Just Another Christmas story

Just Another Christmas

story

 

By Shawn Murray Copyright 1989

                It was a usual dark cold December night; the snow glistened with colored lights decorating the windows lining the street. The traffic was sparse, as were the number of people traveling on the bus with her, just a few last minute shoppers headed home to be with their families on Christmas Eve.

                The young woman stepped off the bus and followed the familiar road home. There on her right was the old lady whom had accosted her daily for pocket change. Normally she walked past the homeless woman as she did her begging but tonight the woman huddled alone, shivering in her corner. The woman looked up as she quietly strode past her and stopped.  She fumbled with her gloves as she dug in her pocket for change. The one time in her life she felt charitable and she didn’t have any change. She pulled out the last few dollars she had and held it out to the woman.

                “Merry Christmas, Ma’am,” the old woman smiled as she reached out for the money, her hand trembling as she did so.

                “Merry Christmas,” she replied. She’d done her good deed but found that she couldn’t turn away. She leaned over and placed her gloves in the woman’s lap, tugged her scarf from around her neck and gave it to the woman too as the old woman’s smile became wider, thanking her all the more. Still she hesitated to leave. She finally removed her wool coat and offered it too. The old woman stood, removed her old tattered coat and quickly wrapped herself in her new apparel. She could see the sparkle in the woman’s eyes and realized that she was not much older than herself.

                The woman thanked her over and over and finally offered her the worn tattered coat, “just ta keep da chill off ya while yer walkin’ home.”

                She thanked the woman, threw the coat over her shoulders and continued on her way home.

                As she climbed the stairs of her building, she fumbled in her pocketbook for her keys. The lights in the hallway were out again. She prayed that she had the right key as she inserted it in the door. It unlocked easily.

 

                John always arrived at her place before she got home. He had a fire going in the fireplace and dinner cooking in the oven. The apartment was always filled with a delicious aroma. They would snuggle up together and when dinner was ready, they would eat by the glow of the fire. John was always so romantic.

 

                But not anymore, at least not with her. Inside, the apartment was dark. She had forgotten to leave a light on before she left for work. She flicked on the light and shrugged off the coat. She shivered, not sure if it was from the cold or the empty feeling of her apartment. She convinced herself it was because of the cold. She went to the gas fireplace and lit it up. She caught sight of the dead bouquet of roses at the end of the mantle.

 

                John stealthily snuck into the apartment on Thanksgiving morning with a dozen long stemmed yellow roses; her favorite, always her favorite; and two bags of groceries.

                He surprised her by awakening her with the roses and a beautiful breakfast in bed. As they were finishing up the meal, he jumped up from the bed, explaining that he wanted to start working on the turkey.

                “What turkey?” she asked.

                “I brought a turkey for dinner. I thought we could have an early meal and then maybe go to my parents for dessert.  And to top the evening off, a drive out to the country to see the Christmas lights,” he said as he made his way to the kitchen.

                “But John…” She pulled on a robe as she followed after him. “You know I have to work today.”

                “Oh, that’s right, you’re one of the dependable people who work on holidays,” he teased. “Why don’t you call in sick?”

                “John, I have to work or I lose my holiday pay. You know I work every holiday, that’s part of working in a convenience store.”

                “I know,” he exasperated. Then a thought struck him.  “What time do you have to work?”

                “Eight to midnight.”

                “That’s no problem. I can have you back long before that.” He began digging through the bags looking for something.

                “But John, I was thinking we could just go out for dinner today.”

                He stopped what he was doing and stared at her. “It’s Thanksgiving. How can you think about going out to dinner?”

                “It’s just another day to me. Besides, there are restaurants open and neither you or I will have to slave over a stove and we won’t have to worry about leftover going bad in the refrigerator.”

                “But it’s a holiday. That’s what holiday’s are about.”

                “Are holiday’s about spending all your time and effort cooking for other people and no one being grateful for it?”

                “I guess it is!” he flared back at her as he turned to face her. “I spend my time and effort cooking for you because I want to and you’re never grateful, are you?” He started walking towards her. She backed away, frightened. “ I have dinner ready for you when you get home at midnight. I don’t have to do that but I do because if I didn’t, you wouldn’t eat anything but junk food. I stay up with you all hours of the night because you can’t sleep and let you sleep all day because you have to work at night. And you’re never grateful, are you? So why the hell would I think Thanksgiving would be any different?” He suddenly turned away from her.

