An Evergreen Christmas

by Tanya Goodwin

  Sam twisted his lips. “Yeah. Right out of the box.”

  “Sam! You get in here this minute,” his mother called from the open door.

  “I’ll be right there, mom.”

  Holly raised her hand and waved to Sam’s mom. “I’ll walk him over, Mrs. Roberts.”

  Holly strode next to Sam, restraining from holding his hand. Humiliation on any day would stink, but this was Christmas. She waited for Sam to trudge to the door stoop.

  Mrs. Roberts waved back. “I’m sorry Sam nearly beaned you with that helicopter, Dr. Green. It was his father’s idea of a gift!”

  Holly waved back. “It’s okay. It was an accident. All good now! Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas to you and your family, Dr. Green.”

  She waited for the door to shut. Holly shook her head. Poor Sam. She’d send over some chocolate chip cookies to him later.

  Holly hopped over the ice patches and skipped up her porch steps. She stuck her key in the door, but it was unlocked. Holly eased the door open. A swirl of hot turkey and nutmeg spiced apples teased her nose. Her lashes webbed with tears. Mom’s apple pie!

  “Hello? Mrs. Shale?”

  She always went to Aunt Mae’s for Christmas Dinner. What was going on?

  Aunt Mae popped her head around the corner of the kitchen. “Oh, Holly! You’re home. Her aunt strode towards her, wiping her wet hands on her poinsettia print apron. She stopped a few feet before Holly. Aunt Mae’s chest rose up and down beneath her apron. She drew a deep breath, her eyes never wavering from Holly’s. Aunt Mae swiped her hands one more time. “I thought we’d have Christmas dinner here, in your house, since Mrs. Shale’s already over here, and, uh, I didn’t want to tire her out.” Aunt Mae waved her hands defensively. “I’ll do everything. You just rest. Long night, dear?”

  Holly didn’t answer her. Instead she threw off her coat and hat and tossed them on the coat rack. She peeled off her boots, and then ran in her stocking feet right into Aunt Mae’s arms. Holly sobbed on her aunt’s shoulder, inhaling the holiday kitchen scent in the fibers of her apron.

  “I love you, Aunt Mae.”

  Aunt Mae stroked Holly’s hair. “Bad night, Sweetheart?”

  Holly gulped back her tears. “Unbelievably bad and unbelievably good.” She snorted and pulled away from her aunt’s shoulder. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Okay,” Aunt Mae said softly.

  Holly kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for doing all this.”

  Aunt Mae raised a pensive brow. “Really? I can stop now and take all the food to my house.”

  Holly squeezed her. “Don’t you dare!”

  Aunt Mae tapped Holly on her shoulders. “Go take a nice hot shower and a nap. I’ll wake you up when dinner’s ready.”

  Holly squinted. “Uh, Aunt Mae. I invited Noel.”

  Aunt Mae raised her arms and then cupped Holly’s cheeks. “Oh, how wonderful, child! You belong together. I’ll set an extra plate.” Her aunt then narrowed her eyes at Holly, but her lips curled into a smile. “Something indeed happened at that hospital.”

  “It did, Aunt Mae. It did.”

  Holly turned around, and was about to head upstairs, when Noel’s bare evergreen tree stared right at her. She froze. The tree sat in the corner of her living room, aching for ornaments to dangle from its plump branches.

  Aunt Mae rushed over to Holly and put her arm around Holly’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, dear. There’s no one to pick up the tree on Christmas Day. We had to leave it there, at least until tomorrow.”

  Holly darted her eyes to the boxes of ornaments surrounding the tree, one with its lid ajar. It was the same box Holly had opened the other night, the one with her snowman.

  “Oh...” Aunt Mae sighed. “I was so busy with preparing dinner that I forgot to put those boxes back into the attic.”

  “That’s okay,” Holly said softly.

  She eased from her aunt’s embrace and inched toward to the tree, kneeling in front of the forgotten evergreen she had unknowingly chosen. Holly gently lifted the stray lid off the ornament box housing her snowman. She reached inside it and pulled the aged, but still glittery bulb by its silver metal hook, dangling her favorite childhood ornament from between her fingers. The snowman danced before her eyes. Holly softly laughed, mesmerized by the jolly little guy as if this was the first time she was seeing him. And after all these years, tucked away in a box, it certainly seemed all so new to her. But it wasn’t. Ever since her father had bought her that snowman, it was the first one to grace her family’s Christmas tree and the last one to be put back into the box, stored safely away in the attic until the next Christmas. Next Christmas never came after the accident, her snowman sealed from her sight. Until now.

