking your EA up against the office door like some caveman. No wonder she ran off. You’ll probably be lucky if she shows up here on January 2^nd. You’ll be lucky if she’s willing to stay and train someone to take her place. You’ll be lucky if the cops don’t show up at your door Christmas Eve with a warrant for your arrest for rape.

          Still, no matter what, Spence was glad it had happened. Now, he could move forward with his desire to court Maggie, to see where their relationship could grow, maybe even to their getting married. He’d never felt like this about a woman in his life. One thing Spence knew and that was he had to have Maddie more than that one time. He had to have Maddie as part of his life, not just at the office, but away from the office. She was going to have to resign so they could be together.

RELEVATIONS???

          

 About twenty-five years ago, I had a revelation that I seriously wish had entered my life decades earlier. I realized it was my choice each and every morning as to how my day was going to progress. I could choose to make my lips turn up in a smile for each and every person I met that day, as well as myself, and respond to friendly inquiries with positive replies. Or I could choose to fret and worry most of my day and push people away with all that negativity. I now sometimes wonder how different my life might have been had I chosen the positive path rather than the negative which, in review seemed to have been my default setting for most of my life.

Now, I’m not saying I manage to make the positive choice every morning when I look in the mirror, but percentage-wise it has become my first choice no matter what is going on in my life. Even now, more than a couple decades later, I usually choose the positive path for my day and work very hard to be optimistic about everything.

Just recently, I had another revelation that I’m pondering and trying to decide how it does or will truly affect my life as I continue to age. That revelation has to do with the fact that no one, aside from my dog, relies on me for absolutely anything. Yes, I have family and friends, but their lives would continue whether or not mine would.

I’ve also found myself wondering about my available choices when complications and tribulations reach a point where they become overwhelming. When does that point arise? When will I need to make a choice as to whether I want to continue to slog through the days, weeks, moths, maybe even years ahead? How bad does the physical and/or emotional pain have to become before I want to wave the white flag of surrender. I won’t know the answer to that until I have that white flag in hand and who knows when that will occur.

Don’t ask me why I’m making this blog post. I have no idea. It’s simply something I began writing about several years ago and just found on my computer. Even though there’s nothing major on the horizon that would lead me to change how or where I’m living I feel what I wrote then is still relevant to me today…I guess that’s why.

WISHING I COULD TALK TO GRANDMA

           

Grandma passed away more than 45 years ago, and lately, I’ve been wishing she and I could have a good chat. I remember many things about my grandma, but now that I’m older, I so wish I’d actually made the time to sit with her, really listen to her stories and even take notes.

          Grandma was born in 1891 and she saw the world change in much the same way I’ve seen the world change in my time. For her, it was the ease of transportation, the ability to afford and obtain goods and services that weren’t available until she was in her forties. For me, it’s been the change in communication. Just by using my cell phone, I can talk to family on the other side of the country. Using my computer, I can look up my ancestors, order goods and services, keep track of my family and friends. Actually, I could undoubtedly do all of that with my cell phone as well, but I prefer my computer. There’s really no need to actually leave home or talk to anyone to stay in touch.

          Grandma was on her way to being an old maid at the age of twenty-two when my grandfather came calling. Girls in the hills of Tennessee were married young in those days and it was most likely the three fleshy moles on the right side of my grandma’s nose that kept the local young men from courting and marrying her…she could have been a witch (or so the story goes). My grandfather’s place was fifty miles or more from where Grandma lived. I wish I knew how he heard she was available, but the story is that he came courting in a suit he borrowed from his brother or someone else.

          Of course, Grandma didn’t refuse to marry him even though he was thirty-five years older. This was her chance to have a life as a married woman with a place of her own. I don’t think it turned out quite as expected because once she arrived at her new husband’s home, she discovered he’d already buried two wives who’d left eleven children for her to finish raising. That was in 1913 and by 1922, he’d given her another five children to care for and raise.

