Dear Santa

2. Carmen

Carmen set the letter down and leaned back in her office chair. When the senior partner of the accounting firm had excitedly tossed this "Letters to Santa" project in her lap, Carmen hadn't exactly jumped for joy. The woman had blathered on about giving back to their community, showing the softer side of accounting or some such nonsense.

Carmen wasn't the sentimental type. Sloppy letters from snotty children demanding ridiculous toys were not her idea of boosting community pride. But this...

She picked up the letter and examined the elegant handwriting. This was someone baring her soul. She could relate to the thoughts on this page. It had taken Carmen ages to admit to herself that she liked women. Had taken even longer to utter the word lesbian to the mirror. To this day, her Latin family still couldn't understand why she would "choose" to live this "lifestyle".

At least they still talk to me, she supposed. The support groups she'd gone to were full of people whose families had ostracized them. Just for being gay.

She shook the ruminations from her head and focused on the small stack of hand-written letters on her desk. She was supposed to write back to these kids as if she was Santa, but she had no idea what she was supposed to say. How about, Dear kid, there's no such thing as Santa Claus. Now stop whining for more useless crap and go clean your room.

The thought made her smile.

"See? I knew you'd enjoy it! Keep up the good work!" The senior partner who'd come up with this onerous idea had paused at her doorway, blurted her enthusiasm, and then raced off with such briskness, Carmen could almost see the cartoon dust cloud kicking up in the woman's wake.

Carmen sighed. Her eyes drifted back to Leona's letter. She liked that name, Leona.

Leona the graphic designer.

Leona the lonely lesbian.

Carmen smiled at the alliteration.

Leona, who worked somewhere walking distance from here.

The thought did funny things to her usually carefully guarded feelings. Something about the wistful tone of the letter had wormed its way past Carmen's armor and touched a part of her psyche she thought had shriveled up long ago.

She made up her mind. She would write back. Show Leona she wasn't as alone or lost as she thought. The girl just needed a sympathetic ear. Why else would she have dropped the letter into the box instead of burning it like she'd planned?

Carmen pushed the other letters aside, tore a sheet of paper from her legal pad, and began to write.