Season's Greetings : Christmas Box Set

by Shyla Colt

  “I can watch this if you need to ... go do something.”

  “Okay.” I don’t give her time to reply as I hurry off toward the bathroom. I always make it my business to know where the restrooms are. Keeping my head down, I use my size to move through the people, feeling like a salmon trying to swim upstream. I burst into the bathroom and find an empty stall. Locking myself in, I close my eyes and let myself rock back and forth. The noise level rises with people coming in and out. I snap my fingers, adding the auditory sensory I find most comforting. The motion and the sound force everything else into the background, bringing me blessed relief. The further the flight is pushed back, the more my plans are thrown off. I don’t like it when that happens.

  Plans help me keep things straight and organized. It allows me time to decompress and take breaks, so I don’t get overloaded. Sinking down into the rhythmic motion and sound, I come down little by little. Recharged, I take a few deep breaths and leave the stall. After washing and drying my hands, I step back out into the airport and retrace my steps. Returning, I discover people have wandered away from the gate. My chest loosens. The woman has remained beside my things, watching them.

  I clear my throat. She looks up and smiles.

  “Thank you,” I mumble and sit beside her.

  “You’re welcome. I was just sitting here anyway.” She stares at me.

  “What?”

  “Everything okay?”

  “No.”

  “I—” She opens her mouth and closes it. “Okay.”

  Taking out my phone, I call my mom.

  “Hey, Sammy.”

  “Hi, Mom. I don’t think I’m going to make it to dinner.”

  “What?” She sighs. “Sammy, we worked really hard for this moment. I think you’re ready. It’s okay to be nervous.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek. This would be the first holiday dinner I’d had with the family in years—Mom, Dad, aunt, uncle, and cousins. I worked my way up to this instead of the three-person Christmas with my parents.

  “I am. This is weather related. Currently, the flight has been postponed by three hours. With the weather, I think it’ll be canceled.”

  “Oh, honey. We were all looking forward to this. How are you handling it?”

  “I ... don’t know.”

  “Okay, so let’s come up with a plan. If the flight is canceled, what will you do?”

  “I have my computer and my headphones. I’ll watch episodes of Star Trek with my noise-canceling on. I’ll try to sleep if I can when I get tired.”

  “I think that’s a great plan, Sammy. You can call me any time you need.” Her words put warmth in my chest. She’s always tried hard to do right by me. I know I wasn’t an easy child to raise or an adult son to have.

  “I know.” I bounce my right leg and rock slightly. Things are still too chaotic for my liking.

  “Right now, I want you to get something to eat. If the snow is as bad as you’re saying, the airline will let the workers leave early.”

  “I’ll do that now.”

  “Bye, Sammy. I love you.”

  “Bye, Mom. Ditto.”

  Packing my things, I put on my satchel and walk toward the food area. The majority of places have already closed down except for the golden arches. The line is long, and people are crammed too close for comfort. I take my place in line behind the woman who sits beside me. A brown-haired man with a thick, muscular neck, broad shoulders, and meaty hands moves to cup her shoulder. He steps closer, and she steps back immediately. The sight unsettles me. She jerks away, and he frowns.

  “Looks like we could be here for a while, sweet thing. Why don’t you and I get to know one another better?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “It could get mighty cold.”

  “The heat is more than adequate in the building.”

  “You like to play hard to get, huh?” He gives a smile that holds no warmth. “It’s cool. I enjoy the chase. It beats being bored at the airport.” He reaches over and grips her hip.

  She breaks his hold immediately, and I growl.

  She looks up, and her eyes grow huge. “There you are babe.”

  I blink, confused.

  The woman rises on tiptoes. Her breath caresses my ear. “I am so sorry. Please just pretend to know me so I can get rid of this guy.

  “He is bothering you?”

  “I don’t think he realized I was taken, honey.”

  I glare at the man who holds up his hand and steps back. “Hey. I didn’t realize she belonged to anyone.”

  “A woman does not belong to anyone but herself.” I don’t like the man who’s still closer to her than I like. I pull her back as if to escape his reach and roaming eyes.

  “Right on. Women’s lib is alive and well. Look, man, she’s not worth fighting an ogre over. No harm. No foul.”

  My fists clench. Anger begins to well up, creeping through me like an oil spill. Tunnel vision kicks in. A small hand presses into my back, grounding me.

  “I think he’s learned his lesson about making assumptions.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, man. Matter of fact, I’m not even that hungry anymore.” He backs away slowly, never breaking eye contact.

  I watch him every step.

  “He’s not going to come back. You’re far too terrifying to challenge.”

  I glance down at the woman, wondering what it is about her that wakes emotions in me so easily. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She nods. “I can take care of myself, but causing a scene with someone I can’t escape seems like a bad idea.” She shakes her head. “I’m Delta, by the way.”

  “Samuel Solaris.”

  “Well, Samuel Solaris. Delta always pays her debts, so the foods on me.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to.” She ducks down to meet my gaze. It’s not as intense with her kind eyes meeting mine.

  “Okay.”

  Stepping back, she allows me space without me asking. I grunt in surprise.