          Tax and census documents indicate grandpa was a sharecropper. It was hard scrabble farming in a Tennessee holler. In those days, you grew or made everything and your diet never ever included the four food groups on a daily basis. I know grandma raised chickens and pigs (There is an old photo of a pig being butchered with its guts falling out that fascinated me as a kid.), grew vegetables, gathered wild berries and nuts, and helped farm the land in that holler.

          By the time my mother was a teenager, my grandfather was more than seventy years old and had become bed ridden. So, in addition to doing the majority of the work around the place, grandma and my mother had to nurse, care for and change him on a daily basis. I know my mother’s four brothers still lived there, but I never heard any stories about how they helped with any of the work.

          Grandma never saw her family after she married because fifty miles was too far to go for a visit. She did eventually have contact with her youngest sister when they both lived in California. And, once she left Tennessee in 1946, she never returned, never saw her mother, father or her brothers and their families. It was as though that period of her life in Tennessee didn’t exist.

          Grandma left that rickety house and hard life with me and my mother. She rode a train for the first time which took them to Idaho where two of her sons were living. There, my mom met a man who became her husband and my daddy and Grandma lived with us. Her life improved some because we lived in a better house with indoor plumbing and electricity. I have fond memories of sleeping with Grandma, curled into her back with my nose pressed against her back where it met the mattress.

          Grandma’s first plane experience took her away from me. She’d been a given in my life since birth and I missed her so very much. I didn’t understand why she had to move to California to her son’s home until I was older and realized from various comments and stories that Grandma had been causing  problems in my parents’ marriage. She was so grateful to daddy for keeping her that no matter what problem/argument arose, she sided with daddy…mommy was never right. There may have been more to it than that, but I never learned anything else.

          You would have thought Grandma a very modern woman. She took to flying between southern California and Washington as though it were nothing. She came home for my high school graduation and my wedding. And when both uncles passed away, she flew back to Washington for the last time.  Rather than living with mom and dad or John and I, she had her own little place just across the valley from where I lived.

          I’m now as old as she was then and understand so much better how her life must have been. I regret I wasn’t old enough or wise enough to understand how limited her life had become. True, she made a few new friends in the complex and mom and dad took her grocery shopping and to the doctor, but her life was pretty much lived in her small apartment…she must have been very lonely and I wish I had realized that at the time.

          Grandma would call to chat, and being a busy wife and mom, I really didn’t want to take the time and/or resented the need to spend that time listening to her stories (repeated more than once) about her early life. Even when I was responsible for doing the grocery shopping or doctor duty, I think I rather resented the need for me to do so.

          Now, of course, as I said above, I’m her age and in some ways, my life is a bit like hers. True, I still drive myself wherever I need to go. I have a circle of friends with whom I spend time. I’ve remained in my house which is a blessing or a curse, depending on the day and what’s happening. I have more money than Grandma did, but like her, I don’t feel comfortable spending way beyond my means.  I’m also involved in exercise classes and my driftwood classes out side the home. This gives me access to a larger number of people than my grandma had access to because she didn’t drive.

          Then there’s communication. I talk to the eldest son once a week and rely on him when I have needs I cannot manage on my own, i.e., cataract surgery transportation. Younger son calls every now and then but doesn’t offer any kind of assistance. Aside from my regular friends and the people I see in class, I rarely talk to one of the neighbors (and I’ve been here fifty-seven years). My phone rarely rings or buzzes with a text. I guess you could say I’m a bit lonely…just like Grandma had to have been.

          I think that’s why I wish I could have more conversations with Grandma. I have a lot of questions to which she could supply answers. I’d love to know more about how she felt when she realized she was the third bride? How did she manage to help raise eleven other children while birthing five of her own. Did she feel loved? Did she enjoy sex? Just how grateful was she in her later years to have the advantage of electric stoves, refrigerators, television, phones? Finally, I guess I’d really like to know if she realized I did really love her even though some of my actions and responses didn’t exactly shout, “I love you.”

