Santa Monicaby Jennifer Brock A single mother about to spend her first Christmas alone receives the gift she needed most from an unusual Kris Kringle, who opens her heart and her mind to new possibilities.

All of Alison's friends in the Moms' Group had been raving about the Santa Claus at Rutherford's department store downtown. They said he was the most authentic they'd ever seen; you'd swear you were up at the North Pole. Going to see Santa was the only Christmas thing she was going to get to do with Zachary so she was determined to take him to the best Santa around, even though the merchandise at Rutherford's was generally too pricey for her budget.

She wasn't used to driving in that neighborhood, and a few obnoxious drivers decided that she was taking a little too long to find her turn, and demonstrated their horns for her. One total bitch even flashed the finger at Alison; she either hadn't noticed Zachary in the back seat, or just plain didn't care about showing a five-year-old a rude gesture. And when Alison finally found the entrance to the parking garage, she had to drive for what seemed like miles before she could see an available space. It was such a tight fit for her minivan, she had to crawl across and get out on the passenger side.

She then had to struggle with getting her purse and Zachary's backpack while keeping him from either wandering off or unzipping his jacket. She tried not to let how horrible her day was going show on her face; she really couldn't have dealt with one of Zachary's moods. She locked up the car and took his hand in hers and plastered a smile on her face.

It took a little wandering (and a couple moments of panic when they almost got run over) to find the elevator that would take them to the store. Alison hoped this Santa would be worth all the trouble it was taking. Once inside Rutherford's, her mood lightened. It was warmer without being uncomfortably hot, Soft Christmas carols were playing from a loudspeaker, and there was a faint aroma of evergreen. It definitely lifted her holiday spirits.

The store actually had a uniformed doorman who welcomed her. She asked for directions to Santa Claus and he pointed her toward the escalators and said to go up to the third floor. They went past racks of fancy clothes and Zachary was almost more excited about looking at all the people than he was about Santa. On the second floor they had to walk all the way around to the next escalator through some more departments. It was brilliant planning on the part of the store, but annoying to experience.

When they arrived at the third floor, there were a bunch of cute little signs pointing the way to "Santaland" with candy-cane-striped arrows on them. They had to wend their way through linens and housewares before they saw the huge archway that announced the toy department. Velvet ropes marked a long line that doubled back on itself a number of times. Children were standing with their parents, their eyes full of wonder and hope.

Alison looked across to the raised platform where Santa Claus was seated on his big chair. He was everything you'd expect: large and fat without seeming grossly obese, well-groomed whiskers that didn't look like fake white polyester, a red suit that wasn't garishly bright velvet and might have been trimmed with real fur, and he accessorized with what looked like real leather boots and a matching belt. Zachary's eyes were wide and he pointed and waved at his hero. To Alison's surprise, Santa waved back and seemed to even make eye contact.

Two impossibly cheerful, impossibly thin young girls in ridiculous green mini-dresses with jingle bells along the hem were waiting at the end of the line to sell photos and hand out candy canes, but it was Santa himself who kept the line in order. Every so often, he'd come forward off his throne and address the impatient kids. Sometimes he'd remind them that everyone knows he isn't very fond of naughty children, and warn that anybody acting rude would get sent to the back of the line, but usually he'd just be friendly with the kids and lead them in singing a Christmas song, or tell them a silly Christmas riddle, in general helping the anxious ones calm down. Behind the beard, Alison could tell that Santa had a very disarming smile.

They only had one more section of line to go when her phone rang. Kyle was checking up on her, she had to say that things were running late and just like when they were married he had a way of making her feel guilty and inadequate. She told Kyle that she and Zachary were still at Rutherford's and he hadn't quite gotten his turn with Santa yet. Kyle decided that they'd change the meet point, and he'd come to them. She had to suppress a tear when she snapped her phone shut. Zachary didn't need to see that.

She'd put off telling him, but here in Santaland seemed like the best place. She bent her knees and got down to Zachary's level. "Honey, after you see Santa, I've got another surprise for you!" She thought back to her high school pep squad days and did her best to fake enthusiasm. "Daddy's coming here to meet us, and he's going to take you on a trip for two whole weeks at Nana and Pop-pop's! You'll get to have Christmas with Aunt Mary and Silly Uncle Louie and Aunt Bridget and Uncle Oscar and all the cousins — won't that be fun?" She held up his backpack. "Don't worry. You've got Fuzzy Bear and your favorite PJ's and Dumpy Truck in here, so they'll be able to come with you. I'm sure Daddy's packed a suitcase for you with the clothes that you keep at his place, but I know there are some things you just can't go without for that long." She couldn't stop from sniffling.

Her baby looked at her with his big brown eyes. "Why are you sad, Mommy? You like it at Nana's. You'll have a lot of fun with us."

She gave him a hug. "I'm sorry, Sweetie, but I can't go with you. Just like Daddy and I don't live in the same house any more, we don't take vacations together. This will just be you and Daddy." She sighed, and then added, "And probably Megan too, I suppose. Your Dad's been seeing her for quite a while now." She wiped her nose again. "Yes, I am going to miss you, but I'm sure you'll have a good time with all those relatives you haven't seen in a while." Someone behind her politely cleared her throat and Alison noticed the line was moving and stood up. She took a tissue from her purse and dabbed the corners of her eyes.

A few minutes later she heard off to the side an all-too familiar voice calling out, "Hi, Zach!" It was Her.

Alison turned to look at the redheaded sexpot that had been keeping her ex company. She nudged Zachary to wave back at her. Through clenched teeth and her best keep-shaking-those-pompoms-even-though-you-sprained-your-ankle smile, she politely said, "Hello, Megan."

The bimbo misinterpreted her common courtesy as an invitation, and violated Universal Velvet Rope Policy by unhooking the ropes and stepping through as she cut her way to their spot, ignoring the glares of all the parents who didn't want their children learning how to shirk the rules. Alison tried to shrug apologetically at them, as if they'd realize it wasn't her idea.

Megan greeted Zachary with a pat on the head, as though he were a puppy, and then gave Alison a dreadful little hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Allie. Kyle thought it would be easier to stay with the car, so he sent me up to get Zach."

Alison just nodded, and handed Megan the backpack. She said, "Here's Zachary's stuff," emphasizing his full name, but she was sure the dumb girl would continue to abbreviate it.