  In the hush of her living room, Aunt Mae’s breaths dove in between Holly’s flaring puffs as she raised the frosted, snowman bulb high above her head. Her father had used to swing his big arms around her waist and lift her up, holding her tight as she hung her beloved ornament high in the tree. Now Holly could easily reach it, but she’d give anything to feel his arms once again. The tree branch responded with a slight bounce as Holly clipped her snowman into place. She gave a short sniff before turning around to face Aunt Mae.

  “How does it look?” Holly asked.

  Aunt Mae clapped. “Beautiful, just beautiful. Your mom and dad, I know, are smiling right now. So proud of you, and the woman you’ve become.”

  Holly ran to Aunt Mae and melted in her aunt’s embrace. It was not her father’s or her mother’s arms, but the arms that blanketed her were from the woman who loved her just as much. And hopefully Noel’s touch would be next.

  “I’ll finish the rest of the tree before dinner, I promise,” Holly sniffed.

  “It’s okay. Slow down, dear.” She winked at Holly. “Perhaps Noel will help you decorate the tree. The two of you did pick it out...in a way.”

  Holly jerked back from Aunt Mae. “Noel!” She glanced at her watch. “Two o’clock! He’ll be here in an hour. I better getting ready.” Holly kissed Aunt Mae on the cheek and bolted up the staircase. She had to get to that hatbox stashed in the back of her closet.

  ***

  Holly quickly showered and then rummaged in her closet in her bathrobe and bunny slippers, her wet hair wrapped in fluffy white towel turban spiraling up from her head. She gently shoved out Aunt Mae’s and Mrs. Shale’s wrapped presents; a quilted throw for Mrs. Shale and the single cup coffee maker that Aunt Mae had had her eye on all year, vowing she was going to get one of those one of these days. She drew a deep breath. It has to be here somewhere. Her heart raced as she swept her hand across the top shelf in her closet. There it was, the hatbox containing Noel’s gift, hidden behind a stack of scarves. She grabbed it off the shelf and ran to her bed. Holly tossed the hatbox onto the bed and flipped off the lid. The red-boxed leather keychain she had bought him lay at the bottom nestled in white tissue paper. The tissue crinkled as Holly flung it aside, pulling out Noel’s present like a pearl from an oyster. Her eyes widened. Wrapping paper! Shoot! I never wrapped it. Holly stamped her foot. She had placed what remained of decades old paper back into a plastic sealed container in the attic, amazed that the paper was still crisp and the print bright.

  The attic stairs groaned as Holly unfolded them. Her toes curled in her bunny slippers with every grip of wooden stair. She climbed up into the frosty attic. Her shoulders quivered and her teeth chattered while she popped the lid on the container. Holly bowed her head. Yes! Just enough wrapping paper left over for Noel’s gift. She pulled out a square of deep blue paper with white snowflakes and closed the lid, promising herself she’d refill that container for next Christmas. Down the stairs she went, clutching her prized paper. She folded the stairs back into place and dodged back into the bedroom. She wrapped Noel’s present with neat little corners, sealing the box with sparkly white ribbon. Holly glanced at it, tapping it with happy accomplishment as if she’d just performed the most intricate
surgery. Now to work on presenting herself!

  Holly blow-dried her hair, curling it into gentle waves, and applied her make-up with a light touch: a dab of foundation, a flick of blush, a whoosh of bronze eye shadow, and a stroke of mascara. She smiled at her reflection, this time not escaping from the mirror. Just enough make-up on without hiding behind it, she mused.

  Pattering back into her bedroom, Holly slid into the black dress that had made it out of her closet for a record three times. She just finished shimmying into her stockings when the doorbell chimed, its announcement echoing up the stairwell. Noel! She glanced into the dresser mirror and patted her hair. Holly smiled, baring her teeth, making sure they harbored not a dab of food or dot of lipstick. She shifted her gaze to the framed picture of her parents and her, their last Christmas time photo, and the two ornaments hanging from the corners, her parents’ last one and the one Mrs. Shale’s had given her. She eased both off the frame and blew her parents a kiss. “Merry Christmas Mom and Dad,” she whispered to them.

