by Sharon Kleve
Leila remembered her first trip to Fenway Park as a child, the excitement of driving into Boston from Vermont, seeing the giant Citgo sign, having to pay for parking —something she’d never seen before; parking was always on the street and free in her town— eating a hot dog and peanuts. Then, during a game not against the Yankees but some long forgotten team, she saw a Yankees cap pulled off someone’s head, and tossed around the bleachers. Then someone else took the man’s cigarette lighter and tossed the now fiery Yankees’s hat over the edge of the park. She had no doubt in her mind a Yankees fan would do the same.
Leila shuddered.
“I’d never let him do that to it,” she replied with a fervor that surprised her.
Charlie nodded solemnly and gave her a one word reply: “Gloves.”
Leila nodded in kind. “Gloves.”
“You’re a local girl, right?” Charlie asked.
“Vermonter.”
Charlie nodded. “I don’t think Yankees fans are allowed across that border.” He pronounced the last word “bor-dah .”
Leila shook her head. “Nope. Just for skiing. Thanks for stopping me from making a bad choice.”
“Gloves.”
“Gloves.”
But first, chocolate.
The Godiva store was only three storefronts away, but there was an increase of tension in the air. Of course last minute Christmas shopping would be accompanied by some stress and or frenzy, the crowds with jostling packages and children and purses and such, but as the hours passed, Leila felt her own stress increase. The slightly raised shoulders, the tense lips, the shallow breaths, the tightened fingers in her leather gloves. The stakes seemed to rise with each minute she failed to find a present for Nathan. Never mind he might not buy her anything. It was certainly his right not to buy her anything ; they’d only dated for a few weeks. He was doing her a favor driving to the airport.
She remembered during her teenage years and early twenties reading too much into every word, every tone, every nuance—imagined or otherwise—of every man she’d ever dated. A phone call in two days, not one after a date, meant he was seeing someone else and she was second best. A card signed “Love” without a comma was a command, but “Love,” with a comma was just force of habit. Flowers either meant guilt or love. Meeting his friends was either good or bad. He could be testing her to see if she fit in, or he could be passing her off onto one of his friends. After years of trial and error, best selling self-help books and Oprah magazine, she was beginning to realize that she could only control herself and her reaction to others and not what they did or said about her. And usually, guys were pretty upfront. If they said they had a good time, they had a good time. If they said they want to go out again, they want to go out again. If they didn’t call, it’s probably over. If they said they needed a break, they needed a break, and any begging, crying, or pleading, wouldn’t change things, but would only make it a whole lot worse and speed the demise.
While she purchased a dark chocolate caramel for herself and a small box of truffles as an extra gift just in case, she thought about Nathan. She’d tried not to think about him too much, but it was different to think about him versus other men she’d dated. With other men, there was the worry, the stress, feeling inadequate and wanting. With Nathan, she just felt … free. It was just easy and comfortable.
If it’s so easy, why couldn’t she think of the right gift?
Gloves.
Entering the department store, Leila instinctively moved to the crowd of people in the accessories department, grabbing items in boxes on tables. Gloves. Hats. Scarves. Mufflers. Mittens. Gift sets. They were all there, the gifts you give anyone in New England in winter, perfect for the mail carrier, teachers, boss, employee, babysitter, the relative close or far in affection and or geography—the easy gift. Well, almost as easy as a gift card purchased at the supermarket.
Ignoring the siren call of the fingerless gloves with purple monster mitten flaps, she found a serviceable pair of black leather gloves with gray cashmere lining. Well-made, not too expensive, certainly cheaper than a taxi to the airport. She stood in line, played a game on her smart phone, and before she knew it, she’d handed over her overused credit card and the sales clerk handed her a bag with folded gift box and a sheet of tissue paper. “Gift wrapping is on level three. Costs extra.”.
Done...or was she?
As she sat on a plastic chair at a table in the food court, Leila couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t enough. So she sipped a hot chocolate, nibbled a soft pretzel and watched the world go by. The underlying tension of the shoppers increased and Leila’s mind told her to go home before the roads got worse, but for some reason she couldn’t help the nagging feeling that she wasn’t done yet. She’d packed her summer clothes and left the suitcase by the door. She didn’t work tomorrow, and there was nothing else on her list of things to do, so she sat on the hard plastic chair and cradled the hot chocolate in her hands. But something was missing.
“Everett liked malls,” an older woman’s voice cut into Leila’s daydreams. “But he actually liked to people watch, so he didn’t mind coming at Christmas time. He’d do his shopping by Thanksgiving, and then he’d sit over here and get a good view of everyone. He’d make up stories about people… like that group over there.”
When the voice paused, Leila turned to see an older women in a purple wool coat, with gray hair, blue eyes and ruddy cheeks, point a pink mitten-clad hand toward the teenage clothing store across the atrium from the food court. The other older woman she spoke to, turned to look, as did Leila.
A teenage couple walked hand in hand, their other hand in each other’s back jeans pocket, moving at a snail’s pace as shoppers jostled around them.