                “Here, take this and stuff it!” he said as he picked up the turkey and threw it at her. She stepped aside as the bird flew into the wall and slumped to the floor.

                She stood in amazement as he grabbed his coat from the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

                “I’m really tired of this!” he said as he left the kitchen. “I’ve been invited to dinner with a family who’s grateful on Thanksgiving and every other day for that matter,” he screamed from the living room.  “I’m sure as hell that I’ll be much happier in their company!” He slammed the front door behind him.

                She stood there in the kitchen and wondered what had just happened.

 

                She found out later that night when she went to work. Jane, her best friend and co-worker, had asked John to join her and her family for dinner. John had accepted. 

 

                She threw the dried yellow roses into the fire and watched as the flames quickly engulfed the kindling. She turned on the stereo to nonstop Christmas carols as she left the room. She returned a moment later with an apple and a knife. She walked over to the Christmas tree, reached behind and plugged in the lights.

 

                She turned to see her little sister’s expression. The child-like enthusiasm on her face had put her into the Christmas spirit. She was glad her little sister had gotten the scrawny little tree, even though she knew Sally’s underlying intention was to cool her anger.

 

                Sally had ruffled her nerves the minute she had bounded in the door. She arrived two weeks after John had walked out.

                “Hi, sis,” she said as she walked in, dropped her bags, took off her coat and threw it on the sofa.

                “What are you doing here?” was the only thing she could say as she stood at the opened door of her apartment.

                “I came to see you…besides,” she said off-handedly, “I was on my way home from college and thought I’d stop to say ‘hi’. I’m going to stay for a couple days, okay?” she commented as she headed for the kitchen. “I’m starved, what cha got to eat?”

                “Help yourself,” she said, knowing full well that her sister was already in the refrigerator. “I was just leaving for work.”

                “Hey, Mom wants to know if you’re coming home for Christmas.” She emerged from the kitchen with a cold chicken thigh.

                “Mom knows I have to work on Christmas.”

                “You haven’t quit that job yet?”

                “No, Sally, not yet,” she said to appease her sister. “I’m leaving now so I don’t miss the bus. I’ll be home around 12:30 tonight. Make yourself at home.”

                Sally had already kicked off her shoes and had the television on. She didn’t even notice when her sister left.

 

                She didn’t want to wake Sally when she got home, so she tip-toed through the living room to her bedroom to change clothes.

                “Hey,” Sally moaned as the lights were turned on.

                Sally was asleep in her bed instead of on the sofa.

                “Sorry.” She turned on the small bedside lamp and shut off the overhead. Sally stretched out and started snoring.

                “Just make yourself at home and sleep in my bed, little sister,” she said sarcastically. “And please, be my guest, have the whole bed!” She grabbed the quilt from the bottom of the bed. She realized that she couldn’t even grab a pillow. Sally had her head on one as she hugged the other. She turned out the lamp and headed for the sofa.

 

                The next morning she awoke to the sound of the stereo blaring.

                “Sorry, did I wake you?” Sally asked when she saw that her sister was awake. She didn’t wait for an answer; out to the kitchen she bounded.

                “I’m going crazy,” was all she could say. She looked at her watch. Nine thirty. She groaned. She had tossed and turned for hours before drifting off. She threw off the quilt and headed for the bathroom. She needed a hot shower.

                She removed the wrinkled work clothes that she had slept in and turned on the water. She waited for it to heat up. She waited and waited.

                “Damn it,” she gritted her teeth as she turned off the water. She grabbed at the robe on the back of the door. Nothing. She wrapped herself in a towel and went to her room. There lay her robe and her satin nightgown, crumpled in the corner. She picked up the robe and slipped into it. It was damp and cold. “She’ll only be here a couple of days,” she kept murmuring to herself under her breath.

 

                “I borrowed some of your clothes,” Sally said as she entered the kitchen.

                “My new cashmere sweater and wool slacks look good on you,” she said, the sarcasm lost on her sister.

                “You think so? Pink’s not my color. You should have bought blue.”

                She gritted her teeth. “I see you like to take long hot showers in the morning,” she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

                “Yeah, it wakes me up,” she said as she stuffed her mouth with the last of her bacon and eggs breakfast.

