The snowfall gradually got heavier. What began as light flurries a couple hours ago is nearing whiteout conditions. Mrs. Claus is watching it worsen, staring out the window of her personal theater-sized lounge.
“You’re right,” she says into her custom iPhone, voice shaky with concern, “but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
Her husband of forty-two years, a man known globally as Santa, recently left the factory district of their North Pole estate to carry out his annual job – delivering Christmas presents to children around the world. As his nine reindeer carried him off into the night sky, Mrs. Claus manned her ritual massive window seat to see him off.
When the Claus’ youngest daughter was still living at home, she’d position herself in the same spot, holding her mother’s trembling hand for comfort. Today she provides company from the other end of the phone.
“I’ll be fine, dear,” Mrs. Claus says, noticing the reflection of her assistant waiting patiently in the doorway behind her. “You should go so you and Dean can get to Renee and Jr.’s party. Besides, Hope is waiting for me. Give everyone a kiss for me. Be safe! I love you!”
Mrs. Claus disconnects, then clutches the phone to her heart with both hands as she gives the snowy sky another glance. She lets out a sigh, turning her attention to her assistant. “Isn’t it a bit cold for a dress that short,” she says to Hope, jokingly.
“Well, Kay, you know my Alex is a…,” Hope responds, laughing instead of finishing her thought. “I’ll just say you know he likes me to show off our fitness membership!”
Their laughter is interrupted from a chime overhead, then a computerized voice says “I do not understand the joke. May I play some music for you now, Mrs. Kay Claus?”
Mrs. Claus looks at Hope and rolls her eyes. “Another Christmas Eve alone with voice command,” she whispers. “Not yet, Alexa! I will let you know when I’m ready. Understood?”
“Understood, Mrs. Kay Claus.”
The two ladies stare each other for a moment and then embrace. “You all have such an advanced version of you know who,” Hope whispers. “It’s like Ultron. It creeps me out.”
“Oh, stop,” Mrs. Claus says, laughing.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to do anything before I leave?” Hope asks. “I’ll never understand how you can tolerate being in this massive house at night, on Christmas Eve of all nights, all by yourself! At least you have music…which reminds me.”
Hope pulls her smart phone from her leather clutch purse. She opens an email designated for Mrs. Claus. “D’Angelo sent this,” she reveals. “He says it’s new music he recorded just for you. Would you like me to have IT upload it so Alexia can add it to your play list?”
“Michael is such a sweet boy for sending this to me,” Mrs. Claus gushes with a surprised look on her face, “but no thank you, dear. You should be heading for the helipad so you can get going. The weather outside is frightful. I don’t want to be worrying about Nick Sr. and you too!”
Mrs. Claus kisses her assistant on the cheek, then points her finger to the center of the lounge. “I’m going to sit right there by that delightful fireplace, sip a warm cocktail, listen to Stevie Wonder, and maybe watch a little television. TJ from IT made me a compilation of Christmas episodes from all my favorite TV shows! I’m just dying to it check out!”
Hope gives Mrs. Claus another hug. “Merry Christmas, and try not to worry about Santa,” she says, turning to leave the room. Mrs. Claus waves goodbye, then watches the empty doorway as the sound of Hope’s high heels on the hardwood floors fade in the distance.
The crackling of the fire is the only sound in the room now. Mrs. Claus makes her way to a cushiony red reclining loveseat with a cherry oak table on its right. On tops rests a crystal goblet with a steamy beverage just below its rim. Mrs. Claus sits down, carefully grabs the goblet and gives its contents a gentle blow before taking a cautious sip. “Mmm, yum,” she says quietly to herself. She cranes her neck to watch the heavily falling snow for one last minute.
“Alexa?”
“Yes, Mrs. Kay Claus. How may I be of service?”
“In 60 seconds I want you to close the shutters. Also cue up the video from TJ Corina. But keep it muted for now, please. Understood?”
“Understood, Mrs. Kay Claus. Loading video file #122419.”
A few seconds later the shutters begin closing. Mrs. Claus returns the goblet to the table, then blows a kiss toward the frosted night sky before the window is completely covered. “You’re a great man,” she whispers.
“Are you prepared for a relaxing Christmas Eve, Mrs. Kay Claus?”
“Yes, I am, Alexa! Oh, and did you get The Avengers nice gifts this year?” Mrs. Claus begins to laugh as she reaches for her drink.
“I do not understand the joke. May I play some music for you now, Mrs. Kay Claus?”
“Yes, my Stevie Wonder playlist,” she says, still chuckling a bit before taking another sip. “Mmm. And Alexa, keep it on repeat until my husband gets home. Understood?” |THIS
|Written by Mr. Joe Walker | Photos by Gerald “G-Ride” King of King Photography | Model: Lilith Slaughter courtesy of King Photography | Follow THIS on Twitter @THISENT1]