It was finally Zachary's turn to go sit on Santa's lap. She stood back and smiled broadly at her little angel as he whispered his Christmas wishes into Santa's ear. Megan pulled out her wallet and asked the "elf" if she could print two copies of the picture. Megan then leaned over and whispered her own secret to Alison. She said that she'd overheard Kyle on the phone and thought he was planning to propose to her, and that's why he was taking her to meet his family. Alison did her best to hold it in, but she did shed a few tears when she gave Zachary a goodbye hug before his possible future stepmother led him off to where his father was waiting.

She took a moment and leaned on the elf girl's table until her legs stopped feeling like rubber. Santa held up his hand and gestured to the next child in line to wait, and then came off his stage and walked over to her. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and there was something about just getting simple human contact that she just turned and held onto him and cried into his shoulder.

Santa looked over at the kids in the line. "Give us a minute, okay? This lady's having a bad day." Then he addressed his assistants. "Jingles, could you lend her your chair for a bit? And please go fetch her a water bottle. Jangles, would you mind leading the children in 'The Twelve Days of Christmas' while I help her out?" The elf girls ran off and did as they were asked. Santa helped Alison into a chair and gave her a tissue. "Divorce is always rough at the holidays." He smiled that killer smile at her again. "But you'll be pleased to know you've raised a very good boy. When I asked him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas, he said, 'Make my Mommy not be sad.' That's a gut-punch right there. So take all the time you need to pull yourself together." Jingles returned with the water bottle, and Alison drank as though she'd been in the desert for weeks. Santa cautioned her, "Not so fast; you don't want to get sick. If you want to just hang out her for a while, I can send one of the girls to get another chair. Sadly, I can't offer to let you rest in the employee lounge. The only private area the customers are allowed into is the security office. You could go lie on the couch there if you don't mind feeling like a shoplifter."

Alison shook her head. "No, that's okay. I'll be all right in a couple minutes. Thanks."

Santa jerked a thumb at the line of kids. "I think they're up to Lords-a-Leaping, so I'd better get back to my post. Please just stick around here until my next scheduled break. I have a feeling that it wouldn't be a good idea for you to be left alone right now."

Alison couldn't really bring herself to say no to Santa Claus in front of all those children who didn't know he was just some guy in a costume. So she let them bring her a chair and she sat off to the side and watched the "Santastic Awesomeness," as Jangles (or was that one Jingles?) described it. It really did seem almost magical the way being in Santa's presence made you feel.

When it was time for a break, Santa brought Alison down to the café on the lower level, where she got a Diet Coke and he managed to drink coffee through a straw (to keep the whiskers clean) without getting burned. She pretty much spilled her entire life story to him, about how she'd married her college boyfriend and they'd tried so many times to have a baby before Zachary finally came along, and then he'd become the center of her life. This was going to be the first Christmas in her entire life that she'd be spending alone. He asked whether she had any other family to spend it with, and she said that it would have been even worse to spend it with her mother, and be constantly compared to her sister, who managed to hang onto her husband and have three beautiful children. And she couldn't go impose on her sister, since she'd just be in the way.

Santa thought for a moment and then got a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I think I know what you need. It sounds like you never had a time in your adult life to just enjoy being single. So I'm going to take you out on the town tonight. The store's open until ten, but Santaland closes at nine, and it usually takes me a half hour or so to change. So go get dressed to kill and meet me in the front lobby at nine-thirty, and we'll go hit the hottest dance clubs."

Alison frowned. "That's a silly idea. I could never do that; I'm too old, plus I don't think I own anything that would be an appropriate outfit for a dance club."

Santa looked her over. "Your age isn't a problem; it's not like I'm trying to get you into teen clubs. Besides, put you in the right outfit and amp up your makeup a little and I bet you could pass for twenty-eight. You've got a great body and I don't see too many wrinkles or gray hairs." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pen and some kind of notepad. "And as far as having nothing to wear goes, everything you need is under this roof. In the Misses' department, there's a display of cocktail dresses. One of the mannequins is wearing an emerald green dress that would really bring out those green flecks in your eyes." He wrote something on the pad, tore the top sheet off, and then wrote some more on the back before giving it to Alison. "This is a courtesy slip. Show it to Arlene in Misses' and you can get that dress for twenty percent off. Tell her St. Nick sent you." He filled out another slip and handed it to her. "You'll need shoes. Get the sexiest, flashiest, least practical pair you can still walk in." He gave her another good look. "What are you wearing under that? Wait, don't answer. That was rude of me to ask." He passed more slips over. "Get some lingerie that would make your mother blush, and a nice pair of stockings or hose, whatever you're comfortable with. What else? Oh, you'll need jewelry — some dangly earrings that will catch the light when you move, and maybe a necklace to draw attention to your cleavage if you picked a push-up back there in scandalous lingerie. You might want to switch from that purse to a funkier clutch bag, so here's another. Your coat could probably work at a club, but I'll give you the option of getting a new one just in case you want something more stylish. And finally, go down to the salon when you're done, tell Jacqui Nick sent you, show her this note, and ask her to do your makeup for a night on the town."

Alison wasn't sure it was a good idea, but he was right; she hadn't really had any time as a single girl in the big city, without any duties or obligations. Her curiosity had been piqued. Besides, Santa seemed like a really sweet guy, and she couldn't help but wonder what he looked like when he wasn't in costume.

So against her better judgment, she accepted the plan and did as she had been instructed. She felt ridiculous wearing the tiny dress that was barely held on by thin spaghetti straps, but the salesgirl in the fitting room said she looked hot. Although, you can never trust the opinions of salesgirls. She held her breath and handed over her credit card and didn't peek at the bill. She followed Santa's advice and selected a black strapless push-up bra, and a black lace thong that couldn't possibly show even though her dress was thin and tight. She picked a shimmery black sheer-to-waist pantyhose since her dress didn't even reach her knees and she'd be showing a lot of leg.

It took her the longest to pick out a pair of shoes. Alison wanted something that looked nice, but wasn't too crazy to wear in December. She ultimately settled on a pair of silver and black D'Orsay pumps with four-inch heels and closed toes. Working from the shoes, she found a nice silver bag and also picked out silver jewelry: a pair of earrings with little silver discs hanging in tiers on chains, and a pendant with a larger disc.