                “I used to know what that was like,” she mumbled.

                “What was that?” Sally asked as she finished her glass of milk.

                “Oh, nothing,” she casually replied as she grabbed the carton of milk from the refrigerator.

                “By the way, you’re out of milk.”

                She shook the carton. Indeed, it was empty. She tossed it back into the refrigerator and closed the door.

                “Do you have a couple bucks I can borrow from you? I want to go shopping.”

                “How much do you need?” She asked as she went to retrieve her pocketbook from the living room.

                “About twenty-five or thirty.”

                “All I have is twenty,” she said as she pulled two tens from her wallet. “And that has…”

                “That’s good,” Sally said as she plucked both bills from her hand, grabbed her coat and bounded out the front door.

                “… to last me until I get paid.” A plastic smile curved her lips. “And dear little sister, would you be so kind as to bring home some milk.” She slammed down her pocketbook as the smile was replaced by disgust. She gathered up her sister’s dirty breakfast dishes.

 

                Sally walked in as she was headed out the door to work.

                “Where ya going?” she asked.

                “To work.”

                “Can’t you call off or something? I’m bored.”  Sally plunked herself down in the chair and threw her leg over the armrest.

                “I can’t just call off work for no reason. I have tomorrow off. We can do something then.”

                “Do you have any more money?”

                “Just enough to get me on the bus.”

                “Shit, then what am I supposed to do tonight?” She whined as she got up and flipped on the television.

                “Sorry,” she shrugged as she left the apartment with a smirk of a smile.

She arrived home that night to a kitchen full of dirty dishes and the welcoming arms of the sofa.

At least the next morning she was awakened by the blaring television instead of the stereo; some hard rock group on the music video station.

“Aren’t these guys hot?” Sally drooled.

“Real hot!” She rolled herself off the sofa.

She checked the milk supply from what she had brought home the night before. “Good, plenty for a cup of coffee.” She opened the cupboard to grab the coffee can; no coffee can. She shuffled through everything in the cupboard. Then she spotted it on the counter. She leaped at it before it got away. When she opened it, it was empty. “Oh God!” She tossed the can over her shoulder and let it clatter across the floor.

“God you’re a slob.” Sally said with a strange look as she grabbed the carton of milk from the refrigerator and drank straight from the carton.

 

“So Sally, what do you want to do today?”

“Go shopping.”

“I thought you went shopping yesterday.”

“So?”

“What did you buy?”

“Nothing.”

“What happened to the twenty dollars I gave you?”

“I spent it.”

“On what?’”

“Games.”

“What kind of games?”

“Video games.”

“You spent twenty dollars on video games?”

“Well, no.”

“What else did you spend it on?”

“Food.”

“Is that all?”

“And I gave some money to this cute kid playing King Ding-A-Ling.”

“Oh, King Ding-A-Ling?”

“Yeah, you should have seen him. He was sharp.”

“I bet he was.” She was playing along with her sister now.

“Yeah, he got high score on the game, too.”

“He should have.” She was being sarcastic but Sally was too infatuated with her memory to notice.

“Yeah, he was great.” She had a dreamy look on her face.

“Is he going to pay you back?”

“Pro’bly not. I didn’t get his name.”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“Mom always said not to talk to strangers. Besides you don’t know what kind of weirdo’s hand out in those places.”

“Oh, right.”

“Besides, it was only five bucks.”

“Only five, sure, no skin off my nose,” she said as she left the room.

 

                “Hey sis, look at this!” Sally exclaimed as she drug her sister into yet another store. “Mom would love this.” She pointed out one of those new fangled food processors where you couldn’t even figure out where to plug the damn thing in, if you even plugged the damn thing in.

                “Don’t you think mom would like a sweater or some perfume or something like that?”

                “No.”

“Are you sure mom would want one of these?”

 “Yeah, sure. She loves stuff like this.”

She almost choked on the price tag.

“Let’s find something else for mom.”

“No. I’ve already looked. Mom has everything else. She needs one of these.”

“Well, how about this one?” She was referring to a smaller food processor. It was a hell of a lot cheaper.

“No, the salesman said that this is the best money can buy. Mom deserves the best.”

“Oh, alright.”

