I snorted. “You can have the milk.”
He picked up the plate and inclined his head toward the large leather couch. “Shall we sit while we eat? I promise not to leave any crumbs.”
I didn’t move. “You’re really here. This isn’t a dream.”
Santa smiled. “You’re not dreaming, Anthony.”
“How do you know I’m not Ben, my brother?”
His eyes sparkled with humor. “Because if you were, that would mean the elastic Superman under the tree would be for you, and I think you’re a little old for that, don’t you?” He sat, the plate balanced on his lap. “I thought you wanted a cookie?”
I sprang over to him and grabbed one. “Does this mean I end up on the naughty list? You know, the whole bit about you seeing when I’m sleeping, knowing when I’m awake? Gotta be honest. I always thought that was a little creepy, you know? I mean, this guy in a red suit, watching me all the time?” He stared at me, and my face grew hot. I coughed. “Yeah, I guess that means I’m definitely on the naughty list, right?”
I still couldn’t believe my eyes.
Santa is real.
Santa is sitting on my couch.
If this was a dream, it was the coolest dream ever.
His eyebrows went high once more. “Please sit, Anthony. I’d like your company.” Then he smiled. “And about that list… You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. The fact that you walked in and caught me is something of a miracle. I was obviously a little distracted tonight.” Santa bit into the cookie. “Your mom makes the best cookies.”
I blinked, flopping onto the couch without a second thought. “You really eat them?”
He chuckled. “I’m not going to feed them to the reindeer. Dancer’s getting too fat anyway. She can have the carrots.”
“That part’s true? The reindeers’ names?” This had to be a dream. I was going to wake up any second, burrowed beneath my comforter.
“Sure it is. Except the Rudolph part. He’s a myth.”
“Until I walked through that door, I thoughtyouwere too.”
He locked gazes with me. “And now you know I’m not? Are you going to tell anyone?”
I squared my shoulders. “Nope. This is gonna bemysecret.” No one would believe me anyhow.
Santa beamed. “Good boy. In that case, we might get to do this again sometime. Would you like that? We could share some more cookies, and I could tell you things.”
“What kind of things?” I ate my cookie in two bites.
“Well, do you want to knowwhythere’s no Rudolph? All my reindeer are girls, and there’s no way they’d let a boy lead them.” He chuckled. “The very idea.”
“Do you really have elves?” This was fascinating.
Santa laughed. “I’m sorry, but that’s a story for another Christmas Eve. My night isn’t over yet, so I’d best be on my way.” He stood. “But thank you for keeping my visit a secret.” He cocked his head. “You like drawing, don’t you?”
I gaped. “How did you—” Then the light dawned. “You know that because of something you just put under our tree, don’t you?”
Those brown eyes really did twinkle. “Maybe?”
“Did you mean it?” I demanded.
“Mean what?”
“About us doing this again sometime.”
He frowned. “Of course. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. His skin was smooth and warm to the touch. “Now go back to bed and at leasttryto look surprised tomorrow when Ben opens his elastic Superman.” He released my hand before stroking my hair. “You’re a good boy, Anthony. He’ll forgive you.”