The woman continued, “Everett would probably say something like, they went to high school together and had crushes on each other for years, but not until the homecoming dance when she finally asked him to dance did the boy think he had a chance with her. So he asked her out again the next day and they’ve been together ever since.”
“Everett had a wonderful imagination, didn’t he? So creative,” the other woman added. The two women looked about the same age, but different body types. One was tiny like a wren, and the other in a gray coat looked like a senior citizen version of a bodyguard to the wren. The wren lady had dressed in purple, pink and red, and her blue eyes sparkled. She seemed to glance at Leila for a split second, then look away so quickly that Leila assumed she’d imagined it.
“That group over there…” The wren-like woman indicated some teenage girls dressed alike in puffy down jackets, tight skinny jeans and thick sheepskin boots and wool hats with ear flaps and ties. “They’re checking out the boys in the skater store. Look, none of them has a shopping bag. They’re just spending time away from their families. Probably avoiding housework before relatives arrive.”
“Oh and that couple there?” She pointed to a man and woman in long wool coats leaning into each other, seemingly unaware of the pandemonium around them. “When she went the restroom, he rushed into the jewelry store. I bet she’s getting a pretty special present under the tree. I can’t tell under her gloves if she already has a ring on her left hand but if she doesn’t now, she probably will by the New Year.”
“You’re like a neighborhood watch!” the other woman exclaimed.
“Everett taught me to keep my eyes open and notice things. Everyone runs around focused on themselves or those darned cell phones. They need to straighten their necks and look around.”
Self-consciously, Leila sucked in her belly, straightened her back and lengthened her neck. She discretely turned her smart phone over so the display faced the white plastic table, and her eyes darted about as if she had been caught doing something wrong, like replacing the candy bar she almost slid into her pocket at the grocery store as a child.
“You still miss him?” the gray-coated woman asked her friend after a few minutes of silence.
The small woman lowered her chin and looked at her half-drunk coffee cup. “ Every day.”
“How long has it been?”
“Five years.”
“Already? It seems sooner. Time flies.” The gray-coated woman reached out her hand and held onto the other woman’s hand, who then gave her a tight smile and nodded .
“Some days seem so long, and then others seem so short. But he’s here.” She tapped her heart with her fist. “He’s here.” She tapped her temple twice. “And here.” She tapped her lips. “He’s a part of me. We met in grammar school, you know. He’s my only love. Our only years apart were in college or when he was in the service. We grew up and grew old together—like you and Henry.”
“Henry and I are growing old together, but we keep pretty separate lives now. He has his friends and interests, and I have mine. When the snow’s gone, he’s always playing golf. I never see him.”
“Everett was a fair golfer.”
“Henry said once that Everett seemed to think golf was just an excuse for a walk.
The petite woman laughed. “I never had to save up to buy him golf clubs.”
Golf! Did Nathan like golf? Leila scoured her memory of their conversations. Had he ever mentioned it?
The gray woman removed her purse from the little purse hook she had attached to the table. “That reminds me, I need to pick up that gift certificate for the golf clinic for Henry. Are you leaving soon?”
Leila had the feeling she was being watched by the petite senior.
“No, I’m going to sit here for a few more minutes,” the purple-clad woman replied.
“Make sure you leave before the storm gets worse. I don’t like the idea of you driving in that weather.”
The purple-clad woman looked at her friend now standing and said, “Neither do I. I promise I’ll leave soon. I think I need one more thing here first.”
They kissed each other’s cheeks and soon it was just Leila and the wren lady, sitting at side by side tables, watching the shoppers; their silence turned into a comfortable, peaceful oasis in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the season.
“Have you the time?” the older woman suddenly asked Leila, nearly startling her.
Leila pulled out her smart phone and answered. The older woman chuckled.
“I forgot young people don’t wear watches anymore. I guess your phone does everything for you.”
“But it isn’t shopping for me. I have to get a gift for a guy I’m dating and it’s too late to order anything online.”
“I don’t suppose men wear ties anymore? That was always a safe one. Ties and pipes.”
“Nope. Maybe message T-shirts or gift cards for phone apps now.”
The wren lady smiled and shook her head softly. “Some things change, some things stay the same. How long have you been dating your young man, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“No, that’s fine. It’s only been three weeks. But I don’t know, this guy seems different somehow.”
“Different?” Leila thought she saw a sparkle in the pale blue eyes. “Different how? Oh, and my name is Martha.”
“Leila.” They shook hands and exchanged seasonal greetings.
“So tell me about your man.” Martha settled back in her chair, body tilted toward Leila. The whining children, the rushed parents, the love struck couples all disappeared and Leila felt as though Martha ignored it all and focused solely on her. “Tell me what’s different.”
Leila looked away. How could she explain it? This feeling? She turned to Martha, opened her mouth to speak, paused, and looked away again, frustrated.
“It’s hard? Tell me about your first date then,” Martha encouraged.