“And this would be great for dad…”

“No! You already picked up something for dad. Forget it!”

“But…”

“No, Sally.”

She began to pout as they paid for the food processor. She had gotten paid that morning, walked out of work with a paycheck for two weeks work. She’d cashed it and now, after purchasing the food processor, had barely enough to cover rent, bills, groceries and bus fare for the next two weeks. Enough was enough. An entire weeks pay for Christmas gifts for her mother and father and of course, a gift for her sister Sally, all of whom she hadn’t intended to get gifts for this year. She’d already send Christmas cards with gift cards enclosed. Now, here she was spending money she couldn’t afford to spend. She had to think of her bills. Sally continued to pout all the way home.

 

“Sally, when are you going home?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A couple days, I guess.”

“When’s mom expecting you?”

“Yesterday”

“So why aren’t you home?”

“Well,… I don’t have a bus ticket.”

“Oh Sally!” she exasperated.

“I’m sorry!”

“Didn’t mom send you the money for a bus ticket?”

"Yeah."

“What’d you do with it?”

“Spent it.”

“On what?!!” she demanded.

“Christmas presents for my friends at school”

“Why didn’t you call mom?”

“Because she’d bitch.”

“How’d you get here?”

“I borrowed some money.”

She sighed heavily. “How much does the ticket cost?”

 “Well, it usually costs ninety-five from school.”

“Ninety-five dollars?”

“It’s a lot cheaper than flying.”

“So, how much is it going to cost from here?”

“Eighty.”

“Eighty?”

Sally nodded her head. She knew her sister was pissed.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Sally shrugged her shoulders.

She sighed heavily as she shook her head.

“I suppose I have to pay for your ticket,” she gave in. Sally smiled out of eye-shot of her sister.

“I can go down now and buy the ticket,” she offered.

“No!… I’ll go get it. You’re going home tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she agreed without a fight.

 

She had been surprised to see the scrawny pine tree in her living room when she returned from the bus station.

“You’ve done so much for me, I thought I could do something for you.” Sally said with a slight smile. She hoped her sister wasn’t still mad at her.

“Where’d you got the money?”

Sally looked hurt. “I scraped together a few bucks. Besides, it was really cheap.”

“Sally, I’m sorry. It’s really nice. Thank you,” she said as she gave her little sister a hug.

“Can we decorate it?”

“I have to go to work but if you get the decorations from the attic, we’ll decorate before you leave tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Great. I have to get ready for work now.”

 

She awoke in much the same manner she had every morning since Sally had arrived. Only this morning Sally was preoccupied with thoughts of decorating the tree, Christmas Carole’s blaring on the stereo.

She crawled out from under the quilt. Either she was getting used to the sofa or the sofa was getting used to her; she didn’t know.

She started a fire in the fireplace, got a cup of coffee with milk as Sally pulled the decorations out of their boxes. They spent hours stringing lights, putting the star on top, putting the bulbs and garland on, all the while singing along with the music. She smiled as she watched her little sister. She looked so happy. She was a student in college but she had never grown up. ‘Too bad,’ she thought, ‘I guess I didn’t help matters much by buying her ticket home but oh well, I only get to see her once a year if I’m lucky,… or unlucky, whichever the case may be.’ She smiled.

Sally insisted on giving her the honors of plugging in the lights. The two girls stood in awe; Sally in awe of the tree, her sister in awe of the youngest. Her little sister had done the impossible. She’d gotten her into the Christmas spirit, something she herself hadn’t been able to do this year.

She looked at her watch. “Oh shit! Your bus leaves in forty-five minutes. We’ve got to get you to the bus station.”

“Right,” Sally said as she flew to pack her things.

 

She stood watching as her sister stepped onto the bus. Suddenly she felt alone again as Sally turned to wave goodbye. She stood with tears in her eyes long after the bus had departed.

 

A solitary tear stole down her cheek. She wiped it away with a rush of her hand. She sliced off a chunk of the apple she had in her hand and popped it into her mouth.

She sat down on the sofa facing the tree. She placed the knife and the apple down on the coffee table after she sliced off another chunk and ate it. She bundled herself up in the quilt, her fingers lightly caressing it.

 

“You make sure you thank your grandmother for that gift,” her mother said turning to her husband. “Do you know how much she spent on that?” She was referring to a porcelain doll her daughter had just unwrapped.