Jacqui the beautician was a little surprised when Alison handed her the note. She asked how she knew Nick, and Alison admitted that she'd just met him that day, and hadn't even seen him without his Santa suit on. Jacqui chuckled at that, but wouldn't respond to any of Alison's questions about what he was like. At least it did keep her mind off the makeover. She dressed in her new clothes and Jacqui threw a smock over her and went to work. She gave Alison a new hairstyle, new fingernails, and practically a new face, with full lips and smoky eyes and sculpted cheekbones. When she finished, Jacqui gave Alison a hand getting out of the chair, helped her put her earrings in, gave her a spritz of perfume, and turned her to face a full-length mirror.
Alison was amazed — she saw not a worn-out, middle aged mother but a sexy, vibrant young girl. She thanked Jacqui immensely and gave her a generous tip.

The parking garage was emptier than when she'd arrived, so it wasn't as difficult to locate her minivan to stash the clothes she'd worn earlier. She felt the eyes of strangers upon her as she walked and it encouraged her to put a little more sass in her stride. If people were going to look, she was going to give them something to look at! It took her back nearly twenty years to the last time she felt confident in her hotness. Most of her attitude was false, but that didn't matter. Pretending not to be self-conscious was almost as good as the real thing.

She was a little early for her rendezvous, and the doorman was watching her closely. She couldn't tell if it was because he was attracted to her or because he thought she was acting suspicious. She tried to find a place to stand that was out of the flow of harried shoppers leaving with their purchases, and pulled her phone out of her new bag several times to check the time.

She'd been feeling overdressed, but had a great sense of relief when she spotted another woman who looked ready for action headed her way. A tall, curvy blonde in a tight black dress that looked even shorter than Alison's was clicking toward the exit on a pair of strappy stilettos. The blonde waved to the doorman, but instead of going out the door, she turned and came over to where Alison was lurking.

The bombshell gave out a low whistle. "Wow, you look great! I knew that dress was your color." Alison's confusion must have been obvious. The stranger flashed that killer smile she'd seen before, only this time it was framed by glossy red lips instead of white whiskers. "Oh yeah, we haven't been formally introduced." She stuck out a hand for Alison to shake. "Hi. I'm Monica, but my friends call me Nic. Sorry I couldn't tell you earlier, but I'm not allowed to break character while in costume. Little ears could be eavesdropping." Her voice was higher in pitch and softer in tone than Santa's had been, and it had a slight squeaky nasal quality that was different, but something felt nonetheless familiar.

Alison was stunned. A couple of things made more sense, like how "Santa" was able to pick out her outfit, but mostly it was just amazing how much Monica had been able to transform herself. She was a little disappointed that this outing hadn't turned out to be a date with the mystery guy, but primarily relieved that it wasn't. She took a deep breath and smiled back. "Nice to finally meet you, Monica."

Monica led her to the section of the garage reserved for store employees. Her car was an old model red Mercedes sports car. Monica tossed a duffle bag in the back seat and Alison realized that in all the confusion she hadn't even noticed that she'd been carrying one. When they got to the attendant's booth at the exit, Monica told him that Alison's car might be staying in the lot after hours, and had her describe it.

She drove them to the South Side and pulled up in front of Shorty's, a converted factory that was one of the more popular dance clubs in town. A valet in a white jacket opened Alison's door for her, and then went around to the driver's side. Monica seemed to know the guy, because she gave him a light kiss on the cheek when he helped her out of the car. She said, "Gabriel, every time I come here you're on duty. When am I going to get a chance to see these famous moves you keep talking about?"

The valet clicked his tongue. "You couldn't handle my moves, Baby!"

Monica gave him a playful hip check. "Oh there's nothing you've got that I couldn't handle." She patted the roof of her car. "Speaking of babies, you'd better take good care of mine."

Gabriel clutched his chest and staggered back a step. "You wound me, Nic. You know I'll treat her like she was my own."

Monica blew him a kiss and then joined Alison on the curb. When the car pulled away, she leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "See that? Age is not a problem when you're as hot as us! I've got something like twelve years on him, but he still loves to flirt with me. Did you catch that glance he tried to sneak at my ass?" She giggled and took Alison's arm to lead her to the club.

She ignored the line of people waiting and walked them straight to the door. A burly guy with a platinum crew cut and more muscles than Alison could count looked up from his clipboard. He greeted Monica with a squeeze. "Hey, Nic. Looking dynamite as always. Don't think I've seen your friend before."

She introduced Alison to Clay, and told her that she had nothing to fear from him. He rarely needed to throw anyone out of the place; he could disarm a situation with just a look. She danced her fingers across his broad chest, and it almost looked like he blushed a little. He waved them inside.

They checked their coats and then Monica led them across the dance floor to the bar. There was a bit of a crowd, but she easily got men to step out of the way with just a touch on the shoulder. In her heels she was about as tall as most of them and seemed to inhale at just the right moment so their eye was drawn to her impressive décolletage. By the time they hit the bar, a number of guys had offered to buy their drinks.

The bartender was a tall, friendly black man with a shaved head and a blonde goatee. Of course Monica was also on a first name basis with him. "Teddy, my friend Alison here had a really rough day and needs something smooth. Could you make her one of your famous hot chocolates? Actually my day wasn't so great either, so make that two."

To be polite, they took their drinks and chatted briefly with the men who'd paid for them. In front of the guys, Monica explained "the rules" to Alison: she shouldn't feel obligated to do anything with a guy just because he bought her a drink, but since they were at a dance club, if she started feeling the music she ought to go out on the floor and cut loose, but not to dance with the same guy more than once. It would lead him on, and since this was her first night out she should plan on sleeping in her own bed, unaccompanied. It was okay to flirt and tease men as long as they knew it was just a game. She warned Alison to be careful not to send mixed signals.

Alison said she thought she understood and when her cup was empty she bluntly turned to the guys and wondered aloud which one of them was going to ask her to dance. Monica was surprised and impressed that her protégé turned out to have game after all.
And she handled herself well on the dance floor, too. Monica tried to keep an eye on her, but it was hard to do while handling her own offers.

An hour or so after they arrived, Monica spotted Alison over at a table drinking another hot chocolate and letting the guy she was with get a little too handsy. Alison was looking a little off, and Monica worried that maybe he'd slipped her something. She excused herself from her dance partner and made a beeline for the table. The guy shot her a dirty look for interrupting, but she didn't care. "Hey, Alison, are you okay?"