          More than anything though, I think I’d like to know if what I’m feeling at my age is what Grandma felt. Even though I’m way more busy and active than Grandma was, is my sense of loneliness, being forgotten, feeling needy without recourse, wishing for the ability to have some do-overs in my life how she felt some days.

          I’m so sorry I wasn’t wise enough to reach out across the valley that separated us way back then to spend time with Grandma and learn the answers to the questions I didn’t even know I had then. I wonder if everyone has regrets like this. If at some point when my kids reach this age, perhaps they’ll read what I’ve written over the years and find answers to their questions…if they have any.

COMMERCIALS

 

It’s not possible for me to know just how much television you, dear reader, watch. I can only report on or talk about what me, myself and I watch. Since I read far more than I watch, my watching habits tend to be directed more toward old programs rather than new ones on Netflix or Prime, the only two pay-to-watch channels to which I subscribe. I also rarely watch TV during the day and generally for a brief time after I get in bed because I set the timer which usually goes off after I fall asleep.

          I’ve been noticing for some time that the majority of the commercials I see in the evening have to do with the new WP-1 drugs, i.e., Wegovy, Jardiance, etc. It makes me wonder if the pharmaceutical companies choose these times in order to reach the greater majority of overweight Americans.

Another popular one in the evening seems to be for a site that sells some kind of self-defense weapon guaranteed to stop that bad guy when he’s sixty feet away. All this is discussed while the actor carries and eats a banana, i.e., “I’m not afraid of that guy because I’ve got my banana.” I have no idea what product they are advertising because I haven’t visited the site that sells it.

Just this morning, feeling extremely tired, I began my day by watching Leave it to Beaver and Perry mason before getting out of bed. I followed that up with a latte and sweet roll while I watched Matlock. Again, the advertising seemed to be directed to the older population, probably because most folks who aren’t in need of Medicare are off at work. All the commercials seemed to be for one or another organization that offers a Medicare Advantage plan. Some seem to offer dental, vision and other aspects of health care.

All this commercial viewing leaves me wondering if there are other commercials directed toward the younger folks out there. I guess I’ll need to change my viewing habits, or extend the time periods, in order to find out. But, do I really want to or care…nope.

HAD TO SHARE THIS

In making an attempt to clean up my hard drive, i came across the essay I've posted below. I saved this back in 2019 and even though I tried to find out who this woman was, there were too many choices, so I'm simply giving her credit for her words of wisdom. 

 By Dominique Browning

There is a lot that is annoying, and even terrible, about aging. The creakiness of the body; the drifting of the memory; the reprising of personal history ad nauseam, with only yourself to listen.

But there is also something profoundly liberating about aging: an attitude, one that comes hard won. Only when you hit 60 can you begin to say, with great aplomb: “I’m too old for this.”

This line is about to become my personal mantra. I have been rehearsing it vigorously, amazed at how amply I now shrug off annoyances that once would have knocked me off my perch.

A younger woman advised me that “old” may be the wrong word, that I should consider I’m too wise for this, or too smart. But old is the word I want. I’ve earned it.

And let’s just start with being an older woman, shall we? Let others feel bad about their chicken wings — and their bottoms, their necks and their multitude of creases and wrinkles. I’m too old for this. I spent years, starting before I was a teenager, feeling insecure about my looks.

No feature was spared. My hairline: Why did I have to have a widow’s peak, at 10? My toes: too short. My entire body: too fat, and once, even, in the depths of heartbreak, much too thin. Nothing felt right. Well, O.K., I appreciated my ankles. But that’s about it.

What torture we inflict upon ourselves. If we don’t whip ourselves into loathing, then mean girls, hidden like trolls under every one of life’s bridges, will do it for us.

Even the vogue for strange-looking models is little comfort; those women look perfectly, beautifully strange, in a way that no one else does. Otherwise we would all be modeling.

One day recently I emptied out an old trunk. It had been locked for years; I had lost the key and forgotten what was in there. But, curiosity getting the best of me on a rainy afternoon, I managed to pry it open with a screwdriver.

