I sat on the couch in the living room as the snow fell down outside, a cup of coffee steaming in my hands. The fire crackled in the fireplace and the twinkling lights from the Christmas tree in the other room bounced playfully off of the stone walls of the family room. A whiff of coffee later I felt that maybe now was the time to think. No. Thinking was a least another cup away.
I pulled my cramping legs out from underneath me. I had to have been sitting on the couch like this for a good hour and a half. Church had let out at ten. After the tedious drive home through the blizzard, a three mile drive which had to have taken thirty minutes, I had sat with the family as we read “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” the put out reindeer carrots and Santa cookies. After giving my sister, and three year old brother a kiss on the cheek, and lying to my parents about how I would go to bed soon, I had brewed a pot of steaming salvation then perched myself upon the couch.
The clock on the cable box read 11:55. Yeah, I had been here a while. Christmas Eve was almost at an end. The holiday was almost half way over. I attempted to think hard upon whether this was a good or bad thing. Another whiff of coffee. No, still couldn’t think. I looked at my foot as it hovered in the air before me. I was too mentally deranged to use my brain to tell my leg to lower it. My taupe panty hose had a hole going around the big toe on my left foot. I always knew that panty hose were good for one time wear, despite what my father had said when I mentioned I needed a new pair. Why else would they be sold in box sets of five at Wal-Mart?
I finally gulped down the rest of my coffee in one glug, and stood up to walk the empty mug into the kitchen. Through the darkness and the light emitted by a twinkling Christmas tree and a dying fire I managed not to crash into too many hard and heavy objects. Just the kitchen island and counter across from it. Not too bad if I do say so myself. I rubbed my eyes and tried to adjust them to the darkness. The last thing I wanted was a couple huge bruises incurred by walking through the dark on Christmas Eve that I would have to explain to the gaggle of people who were due for dinner tomorrow.
With a heavy sigh I made my way out of the kitchen. So much for thinking. It was Christmas for goodness sake. Who wanted to mentally deal with stressful issues on Christmas? That had to be what the three or four days between now and New Year’s Eve were for. As I headed towards the stairs, the falling snow outside caught my eye. It was beginning to mount up. A good foot was to be expected before morning, I wouldn’t have been surprised if we got two.
Suddenly a whim came to mind. I wanna go for a walk. Such whims were frequent occurrences. Usually ones I had when conversing with distant friends at weird hours of the night. You’d be talking with a friend you hadn’t seen since you transferred and all of a sudden you get the compulsory urge to go for a walk. You then tell you friend about this urge you have and they laugh at you with some nonsense about how unsafe it is to go prancing through suburbia at four a.m. It was suburbia for goodness sake. What the heck could happen?
After convincing myself that it would be a short walk, down the road and back, with no detours at all, I slipped on my boots, coat, hat, and gloves, then made my way out of the cul-de-sac. The clouds hung low over the frozen earth and completely shielded the moon from view. The only light the illuminated the city street was that of the Christmas lights that decked out all the modern homes, and the twinkling lights from the many Christmas trees that stood in large bay windows on the front side of the house, for all who drove by to see.
Did anyone ever see the world on Christmas Eve? Did anyone ever bother to see what it looked like at midnight, in the snow, alone? It wasn’t a bad view. I certainly didn’t mind it. In the day the brilliance of the world is undermined by the glow of the sun and the grime and grit that covered the street. At night, there was nothing blocking your crystalline view. Nothing shielding you from what wonders the world really had in store. Funny how something so many feared, brought comfort on the night when one should have been the most comforted of all.
I heard the sound of a car coming up from behind me. Probably a family returning from the late service at church. Maybe even a person who had forgotten a present and was out to the local 24-hour drug store to pick up whatever was left on the barren shelves. Or, in my luck, a drunken college guy returning from what had to have been a pretty wild night at the local strip tease off of Main Street. I could smell the cigarette smoke as the car came to a slow speed from behind and heard the beat of the base on the radio as the guy lowered his window to call out at me from the driver’s seat.
“Hey babe.”
Ignoring the call, I walked onward, pretending I hadn’t heard the man at all. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation with this drunken loon. And the night had been so promising and peaceful in the falling snow.
“Oi! Are you deaf?” the guy shouted as he drove the car at a snails pace, matching that of my walking on the icy sidewalk. I tried to keep my footing steady on the slick walk. Keeping a good pace and doing so seemed to be more difficult then thought.
