by Sandy Nadeau
Her head rested against her knees. “I know. I just wish it hadn’t been your mom. That may sound terrible. I mean, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, but…well…with our past…I just feel so awful.”
Steve didn’t know how to respond. Did that mean she still cared? She hadn’t been acting as if she had any feelings for him anymore. His heart beat harder, a mad pulse that seemed to swish so loud she should be able to hear it. He sat there, staring at her coffee table and waited.
He thought of his own guilt with her dad. He totally understood where she was coming from, but his mom survived. He didn’t think his empathy would be well received by her. The subject always proved to be touchy.
“Now you really think I’m terrible, don’t you?” She sniffed and looked up at him.
“No I don’t. I can understand that. I wish it hadn’t been mom, too. But it was.” He shrugged his shoulders feeling the tension that had built up in his neck muscles. He took the chance. “I’ve always wished it hadn’t been your dad, either. I know how easy it is to stay in the trap of guilt and sadness. I did for a long time after we lost your dad, but you have to reach a point of letting it go when it can’t be changed anyway. It’s a real struggle. I get that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do, Ronnie. Seems to me we’ve both had the same test.”
“I’ve never done well on tests.”
“We’ll get through all of this. Mom will heal up. You need to move on now. Stop beating yourself up.”
“I’m trying. I’m not very good at it.” The start of a smile developed on her lips. “I find it much easier to beat myself up.”
Steve laughed. “I have noticed that about you.”
She elbowed him.
He debated on taking a chance to ask, but knew what her answer would be. He stalled, on purpose, since the anticipation of a “yes” seemed better than the “no” he knew he’d probably receive.
He took a deep breath in the awkward silence. “The department Christmas party is coming up at the beginning of December. Do you want to go with me?”
She lowered her legs and shifted away from him.
Not a good sign.
“Steve…” her hand went under her hair as she rubbed the back of her neck. “There’s all kinds of wrong in that question.”
“Come on, Ronnie. We’ve been having fun in class. Come to the party with me. It’s just a get together. You know most of the department anyway.”
“Steve, I don’t want to date you. We’re coworkers and friends. That’s it. Take Jeannie. She’d love to go with you.”
Jeannie? Where’d that come from? “Ronnie, I don’t want to go with anyone else. I want to be with you. I’ve enjoyed our time together. Haven’t you? It seems as if we’ve been getting along great.”
“As friends,” she emphasized. “This isn’t dating. This is being in the same class.”
“Well, this is just a party. Come with me. Have some fun.”
“No. I won’t date you, and I don’t celebrate Christmas. Not anymore.”
“Why not? It’s the most special time of year. It’s the birthday of Christ.”
Her back went rigid. “All those decorations, trees, shopping for things no one wants anyway…there’s no point to it.”
“The ornaments are memories on branches. The lights remind me of the Light He brought into the world. The gifts, well, the gifts are an example of what God gifted us with. The gift of our Savior, and everlasting life.”
“I know where you’re coming from, Steve. But I just can’t do it anymore. My dad felt the same way you do. He always made it so special. He did crazy things every Christmas like wearing his Santa hat the whole month of December. He even wore it to work. He lit up the house so much you could land planes on our street.” Her eyes took on a distant gaze. “He hung small wreaths on our bedroom doors with a little box dangling from them with small gifts inside for Adam and me. Dad put a new gift in them every day. We’d be so excited every morning to see what the new trinket would be. He made it so special.” She sighed and bit her lip. “With him gone, it’s just too painful to remember. It just makes me mad when Christmas comes. I just don’t care anymore.” Her lower lids pooled up with tears.
Steve slid closer and wrapped his hand around her tightly clenched hands. “What can I do to help you through this?”
“Oh, Steve. Nothing.” She pulled her hands away. “I just have to get through the holiday. I won’t acknowledge it. It isn’t fair that he’s gone. I miss him so much.” She reached for a few tissues to dry her eyes and blow her nose.
Steve had no words to help. There had to be some way he could bring comfort to her. A plan began to take shape in his mind.
11
Steve walked into the department Christmas party in full swing.
A fully decorated tree sat on the opposite wall from the door. Many of the spouses were there with coworkers.
He loved this annual get together, but wished for Ronnie to be by his side.
Music blared and laughter filled the room. He grabbed a bottle of water off the beverage table and joined a group of guys off to the side who were giving Troy a hard time. The rookie dished it right back—only with a bad attitude.
Steve turned around to find a group without Troy in it. He didn’t want the frustration tonight.
Jeannie touched his arm. “Hi, Steve. I wondered if you would come. How are you?”
“Oh, hi, Jeannie. I’m good. Fun party,” he said over the noise in the room.
“Yeah, it is.”
People were on the dance floor. It was getting crazy out there as they laughed and moved to the music.
“Do you dance?”
“Huh,” Steve turned back to Jeannie. “Me? No. Not me. I don’t dance.”
“Oh.”
Disappointment covered on her face.
No, dancing was not something he would do, especially watching the guys out there flailing around. Not happening.
“Would you like to go sit down and talk?” Her look was hopeful.