It was full of photographs. There I was, ages 4 to 40. And I saw for the first time that even when I was in the depths of despair about my looks, I had been beautiful.

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And there were all my friends; girls and women with whom I had commiserated countless times about hair, weight, all of it, doling out sympathy and praise, just as I expected it heaped upon me: beautiful, too. We were, we are, all beautiful. Just like our mothers told us, or should have. (Ahem.)

Those smiles, radiant with youth, twinkled out of the past, reminding me of the smiles I know today, radiant with strength.

Young(er) women, take this to heart: Why waste time and energy on insecurity? I have no doubt that when I’m 80 I’ll look at pictures of myself when I was 60 and think how young I was then, how filled with joy and beauty.

I’m happy to have a body that is healthy, that gets me where I want to go, that maybe sags and complains, but hangs in there. So maybe I’m too old for skintight jeans, too old for six-inch stilettos, too old for tattoos and too old for green hair.

Weight gain? Simply move to the looser end of the wardrobe, and stop hanging with Ben and Jerry. No big deal. Nothing to lose sleep over. Anyway, I’m too old for sleep, or so it seems most nights.

Which leaves me a bit cranky in the daytime, so it is a good thing I can now work from home. Office politics? Sexism? I’ve seen it all. Watching men make more money, doing less work. Reading the tea leaves as positions shuffle, listening to the kowtow and mumble of stifled resentment.

I want to tell my younger colleagues that it doesn’t matter. Except the sexism, which, like poison ivy, is deep-rooted: You weed the rampant stuff, but it pops up again.

What matters most is the work. Does it give you pleasure, or hope? Does it sustain your soul? My work as a climate activist is the hardest and most fascinating I’ve ever done. I’m too old for the dark forces, for hopelessness and despair. If everyone just kept their eyes on the ball, and followed through each swing, we’d all be more productive, and not just on the golf course.

The key to life is resilience, and I’m old enough to make such a bald statement. We will always be knocked down. It’s the getting up that counts. By the time you reach upper middle age, you have started over, and over again.

And, I might add, resilience is the key to feeling 15 again. Which is actually how I feel most of the time.

But I am too old to try to change people. By now I’ve learned, the very hard way, that what you see in someone at the beginning is what you get forevermore. Most of us are receptive to a bit of behavior modification. But through decades of listening to people complain about marriages or lovers, I hear the same refrains.

I have come to realize that there is comfort in the predictability, even the ritualization, of relationship problems. They become a dance step; each partner can twirl through familiar moves, and do-si-do until the music stops.

Toxic people? Sour, spoiled people? I’m simply walking away; I have little fight left in me. It’s easier all around to accept that friendships have ebbs and flows, and indeed, there’s something quite beautiful about the organic nature of love.

I used to think that one didn’t make friends as one got older, but I’ve learned that the opposite happens. Sometimes, unaccountably, a new person walks into your life, and you find you are never too old to love again. And again. (See resilience.)

GROWING OLD....

 

While searching through my Word files, I came across the quote below which was sent to me by a friend back in 2012. I probably should have printed it ouot in a very large font and posted it in various places around my house. I didn’t do than then and probably won’t do it now, but it just goes to show that it’s all in how you look at yourself. My friend saw me in this and I’m going to take it to heart and concentrate on working harder to remain that “one bitchin’ hot fabulous babe” today and every day. You, dear reader, are welcome to give it a try right along with me.

 

“Growing old is privilege not everyone enjoys, wisdom is a gift that isn't always bestowed, and, besides, you're still one bitchin' hot fabulous babe and don't let anybody tell you different! Put THAT on your @#S##@! Medicare forms.”

SORRY IT'S A DAY LATE...CHAPTER 7

 

Chapter 7

          Maddie had begun working for Spencer just a couple months before the holidays the previous year. She found it hard to believe that she’d already reached and passed her one-year anniversary. She also found it hard to believe that she and Spence hadn’t become better acquainted. No matter what kind of overture Maddie made, he almost always found a way to refuse the invitation or spend whatever time they had together to focus solely on business. Maddie was sure if she was questioned about any of Spence’s favorites, she’d be unable to name more than one or two.