She looked over at Monica and blinked a couple times. "I'm jusht shwell, Shanta." She looked over at her companion and gave a stage whisper. "Thish girl is Shanta Claw, if you can belief it."

Something was wrong. "Are you drunk?"

Alison giggled. "Don't be shilly. All I've had is four of these chocolates, and I don' even need to worry 'bout calories, 'cause I skipped dinner while I was running all over your shtore."

Monica put an arm around Alison and helped her to her feet. "I'm sorry, Sweetie. I should have been paying better attention to you. Teddy makes those hot chocolates with three kinds of liqueur and a shot of rum. I thought you realized that. Let's get you home." She stared at the creep. "She's clearly drunk, and you were taking advantage of that. Are you going to leave us alone, or do I have to signal the bouncer?" He slunk away.

Fortunately, Alison had enough functioning brain cells to remember her address, and Monica was able to drive her home and help her up to her apartment. It was a modest two-bedroom place in a relatively decent part of town. It was apparent as soon as you stepped through the door that a little kid lived there, from the handmade construction paper ornaments hanging on the small Christmas tree, to the occasional crayon marks on the walls, to the random toys strewn about.

Alison had been lucky and didn't get sick until she was home, but when the urge came it came fast. Monica ran after her and held her hair out of the way, and cleaned her face with a washcloth when it was all over. She couldn't find any cold cream, so she did her best to remove Alison's makeup with soap and water while she sat on the bathroom floor.
When her stomach seemed to have calmed down enough, Monica fetched a large glass of water and a couple aspirin and made her swallow it all. Once she figured out which room was Alison's, she helped her stand and walked her to her bed. Alison's outfit was sexy, but she would be sore in the morning if she slept in it, so she unzipped her dress and pulled it off of her, and then unhooked the uncomfortable bra. It wasn't obvious where she kept her nightwear, so she just put her in bed in her panties.

Alison's mind was starting to work again. "Thank you for trying to show me a good time, but it's hopeless."

Monica stroked her hair. "Don't get discouraged. We'll do better next time."

Alison wrinkled her nose. "I don't know if there will be a next time. I'm not sure the club scene is for me. I think maybe those guys only asked me to dance because I was with you."

Monica looked into her new friend's eyes. "Don't be ridiculous! You were seriously one of the hottest women there tonight."

She shook her head. "You're just saying that."

"Okay, I'll level with you. I'm not only into guys. I've had just as many, if not more, relationships with women as men. And I tell you you are a truly sexy, beautiful woman." She gently touched Alison's cheek.

"Maybe that's the answer to how to not have to be alone. I'll just turn lesbo." Alison grabbed Monica and planted a sloppy, foul-tasting kiss on her.

Monica carefully extricated herself from the embrace and pushed Alison back into bed. "That's a very flattering offer, but you're still a little drunk. So how about you sleep on it for now, and if you're still interested tomorrow we can talk about it. Okay?"

Alison was on the verge of tears, so she just nodded. "Could you stay here with me for a while? I really don't want to be alone."

Monica acquiesced and lay down on top of the blanket and cuddled her as platonically as she could until she fell asleep.

***

The next morning Alison woke up with a headache almost as large as her sense of shame. She wished it was like in the movies, where people who get drunk and do stupid things don’t remember them, but the events of the night before were much too clear in her mind. She pulled on a robe and shuffled to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

On the kitchen table, she found a note from Monica. In it she apologized for Alison's first night out and promised to "do better the next time." Alison wasn't completely sure she wanted a next time. Monica also asked her to stop by Santaland when she went to get her car. The note said nothing about the incident that ended the night, so maybe it hadn't been as big a deal to Monica as it had to Alison.

She made it back to Rutherford's around half past two in the afternoon. She still had a weird feeling about the whole thing, but she went up to see Santa anyway. She was just too curious and wanted to try to see if she could see through the disguise, now that she knew who was beneath it.

Alison tried to lie low and just peek from the back of the line of excited kids, but "Santa" saw her and waved, and sent one of the "elves" to pull her to the front. The cute pigtailed petite blonde wasn't one of the girls that had been there the day before. It was really embarrassing getting the VIP treatment in Santaland without even having a child with her.

When they reached the head of the line, Santa came over and winked. "Hello, Ms. Shepherd. I have a break coming soon, and we can go get a cup of cocoa in the café and discuss that issue with your son." He turned to the crowd. "A question has come up over whether her child deserves to be on the Naughty List. Remember, boys and girls, your Moms and Dads have the last word on which behaviors are acceptable." That drew a few gasps from the kids standing in line, but the parents waiting with them seemed pleased.

Alison wished she was invisible; she was never good at getting attention. She stood off to the side for an eternity and a half, and then it was time for Santa's coffee break. Jolly Saint Nic came down off the throne and escorted her down to the lower level. She was very aware that people were watching them the whole time, but somehow Santa Claus was imposing enough that kids kept their distance.

They grabbed a table in the café. Alison spoke up first. "It's really very amazing how much you've changed. No one would ever realize from looking at you."

The fake Santa cut her off by raising one finger. Those pudgy gloves must have some padding inside. "Shhh. Not here," said a vaguely feminine whisper. "There are rules about these things." In a more Santa-like tone, St. Nic continued. "Anyway, it's good to see you're feeling better."

"Thanks." Alison gave a half-smile. "Look, I'd just like to apologize for last night."

Monica chuckled, and then had to force it into a "Ho ho ho" in order to stay in character. "I'm the one who should apologize. I should have done a better job keeping an eye on you. I needed to keep in mind that you were basically a novice in that environment, no matter how naturally you seemed to take to it."

Alison blushed. "Not that part. I was referring to the end of the night, when I tried to… you know?"

Nic grinned. "Well of course, at the end of the evening I was back at The Pole with Mrs. Claus and the little ones so I clearly wasn't there. But our mutual friend Ms. Lane told me you planted a messy drunken kiss upon her. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay. I'm glad I was making a big deal about nothing." They had a little more small talk before Santa's break was over, and then Alison fetched her car and drove home.

Later that evening Santa must have been on another coffee break. Alison got a text message from Monica saying that she and the jingle girls had a Sunday tradition of going out for pancakes at the end of the day, and she could join them if she was looking for company. Alison thought that seemed safe, since other people would be there and they wouldn't be drinking, so she accepted and got directions to the restaurant.