“I’m sure it’s not as much as we spent on Sally’s speed bike,” Dad said.

“You’re right,” mom agreed. “Here, this one is from your aunt. Now don’t expect too much, dear. She doesn’t have much money to spend on Christmas gifts.”

She slowly opened the gift to reveal the handmade quilt. It was beautiful.

“She must have made that,” mom replied. “My poor sister, she married that bum and she doesn’t even have enough money to buy a simple little gift. She has to make them.”

She loved it. Her aunt was her favorite relative. Her aunt loved her enough to put enough love into that quilt to make up for the love she had to buy from her parents. Her aunt didn’t try to buy her love the way her parents did, and she loved her all the more for it. She cherished that quilt the moment she saw it and had ever since.

This year there wouldn’t be any gifts under the tree. There wouldn’t have even been a tree if it hadn’t been for her sister. John wouldn’t be here to share Christmas. Jane wouldn’t. Her family wouldn’t. It will be just another lonely day, she sighed, as the lights grew blurred.

 

She awoke suddenly to the sound of someone knocking on the front door. She wondered who it was since it was Christmas morning. She threw off the quilt and went to answer the door. She opened the door and there stood John holding an armload of beautifully wrapped gifts.

“Hi, honey. We knew you’d be alone on Christmas and no one should be alone on Christmas, so… here we are,” he said as he made his way into the house.

Standing behind him was Jane holding gifts. “I know you’re probably very pissed as me right now but am I welcome to come in?”

She stood there a moment. ‘I should slam the door in her face,… but, oh what the hell, it’s Christmas,’ she thought. “Yes, Jane, you’re welcome to come in. Merry Christmas,” she said cheerily.

Jane smiled as she entered the house and headed towards the tree where she unloaded the gifts she was carrying.

Behind Jane were several co-workers, John’s parents and a few of John’s friends she had met a couple of times. She welcomed them all with tears in her eyes as they bequeathed upon her a ham and all the fixin’s for a beautiful Christmas meal. She headed to the kitchen where she knew John would be.

“I’m really sorry I left you the way I did,” he said as she walked in. “Will you forgive me?”

“You were forgiven the moment you showed up on my doorstep,” she said as she kissed him. “Merry Christmas,” she smiled.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” he smiled.

She was happy.

“Now you go out there and mingle with your guests while I cook this wonderful meal. We have to make sure you eat before you have to run off to work.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

“Sure, I’m sure. Go mingle!” he teased as he lightly shoved her toward the doorway.

“I love you,” she said as she turned back toward him.

“I love you too,” he said as he began doing whatever it was you do to a Christmas ham. She smiled. She couldn’t believe that they were all here.

Jane came up to her. “I called your parents. The wanted to come down but it was just too short of a notice.”

“Thank you, Jane.”

Just then the phone rang.

“That must be your parents now,” Jane said excitedly. “They said they’d call to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Jane. But thanks,” she said s she hugged her friend and went to get the phone.

RING.

RING.

RING.

‘Pick it up,’ she thought.

RING

RING.

‘Pick it up!’

She awoke to the ringing.

RING.

“Hello?”

Everyone was gone. No friends. No Jane. No presents under the tree. No John out in the kitchen cooking a wonderful Christmas meal.

“Merry Christmas,” a female voice cheerily rang out from the other end of the phone.

“Thank you and Merry Christmas to you too.” She couldn’t quite place the voice but maybe….

“You know your idea of a tricycle for little Timmy was great. He loves it. He barely noticed his other gifts when he came downstairs. He saw that tricycle and jumped right on it. We had to hand him his presents while he was on the tricycle or he wouldn’t open them. Right now he’s riding it all over the house. I can’t wait until spring so we can….

“A,… excuse me, but I think you have the wrong number.”

“This isn’t Carol?”

“No, I’m sorry,….” The line went dead.

She sat there for a moment staring at the receiver in her hand. When it started making loud noises she hung up. There were Christmas Carols playing on the radio.

“… I’ll have a blue Christmas without you….”

She felt numb. No, actually she just didn’t feel anything. She didn’t think anything. She picked up the knife and held it out in front of her. The lights sparkled, reflecting the cold stainless steel.