The Love Letters: A Novella by Ashley Pullo

Author:Ashley Pullo
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Gimlet Girls Publishing
Published: 2015-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

1400 hours

“Thank you for taking me to Virgil’s,” I say as Natalie and I walk hand in hand down Fifth Avenue.

“Eh, what’s not to love? There’s something very erotic about watching you go at a slab of ribs . . . the way your tongue licks the sauce from your fingers and then you dramatically suck off the tiny pieces of meat from the bone – hot.”

I grab her and bring her close to me, ignoring the customary flow of sidewalk traffic. Christmas shoppers zigzag around us, cursing under their breath. Taxi drivers press their horns, pretzel vendors scream, the Salvation Army bell rings, street performers sing – but all I can hear is her laughter. Ma femme.

“Let’s go see Santa,” Nat suggests with big, child-like eyes.

“Perfect. Macy’s?”

“No, at the fucking North Pole.”

We pick up some hot chocolate and roasted cashews on our stroll down Fifth, doing our best to avoid the crowds of people gawking at the window displays. Of course when we reach Macy’s, the line to see Santa is jammed packed with snotty-nosed kids screaming and crying. We’re the only idiotic adults without kids meandering through a candy cane village, but it’s moving rather quickly. Why? Because there’s like fifteen Santas hidden in different gingerbread houses. What a scam.

When we reach our designated North Pole, Natalie plops down on the iconic red velvet lap and waves me over.

“Ho, ho, ho! C’mon dude, you’re never too big for Santa,” he quips.

I casually sit on the little bench next to St. Nick and cross my arms, trying to hide my enthusiasm.

“Have you been good this year?” Santa asks Natalie.

She adorably bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head. “Not really. But he has.” Natalie winks at me and I smile.

“Ho, ha, ha, the beautiful lady’s been naughty!” Santa turns to me and asks, “What can Santa bring you?”

I don’t even acknowledge him because a) he’s thirty and flirting with my girl and b) I’m looking at what I want.

“All right, smile for the camera! Folks, look at the camera. You need to look at the camera for the picture. Look at the camera. Look at the – oh fuck it.” The Elf takes the photo and Santa pushes me off his bench.

“Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas! Exit is to your left.”

I purchase the photo from the Elf and stick it inside my coat pocket. Natalie and I finish the whimsical candy cane tour and take a ride on the vintage escalators before rushing out into the pandemonium of 34th Street.

“What next?” I ask.

“Ice skating!”

“Ah, shit. Really?”

“I know you played hockey in high school . . . and later, I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue,” she whispers.

“Deal.”

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