“Uh, sure.” Steve pointed to an open table off to the side. “It might be quieter over there.”
They sat and looked over the crowd.
Steve didn’t know what to talk about with her. She wanted more than he could give and he didn’t want her to get an idea that he’d changed his mind.
“Looks like Troy’s annoying the guys again.” Jeannie pointed.
The man’s animated movements were evident that he was bragging on himself. Soon he stood alone drinking his glass of soda, one hand in a pocket.
“He’s not making friends.”
“I know. He bugs everyone. It’s too bad.” She grimaced.
“I think he could be a good firefighter if he’d calm down some. Maybe he’ll get it by watching the others on the job. Like Ronnie. She’s great at her job. She sure saved our necks at the rock slide.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“You suppose? If she hadn’t been paying attention, who knows what might have happened to all of us? She was really in tune with that situation. I’m still amazed we weren’t all killed.”
Jeannie leaned back, slouching in her chair. She wasn’t listening any more. Her gaze went to the crowd at the food table.
“All I’m saying is I’m glad she warned everyone.” His tone was awkward, even he could hear it.
“But doesn’t it bother you what she did at your mom’s accident?”
“No!” His voice turned sharp. What was she implying? “Can you think of a better option if you’d been in her shoes?”
“Well, no, but the car did go over when she tried to put that log under there.”
“The car was already going over, no matter what. She tried to stop it. We could see from the top of the road it was no use. Mom went over the edge because of the law of gravity, not because of anything Ronnie did or didn’t do. It was a tough situation they faced.” Steve squared his shoulders. His forehead pinched at her comments and attitude. Did
others blame Ronnie, too?
“I’m not implying anything, just…well, curious how you felt about that.”
“Accidents happen. Matt said the car would have gone regardless. He could barely hang onto it. His exact quote was, ‘Two puny humans had no chance against three thousand pounds of steel.’ Ronnie still managed to prevent a huge tragedy at the rock slide. The job is up and down all the time. Every call is different.”
“True.”
The captain walked over to their table. “Hey, how are you two doing? Merry Christmas.”
Steve stood and shook his hand. “Merry Christmas. Join us?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Thankful for getting out of that conversation, he turned his attention to the captain. “We were just talking about the slide.”
“What a disaster! Sure could have been worse if…”
Jeannie’s hands hit the table hard as she pushed back her chair. “Excuse me.” She headed to the food table.
Humph, weird. Even the captain looked puzzled, so Steve knew it wasn’t just him wondering.
The captain looked after her. “Was it something I said?”
Steve shrugged.
12
Time for his plan. A convoluted plan, but Steve was determined. If Christmas had become too difficult for Ronnie without her dad making it special, he would restart the tradition. A light snow started, putting him in an even better mood to work on creating something spectacular for her.
“It’s a brilliant idea, Steve.” Mrs. Spencer was ecstatic.
“It will shake her out of her ‘bah, humbug’ mood, too.” Adam was just as approving.
“Adam!” Mrs. Spencer glared at her son.
“It’s true, Mom,” Adam protested. “Since Dad died, Ronnie doesn’t even want to celebrate.”
“Well, when she sees what Steve will do, and we assure her we love her dearly, maybe this will stop some of the heartache,” Mrs. Spencer nodded to Steve. “We’ll take Ronnie to lunch so you should have plenty of time.”
Later, as he hauled the boxes and bags of decorations up three flights of stairs, which proved difficult since he still had a slight limp, Steve wondered if he was crazy. And then, wrestling the large, bulky box holding the artificial tree, he decided he’d do whatever he needed for the woman he loved. The last trip down to the car would retrieve the most important box, a long one from the florist.
It was weird to be in her place without her, but this would be totally worth it.
Steve tuned the radio for background Christmas music to help his project along, and then he began to set up the tree. The new decorations he bought included a fire truck and ambulance ornaments. He strung lights, laid down a tree skirt, added the ornaments, and, finally, he reached up and attached the lighted star, held by an angel.
He placed a small Nativity on her coffee table, tossed a soft, cozy Christmas blanket and pillow on a chair, added a small basket with hot chocolate, a mug, and a snack on the end table and stepped back to look at his creation. It looked good.
Finding a large vase, he opened the florist box and pulled out the multi-colored roses. How did one arrange these things? Dropping them all into the vase, he haphazardly stabbed the small white flowers in and around the roses. He pulled out the card he’d created from the box and leaned it against the vase. Taking a moment, Steve admired his work. “Well, God, I’ve done my best. Please let her like it.” He didn’t want to acknowledge that his future children would depend on their mother loving Christmas…who was he kidding? He wanted Ronnie. For now and always. He acknowledged that and his future children freely.
Gathering up the empty boxes and bags, he locked her door and hauled the stuff back out to his car. “God, don’t let this backfire on me.”
~*~
Ronnie loved going to lunch with her mom. Having Adam join them added to the familial warm fuzzies. She couldn’t remember the last time the three of them had gone out to lunch together. But then the memory struck her. The last time all three of them sat in a restaurant, they had to decide what to do with Dad’s service. She breathed in a heavy burden.
