Tinsel Terrors: A Rom Com Short Story
Page 2
After school, Jenny was locking the door to her room when Mr. Sanderson came out of his classroom next door. James was his real name. Jenny had a hard time thinking of him as anything but Mr. Sanderson, even while indulging in very unprofessional thoughts involving the two of them locked in the copy room. Not that she indulged in unprofessional thoughts about him very often. It was essential to be able to face him in the hallway without blushing.
“Going home?” he asked.
What else would she be doing? She always went home. She was too exhausted to do anything else. Except this Friday night. This Friday night she’d have to go to Cheryl and Jed’s annual Christmas party. She went every year and every year she wished she’d said no. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Cheryl. Or Jed. She did. They’d been best friends since high school. Still were.
It was just that Cheryl and Jed’s party had turned into a couple’s affair. It seemed like everyone they knew was either married, engaged or living with someone. Some years she was the only single guest. At least Cheryl never insisted on finding a date for her. That would be just too humiliating.
James was still waiting for an answer to his question. Was she going home?
“Uh—“ He must think she was an idiot. Who couldn’t answer a simple question like, “Going home?”
Jenny felt the box she was holding starting to slip. It was full of all the things she’d been putting off while she spent her prep time on the Christmas program. At this rate, she’d be spending her vacation playing catchup.
“Do you want some help with that?”
“Uh—“
Seriously, what was wrong with her?
“Sure.”
James took the box and they started walking down the hall. Jenny tried to think of something witty to say. Something to make up for all the, “Uhs.”
“Do you have any plans for Christmas vacation?” she asked. There. It might not be witty, but at least it was normal.
“I’ll go upstate to visit my parents.”
“That’s nice.” That was good, too. Also, normal.
“Would you like to go out for a coffee?” James asked.
Huh? She hadn’t said it out loud, thank goodness. But still. Huh?
“Uh—“ Argh! She was doing it again.
“You look like you could use a break.” James looked down at the contents of the box. “You’re not really planning on working all evening, are you?”
She had been. He was just being friendly, Jenny decided. Alright, she could do friendly.
“I really shouldn’t,” she said. “But maybe I could use a break for an hour.”
There, that was good. Casual. No eves-dropping third party would have guessed she’d not-so-long-ago made a colossal cringing fool of herself over this guy. Not that there were any eves-dropping third parties. Everybody else had gone home.
“How about we meet at Java Mamas’?”
“Sure. Fine.” Jenny came dangerously close to adding, “Whatever.” That would have been overdoing it.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting at a tall table in a noisy corner of Java Mamas’. Jenny’s feet didn’t reach the floor, but she resisted the urge to swing her feet back and forth and kick the legs of her chair. It was funny, once released from her teaching duties, she invariably felt the urge to do all the things she regularly admonished her students not to.
“What are you doing for Christmas?” James asked.
Their coffee was still too hot to drink. Jenny blew on hers and created a minor tempest in her cup. She was trying to look anywhere but directly at James. He seemed amused by this, for some reason.
“I have family here in town.”
“Big family?”
“Moderately.”
“Will your boyfriend be spending the holidays with you?”
Gaaaak! Boyfriend? What made him think she had a boy-friend? Oh, yeah. She’d told him that she did. She’d felt compelled to concoct that laughable lie in the aftermath of the unfortunate parking lot incident, during which she’d come on to James in a completely unforgivable manner. What had she been thinking? At least he appeared to have forgiven her for that. Or forgotten. She hoped he’d forgotten.
“Uh, we broke up. About a month ago.”
Please, don’t ask any more questions about my imaginary ex-boyfriend. She resisted the impulse to say the words right out loud, but just.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” James said. “Well, not that sorry.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was flirting with her.
“How long had you been dating?” he asked.
Geez! Jenny knew exactly when the unfortunate parking lot incident had occurred. Two months, four days—she did a few quick mental calculations—19.5 hours ago. She was supposed to have been dating this imaginary boyfriend back then.
“Not terribly long.” That was nice and vague and, hopefully, believable. She tried to think of another topic of conversation.
“So, do you have any hobbies or interests?” Argh! That was the best she could come up with?
When she was in college, a boy had asked her the same question and it had been a running joke between her and Cheryl for weeks. This must be Karmic retribution for having made fun of the poor guy.
James was transparently laughing at her now. “Oh, I mountain bike. I compose electronic music. In the summers, I like to travel.”
Her coffee was finally cool enough. Jenny concentrated on taking small sips. She should have ordered decaf. She was jittery enough already.
“I have tickets to a concert tomorrow evening,” James said. “Would you like to come with me?”
Jenny’s small-sips strategy suffered a devastating blow. She took an agitated gulp and nearly choked. James handed her a napkin.
She was tempted to say yes. Tomorrow evening was Cheryl and Jed’s party, and if she didn’t go Cheryl would be disappointed, but she’d understand. On the other hand, this last-minute invitation probably meant that whoever James had intended to take had backed out, and he’d already called up every other friend he knew. He’d probably gone so far as to invite his own mother. It wasn’t worth letting Cheryl down just because some guy’s mother wasn’t available to use his extra ticket. Besides, this was obviously a friend thing. Better not set herself up for disappointment.