Leila’s shoulders loosened. “That, I can do. It was a setup. A friend of mine, Carrie, told me for weeks that this new guy at work would be perfect for me. She said we have the same quirky sense of humor. Since I wasn’t dating anyone seriously, I said sure, why not? So we met in a public place —a diner —in case he was a serial killer or something. We just talked and talked, and went for a walk and talked some more, and went for dessert, and talked, then walked along the Charles River —it was a few weeks ago during that warm spell? I felt as though…” Leila paused, searching for the right word. “I felt as though he gets me. Like, I can be myself and not pretend to be someone’s perfect date, and that’s okay. He’s just genuine. He’s not trying to impress me, not trying to show off or stand out. He is who he is, and you can take it or leave it. And he’s a good guy. Do you know what he did on our second date?”
“Tell me.” Martha’s voice encouraged Leila to continue.
“Well, he came to my apartment since I wanted to try a new restaurant on my block, but it looked too romantic for just me and my girlfriends, and it’s a little pricey. So, he went to use the bathroom and he was in there for a while. I’m not sure what the heck was going on; was he shooting up, or what? So I knocked on the door and he was fixing my faucet. It’d been dripping for weeks and the landlord hadn’t done anything about it, but Nathan—that’s his name— noticed and saw my toolbox was in the linen closet in the bathroom, so he fixed it. Then he told me that I needed to caulk part of the shower and showed me how to do that. He also pointed out the squeak in the door and told me to get some oil for it. On our third date, he put air in my tires and replaced the windshield wiper blade. He said he’d paint my living room in the spring.”
“He planned for spring?” Martha asked, and Leila detected a slight uptick of her right brow.
“Yeah,” Leila said enthusiastically, as if the question asked was ,“More bacon?”
Martha sat and nodded, the corners of her lips upturned slightly. Her nodding became like a gentle rocking motion and Leila was afraid to interrupt her thoughts. Finally, she spoke.
“You’re looking for this special fella, right?” Martha asked.
“Yes. Any ideas?”
“I may have one.”
-
When Nathan’s sedan approached Logan airport, the storm already cleared
“You can let me off at the curb,” Leila said, touching her jeans pocket, making sure her identification and reservation were in her back pocket.
“You have luggage. I’ll just park in short term,” Nathan answered. He said it like it was a given.
“No, really, you’ve done enough already. I have only one bag.”
Nathan didn’t reply, but drove into the parking garage. Once past the entrance gate, he turned and said, “Too late.”- Leila laughed.
“Fine. Thanks again.”
“I wouldn’t have offered to drive if I didn’t want to do it.” Nathan smiled and Leila melted. When he said ordinary things, so much more was conveyed in the smile, tone and look he gave her.
God, I hope I don’t screw this up with the gift, Leila thought. Maybe I should have just stuck with the gloves.
Nathan rolled Leila’s suitcase to the counter as Leila handed her information to the airline employee. “Traveling together?” the employee asked and Leila mumbled while Nathan replied, “No, not today,” and winked at Leila, who mumbled some more.
“I can take it from here,” Leila said as she walked away from the counter with her boarding pass. Nathan took her carry-on backpack.
“I can carry this for you to security.”
“You don’t need to.”
“But I want to.”
Leila looked at his green eyes, his dark messy hair, his pale skin and strong jawline with faint stubble. She remembered the feel of that stubble against her cheek and took a deep breath. Beneath his wool coat, his chest was broad and strong, and dark hair spread across his pectorals. She found that out on their second date wh
en they spent quite a bit of time on her couch after a satisfying dinner. The post-dessert activity was quite satisfying as well.
“So…” Leila started. Now or never. She couldn’t get on the plane until she gave him his gift.
“So…” he said, mirroring her hunched shoulders, downturned chin and hands deep in coat pockets.
“I… kinda got you something. As a thank you. And a Merry Christmas.” She pulled out a card from her purse.
“Thanks, Leila,” Nathan said, as he gave her a quick hug. “Do you mind if I open it now?”
“Please do, or else I’ll spend the entire flight wondering if you hate it. Keep in mind it’s unique; no one else has it.” Her heart pounded into her sternum as Leila watched Nathan open the large square envelope and pull out a handmade card with his name in green and blue, written in sparkle pen and bordered with confetti, tinsel and star stickers. Leila held her breath as Nathan smiled, opened the card and stared at the pop-up Christmas tree inside. She had spent an hour with construction paper watching YouTube videos for instructions the night before. Leila watched Nathan squint and hold the card closer as he read the letter inside. Leila remembered it by heart. An executive summary version would say:
Thanks for a wonderful three weeks.
I wanted to get you something no one else would give you
I like how I can be myself with you
My gifts to you: Honesty. Communication. Passion
I will tell you right away when you piss me off. I’ll tell you right away when I like whatever it is that you’re doing. I plan to communicate, not hold grudges, to let you know if you do anything to make me happy or sad. I won’t play games and hope you plan to be the same way. If this works out, great, if not, let’s make the best of it while it lasts.
Merry Christmas! And thank you again.
The anticipation was as long as those TV talent shows when you wait to see who’s eliminated. Leila felt ready to gasp for air and say “Well?” when Nathan’s face widened into a grin and he grabbed her by her shoulders and enveloped her into a tight hug.
