Mrs. Claus -- A Snapshot

I find myself thinking and thinking and thinking about how to ask Mrs. Claus about the truth regarding the Jippy rumor, but my mind keeps reeling back to a moment during the hour I spent with her at her New Year's Eve Party.
Now, first of all, I wish I'd known that Mrs. Claus actually throws the New Year's Party, that the whole thing is really her event. Had I been in possession of that knowledge, I would almost certainly not have wasted my time trying to look for her in the 2 days immediately preceding it. I guess that's what you get for being new here, though...you do basically have to figure things out on your own, as you go. And of course it now makes sense that Mrs. Claus stated so honestly to me in her note that she was aware I'd been unsuccessfully looking for her, but had been busy.
Mrs. Claus is an exceptionally honest person. She is so honest that people, when they are near her, know exactly what she thinks of them without her having to say a thing. However, personal details around HER remain a mystery. I don't doubt, for instance, that she would tell any querent the exact date of her birth, but no one seems to ask, and it is very difficult to determine how old she actually is. If she is old, she certainly doesn't look it. (But I wonder whether she isn't using some of her gracious and charming personality to distract from the asking of these very questions.)

I saw her soon after I'd arrived at her party (and for the record, Mrs. Claus throws a wonderful party). She was sitting on a couch at the end of the room, on an elevated platform in an alcove, and she asked me to come up and sit with her. I did so, and instantly felt quite comfortable sitting next to her, looking out at everyone and watching the conversations and the goings-on. Her presence had a relaxing effect on me, which was welcome...especially as I was in possession of a rather awkward question to ask. Of course, the longer I sat with her, the more I knew that it was going to be very, very delicate to ask her this question.
I was wearing the dress she'd chosen for me, and she was sitting back against a dark red and black fur coat. At one point she put her arm around me and adjusted the fur (it was very soft) so that it wrapped around my back as well.
As we were sitting there, talking about people at the party, she touched my arm and brought it onto her lap. She was running her fingers over the inside of my arm, almost absentmindedly, and the feeling was pleasant, so I did nothing but continue the conversation. A couple of minutes later, I began to notice that she was actually making designs -- almost like writing -- on my arm.
I watched. I read, "People are defined by their secrets" "Inside their own minds".