The Secret Santa.
Cait could feel the innocuous looking piece of paper burning a hole in the bottom of her pocket. The piece of paper only contained seven little letters, but each one felt as though it weighed at least a pound. Jessica. The name of her secret santa. And also the woman she’d been hopelessly crushing on for the past 8 months, ever since the other woman had joined the company.
They worked on the same floor of their company’s office block, however apart from the occasional conversation about coffee and the mysterious milk thief, the two woman hadn’t ever really spoken to each other. It wasn’t for a lack of trying on Cait’s part, but for some reason whenever she tried to talk to Jessica her brain seemed to forget how to form any of the words she’d learned in the 24 years she’d been alive.
Now she had to think of something to her, something that was both original and was under the £15 limit imposed on the office secret santa. She wanted to stay away from chocolate, wine, or a pen organiser, but was struggling for ideas. She tried to look in Jessica’s cubicle to get some ideas of what to get the other woman but unlike her own, cubicle which was covered in photos, osters, and general clutter, Jessica’s cubicle was almost bare.
In fact the only decoration within the cubicle, if it could even be called that, was a scrawled note written on a post-it, in a language that Cait didn’t recognise. It simply said “ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.” Cait knew that she wanted to do something for the other woman that involved the phrase, which a quick google search ahd revealed belonged to a post-apocalyptic drama with a lesbian warrior commander (instantly landing it a place on Cait’s watch list), however she couldn’t decide what she wanted to do with it.
The perfect opportunity presented itself just days later when, as Cait was making herself a cup of coffee in their floor’s staff room, she heard the unmistakable sound of a mug smashing and a quiet “shit” come from behind her. She turned around to find Jessica staring forlornly at the remnants of a rainbow coloured mug on the floor. Cait automatically went to help Jessica clean up the pieces of the mug, with the only words being exchanged between the two women being a very quiet “that was my favourite mug” being uttered by Jessica.
The following week, on the day of the secret santa, Cait saw the biggest smile on Jessica’s face as she unwrapped a brand new mug with “ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim” printed on one side and a very distinctive looking warpaint and cog on the other side. There was a post it note on the inside with a hastily scrawled note that had been stuck inside before Cait could change her mind. A note that said “It may not be as cool as a rainbow, but I hope this makes up for the mug that had a disagreement with gravity – Cait”
It was three hours later when Cait got an email through from Jessica. “It’s not a rainbow, but I think it’s probably cooler. Coffee?”