  With an ornament in each hand, Holly slipped into her bunny slippers without giving it a thought and slowly descended the stairs, a huge smile on her face, as if everyone had waited for her debut. And there was Noel, at the bottom of the stairwell, his hand on the polished banister, clean shaven, a chocolate brown dinner jacket with creased pants to match, a wave of his hair teasing his forehead, and a smile rivaling the one she couldn’t help etch across her face. Who knew that only a few hours ago they were in wrinkled scrubs with mussed hair and sleep in the corners of their eyes?

  Noel blinked. “Wow!

  Heat snaked from her neck to her cheeks.

  “Nice bunny slippers! I like those.”

  “Ahh!” Holly’s mouth hung open. She thought he was talking about her sexy little black dress. “Oh, my Gosh!” Holly turned on her heels and rocketed up the stairs.

  “Holly?” Aunt Mae called.

  “Hey, Holly. Come back. You look great,” Noel yelled.

  She could hear his footsteps right behind her. “I’ll be right down, Noel.”

  But it was too late. He had already caught up with her.

  Holly’s chest heaved. “Noel.”

  Noel walked right up to her, cradled her face in his hands, and rested his lips on hers. She stood there, in her bunny slippers, her arms limp by her sides, an ornament in each hand, and her mouth held completely captive in his lips. Her stomach dipped at his every press. When he finally eased away, her head lolled on her neck he had made so magically pliable a minute ago. She had forgotten about her bunny slippers until she blinked her way back to her intended mission. Holly kicked off her slippers and slid into her black satin pumps.

  Noel grinned. “Hey, those are nice, too.”

  “Oh, you like these?” Holly asked, striking a playful side pose.

  “I like everything,” Noel said, softly. “Last night, this morning, now!

  He held out his hands. “I’ll take those downstairs, if you want.”

  Holly clutched her ornaments. “No, I want to put these on the tree, myself. But you can grab those two packages. Oh! Oh! Not that small one.” She grinned. “I’ll come back for that one.”

  A quizzical look crossed Noel’s face. “Oh, okay.” He looked back at her, his eyes soft. “How about we decorate that tree together?”

  His arms full, Holly gave Noel a quick peck on his lips. “I’d like that.”

  ***

  While Holly sifted through the ornament boxes, Noel struggled to untangle a ball of Christmas lights. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves half way into the job, politely declining Holly’s assistance. He’d wave his hand. “I can do it!” Every time she’d giggle, he’d arch a brow and smile. “Almost done!” After a good thirty minutes, Noel shot his hands to his hips and puffed out his chest. “Okay, I got it!”

  What is it about men and electricity? Holly mused. “That’s great!”

  Holly and Noel rounded the tree, stringing the lights along every branch, careful not to knock off the lone snowman ornament.

  With a gleam in his eye, Noel plugged the end into an outlet. The barren tree sprang to life.

  “How beautiful,” Mrs. Shale said from her recliner.

  Holly picked up the ornament Mrs. Shale had given her and smiled at her. “This one’s next.”

  Mrs. Shale sniffled. Tears spilled from her cheeks. Holly’s throat tightened. She shouldn’t have said that. She made Mrs. Shale cry. Holly quickly tucked the ornament in a box.

  “No, no,” Mrs. Shale cried between gulps. “You don’t understand. I’m crying because I thought I’d never see that ornament hang on a tree again.” She raised her hand. “Please, put it up. Martin loved Christmas.”

  Holly retrieved the ornament and hung it next to her snowman. Then she reached for her parent’s one. Her fingers trembled. Noel knelt beside her and rested his hand on hers. Holly’s heart beat wildly in her chest. She thought she could do it. Maybe not.

  “It’s okay, Holly. You don’t need to hang it this year.” He stared deep into her eyes. Holly’s eyes began to sting and her mouth went dry. Other than her Aunt Mae, meeting Noel was the best thing that had happened to her since her parents died. He kissed on her head. “We can put it away for now.”

  Holly shook her head. “No, I don’t want to, Noel. It belongs on this tree, this beautiful tree that I gave you so much grief about.”

  He smiled and kissed her, his lips as tender as his heart. “It’s in the past,” he whispered. “Where would you like it, Holly?”

  “The other side of my snowman.”

  Holly released the ornament into Noel’s hand. He hung it next to Holly’s snowman. “Good?” he asked.

  Holly bit her bottom lip and paused. Then she answered, “Perfect.”

