Since her high school days in the 1980s, Martha enjoyed Christmas shopping at the Mall of Minnesota. She loved the costumes, the lights, the music, but one mall tradition never appealed to her – up-skirt peeping. She never knew any men who got up-skirted. She considered up-skirting the men playing bagpipes near the mall entrance, but it was impossible with everyone watching.

Martha rented a locker to store her snow boots and sweatpants and put on a knit skirt decorated with cloth patches of Christmas ornaments that hung to her ankles. This hideous garment averted curious eyes, allowing her to achieve obscene credit debt in heavenly peace. Her six-inch heels prevented it from dragging on the floor.

The mall provided generous heat to counter Arctic temperatures outside which meant Martha could go pantieless, liberated from the bunching and discomfort of sweaty underwear. As she roamed the mall, she recognized faces from the skyway downtown. Familiar shoppers waved and called out, “Hello, Martha!”

Martha proudly modeled the skirt and giggled as they crumpled their noses. She perused a first-floor candy store but skedaddled when the teenage shopkeeper complained that her skirt knocked over popcorn canisters on the bottom shelf. She rode the escalator to the second floor to escape glass doors wafting cold air and gas fumes from the parking garage.

Martha yelped ecstatically as she entered a sleep-wear store and spotted the sheepskin slippers she had tried for weeks to track down. A professionally dressed woman approached her. “Those are our most popular slippers. We were lucky to get more after Black Friday.”

Martha tugged her skirt. “It must have been the lucky skirt.”

The woman forced a smile. “Oh, indeed. Aren’t we lucky?”

Martha brightened the woman’s day by announcing, “I love these slippers! I’ll buy two pairs, one in black, the other in chestnut to symbolize the Holiday spirit.”

The woman cheerfully carried the slippers and other luxurious attire to the counter and rung up Martha’s credit card. As Martha left the store she said, “Happy Holidays!”

The woman responded, “And a Merry Christmas to you!”

§

Martha’s feet ached after hours of shopping, so she kicked off the high heels and eagerly tried on her new slippers. She sighed as her ailing feet sank into the soft fur and sheepskin. She dropped the heels into a shopping bag and stepped onto the escalator, unaware her skirt was pinched between the deck boards.

The skirt tightened around Martha’s thighs and made a shredding noise as it tore away from her waist. Gawkers snickered and pointed at her exposed lower half. She turned to escape, but a crowd had already boarded the escalator behind her. She was only able to salvage the skirt when she reached the third floor.

Holding the tattered skirt around her waist, Martha ran into a men’s clothing store and asked the salesman if there was a fitting room available. The handsome thirty-something responded, “Yes, but you have to buy something.”

Martha huffed and the salesman gestured toward the back of the store. “Be my guest.”

Nearly an hour had passed and the salesman got concerned. He tapped on the fitting room door. “Are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

The salesman unlocked the fitting room and stepped inside, latching the door behind him. “Those are beautiful slippers. Are they new?”

Martha was unfazed. She sat on a bench with her head leaning against the wall. “Look, I really don’t want any company right now.”

The salesman saw Martha’s shoes in the bag. “Let me guess, you put on the slippers because your feet hurt from the heels.”

“You have a keen eye, but there’s a lot more to it than that.”

The salesman knelt and removed Martha’s slippers. He massaged her feet. “Does that feel better?”

Martha sat up. “Did you see what happened to me?”

“No. Did you get what you wanted for Christmas?”

Martha slumped and rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”

“Well, maybe we can fix that. Shopping is a substitute for something absent in your life.”

Martha sneered. “Now you’re being creepy. You don’t know anything about me.”

He nodded toward her shopping bag. “Why the swanky clothes? You only need one pair of slippers, yet you bought two.”

“So, I have cold feet. My life is none of your business.”

The salesman stood and shrugged. “Have it your way. I’ll leave you now.”

This stranger knew something Martha needed to find out. She stood and placed her hand on his shoulder. Her voice shook. “I don’t want to be lonely again this Christmas.”

Martha peeled off the skirt and lay face up on the bench. The salesman removed his suit and positioned himself between her legs. Their lips pressed together as he entered her slowly. The steady penetration made Martha dream of Albert, a past lover who died in a car accident on Christmas Eve in 2004.

The vision of Albert smiled through a haze. “I always loved you.”

Martha shook, pulling the salesman closer, and felt his hot breath on her shoulders. She started to call out “Albert” but caught herself before the word escaped.

The vision continued, “I never meant to leave you.”

The salesman held her tightly, pushing deeper, thrusting faster. Their bodies tightened and tingled.

The vision said, “Shed the disguises and enjoy life before it’s too late.”

Martha quivered from her orgasm as the salesman’s throbbing cock filled her with cum. She buried her face in his shoulder and moaned, “That was so good!”

Martha and the salesman shared an emotional kiss. Her eyes sparkled as she looked into his. “Thank you for being here for me. Perhaps I should have asked before – what’s your name?”

The salesman responded, “Al, short for Albert.”

“Al,” Martha repeated calmly. “I like that name.”

Al embraced Martha. “Thank you. You brought me so much joy this Christmas.”

Martha said, “You brought the best gift of all – a ghost of Christmas past.”