Truck
Vanna’s son shouted again, this time wordless, and launched himself around her and at Truck. Bracing, because while the kid was clearly all boy, he was still as big as a man. Truck’s arms closed around Kitt when he hit Truck’s chest, holding them both upright with some effort. “SANTA!” Shouting into his shoulder, the boy was bouncing up and down in place, jolting him with every jump. “MOM! SANTA!”
“Honey,” Vanna’s voice sounded strained and Truck lifted his head to see her eyes were fixed on her son’s back. “Kitt…” Trailing off, her voice was soft, but still strained and he saw she had rolled her lips between her teeth, biting down hard. Lifting her chin, she reached out one arm, hand hovering just over the boy’s shoulder as she said, “Kitt, I need you to let the man go.”
“SANTA!” Head shaking back and forth vigorously, Kitt, because surely that was the boy’s name, loudly refused. “NO!” His arms tightened around Truck’s chest and squeezed hard, then relaxed a little when Truck didn’t release him or push away. Softly, quietly, Kitt sighed, “Santa came.”
Truck caught Vanna’s eyes and smiled, hoping she would understand what he was about to do. From her reaction it was obvious her son was…different. Her caution in touching him shouted how out of character it must be for the boy to have wrapped himself around a stranger. Kitt’s vocabulary seemed limited, but she wasn’t restricting herself to baby talk, so Truck assumed Kitt understood more than he said.
Squeezing Kitt gently, he said, “Of course I came. I always take care of the good boys.” Kitt’s jumps had slowed, but at Truck’s words they turned back into bounds, the boy’s shoulder catching him under the chin with every other jarring hop. “But, good boys don’t get their presents in the middle of the night. Good boys wait until morning, when their mothers say it’s okay to be up and about.” The hops stopped abruptly and he saw Vanna’s face pale. “I think you’re a good boy, Kitt. Are you a good boy?”
Head nodding fast, Kitt still held on, fists pressed into Truck’s back, fingers clutching the shirt underneath his cut. “Santa.”
“Yes, Kitt?” Arms slowly relaxing, he leaned back, looking down as Kitt moved slightly away.
“I good.” Eyes darting back and forth across Truck’s face, Kitt came to a decision. “Santa good.”
“Yes, honey,” Vanna crooned, “Santa knows you’re a good boy. Let’s get you back upstairs and tucked in. It’s been a busy few days, no wonder you are up early. Everything all thrown off track.” Her palm landed between Kitt’s shoulder blades and she stroked slowly up and down. The steady, even pressure of her caress transferring to Truck through the boy’s body as he melted at his mother’s touch. Kitt liked the feel of that, and even liking it, Truck suspected the boy didn’t often allow it.
“No, stay Santa. Want stay Santa.” Kitt’s grip tightened again but Vanna’s soothing touch never faltered.
“Santa has lots of other houses to visit, honey. He was just finishing up here. He’s gonna have to head out.” She edged closer, reaching out to balance herself with a hand on Truck’s bicep. “Just finishing up, so you can have Christmas in the morning. In the morning, honey. Not right now. You want to have Christmas in the morning, right? So do the other good boys and girls, so Santa’s gonna have to travel to their houses, too.”
“Santa go?” The kid sounded heartbroken and he burrowed his face into Truck’s shoulder, resting his forehead there for a moment. “Santa go.” This wasn’t a question, but an acceptance of the inevitable and Truck’s mouth got tight at the sadness echoing through the boy. Then Kitt turned acceptance into a demand. “Like Santa. No go. Santa no go.”
“Santa likes you, too, Kitt,” Truck said immediately and Kitt stood straighter, tipping his chin up to look at Truck’s face. “Santa likes you a lot, kiddo.”
Tilting his head to one side, Kitt dipped an ear to his shoulder as he looked at Truck’s vest. “That not say Santa.” He was focused on the name patch stitched to the right-hand lapel of the vest, and Truck grinned. “Santa?”
“Yeah, Kitt?”
“Not Santa?” Kitt lifted a hand and tugged gently on Truck’s beard, pulling a laugh from him.