  When the last ornament was hung upon the tree, the doorbell rang. Aunt Mae ran from the kitchen, no longer wearing an apron, but a red dress with a wreath brooch pinned to her collar.

  “I’ll get it,” she called like a nervous schoolgirl.

  Holly glanced at Noel. “I wonder who that could be? I thought it was just us.”

  Noel shrugged.

  Dr. Maxwell Thornton, and Charlie Donahue, the volunteer from the hospital sweet on Mrs. Shale, stood on Holly’s doorstep smacking the snow from their shoes.

  “Come on in boys,” Aunt Mae chimed.

  The men’s faces pinked.

  “Boys?” Holly whispered to Noel.

  He shrugged again.

  She gently poked her elbow into Noel’s side. “You’re no help,” she teased.

  Holly rocked from her knees, stood, and walked to the front door. “Dr. Thornton and Mr. Donahue, what a nice surprise. Please, come in.”

  Holly raised her brows at Aunt Mae who grinned and shrugged.

  What is with all the shrugging today?

  Noel crept up next to Holly and extended his hand. “Nice to see you, Dr. Thornton.”

  “Same here, Dr. Shepherd. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you too, Sir.”

  Dr. Thornton clapped Noel on his back. “Call me, Maxwell.”

  Noel nodded. “All right, Maxell. And call me Noel.”

  “Will do.”

  Maxwell Thornton eyed Holly carefully and hesitated. Holly drew a deep breath and hugged the man who worked valiantly to save her parents’ lives that night so long ago. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Thank you for having me in your home today.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You’re welcome anytime.”

  And by the doe eyed look between Aunt Mae and Maxwell, Holly had a feeling she’d be seeing more of him outside of the hospital. Charlie Donohue had already made his way to the living room sofa where Mrs. Shale had conveniently relocated to from her armchair.

  Noel squeezed Holly’s elbow and whispered, “Should be an interesting dinner.”

  ***

  Noel pulled out Holly’s chair. She held her breath for a few seconds and sat as he gent
ly pushed her to the holiday table. Ordinarily she’d help herself, but today was Christmas and everyone’s eyes were on Noel and her. They were queen and king at this table, but their court was just as cozy. After helping their ladies to the table, Maxwell scooted his chair closer to Aunt Mae and Charlie Donohue’s face beamed over his red bowtie as he patted Mrs. Shale’s hand. Holly blinked. When did this all happen? Maybe there was more to Aunt Mae and Mrs. Shale’s lunchtime outings than the two sly women let on.

  “Oh, Aunt Mae. This all looks so delicious.” Holly inhaled with a huge smile on her face. “It smells heavenly.”

  “Here! Here!” Everyone cheered.

  Aunt Mae flicked her hand and blushed. She tapped her wine glass with her silver spoon. “Okay, all. Let’s hold hands and bow our heads.”

  Holly slipped her hand into Noel’s warm hand. He squeezed her fingers delicately with a surgeon’s touch, a touch that set off every tiny nerve ending in her body. Her skin pulsed. Holly felt the rhythmic response of Noel’s heart stream through the pads of his fingers. Aunt Mae took her other hand. Flanked by the two people that meant the most to her, Holly bowed her head and thanked God for sending them to her, and asked his forgiveness for all those years she was so angry with Him. Her throat tightened. And suddenly a warm breeze touched her ever so slightly on the back of her neck. Holly’s heart fluttered so fast that her breath could not keep pace with it. Shalimar! It was her mother’s favorite perfume. The sweet scent clung in the air about her.

  She whispered to Noel, “Do you smell that?”

  He whispered back, “Yeah, the turkey smells great.”

  No one could smell that but her! And then came what nearly sent her flying from the table. Her daddy’s bristly cheek wisped across hers.

  “Whaaa?” Holly uttered, about to bolt from the table.

  Noel squeezed her hand tighter. “It’s all right, Holly. I’m here. We’re all here.”

  She took a deep breath and swallowed. The faintest whisper buzzed in her ear. “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” The breeze left as mysteriously as it came. Tears webbed her lashes. Holly sniffed softly.

  “Are you all right, Holly?’ Aunt Mae asked, concern echoing in her voice.

  Holly sniffed again, her parent’s visit whirling in her mind and her body still brimming from their heavenly touches. Miraculously tranquil, she smiled. “I’m fine, Aunt Mae. I’m fine. Go on.”