Monica had said it was casual, so Alison dressed in jeans and a sweater. She got to the place a little early, so she was standing by the hostess station waiting when Monica and the girls arrived. The cute little blonde was in big fuzzy boots and a denim miniskirt with a spaghetti-strapped tank top; she looked like a Canadian hooker or something. The brunette with the pixie cut wore an outfit similar to Alison's, except that both her jeans and her sweater were skin-tight. Monica entered last, and she was gorgeous, in knee-high leather boots, dark tights, and a cowl-necked red jersey dress that looked warm. At least she seemed to be wearing a bra, unlike her two assistants.

They found a table and each ordered a full stack, and talked for a long time. Alison learned more than she ever wanted to know about the Santa business. The "jingle girls" were part-time employees, and there were eight of them in total to cover the full week, even though Monica was the only Santa.

She told the story of how she'd gotten the job. She'd been working as a sales associate at Rutherford's for several years, and would go back to that job in January. She currently worked in Ladies' Wear, but a couple years before she'd been in the toy department, and had been very dissatisfied with what she'd seen from the Santas working there. In those days, Rutherford's had several men working part-time shifts as Santa, just like the elf girls.

Monica said that it had frustrated her how bored they'd acted toward the kids and how they failed to engage them at all. It was just a screaming, shoving bunch of brats lining up to whine at a depressed guy in a bad costume. She'd studied education and child development in college, and knew what they could do to make it better, but no one would listen.

Alison interjected to ask why Monica wasn't a teacher since she was so good with kids. Monica replied that she had been, but political disagreements with the wrong people had pushed her out and left a black mark on her employment history, so no one would hire her. She didn't want to get into the details, but she ended up taking a job at Rutherford's to pay the bills, and stayed.

Anyway, she'd been so fed up by the inferior Santas that the next year she arranged to have an audition for the department head. She explained to Alison that Rutherford's had an "LGBT-Positive Policy" that made it easier for a woman to apply for the job. She built her own costume at home, complete with padding of her own design that turned her 42-30-40 hourglass figure into Santa's spherical shape. She explained that she'd minored in theatre arts at college, and costuming had always been a hobby of hers. She applied her beard and eyebrows with spirit gum and blended the seams with makeup while she added a few extra wrinkles to her face. She of course blew all the other applicants out of the water, so they had to give her the job.

That first year, she was only one of several Santas, but after too many shoppers had come to see one of the bad ones based on the recommendations of their friends who'd brought their kids to see Monica, they worked out an arrangement where she'd be the only Santa. It meant working insanely long days in a hot suit, but she loved the way the children responded, and they paid her more than she would have been making on the sales floor. And the job had other perks, like getting to take jingle girls out for pancakes and meeting cool Moms, so it was a pretty good deal.

It was getting late, so they decided to call it a night. Monica had parked her car next to Alison's, so they walked across the parking lot together. Monica paused when they reached the door to Alison's minivan. "Thank you for coming. Give me a call if you're looking for company, or if you just need someone to talk to."

Alison smiled. "Thanks. I appreciate it. And thanks for letting me know that the kiss thing was no big deal. I'd been worrying about it all morning."

Monica grinned mischievously. "Well, you told me you were with your ex since you were college freshmen, so you never really got that chance to do a little girl-on-girl experimentation like a lot of coeds do. So you can also call me if you feel like trying to do that now that you finally have freedom."

Alison wasn't sure how to react to that. She just nodded and said, "Okay"

Monica took a step closer. "And one more thing." She put her hand on the side of Alison's cheek and tilted her chin up. "If you're going to get that worked up over a kiss, at least let it be a real one." She brought her lips to Alison's and kissed her, softly and tenderly, with a mouth that was neither too dry nor too wet, and a tongue that fluttered against hers without feeling like it was probing or invading her. Alison's enthusiasm with which she returned the kiss surprised even herself. But just when she was really getting into it, Monica released her and stepped back. "See you later, Sexy!" Alison had to take a couple minutes for her mind to get back in focus before she was able to drive herself home.

***

The next day at the office, Alison was finding hard concentrating on her work. Her mind kept drifting back to the night before and the strange dreams she'd had. Mr. Jenkins even remarked that she was taking longer to file her reports than usual. It was weird; it was like she was in high school obsessing all about her first kiss all over again. Was she getting a crush on Monica, and if so, what did that mean?

She managed to exercise enough restraint to keep from driving over to Rutherford's on her lunch break, but she couldn't think up a good reason not to go there at the end of her workday.

She headed up to Santaland immediately, and saw once more how great a job Monica did with the kids. There was this one little boy who came up to Santa and asked for a doll, and a few of the kids behind him laughed. But Santa just remarked that dolls were fun to play with, and occasionally the elves caught him in the toy shop changing the outfits on the dolls, and he just casually asked the boy whether he wanted a fashion doll or a baby doll, or if he'd meant he wanted some kind of action hero. The boy's mother actually smiled when he explained to Santa exactly which Barbie he wanted, and Santa told him that was a good choice.

When St. Nic noticed her and waved, Alison waved back and gestured at her phone, indicating that she'd sent Monica a text. She didn't want to have a private talk with Santa in person again; she didn't want to have to figure out whether it was weirder to have sexy thoughts about a woman or about someone dressed in a Santa suit. She left the room as soon as she realized she'd been staring at Santa's lips and wondering what the beard would feel like if she kissed them.

Her message had asked Monica what exciting plans she had for that evening, and whether Alison could tag along. The next time Santa took a break and ducked into the back, Monica returned Alison's text, saying that she'd been planning on just going home after work, but if Alison wanted they could go split a pizza at Mario's. Monica was apparently familiar with all the places that were open late. Alison agreed to the plan, but then she had a few hours to kill.

Since she'd need to buy something in order to get her parking validated, she browsed the store. For some reason, she found herself in the Intimate Apparel department, looking for some sexy new lingerie. She had a shocking realization that she was trying to figure out what she could wear that would excite another woman, and that she had no clue. When you've already got all the parts yourself, would you rather see them revealed and shown off on someone else, or is it still sexier to keep things enticingly hidden and only hinted at?

She ended up getting a stretch lace camisole and matching string bikini in the shade of green that Monica said she liked on her. Alison still wasn't completely sure whether or not she'd be wearing them for her, but she was curious about the possibility.