  “You’re prickly, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not a cactus.”

  She laughs. “I like you, Sam Solaris.”

  “You do?” Most find my literal interpretations annoying.

  “Yes. You remind me of a close friend. He always tells me the truth.”

  “I don’t lie either.”

  Tilting her head, she studies me. I return the curious look. Electricity crackles between us. The sensation is bizarre and unfamiliar. “I believe that.”

  My heart beats a little faster. I lean down slightly and inhale. She smells like lemon pie and meringue—sweet, clean, and tart.

  “Did you just smell me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lean down, please.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can return the favor.” Cautiously I move toward her, and she inhales. “You smell nice, too.”

  It breaks the invisible glass wall that tends to rest between me and everyone else. The draw she holds is immeasurable. Maybe if I let down my mask, she’ll find the rest of me just as acceptable as the pieces she’s already seen. The pressure to emulate normal behavior according to societal standards isn’t there at the moment. I want to experience more with her.

  The lights overhead flicker, and the golden arches dim. Machines beep, and the cashiers call for their manager. A wave made up of disgruntled voices goes through the crowd. Minutes roll by. The manager appears by the register from the back. “I’m sorry, folks. The storm has knocked out our connection with the computer system. We aren’t sure when it’ll come back online, and the storm is growing worse outside. For these reasons, we’ll be closing down now. Instead of letting the food already made go to waste, you’ll be welcome to it by line order. First come, first serve. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

  People surge forward, and Delta is shoved to the side. People rush in like contestants on an episode of Supermarket Sweep. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I pull her closer, shielding her body
from the worst of the jostling. Her fingers wrap around my forearm. The firm hold sends bolts of pleasure racing through my body. I shiver as the hair raises up on the back of my neck and the muscles in my stomach contract. Light touch is distracting and unpleasant on a good day. I can bear it briefly, but it’s not enjoyable. The stimulation is almost painful as it hits all the wrong sensations. This, however, feels like just the right amount of stimulus. I want more over the rest of my body. I imagine those perfect white teeth she shows when she smiles sinking into my flesh, grounding me into the moment. Her body presses into mine. My nerves tingle, and I inhale sharply as I guide her away from the fray.

  Chapter Two

  Delta

  Leave it to me to get entangled with the scariest dude at my gate. When we return to the gate and resume our polite ignoring of the other, I notice others give him a wide berth. There’s something different about him I like. That blunt honesty gives me comfort. I do best when I know what to expect. The hours continue to whittle away as the delay lengthens. It’s only a matter of time until they call it. I work on my word search between texting Rose. I never minded the snow. I think it’s pretty most of the time. Right now, the fluffy, white flakes are the enemy holding me prisoner as it accumulates outside, piling higher and higher as the sun sets.

  “No.” Groans of disappointment bring my head up to the desk. Canceled is splashed across the screen above the perky attendant’s head.

  They’re finally calling it. Dejected, my shoulders slump, and I lean my head back, sinking into the seat. Might as well get comfortable. People huddle around, making phone calls and hustling up to the desk as if the gate agent has control over the weather. I feel a pang of sympathy for the young girl who probably just wants to go home before she’s trapped in here with us. Pulling my legs up, I remain seated, letting them all burn off their excess energy before I try to do anything.

  A few workers join the attendant, explaining over and over again that no flights are headed out tonight. I saw a few people gather their things and rush away from the gate. Probably trying to rent a car to drive. I wouldn’t want to be out on those treacherous roads. I doubt the city has had the time to clear and salt them.

  “I need to get home. You waited until the last minute to announce this, and now I’m stranded.” The masculine voice booms through the space.

  I jerk in my seat. My body tenses and I shrink inward, making myself as small as possible. Be less visible. You aren’t a target if no one notices you.

  “Sir, I’m sorry. These things happen.”

  “You will find me another flight.” The tow-haired man’s chest heaves as he leans over the counter toward her.

  A male gate attendant joins her. “There aren’t any going out today.”

  The angry passenger is deterred by his presence. “Then find me an alternate mode of travel.”

  “That’s not part of our job description, sir,” the male attendant replies.

  “I’m making it part of your job.”

  The brunet attendant edges his female co-worker behind him and takes a protective stance. “Unfortunately for you, that’s not how it works.”

  In two heartbeats, the customer is flying across the counter. Screams spring up. My heart beats fast in my chest. My mouth goes dry. I grip the sides of the chair as the past threatens to overshadow the present. I’m not back in that home. Snap. Snap. The slap of leather meeting leather is a ghost echoing in my ears. The heavy tread of boots over wood as my foster-father lurches forward drunkenly. My breathing increases as the men wrestle on the ground. Men clad in black polos and cargo pants run down the aisle, pushing the crowd back. They stream in like a swat team in matching padded vests. Blood rushes in my head, magnifying my heartbeat. The man kicks out, roaring as he rushes them like a deranged bear. Hitting the first man like a football player sacking another, he bowls the security man over into the one behind him. They fall like living dominos, crashing to the ground in front of me. Crying out, I scramble up, perching on the back of the seat in my haste to escape the ruckus.

