Venice Beach, CA
“Knock, knock,” Janie said lightly as she peeked her head around my door. Her locks flamed around her face. My favorite face of all time. “You okay Gigi-girl?”
I was cuddling with Princess Pearl Gray, my special stuffed rabbit. “Lucas says Santa isn’t real and a bunch of other kids said he’s right.”
“Where did he get such a lie!” Janie’s expression was incredulous.
“He said his brother told him and his brother is in high school.”
“Well, I think that is really sad. They have no idea what they’re missing.”
“What do you mean?” I pulled my sleeve down over my hand so I could wipe my nose with it.
“Before I can tell you, I need to ask a very important question. What I’m about to say cannot be said to just anybody. Are you willing to answer truthfully?” Janie had her famous twinkle in her eye, loaded with mystery and mischief.
I nodded.
“Do you still believe in Santa? Or do you believe that poser Lucas?”
I had to think for a second. It wasn’t only Lucas who said Santa was a lie, but practically our entire first grade class agreed. And it wasn’t like Mrs. Thomas had denied it. I was confused. “Do you believe in Santa?” I asked my sister.
“Of course I do!” she said.
“Then, yes, I believe in Santa still.”
“Great choice Gigi, because here’s the scoop. But first, promise not to tell just anybody?” she offered out her pinky which I knew meant this was serious information.
I locked my pinky with hers.
Janie looked around the room carefully and over her shoulder before leaning in to whisper, “So, the truth is, Santa only visits those who believe.”
My eyes widened.
“Think about it,” she continued. “The thing people can never make sense out of is how he visits every house in one night, right?” I nodded. “Well, obviously that’s ridiculous, there’s like a billion houses. So, he only goes to the houses where they believe in him which is how he gets it all done, because lots of kids are crazy enough to believe the terrible rumors. Which by the way are usually started by stinky older brothers. The truth is, Santa is a genius.”
“Really?” I said feeling much better.
“Sister's honor,” she said. “I’m bound by the Code of Big Sisters to tell the truth. And I have a surprise for you.”
“I already know,” I said, “Mommy’s making gingerbread.”
She giggled, “Not that smarty-pants!” She tickled my sides. As I squealed and squirmed she said, “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
Janie held my hand and led me down the narrow staircase of our beach cottage and towards our living room.
“How are my girls?” Mom asked as she rolled out her dough.
Janie looked down at me. “Better?”
“I still believe in Santa Mommy!” I flashed my toothless grin and clung to Janie’s arm in a hug.
“Mom, I think it’s time,” Janie stated.
“Time?” Mom looked confused for half a second and said, “Oh, you mean it’s time!”
“Time for what?” I jumped up and down in little bursts like pop-rocks on the tongue.
“Yup,” said Janie. “She needs to see it.” My mother and Janie were having a full conversation with their eyes while they let the suspense build for me. They were always talking without words.
“See what?” I could hardly stand it. I’d followed Janie over to the table where my after school snack remained untouched. Well until my sister began to eat the veggies. I grabbed a slice of apple and placed a square of cheddar cheese over it.
“Miracle on 34th Street,” Mom finally answered. “Basically, it offers undeniable facts that Santa is real!”
“It does?” I asked, spraying crumbs from my cracker filled mouth as excitement oozed from me.
“Yup,” said Janie. “Mom showed it to me when I was your age. After silly Lindsey Schafer tried to tell me Santa wasn’t real. And I’ll tell you, it is very convincing!”
“Can we watch it now before homework?” I looked at Janie and then remembered that was actually a Mom-directed question so I refocused my puppy-dog face over to her.
“Absolutely,” Mom laughed. “Why don’t you girls help me get these into the oven and I’ll watch with you.”
“Deal,” my sister and I said in unison before bursting into giggles.