Alison had a thought, and sent another text. Since Monica had originally been planning on going straight home, the non-Santa clothes she had with her were probably casual. And that made Alison, still in her office wear, feel overdressed. So she asked if it would be okay for her to go home and change, and Monica could pick her up there. That sounded like a reasonable plan to her.

Mario's turned out to be better than Alison had expected. She'd been imagining a greasy dive with cheap furnishings, but it was actually a decent family-owned place with a simple menu of pizza and sandwiches but a homey atmosphere. They split a large veggie pizza, since neither of them wanted anything heavy.

Their conversation on the other hand did drift to heavier topics. Monica asked how serious Alison was about experimenting with dating a woman, or if she was just looking for company so she wouldn't be alone over the holidays. She offered to spend time with her just as a friend if that was all she wanted and she wouldn't need the pretense of a romance.

Alison thought for a moment and said that it was true that she was lonely, but Monica's kiss had piqued her interest and she was keen on seeing what more was possible. If Monica was willing, Alison would rather continue to try dating her than merely to see her as a friend.

When they'd finished Monica drove Alison home, and at first she pulled up at the curb to let her off. Alison was a little disappointed. "Would you like to come in for a drink or something?"

Monica turned the car off. "A little 'or something' does sound tempting, but you've only just decided you want to start exploring, so I'll just walk you to the door tonight, Okay?"

She got out and opened Alison's door for her, and it really did feel like a date when she took Monica's arm to walk up the front steps. Alison bit her lip hesitantly, and then said, "Thank you for a lovely evening. I'm looking forward to doing again some time." She looked up so their eyes met.

Monica put her arms around Alison. "Good night." She pulled her in for a kiss, and this time Alison was ready and closed her eyes and opened her mouth. She hungrily worked her lips and tongue against Monica's, and felt Monica's hands caress her body. She wasn't sure what to do with her own, so she just rubbed against Monica's back a little. The feeling was amazing! She'd heard the expression "toe-curling kisses" but she'd thought that had just been a metaphor. Alison actually felt the urge to kick back one foot, like all the clichéd swooning girls in those movies. It was very intense.

And far too soon it was over. Monica let go, and Alison had to walk into her building alone. She made a decision even before she reached her apartment door, and sent Monica a text offering to cook her a light late supper at the end of her shift the next day. Alison had to take a long bath before bed in order to be relaxed enough to fall asleep.

***

On Tuesday, Alison figured that she'd be fairly useless at work, so she called in and told Mr. Jenkins that she needed to take a personal day to deal with some "female troubles," and that wasn't even a lie. She spent the day cleaning her apartment, sorting out her menu and her wardrobe, and in general trying her best to calm her nerves. She was about to do the scariest thing she'd done since childbirth, and she was constantly on the verge of freaking out.

Monica showed up with a lovely bouquet of flowers for her. There were no florists open this late, so she must have gotten them early in the day. Alison chuckled at the image of Santa Claus going into a flower shop.

Monica told her that she looked lovely. Alison hadn't wanted her to know that she'd played hooky from work, so she'd dressed in a charcoal grey skirt suit. Just a bit of her new camisole was visible between the lapels of her jacket.

As usual, Monica looked amazing. She wore a blue shirtdress that fit her curves perfectly and brought out the color of her eyes. Her makeup was flawless, from her sultry eyes to her kissable lips, and her hair was done in one of those messy sexy styles that just made you imagine how she'd look in bed.

Alison thanked her for the flowers, and then boldly kissed her hello, going so far as to give Monica a playful squeeze on the behind. She left to get a vase and left Monica wondering what else she had planned.

The meal was a light grilled chicken vinaigrette on a bed of wild rice with mixed vegetables on the side. Monica was impressed with Alison's cooking, and complimented her repeatedly. She didn't do much home cooking herself, so it was a nice change.

After dinner, Alison served a light dessert wine in the living room. They cuddled on the couch and shared a few kisses. Alison pretended to get warm and took her jacket off. Her breasts were only covered in thin lace, and every detail was obvious. Monica took the hint and began to softly stroke her as they kissed. Alison fiddled with the buttons on Monica's dress, and eventually got them open.

She brought her hand to Monica's breast and was caressing her through her silky bra, but then she accidentally broke the moment by saying out loud what she'd been thinking. "Wow -you're big!" She giggled at that, and that started Monica laughing too.

"I take a 38D, so yeah they're kind of big. They can be a bit of a hassle sometimes, but I like them."

Alison noticed that she was idly running her finger around the contour of Monica's nipple, and since they kind of weren't making out any more it felt wrong. She pulled her hand out of her dress and tried to make small talk. "Are all the women in your family large-busted?"

Monica blushed a little. "Well, actually none of them are. My boobs only got up to a B cup naturally, but on my large frame they looked to small, so I got implants. I think they look pretty good on me, if I do say so myself."

Alison smiled. "I didn't feel anything out of the ordinary just now when I was touching them." That seemed like a weird thing to admit, so she reddened a but herself. "And I think they do seem to fit you. I can't imagine you with smaller ones." She tried to look nonchalant and added, "I only noticed how big they were when I couldn't get my hand around one.

Since they'd lost the tension, Monica gave Alison a good night kiss and went home. She had another early morning coming and needed to get to sleep.

***

The next day, Alison discovered a package waiting for her at her apartment when she got home. It was a large box with the Rutherford's logo on it, and a note attached which read, "We're going dancing tonight. Let me make our first time up to you. I'll pick you up at 11. I got you a new outfit. Hope you like it. — Nic"

Inside the box was a red dress. It was knee-length, with a flared skirt and an off-the shoulder neckline. Monica had also included a stylish pair of red pumps that probably cost more than Alison's rent and a small red purse. She hoped she lived up to Monica's expectations.

Alison had a couple ideas on how to finish the ensemble and she wanted to keep them a secret. So she went out shopping to a different store than Rutheford's, hoping that wasn't a bad thing. Everything in the box was in the right sizes, so Monica must have found out from the sales people that helped Alison's earlier shopping spree.

When Monica arrived, she saw that Alison had accessorized her new dress with a necklace that twinkled along her breasts and sparkling earrings. They were either diamonds or really good CZ. She had shiny silk back-seamed stockings on her legs and a snow white pashmina over her shoulders. She was breathtaking.