“I can’t,” Jenny said. “It’s my best friend’s Christmas party tomorrow evening. It’s an annual tradition.”
“Oh.” James looked far more crest-fallen than she’d expected. “You going with someone?”
“There will be other people there,” Jenny pointed out. “It is a party.”
“You’re really making this difficult for me, aren’t you?”
“Making what difficult?”
“I’m trying to ask you out on a first date, well, second date, if you want to count this cup of coffee as our first date.”
“Oh.” That was her brilliant reply to this shocking revelation. Her head felt like some malicious force had absconded with her brain and substituted a cloud of cotton candy in its place.
“I may have gotten the wrong impression, but I thought, at one point back in September, that you might have been interested in me,” James continued.
Interested in him? She’d practically prostrated herself. She’d behaved like a Gate Person in the presence of Elvis. She still couldn’t think about it without formulating concrete plans to find a nice cave—millions of miles from civilization, preferably—where she could take a vow of celibacy and silence, thereby insuring that she never had the opportunity to behave in such a humiliating manner ever again.
“October,” she said.
“Pardon.”
“That was back in October.”
“Really? Anyway, when you ah—made your highly flattering expression of interest in me, I had just broken up with my Fiancée. I was in no frame of mind to—“
He’d had a fiancée? They had just broken up? How had she not known any of this?
She couldn’t very well say, “I still think about you night and day.” That might give him the impression that she kept a shrine to him in the corner of her living room where she burned candles and chanted incantations begging Aphrodite to make her irresistible—which she most certainly did not do.
“Well—“
“How about I come to your party with you?”
“Well—“
“That’s not too much of a risk. What with all those other people you claim are going to be there.”
“Well—“
“I promise to steer clear of all mistletoe.”
What if she didn’t want him to? Steer clear of the mistletoe, that is.
“Ok,” Jenny heard herself say. “It might be nice to have a date.”
The next day, the Kindergarten Christmas Program got off to a rough start. During lunch recess, a few members of the 2nd grade rebel-element discovered the boxes of tinsel stored on the stage and had to be captured and confined to the principal’s office before they relinquished three backpacks full of tinsel, now terribly tangled.
The custodian had developed laryngitis overnight, so his deep booming narration was replaced by the high-pitched nasal whine of Coach Simmons. Jenny should have asked Mr. Sanderson to narrate, but she was trying to avoid him. Besides, his kid-wrangling skills were desperately needed backstage.
Everyone made it onto the stage alright: Choir, Elmer Elf, backup elves, Santa and Mrs. Clause. Mrs. Clause kept tripping on her too-long dress, Santa’s beard set him off on a sneezing fit, and several of the elves couldn’t keep their hats on, but these things were to be expected.
The gym was full of Kindergartner’s parents and grandparents. Jenny was nervous. She tried to reassure herself that this year’s program couldn’t possibly be as big a disaster as last year’s had been.
Mrs. Maxwell, the librarian, was at the piano. Miss Jenny had the attention of about half the cast, which was the best she could hope for. She nodded to Mrs. Maxwell. They were off.
Elmer Elf extemporized quite a lot, but the audience found this amusing. Mrs. Claus got tired of Santa trying to help her hold her dress up off the floor and socked him one in the padded stomach—this was definitely not in the script—but the audience ate it up.
They got to the end. The backup elves managed to distribute the tinsel streamers without dropping too many. Nobody got tangled. Nobody fell down. The members of the choir arrived at the end of the final song at more or less the same time, and the proud parents and grandparents gave the cast a standing ovation.
Jenny was exhausted. She’d stayed after school to help the now-mute custodian sweep the tinsel off the stage. There were bits of tinsel everywhere. It had migrated from the gym into the hallways. When the kindly custodian finally insisted that she go home, Jenny had gone out to her car only to find tinsel clinging to her antennae. When she’d reached home and removed her coat, she discovered she’d been walking around with a sparkly posterior. Next year, they’d definitely be revisiting the jingle bell motif. At least if she had anything to do with it.
All she wanted now was a long hot bath and a quiet evening curled up in an inert blob on the sofa—possibly whimpering—but inertia was not an option. She had to transform herself from a harried Kindergarten teacher to a stunningly glamorous sexpot. Actually, she’d settle for transforming herself into a moderately-pretty normal-looking woman. At the moment, she looked like she’d been run over by a reindeer assisted by a pack of 2nd grade rebels. That was partially true.
She’d already picked out what to wear. She’d had no time to go shopping, so she was recycling an old favorite that she hadn’t worn in years. The dress was quite a lot more formfitting than she remembered it. Still, it was eye-catching. After a shower and blow-dry and taking three times longer than she usually did on her make-up, she was moderately pleased. She hadn’t come close to achieving stunningly glamorous sexpot status, but there was a lot less of the grandma-got-run-over-by-a-reindeer look about her.