“Hey, it’s cold out here. Let me give you a ride. You going home or something?” he said, attempting a less brutal approach. Though there was something underlying in his voice that wreaked with pure agitation at the fact I was yet to respond to him. “Did you hear me? I’ll take you home.”
Finally I lost it. Some guys just couldn’t take a hint. “The chances of me getting in that car with you are very slim,” I called, my breath rising in a cloud before my eyes.
“Huh? Why not?” he asked confused.
“You’re drunk, go home. Drive safely,” I said curtly, not even looking at him.
“Aw, why are you being so difficult? You’re cute, you know that,” he said with a smile. Compliments sure as hell were not going to get me into that car with him. If he thought they were, he had another thing coming to him.
“Go away,” I warned. I really didn’t want to argue with this guy. I wanted nothing more than for him to roll up his window and go away. Was that so much to ask?
“God, try being nice to you and shove it all in my face? What the f*ck is wrong with you, bitch?” he spat in disgust. I took in a breath, ready to make a smart ass retort, and just as I did, the heel to my boot hit a chunk of ice and broke it, sending me to the ground.
The wind was knocked out of me as I lay sputtering on the cold concrete. I heard something snap as I had crashed to the ground and when I opened my eyes and inhaled the crisp night air, I saw my wrist was cramped beneath me. I tried to remember if it usually bent that way. I didn’t think it did. I heard the sound of the car door opening and closing, and footsteps on fresh fallen snow.
Great, here I was lying helpless on the sidewalk, and a rather frustrated drunk college guy was coming to more than likely shove me into his car and take me to God knows where. What a lovely night, I should go for a walk. This is exactly why my friends told me not to do this when we talked. Exactly.
“Hey, Mary!”
I heard a voice that didn’t belong to the guy in the car calling through the crystalline night. The sound of boots picked up from a walk to a run as someone else drew near. The guy from the car had stopped and was standing looking at the rushing figure in the night. I lifted my head and saw another guy come running at us, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. Who the hell was Mary?
“Mary,” the new guy said, kneeling next to me when he got close. “Goodness, don’t go running off like that again.”
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?” he asked, helping me sit up on the frozen walk. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“Um-I,” I stuttered. Apparently I was Mary. Okay, work with this. This guy seemed to have a different agenda from the guy in the car. “I’m sorry.”
“No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have yelled like that,” he said as he gave me a hug. He then turned his attention from me and looked up at the man from the car, who was lingering above us, looking rather annoyed.
“Thank you,” the new guy pulled himself to his feet and shook the hand of the glowering college student. “I wasn’t sure how far she had gone. My fiancée’s a stubborn one. Thanks for slowing her down.”
“Whatever,” the college guy shook his head in what could have been taken as disappointment. He walked back into his car and got in, slamming the door behind him.
“Merry Christmas,” my rescuer called after the guy as he drove away. He turned away from the street as the car disappeared in the distance, and again kneeled next to me on the icy gravel. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I gritted. My wrist hurt like hell. It had been a good fall, that was for sure.
“Your wrist?” he motioned to me holding it tight against my chest. Fighting back tears I nodded, sucking in a breath. The last thing I wanted to do was start crying in front of this total stranger. Not that I thought he would have held it against me, he seemed more humane than that. “Let’s get a peak at it.”
With that he slowly pulled off my leather glove and examined my throbbing hand. The joint was already beginning to swell and it had begun to glow a bright pink.
“Good job,” he smiled turning it over in his hand lightly and gently. “Most likely a sprain. I did the same back at Thanksgiving during a hockey game. Damn ice.”
I pulled my hand away and brought it back to my chest. “Thank you,” I said as I began to walk slowly back from the way I came.
“Not a problem,” he smiled. “Not to sound like a stalker, but I saw that the guy in the car was sort of bugging you, when I noticed you slipped, well, the chances of you getting off the concrete without his help seemed unlikely.”
“How’d you know he was bugging me?” I asked. Had he been watching me from his front window or something?
“Again, not to sound like a stalker, but I’ve been behind you since Minton. I was taking a walk.”
It was funny how I hadn’t noticed the footsteps behind me. But then again, sucked into my own little world as I had been for most of the duration of the walk, it didn’t surprise me.
“Oh,” I took in a breath. My wrist throbbed like hell, all I wanted to do was to go home and ice it.