Monica herself was in a strapless shiny gold dress with an uneven hemline that came to mid-thigh on her right side and just below the knee on her left. She wore low-heeled shoes that almost put them nose to nose. Alison only had to tilt her neck slightly to kiss her.

They kissed for a bit, and then fixed their lipsticks before hitting the road. Their destination was a different club from the last one. This one, Club Coriander, was the kind of place where two women could dance without a bunch of men trying to cut in.

Monica seemed just as familiar at this place than the last one. As before, she was on a first name basis with Heidi the bouncer and Amber the bartender, and even got her requests played by Lydia the DJ. It was a club full of women, but Alison did notice a few men in the crowd, mostly dancing with each other. She thought she noticed one straight couple, but then she realized that the "woman" was actually a man in a dress.

Since she wasn't drinking to excess, and didn't have to listen to boring stories from men trying to get to know her, Alison had a much much better time at the lesbian dance club than she had at the hetero club.

She didn't want to get too worn out, so she asked Monica to take her home long before the club's closing time. When they pulled up to her building, Alison leaned over to Monica and gave her as deep a kiss as possible, and told her to find a parking space; she wouldn't be driving home any time soon.

Monica accepted the invitation and followed Alison into her apartment. She settled down on the couch, but Alison stood in the doorway and didn't join her. "I thought we might be more comfortable in the bedroom." She reached around behind her back, and her unzipped dress fell to the floor. "Don't you?" Alison stood there for a moment to give Monica a good look at her new lingerie, a sheer red merry widow with garters that stretched down to her stockings, and with no panties beneath.

Monica had just enough time to appreciate Alison's bikini wax before she turned and went down the hall. Monica arrived at the bedroom to find her posed on her new black satin sheets. "Wow. Are you sure you've never done this before?" She leaned down and kissed her.

One kiss turned into many, and the kisses began to wander. Monica had started at Alison's mouth, but then she was kissing her neck, running along the vein at her throat to her collarbone. Then the tops of her breasts were being peppered with kisses, and before she knew it the straps had slid down her shoulders and her breasts were free. Monica delivered sweet kisses to Alison's nipples, not biting or pinching like Kyle used to do, but with just enough suction to drive her absolutely wild.

When the straps from her merry widow were completely off her arms and she could move them again, Alison decided that it wasn't fair for only one of them to be nearly naked. She reached around and unzipped the back of Monica's dress, and made her push it down off her body.

Alison then went behind Monica's back and unhooked her strapless bra, giving Alison her first look at Monica's outstanding breasts. Somehow they looked even bigger uncovered, but they were indeed shaped proportionally to Monica's body, like she'd said. She couldn't get her own mouth down there to return the gesture, but her fingers could reach Monica's thick pink nipples. Monica made a sort of involuntary cooing noise, so that must have been the right thing to do.

But they soon got out of reach as Monica's kisses continued moving down past Alison's navel. Alison's body got ready for what was inevitably about to happen. She felt herself doing a pelvic tilt and letting her legs open wider.

She felt a jolt of electricity run through her body when Monica's tongue made contact. She gave her the most intimate of kisses, over and over again, bringing Alison to climax more times than she could count. As a lover, Monica's technique was better than anything Kyle had ever done.

Alison needed to come up for air. She grabbed Monica's shoulders and pulled her up for some more mouth-to-mouth kissing. She tasted a little different, and Alison was surprised that the idea the she herself was the source of that flavor turned her on.

She slid her hands down to the waistband of Monica's pantyhose. "Okay, Sweetie. Your turn."

Monica pushed her hands away and backed off. "Wait." She smacked herself in the forehead. "What I just did there was a mistake."

Alison was confused. "No it wasn't. I wanted it; you wanted it. How could it have been a mistake? You're supposed to be my Lesbian Experiment, remember? From where I sit, so far this experiment is going well."

Monica shrugged. "I didn't actually think you'd be going through with it. I though we'd just been having fun teasing."

"So you're not actually a lesbian?" Alison sighed. This was just her luck.

"No, no. That's not the problem. I really am into girls. Well, sometimes. I do like a nice beefy dude every now and then. What's wrong is that I wasn't completely honest with you, and I should have been before I let things go this far." She gestured at Alison's nude form, which made her self-conscious enough to try to cover herself somewhat with the sheet.

Alison's lip quivered. "What did you lie about? Have you already got a girlfriend? A boyfriend? Are you someone's wife? Am I 'The other woman'?"

Monica took a deep breath. "No, it's nothing like that. I'm totally alone. I haven't been in a lasting relationship in a very long time. I never lied to you; there's just some truths I should have shared before now."

Alison's tone was shifting to annoyance. "Ok, so now I'm confused. What have you been keeping from me?"

Monica looked around the room, as though she were looking to see where all the things she'd need to grab to take with her if she ran. "I couldn't let you go any further and do to me what I'd just done to you is that I haven't got the right stuff down there. I was actually born male, and it's taken me many surgeries and procedures to become the woman I've always known I was inside, but I've got one last surgery to go, and that's the big one. I've almost saved up enough for it; this extra Christmas overtime ought to do it."

Alison looked at Monica and tilted her head from side to side. From experience, Monica could tell that she was trying to picture if her story were true. Then without warning, Alison broke out into laughter. "So this existential crisis I've been having is all fake? First I think I'm falling for a guy in a Santa suit, and then I find out it's a girl in the Santa suit, and just when I'm finally okay with the idea of falling for a girl, you tell me that you were a man all along?"

Monica shook her head. "No. That's not what I’m saying. I've been a woman my whole life; it's just that my body didn't know it. If you've really been falling for me, you've been falling for a woman. At this point when I’m talking to a potential lover, I usually have to drop my panties and show them, but like I said, I wasn't expecting you to go this far this fast, so I can't; everything's all tucked away and glued up into a reasonable facsimile of a vulva. But when you were kissing me, you were kissing a woman. When you were touching my breasts or grabbing my ass, you were enjoying the body of a woman. Even if unknown to you it was a woman with a penis, you were experiencing a lesbian relationship."

Alison still wasn't sure how to react. "Does it work?" When Monica gave a confused look, Alison pointed at Monica's crotch. "You said you've got a penis. Does it work?"

Monica thought for a moment. "I usually keep it bundled up, so it's mostly nonfunctional. Why?"

"Well, you say you're a woman trapped in a man's body, but one who likes to frequently have sex with other women. I'd think that if there was a part of your body that's specifically made for having sex with women, you'd want to use that."