          Spence noted when Maddie’s anniversary rolled around and had flowers sent to her desk which was really no different than what he normally did for his company’s staff. He was responsible for every single hire and so knew everyone who worked for the company. Recognizing each person’s contributions did, he knew, go a long way toward ensuring stability and loyalty. Plus, in almost every case, he genuinely liked the individuals who worked for him.

          As he had done from the very beginning, Spencer began planning the holiday fest the beginning of November. Each year, the holiday party included not only staff, but the staff’s wives, husbands, significant others and children. Santa (Spence in a Santa suit) always attended and handed out gifts to every single person, child and adult. Spence had always tried to give a gift that the recipient could and would enjoy.

Spence did most of his planning on his computer to which Maddie had access. All the documents were under the file name, “holiday plans.doc.” He didn’t invite Maddie to assist him, but somehow, without an invitation, Maddie entered his office one morning with her own holiday plans file. She sat down and said, “Last year I was too new to help with your planning. This year, I believe I know our staff members almost as well as you do. I want to help organize this event.”

Spence was a bit irritated. This was something he’d always done on his own, not even having Maddie’s predecessors help. He gave Maddie a brief smile and said, “There’s no need for you to take that on. I’ve always managed alone, so you don’t need to worry about the holiday opart.”

“I figured you’d say something like that so I came prepared. I reviewed the plans you’ve made so far and prepared some additions and/or suggestions.” Maddie replied, standing and holding out the file in her hand. “Just take a look and feel free to adopt anything I’ve listed there, or totally ignore if that’s your decision.”

Surprised, Spence found himself reaching for the file and actually thanking Maddie. He watched as she turned and walked toward the door, once again struck by the sight of her nice bottom in the tailored pants she wore.

The door closed softly and Spence shook his head, telling himself once again to ignore the attraction he felt. He opened the folder and perused the pages of information there. To say Maddie knew the staff as well as he did wouldn’t have been an overstatement. As a result, she’d offered some genuinely good ideas and Spence knew he’d be a total fool to ignore the information she’d provided.

Over the next month Maddie and Spence worked closely together on the holiday fest. Many of her ideas were incorporated or added to those Spence had already noted. Spence attempted to keep their relationship totally business oriented, but Maddie had a way of getting him to talk about himself without seeming to pry. After each time they spent planning the event, Spence wanted to kick himself for responding or simply reach out and do what he so strongly desired to do.

Spence never talked about his childhood or his parents. Most of the people who knew him wouldn’t have been able to supply much information about his early years. His life seemed to begin when he went to university. During one of their holiday meetings, Maddie managed to get him to talk about why the holiday plans for staff were so important.

“Christmases while I was growing up were a nonevent after my grandma died. She lived with us until I was in kindergarten and was the one that took care of me. Once she died, Christmas became just another excuse for my parents to get drunk and fight like two wild dogs in heat. We never had a Christmas tree, stockings or presents after grandma died. She protected me from my parents and afterwards, I couldn’t understand why I didn’t have a good mom and dad. As I grew up, I came to the realization my parents were simply unable to care or show affection. It was only because of those first years and later through the few friends I made that I knew what the holidays should be. I was determined that someday I’d have Christmases like those again.” Spence had spoken softly as he gazed out the big window toward the glittering lights below. He then shook his head and added, “I have no idea why I just told you all that. It’s been years since I’ve thought about my childhood.”

“I believe you’ve taken all those difficult memories and chosen to make sure the Christmases of those you care about are wonderful. Last year, I was simply a participant, or observer, but I could see how much joy the party gave you. Not only that, I could see how delighted your staff and their families were with the gifts and the event. It could have been a totally different occasion if you hadn’t been so sincere. Every single person there, whether staff, a family member or child could see that and it made your gifts, not only those wrapped, but the gift of time and attention all that more meaningful.” Maddie responded, as she tried to hold back the tears his sharing had brought to her eyes.