All the Christmas music and decorations drove her nuts. Everywhere she went, Christmas. Cheery good will to all. Except her. Nothing about it made her feel cheery. It would be a relief to get back to her apartment away from all of that.
Unlocking the door, she walked into a department store window display. Her purse and keys fell to the floor. “What in the world?” Walking slowly into the living area, she couldn’t believe her eyes. A tree sat in front of the patio door lit with a gazillion colored lights. Ornaments of every color also filled in the branches. A fire truck ornament hung prominently in the center front, with an ambulance next to it. She lifted it with a shaking hand. As she turned, she noticed the pine garland that adorned the archway leading to the bedroom. On the side table sat a huge bouquet of multicolored roses. The coffee table, the end table…it all looked so homey, so comfortable…so Christmas.
She stood in the center of the room, turned in a slow circle, and tried to take it all in. A pool of tears formed in her eyes blurring the sight. She walked over to read the card leaning against the vase.
“I wanted to make Christmas special this year by decorating for you. The flowers are to tell you how I feel about you: a pink rose to symbolize your grace and elegance so you know how much I admire you and the work you do. A yellow one to say how much I appreciate our friendship and it brings me joy. A white rose for the newness of our hoped-for relationship. An orange one to express my excitement and passion for you. The red rose to say how much I still love you. And last, but not least, the lavender one to tell you I am enchanted with you. You captured my heart long ago. Love, Steve.”
She stared in disbelief and her hands dropped to her side. She fell back onto the couch and tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. Ronnie raised the card once more, looked at the words, and flung it like a Frisbee across the room. It stuck dead center in the decorated tree on the far side of the room, spinning the fire truck ornament violently.
13
Ronnie hadn’t called. She had to be home.
Returning the key to Mrs. Spencer, Steve shared the excitement of the plan.
“I’m pretty sure she went straight home from lunch.”
Sitting in his jeep a block away, he stared at his cell phone willing it to ring. Maybe he should go over. No, maybe he should wait.
Did she love it?
He was certain he’d done a good job, for a guy. She had to have seen his card. He worked hard on it last night, wanting the words to be just right. Looking it up on line to find the meanings of the different colors for roses helped him compose it. He had no idea before that rose colors meant something.
Adjusting the radio volume again, he tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. “Lord, I just want her to love Christmas again. OK, and maybe love me, too.”
The wait tore at his insides. He had to know. He shifted the jeep into gear, drove over to her place, and parked.
Her truck sat in the parking lot, so she was home.
His cell phone didn’t show any missed calls.
Christmas lights shone through the sheers covering the patio doors.
Didn’t she like it?
He headed up to the door and knocked. It took forever for her to answer.
“Ronnie?” He waited with his hands in his pockets.
When she opened the door, redness puffed in her eyes and nose.
Uh oh, crying. He stood there like a lump wondering if they were good tears or bad tears, suddenly feeling seven years old. Anxiety filled his heart. “Hi,” he dared utter the word.
She stepped aside. “Come on in.” The words seemed to come through gritted teeth as her head turned away.
Visions of her jumping into his arms and kissing him all over his face filled his mind, the excitement bursting from her. Nope. This was not at all the response he imagined. Uh-oh.
She sat hard onto the couch.
He stood there, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth. Looking over at the tree, he noticed his card stuck oddly in the branches, barely hanging onto the perch. He bit his lip.
Tears began to stream down her beautiful face.
He scratched his head then warily sat next to her. Not too close for fear of where this reaction would go. What should he say? “I…take it…I blew it.” His fingers worked against each other. He stilled them, embarrassed to think he was actually wringing his hands.
She grabbed a tissue from the box on the side table and blew her nose. “What were you thinking, Steve? You know how I feel about Christmas.”
“I thought if I started a new tradition it might help you enjoy it again.”
“What gave you the right to decide that for me?” Her voice rose as anger filled her tone. “How can I enjoy something that reminds me of not having my father around anymore? This…” she stood and swung her hand around at the décor he worked so hard on. “…doesn’t work. Dad didn’t do it.”
“I don’t think he would want you to not celebrate Christmas ever again. He had faith. He loved you. He would want you to go on.”
“How dare you think you know what he would want?”
He winced. Everything in him wanted to run out of the apartment to avoid believing he’d blown it this badly.
As if reading his mind, she said, “You need to leave, Steve. Right now. I can’t talk to you about this.” She started walking toward the door. “You can’t possibly understand.”
“Ronnie, I want to understand. I want to help. I wanted you to know how much I love you and care about you.”
“Listen, I get what you meant to do. Really, I do.” Her voice was brittle and her jaw twitched. “I know you meant well, but it’s just too hard. Every time I look at a tree, the memories flood back of my dad running around the house in his Santa hat, playing the new games with us. It just hurts so bad.” The tears began again. “I miss him so much.”
“But…aren’t they good memories?” Oops. That look. Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say either. Steve didn’t know what to do. He usually chose wrong when it came to women crying, which he learned growing up with sisters. Tentatively, he reached out to touch her arm.