“I’m Jake, by the way,” he said extending a hand. Then realizing that the chances of my taking it were very slim, laughed as he brought it down.
“Heather,” I forced a grin. Hurt. Like. Hell.
“It’s nice to meet you Heather. Really I hope you didn’t mind my intervening back there. I know you could have probably handled yourself and all…”
“You have no idea how thankful I am,” I tried to laugh. “Really, thanks.”
“You’re very welcome,” Jake beamed. “So, what brings you out on a night like this? Do you usually walk the streets of the suburbs at odd hours of the night during blizzards?”
“I, I just needed to get out of the house for a bit,” I said, not wanting to go into further detail. He seemed awfully talkative, which wasn’t a bad thing; I was glad someone was here forcing me to stay relatively coherent.
“I understand,” he laughed again. “My flight got in a nine this morning and ever since my mother hasn’t let me be. Guess that’s what happens when your only son goes away to college. Are you visiting for the holidays as well?”
“No,” I shook my head and blinked my eyes. Flakes were beginning to stick to my eyelashes and cloud my vision. Not a good thing. “I’m a senior at the high school down the road.”
“Poor you,” Jake shook his head. “You have to deal with the parents on a regular basis.”
“Don’t remind me,” I laughed.
“Ah, it’s not that bad, you’ll miss ‘em next year. But speaking of home, you really ought to go get that iced,” he motioned at my swollen joint.
“Nah, I was just planning on roaming the streets and letting it permanently screw itself up,” I retorted sounding a tad harsher than I had planned on doing so. The pain just made that happen to people.
Regardless of the severity of my tone, Jake laughed lightly. “You’re funny, I like that.”
“Really? ‘Cause the way I see it, I’m being an ungrateful bitch.”
“That too,” he nodded with a grin. “But due to the pain you’re in that can be overlooked. Now, home to ice it?”
“I’m just up the road,” I nodded with my head.
“Where?”
“Limoges,” I answered.
“Limoges? That’s a good quarter of a mile. No, not in this snow.”
“Then what do you propose I do?” I stopped and turned to him.
“I’m three houses up, why don’t you come on in and wrap your hand up inside. You can call your parents to come give you a lift, or I’ll drive you home if you want,” Jake offered. I stared at him skeptically. Was this guy really inviting a total stranger into his home on Christmas Eve? Did he not realize he hardly knew me, or that I could be a hardened criminal of some sort. “I know what this sounds like.”
“What?” I asked, discombobulated.
“You’re probably thinking I’m trying to pick you up or something,” he laughed to himself.
“No it’s just-”
“I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he laughed. “I’ll even have my mother wrap it if you like.”
“I think I oug-”
“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer,” he warned.
Growing tiresome of this game and looking at his bright blue eyes I nodded tediously. “Very well then.”
“Good girl,” he said with a grin, and with that picked my up and carried my in his arms up to his house, much to my surprise.
Once inside the warm home, the smell of baking cookies wafted through my nostrils and the heat of a crackling fire soothed my bones. I heard the sound of a woman call from the kitchen, and soon a lady who looked around the age of my mother appeared in the front door, wearing a Christmas sweater and holding hot-mitts in her hands.
“Who’s this?” she asked with a smile, looking at me in her son’s arms.
“Heather,” Jake said as he walked me into what was the family living room and placed me neatly on the couch. “This is my mother. Mom, this is Heather, I think she sprained her wrist.”
“Well that simply won’t do,” his mother said kindly as she came around ad took a look at it. “Does it hurt deary?”
“Incredibly,” I bit my lip as she tried to flex it. “Ouch.”
“I think it’s a little bit more than sprained,” she said looking up at her son, why don’t you go dial 9-1-1 and call for and ambulance, then we’ll get her parents on the phone.”
“Oh but-” I tried to cut in.
“Nonsense, deary,” she said hushing me. “What’s your phone number?”
I told her the number, though rather reluctantly and then gladly sipped on a cup of eggnog Jake had handed me as he returned from the kitchen. He looked down at me from across the room and smiled smugly.
“What?” I asked catching his gaze.
“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin.
“Jake, I am so sorry,” I said. “I completely ruined your Christmas Eve.”
“Nonsense,” Jake laughed. The flashing blue and red lights from the ambulance as it pulled in the drive mixed in with the glow of my parent’s headlights filled the living room from the outside. “You’re the most exciting thing to happen on Christmas Eve in the last two thousand years.”