“Yes, well, the next time I decide to take a trip down bad memory lane, please step in and stop me. I can’t stand talking about or thinking about those times.”

“Are your parents still alive?”

“No, they both died while I was in college. No surprise it was due to all the alcohol they drank. Anyway, enough. Let’s finalize these plans.”

Regardless of Spence’s words, Maddie could see the small child that still inhabited this injured man. She desperately wanted to hug him tight and tell him what a wonderful human he’d grown into all on his own. She knew that would have been both inappropriate and dangerous, so she simply responded, “Okay, we’ve finished with the tree and the menu. I think one last review of the gift list and I can go ahead and order everything. We’ve not a lot of time left to get everything here and wrapped.”

Spence turned his attention to the lists before him, wondering why on earth he’d been so open about his childhood. True, he didn’t mention the beatings, the hunger that gnawed at his tummy some nights or the many other difficulties he’d had to surmount during that time, and he wouldn’t. Not ever, he promised himself. He shook his head and reminded himself this was another reason to avoid alone time with Maddie. She had the gift of teasing out information without it seeming like she was prying. Spence determined he wasn’t going to share anything further with her because that could and most likely would lead to their becoming closer and he couldn’t have that.

The day of the holiday party finally arrived. Maddie and some of the staff had spent the day before and even into the evening decorating the firm’s offices. She was excited to be fully a part of this year’s celebration and couldn’t wait to see her fellow employees and their families enjoy the event. She also wished she had a significant other she could have invited to share the joy with her.

Still, Maggie was determined to have fun. She’d enjoyed herself last year when she didn’t know as many people as she did now. But this year’s party was going to be ever so much more fun because she’d helped with the planning, gift purchasing and because she knew everyone and would be helping Spence, who was playing Santa, pass out the packages. Maddie thought it just might end up being the best Christmas party she’d ever attended.

Maggie had also been careful about imbibing much in the way of holiday spirits. This year, she felt she could probably partake just a bit more of the fancy eggnog that seemed to pack a wallop if you weren’t careful. Maggie also knew she wouldn’t drink all that much because she was going to be Santa’s helper and she had dressed accordingly.

The Holiday Party was a dress-up event, not tuxes and fancy gowns, but fun Christmas attire. Maddie had looked high and low for something she really liked that wasn’t too terribly kitchy. She’d finally found an oversized bright red sweater with a laughing grinch on the front with the grinch’s behind on the back. The edge of the hat, eyebrows and tail were all fluffy material of some kind with the hat a deeper red. The nose was red sequins and the tip of one tooth was a diamond like stone. Quite tacky in some ways, but very fun.

Maddie completed her outfit with a skirt that hugged her hips then flared out over the top of her tall black boots. Her only accessories were dangly red earrings and a broad red clip that held her hair back and let it cascade down her back.  A grinchy hat completed the ensemble.

Following her ritual bath, Maddie donned the red skimpy undies and bra she’d purchased to wear beneath the sweater and skirt. Only she would know they were there. Completely dressed, including the hat, Maddie stared at herself in the tall mirror and had to admit she thought she looked great. Not only that, she felt attractive, excited and just a bit naughty due to her fancy underwear.

As planned, Maddie arrived early and found Spence already in his Santa suit, but without the beard. He hadn’t added any padding because he wanted the kids to know it was him, not the real Santa who was busy at the North Pole getting ready for Christmas Eve. Maddie walked around him and said, “You just might need that padding if you have all the kids sit on your lap. Some of them will have very bony butts.”

Spence laughed and responded, “Well, that’s what I’ll get for being Santa.” He sat down in the Santa chair they’d prepared and continued, “Want to give it a try?”

It was all Maddie could do to keep from throwing herself onto Spence’s lap, but responded with, “Thanks for the generous offer, but I’m afraid my butt’s not nearly bony enough to give you the proper experience.”  She laughed and turned away, trying not to blush.