  A tangle of limbs, security struggles to right themselves as the rogue passenger climbs over the pile like a victorious football player about to score. One of the men captures his ankle. He goes down. I watch, panicked, as the large man falls toward me like a chopped tree delivered its final blow.

  “No.” The yell breaks through my stupor. I fall back as the man is jerked away from me. Sam is standing, breathing hard, holding the man by the scruff of his jacket. The passenger chokes as he dangles in his grasp. Sam’s black eyes are dilated and filled with rage. Glazed over, his singular focus is the man in front of him. He’s going to hurt him, and it’ll be my fault.

  “Sam.”

  His teeth grind together as he stares down at the man, struggling to remove his massive hands from his coat. “Let go of me, asshole.”

  “You will not hurt her.”

  “Sam.” I stumble over the chair, gripping his bicep. “Please look at me.” I dig my fingers in. His eyes flick toward me. “Yes. Focus on me. I’m okay.”

  “You’re not hurt?” His voice is flat, but I sense the question that was implied.

  “No. Please let him go. Security will take care of him.” I press my body against his. “Please.”

  “Jesus Christ. Look at the size of that guy.”

  “Did you see him lift that guy like he was nothing?”

  “He’s scarier than the guy who just went off.”

  Whispers go up around us. Sam glances around, face growing red. He lowers the man, and security pounces, handcuffing him and taking him to the ground. Kneeling, they hold him immobile.

  “Thank you for your assistance, sir.” An officer touches Sam’s arm, and he flinches.

  “H-How about we take a little walk?” I lick my lips, unsure of how Sam will respond.

  He nods, and I take him away from the insanity unfolding around us. I powerwalk, working out what to say.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Sam peers down at me, genuinely confused.

  “Saving me back there.”

  “You needed help. You’re tiny, and the man was immense. He could’ve hurt you. I didn’t want to see you hurt.”

  My heart warms. I feel myself softening toward him. He put himself in harm’s way for me.

  Don’t read too much into it, Delta. He probably would’ve done it for anyone. Suddenly self-conscious, I drop my hand. He must think I’m so clingy. I shove my hands into my pockets, unsure what else to do with them.

  “Feeling calmer?” I study his face. His face lacks expression, but his eyes are alive in a way most peoples aren’t. The anger from earlier has faded, replaced by a deep intelligence.

  “Yes.”

  “We should give them more time to clear up the mess. Then we’ll go back. What do you think of that plan?”

  “It’s acceptable.”

  After slowly walking the length of the B Gate in comfortable silence, we make our way back to our things.

  People rush over to us. He walks away, and the crowd parts like the Red Sea.

  “Are you okay, honey? We made sure no one touched your stuff,” a kindly, white-haired woman asks.

  “I’m fine, ma’am.”

  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” The salt and pepper haired man beside her gestures toward Sam.

  “What?” I wrinkle my nose, offended for him. “No.” Their assumptions piss me off.

  “We all noticed that one is a little off,” the woman agrees, lowering her voice.

  “There is nothing off about him,” I defend him, taken back to another time and another boy who’d been continuously misunderstood.

  The woman hums. “I know he saved you,” she says in a patronizing tone, “but a young girl traveling alone should look out for herself. Don’t let gratitude blind you. That one’s odd.”

  My jaw tenses. I’ve known people like them all my life. Judgmental and quick to write others off because they only see what’s on the surface
. They never bother to change their narrow-minded perceptions. I step away from them. Assuring the others of my well-being, I collapse in my seat.

  Delta: Looks like I won’t be making it home for Christmas Eve, kiddo.

  Rose: No!

  Delta: They finally called it.

  Rose: What are you going to do?

  Delta: Hunker down. Tell everyone I’m sorry and save me a plate of my favorites?

  Rose: Of course. We’ll check in on you later.

  The conversation soothes my frayed nerves. I leave out my misadventure. Upsetting Rose right now is the last thing I want to do. The mood in the area drops into gloom as night begins to set in. Tired of playing games, I put my phone away. Opening my backpack, I rummage through the meager offerings and frown. I never regretted my healthy habits like I do today. A candy bar would hit the spot. Who can be upset when they’re eating chocolate?

  I have a few bottles of water, granola bars, an apple, and a banana. My mind drifts to the brown sugar glazed ham I’d be eating with my family right now if it wasn’t for the snow, and I groan.

  “Guys, I know this isn’t what we had in mind, but it’s still Christmas Eve.”

  I glance over at the middle-aged, brown-skinned woman with spiral curls that frame a round face, who is holding the hand of a white-haired blond man with piercing gray eyes. Her brown eyes are full of kindness, and her voice is strong and confident. She’s the type of woman who inspires you to follow her. The three olive-skinned boys next to her have lips that are full on the top and thin on the bottom, just like their mother. The rest of their features are their father beside them made over.

  Their hazel-colored eyes are a blend of his icy blue and their mother’s brown. With their black pants and red sweaters with varying designs, they look as if they’ve stepped out of a magazine. Sitting up straighter, I listen to what she has to say.

  “If we pool all our things together, we can have a little party and at least go to sleep tonight with a full belly.”