James was early. He apologized for that, but Jenny was ready and waiting so they left right away.
They were the first to arrive at Cheryl and Jed’s. Jenny had informed Cheryl that she was bringing someone. She’d had no choice. It was sit down. Cheryl had been incredibly curious to know who Jenny’s date was, but Jenny had refused to tell her. Cheryl knew all about her humiliating crush on Mr. Sanderson, but she’d never met James in person. Jenny was hoping that when Cheryl put two and two together she wouldn’t say something embarrassing.
Jed took their coats—Jenny noticed there were still traces of tinsel on both of them—and Cheryl put drinks in their hands and deposited them onto the couch, then headed back to the kitchen.
Normally, Jenny would have headed straight to the warm, brightly lit kitchen with her and spent the next half hour chattering companionably, opening and closing the oven door and burning her fingers on hot pans. It had come to be the only part of the annual event she enjoyed.
Instead, she was sitting awkwardly on the couch beside James and tracing nervous circles in the shag carpet with her toes. There was at least two feet of space between them. Jenny hoped the gaping void didn’t mean James had gone off her since last night. Her eyes involuntarily strayed to the mistletoe hung in the center of the archway that led to the dining room.
“How did you two meet?” Jed asked. It probably seemed like a safe, perfectly polite question to him, but Jenny blushed. She was glad that Cheryl was safely out of earshot.
“We work together,” James said.
“Oh, are you the principal?”
He must get that a lot. Nobody expected a man to be an elementary school teacher.
“No.”
“You must be a PE teacher?”
“No.”
“He teaches next door to me,” Jenny said. She was starting to feel bad for Jed. James didn’t seem to be bothered. No doubt he was used to it.
“You’re a Kindergarten teacher?” Jed finally caught on. “No kidding?”
“No kidding.”
“How many years have you taught together?”
James had to think about it. Jenny didn’t. Three years, four months, 27 days and—
“I think this must be our fourth year teaching together.”
Jenny hoped Jed wouldn’t ask how long they’d been dating. Jenny was saved from the possibility of that embarrassment by the arrival of more guests.
Pretty soon, she and James were sharing the couch with another couple. They sat smashed up together and totally silent until Cheryl announced that dinner was served and they could all come to the table. As they moved from the living room to the dining room at a snail’s pace, they paused under the mistletoe. They both looked up at it at the same time. James winked, but he didn’t look like he wanted to kiss her.
It was the same crowd as usual, with minor variations. The only major variation was that this year—for the first time in five—Jenny had a date. This escaped no one’s notice. James suffered from the sort of unapologetic grilling usually reserved for a fiancé’s first meeting with his future father-in-law.
Cheryl figured out that this was The Mr. Sanderson almost immediately. Fortunately, she confined her reaction to a knowing smirk that Jenny was pretty sure James missed.
“Sorry about that,” Jenny said, as they walked out to the car. The sidewalk was slick. Jenny was wearing the world’s most impractical shoes. She was forced to cling to James’s arm. He didn’t seem to mind.
“Sorry about what? I thought your friends were nice.”
“They are nice. They are also nosey. You don’t have to pretend you didn’t realize you were being interrogated.”
“It’s normal to be curious about someone your friend has just started seeing.”
Had they just started seeing each other? James seemed to think so.
“I know. But it’s still
uncomfortable for the person being grilled.”
They were in the car now.
“You want to go straight home?” James asked, “It’s still kind of early.”
It was eleven and Jenny was dead tired. But she’d go with “early,” if it meant prolonging an evening that might never repeat itself.
“We could go out for coffee, I guess.”
“I had something more festive in mind.”
“Alright. I don’t know what you mean by festive, but I’ll trust you.”
They drove for fifteen minutes through the falling snow. James turned off into a brilliantly lit cul-de-sac. The houses and trees were draped with curtains of twinkling lights. Several roofs had moving displays, and Christmas carols blared so loudly from one house that they could be clearly heard from inside the car.
James pulled over to the curb and turned the headlights off, but he left the heater running.
“What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“I thought you might like it. Seeing as how big into Christmas you are. By the way, I thought the Christmas Program went great.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather not even think about school right now.”
“I thought you might say that. To that end, I brought a few things along.”
James reached into the back seat and retrieved a blanket which he spread over their knees. Then he produced a thermos.
“Hot chocolate. For later,” he said.
“Why later?”
“Because right now, I’m more interested in this—“
He reached behind his seat and conjured up a sprig of mistletoe.
“I know. I know. I might have said otherwise, but I have no intention of keeping my promise. I’m pretty sure I never meant to.”
He leaned in slowly. Jenny felt her eyes flutter closed. She reached up to grasp the rough wool of his coat collar.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Jenny,” James whispered, just before his lips touched hers.
The End
More by Mazy
Short Stories
Cupid Hates Me
Novelettes
Fetch
Novellas
A Cat Called Cupid
Starstruck Franny (Coming in February 2014)