Following a quick check on the caterers, the Christmas tree piled with presents and the adult and kids’ bars, it was time for the party to begin. Through the doors came the company’s employees and their families. It wasn’t long before the rooms rang with voices, laughter, the odors of good food and the excitement of everyone having a wonderful time.

The noise level rose and then rose again when Santa began calling out names from his perch by the tree. Maddie did her part, handing off the gifts or delivering them to the kids too shy to come forward. Soon, the sound of ripping paper, exclamations of joy and awe filled the room and added to the noise level.

Maddie had a wonderful time assisting Santa Spence with the gift-giving. She was thoroughly delighted with the children’s excitement and pleasure at the gifts they received. She especially delighted in how the employees and their partners were also immensely pleased with the gifts she and Spence had chosen. It was the best Christmas party Maddie had ever experienced.

Santa Spence thoroughly enjoyed his role. Maddie brought each child to him for a very brief greeting and handed him the gift destined for each one. Some were very shy and others greeted him like a favorite uncle. Even though Spence was busy, he had to make a huge effort to keep his attention on the child or children in his lap. Maddie drew his eye again and again. And even as each child claimed his attention, he remained aware of Maddie’s presence and her activities. As she brought another small tot to him, he imagined her as a mother and thought she’d be absolutely excellent in the role.

Maddie rejoiced in her role as Santa’s helper. She gave no thought to how her skirt became a bit shorter as she leaned down to pick up a little one or reached for a present that was almost out of reach. She wasn’t aware that tendrils of her hair had come loose from the clip, giving her laughing face a more sensuous look. She also wasn’t conscious of her laughter ringing out again and again or how it made the people around her want to laugh as well.

Still, Maddie was also very aware of Spencer, of how he treated each and every child in a solemn but teasing manner, of how even with the most shy, he managed to find something that made the little one relax. She found herself thinking he’d make a great father one day. She also found herself wondering what it would be like to sit on his lap and be the sole focus of his attention. She also knew that the likelihood of her ever knowing that was very unlikely.

At one point, while Santa was tending to the teenagers, Maddie took a moment and watched him. He was talking and laughing and appeared to be having a wonderful time. It looked as though he actually blushed when one of the young girls, delighted with her gift, gave him a huge hug. She felt as though it was that young boy who’d lacked so much at his own Christmases who was really enjoying the event.

Spencer, for his part, didn’t spend a lot of time watching Maddie. He felt as though he was just asking for trouble if he did that. Still, the swirl of her skirt, the click of her boots on the hardwood, her laughing voice as she engaged with her fellow employees drew his eye more than once. She seemed so relaxed and seemed to fit in so well with everyone that attended. He thought she probably had a gift for making friends, no matter who they might have been.

At one point, presents handed out, Maddie got down on the floor with a toddler who was having a melt-down. Tanya, the child’s mother, told her she didn’t need to do that, that it was past Suzy’s bedtime and she was overstimulated. Spence saw Maddie wave her hand at the mom while saying, “Hey, it’s okay little one. Here, snuggle up with me and we’ll have a little quiet time.” Maddie appeared to begin to hum while her hand moved slowly up and down the child’s back. It was barely moments before the child sagged against her chest, eyes closing. Spence wondered what Maddie would be like with her own child, then wondered why that thought popped into his head.

Not long after, people began to leave. Maggie surrendered Suzy to her dad and with Spence on one side of the door and her on the other, they thanked their employees for coming and helping make the event great and wishing each and everyone of them a “Merry Christmas.”

When the door closed behind the last person, Maddie stretched and said, “Maybe you were right about being exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“Well, we’re not quite finished. There’s one more gift and it has your name on it.” Spence said, going behind the Christmas tree and pulling out a small gift-wrapped package.

“No, I guess we aren’t finished,” Maggie responded. “I’ll be right back.”

Maggie returned quickly with an envelope in her hand. “This is for you Spence.”

“And, this is for you Maggie.” Spence replied.