Monica frowned. "Well, no. I don't want to use that. My doctor makes me take Cialis and force an erection once a week so that I'll make sure I have enough material when it comes time for my vaginaplasty, and I hate having to do that. It's just a reminder that my body is broken. I had an ex-almost-girlfriend break up with me when I refused to have sex with her using what to me is my hideously deformed clitoris. Let me try an analogy. Suppose you were born with the birth defect known as mermaid syndrome, where your legs are joined together. And lets say you spend one percent of your time in the water, and the conjoined legs made you a better swimmer. Now would you refuse a surgery to separate the legs, just because they help you do one thing? Or would you rather want to be normal?"

Even though neither of them was wearing much, Alison saw that Monica was on the verge of tears and got up and gave her a hug. "I don't think you're hideously deformed. You're more normal than a lot of people I know."

Monica actually did start to weep. "Anyway, so now you know why I have no family to spend the holidays with, and why I had to give up teaching. I came out as transgendered and they rejected me. And it's why like so many others you'll be breaking up with me. Give me a minute to gather my things and I'll get out of your hair."

Alison pulled Monica's face around and kissed her. "I'm a little confused right now, and not exactly sure how to define my sexual preference, but I'm not ready to give up on you yet. I'm going to take off my stockings and then go into the bathroom and remove my makeup. When I brought you up here tonight, it was with the intention of your spending the night, and you are still welcome to join me between these sheets, even if you're not comfortable enough to let me see what's inside your panties. If you'd rather go home, that's okay with me too, but call me tomorrow. I'm not used to being the stable one in this relationship, and I might need some advice."

Monica sniffled, and smiled at her new girlfriend. She kicked off her shoes and raced Alison to the bathroom.

~o~O~o~

Epilogue:

Monica came back from going home to change, and when she returned two hours later, Alison was still nervously pacing around the apartment straightening up things that weren't crooked and tidying things that were already spotless. Monica set down the two paper coffee cups that she was awkwardly carrying in her left hand. "Sit down. I brought you a low-foam skim half-caf cappuccino with two shakes of cinnamon, just the way you like it." She reached into the bag she carried in her other hand and pulled out two pastries. "And a fresh cinnamon bun. Still warm."

Alison yielded to temptation and accepted the snacks. "Thanks." She gave Monica a quick kiss. "I'm glad you're here and all, but I'm not really ready to tell Zachary everything. Okay?"

Monica licked frosting off her thumb from where the bun had dripped. "You mean I can't say something like 'this is the second time today I've gotten my fingers sticky doing something nice for you, although not as tasty as the first?'" She leered at Alison.

Her companion went pale as a sheet. "Don't you dare!"

"Sweetie, you know me well enough to tell when I'm kidding." Monica made the smile that melted Alison's knees. "I'm just trying to get you to calm down and breathe for a moment."

Alison smiled back. "I know. I'm just nervous about telling him. I'm not really sure how Zachary will react to finding out his mother has a girlfriend."

"It actually makes some sense to wait." Monica shrugged. "After all, we only met two weeks ago; maybe it won't work out between us."

Alison set down her coffee and walked over to give Monica a hug. "You're being insecure again. Sometimes when you meet someone you just know. And I know the way I feel about you isn't a crush or a fling or a whim. We've been together every day of those two weeks, and I have bared my soul to you. You know all my secrets and I think I know most of yours. This thing between us is real, and if you hadn't told me that you weren't ready to use that word, I'd say it right now."

Monica kissed her. "You always know the right words. I am so glad you came into my life."

"And I'm not going anywhere." Alison gave her a squeeze. "So that means telling Zachary, and probably sooner rather than later. Especially since when the time comes for your surgery, I plan on helping you through your recovery, and that will mean bringing Zachary with me to your place, or maybe we'll be sharing an apartment by then."

Monica's eyes widened. "You're moving kind of fast, even if it's only in the planning stage right now. That scares the crap out of me, but at the same time, it feels right. So I guess we're stuck with each other for a while."

They cuddled for a bit, and then finished their snacks. Not long after that, there was a knock on the door. Alison got up to answer it, but it opened before she got there, and her favorite person in the whole wide world ran in. The adorable five-year-old gave her a giant hug, and said, "Mommy, guess what? I'm going to be a bear!"

Alison looked over Zachary's head to where his father stood in the doorway with Zachary's bag. "You don't need to wait in the hall; come on in, Kyle. Happy New Year!" She then grabbed Zachary and picked him up. "Now what was that you said? You're going to be a bear? Really? Should I stock up on honey? Or maybe you're a koala bear, or a panda bear and I'll need to get special food."

Kyle came into the apartment, and Alison realized that Megan had come along too when she heard her laugh. And unfortunately, she was coming toward Alison. "You're so silly, Zach! Allie, he's just a little confused. Well, first this is all only if you agree, but like I'd told you I suspected, Kyle popped the question!" She waved her left hand in Alison's face, showing a diamond about three times the size Kyle had been able to afford for her back then. "Well, you don't have to agree to that part, although of course you're invited. But the other part that you would have to say yes to is that we'd very much like Zach to be our ring bearer."

Alison sighed. She supposed that Kyle deserved to have some kind of happiness, and if this bimbo was what he wanted, it wasn't her place to stop her. Besides, she was very content with how her life had been turning out lately. She looked over at Kyle, who had an apologetic look on his face; he'd probably planned a smoother way of breaking the news to her. But she turned her head back to the living room, caught Monica's beautiful blue eyes in hers, and smiled. "Well then, congratulations to both of you! And I think it's lovely that you want to include Zachary in your wedding. I'd be glad to attend, as long as you put me down for a 'plus one.' Kyle, remember how you made sure you introduced me to Megan before things got too serious, so I'd know who was going to be around Zachary?" She waved at Monica to join them. "Well, for exactly the same reason, I'd like you to meet Monica." She paused for effect, and then repeated, "Exactly the same reason."

Monica gave Megan a hug and congratulated her, and she winked at Kyle when she read in his expression that he finally got what Alison had implied. She gently put a hand on Alison's shoulder. "I think we have some champagne left over from last night — what do you say we toast the newlyweds?" She then tousled Zachary's hair and said, "Hi there, kiddo. I'm your Mommy's new friend Monica. I think we'll get along fine; we have some friends in common." She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Santa sent me to help her be happy."