I’m taking part in a little 12 Days Of Christmas Celebration today over at Reading and Things Book Blog. I was asked one holiday themed question…and I think I may have gone overboard.
If you could reinvent a famous Christmas character (Rudolf, Frosty the Snowman, Jack Frost, Santa Claus, etc.) and write you own version of their story (like a fairytale retelling), which one would you choose? Why?
I’m so glad they’ve asked this because I’ve been pondering this for years…any by years…I mean minutes…and by minutes…I mean, I’m making this up as I go:
MRS. CLAUS. Kris Kringle’s Wifey. Mother Christmas. The ‘ol Ball & Chain. The woman behind the sled.
I mean really, who doesn’t want to know more about Mrs. Claus? For example…what’s her first name? Santa has a first name…Mrs. Claus just gets identified by her man’s last name…?
I’m gonna call shenanigans on that!
I’m thinking Mrs. Claus has a steamy back story. I’m thinking Mrs. Claus was on the naughty list and Santa saved her…and that’s why she goes by Mrs. Claus.
Here’s a short story I just whipped up…I hope you enjoy!
It’s the late 1800s…times are weird, there’s a lot of dust and livestock. The telephone had been invented but there was only like nine in the entire United States. Women’s roles were predominantly stuck at home tending to children and feeding their farming husbands. Life was mostly rural. Remote. Lonely. So lonely, that ‘ol Mrs. Claus….(her name was Scarlett back then)….got a wild hair up her ass and decided she needed more outta life. She ditched the domestic digs her father had threatened to marry her into for a couple of cows and a plow and traveled to New York City where she found the only job available to women back then…
She became a prostitute.
Now, Scarlett didn’t particularly want to be a whore, but jobs weren’t given to women back in those days, so she did the best she could. She got by. She slept with anyone that would pay her a fair wage (she wasn’t a cheap whore for the love of God). And she had gifts she needed to send home to her brothers and sisters. She cried herself to sleep most nights. She hated herself and what she had become, but she was free. Free from the rural prison she’d nearly been forced into.
One night, in the saloon that Scarlett worked at, a man walked in. A man named, Nick. Her whore colleagues all snickered and whispered when they saw him…referring to him as a God, a Saint. And boy was Nick a Saint. He was tall, dark, and handsome with chiseled abs just begging to be choked full with cookies. His jolly laugh made Scarlett’s breath catch in her throat. ‘Ol Saint Nick took one look at Scarlett and his whole world crumbled beneath him. Never had he seen such a sexy woman with such kind eyes. He had to have her. He had to talk to her.
When their eyes locked, Scarlett and Nick experienced that “insta-love” you only read about in contemporary romance novels (that weren’t even invented yet).
In only five long strides, Nick was standing in front of Scarlett, oblivious to the other girls fawning all over him. He looked Scarlett up and down, confounded that she was a whore too.
Scarlett leaned in and breathed deeply. Nick’s manly scent of cinnamon and evergreen made her weak in the knees. She licked her lips greedily. She couldn’t help it. It was an involuntary response her body had to this gorgeous man.
Nick noticed Scarlett’s response and without another word he clasped her hand in his and pulled her outside into the cold, winter air. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, he just knew he wanted to get Scarlett as far away from this place as possible.
When Scarlett followed him outside and saw the reindeer attached to his sleigh, she instantly dropped to her knees in front of one and he nuzzled her with his wet snout. She giggled and Nick’s heart stopped.
Dasher didn’t like anyone…how could he possibly like this woman? This whore? It didn’t make any sense.
Scarlett could feel Nick’s looming presence watching her. Needing to know what those big, red lips tasted like, Scarlett stood up and pressed her mouth to Nick’s without warning. He tasted like holly and chocolate.
Sparks exploded behind Nick’s eyes and he knew he’d found the love of his life. “I don’t even know your name.” Nick’s voice was guttural, pained, but his eyes glittered with adoration for the beautiful woman standing before him.
Scarlett didn’t want to give Nick her real name. She didn’t want to be the girl whose father nearly forced her to marry a stranger. She didn’t want to be the whore men paid for sex. The one men barely even looked at. She wanted to be everything this saintly man’s eyes were dreaming her up to be. She wanted to be his. Forever.
“I’ll be yours…if you’ll have me.”
Nick’s heart stopped the moment he realized that Scarlett was feeling the same intense love that he felt. “I hope you like the cold.” Nick said with a small laugh and kissed her again with all the adoration he could muster.
Mrs. Claus then…………………………….and Now. 🙂