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As I’ on my coat, Connor is meant to be asleep, safe in his dreaht that would be too risky--if we got caught, not only would we be in trouble, but the gig would be up with Riley Lana and his mother are supposed to be asleep, too--I don’t think they have any idea I’ue idea of who I am in the first place It’s Riley who’s supposed to be awake--if not right at thisroom This is all for her six-year-old eyes to take in I wouldn’t be doing it otherwise

I also have a gift ofdesperately not to srasp in the dark for my boots and , and I spent way too et him He says presents aren’t important, but I think they are--not because of how much they cost, but for the opportunity they provide to say I understand you Plus, there was the risk factor: When I ordered the present three weeks ago, there was always the slim chance ouldn’t make it to Christmas But that hasn’t happened We’ve made it

Once I’m dressed, I find it near impossible to slide into the front seat with any ease Iwheel in order to lever my Santatude into the driver’s seat Suddenly, I understand the appeal of an open sled

I have only been to Connor’s house a few ti His roup of friends, a body on the couch or a face over a bowl of chips, because Connor and I were very much part of a six before we decided to become a two Every now and then, Riley would visit our adolescent playground, steal some of our snacks, flirt hoever would pay attention to her Lana, meanwhile, would stay in her rooh to haunt any sound ere trying toup the driveway in a Santa suit, so I park at the curb, in front of the house next door I can only iine what I must look like as I step out of the car--the street is eerily quiet, its ownlike a roly-poly eood will, I picture rade horror movie--Santa’s Slay Ride!--about to wreak havoc on soent, underdressed youth Then I realize I’ve left Connor’s key inmyself look like an incompetent serial killer

Plus, the beard itches

Even though we’re Jewish, my parents insisted at first that Santa did, in fact, exist He just never came to our house The way they presented it, it was a tio to so ht," they told ht days of Hanukkah But you can wave to him as he flies past, if you want"

This e I would stay up late on Christhbors’ house These neighbors, who had a boy e, were the real reason I wasn’t told the truth about Santa--e the minute I learned it, which was not an incorrect assumption I had already ruined the Easter bunny foraround the world to give presents sees just seeave me the information I needed to expose the truth Our conversation went so like this:

Him: "Santa’s other name is Saint Nick"

Me: "Saint Nick Claus?"

Him: "No Just Saint Nick For Saint Nicholas"

Me: "But aren’t all saints dead? Like, if Santa Claus is a saint, doesn’t thathim Then he burst into tears

I have been given very explicit instructions, as if this is some one-man production of Ocean’s Eleven The presents have already been placed under the tree, and the stockings have already been stuffed, and I aree, then jostle Riley’s doorfra in place I have made Connor assure me at least a half dozen times that his mom doesn’t keep a firearm under her bed He swears that she does not, and that she will be so tranq’d up that I could ride a full coterie of reindeer through her bedroom and she still wouldn’t wake up I fear this has implications for fire safety, but keep that fear to myself

I want Connor to be awake I want hih the kitchen without hi the shelter silence of the hallithout having his breathing there as well I know his presence would ruin the charade, but I want his, my own yuletide Cyrano

Instead I have pictures of hi over me, pictures of him and his sisters, with an occasional caet closer to the living roo at ht beneath my boot I fear a rip at any time

The roos of colored lights There’s a star at the top, and I think that, yes, this is how it’s supposed to be--the point of a Christmas tree is to look like all the other Christmas trees, but still be a little bit your own There aren’t as ined there would be--I have to re with Von Trapps here--there are only four people in this house And there’s only one day of Christ the presents to the base of the fireplace--but if I’ to have to fake it authentically, and make it look like the chiirth I keepI want is Riley waking up and seeing Santa pulling her presents from under the tree, which would totally bedevil our plans When the right nuifts have been safely stationed, I add oing to leave it, and I like the idea of surprising him

I am not usually up this late without a computer open in front of me The heat in the rooain of what I’s, because I’ back in the right place