I wear an ugly Christmas sweater to the movies the next night. I’m tired, sore, hair still wet from a cold shower. She’s behind the smudged glass, looking perky in a Noel 24 Cinema uniform, “Eve” spelled out in big, black letters on her nametag.
“Cole!” she says, so loud I can hear her fine through the thick glass. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Eve,” I say, excitedly, so that it sounds like “Merry Christmas Eve.” I realize, suddenly, that both statements still apply.
“Ticket for one?” she asks.
“Maybe later,” I say. “Listen, can you grab a break? Like a dinner break or something?”
She frowns. “Oh, I dunno,” she says, already shaking her head. “I just started, you know…”
“It’s pretty important,” I say.
She pauses, then nods. There’s a surly kid in the corner, reading some thick book pressed close to his face, wearing an ironic Santa cap. He and Eve talk for a minute before he shrugs, looks at me, smiles, and puts the book down.
“Sure thing,” she says, hustling out from behind the glass and out into the cold with me. “My assistant manager says it’s okay.”
“That’s your assistant manager?” I ask, looking back over my shoulder at the kid.
She sighs. “Yes, and it’s more horrifying than you think. He used to be one of my students.” She shivers as we walk, and it’s not just because of the cold.
“Where are we going?” she asks as we cut across the parking lot, past the café and the Books ‘N Beans and the courtyard where, even now, a chorus of little kids sings “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”
“It’s a surprise,” I say, as we inch past the Galleria itself and down the cobblestone walkway leading to the Winchester Arms. “A Christmas surprise.”
“For me?” she asks.
I chuckle, punching my key code into the gate. “Who else?” I ask, holding it open for her.
We pause beneath my apartment, the tree standing in front of the big picture window, blinking gaily as if just for us. “How do you like it?” I ask, pointing up.
“Yours?” she asks, her eyes following my finger.
I shake my head, because to speak would be to lie. “You’ll see,” I finally croak, voice tight with emotion.
I slide the new keychain from my pocket. It’s shaped like a candy cane, with a single house key attached. I open the door, the smell of gingerbread air freshener still heavy in the air after my efforts to spruce the place up all afternoon.
It’s clean, and crisp and everything that was mine, or personal, is gone, which isn’t much. Three years and I had just a few suitcases and bags and a box or two of books. It took me more time to clean the place up than it did to move out of the apartment and into my new room at the Sleep ‘N Stay.
There is paperwork on the counter, a new lease agreement, and keys and codes and passwords and more, but for now… I just hand her the front door key.
“Merry Christmas, Eve,” I say, pressing it into her hand. “I hope you like it.”
“Like… what?” she asks, but she knows. Her wide eyes, her cracking voice… she knows. “You mean…”
I nod, guiding her toward the patio. The only thing new, besides a few essentials in the fridge and the keychain, is a little bistro set for the patio. Two chairs, a table, one of those flameless candles flickering merrily for ambience.
“You can sit here, every night, and watch the people come and go,” I tell her, voice thick with emotion. “You can stay as long as you like, and be as close to Albert as humanly possible.”
“I don’t,” she says, sliding into one of the chairs as if she might fall down if she didn’t. “I don’t understand. You said… you said there weren’t any units available.”
“One just opened up,” I lie. “My buddy in the rental office called me up this morning and told me about it. I hurried over and made the deal.”
She shakes her head. “But my credit report. The bankruptcy…”
“I pulled a few strings,” I tell her. “Got them to waive the first and last month’s rent. Think you can come up with $850 a month working at the movie theater?”
She shakes her head. “Not quite yet, but… I have a little savings to supplant it for awhile. I’ve seen the competition; I should be management soon.”
I chuckle. “I have no doubt.”
She’s breathing a little heavy, clutching her chest. “You okay, Eve?”
“No,” she says. “I’m not. I… I still can’t believe this is mine. And tonight, of all nights.”
“I wanted you to spend Christmas close to Albert,” I tell her. “I thought you were due a Christmas surprise, after all you’ve been through these last few years.”
We talk a little more, about utilities and fuse boxes and light switches and gate key codes, but her break is almost over and we stand. I let her lock the door on the way out and she tries to hand the key back.
“It’s yours now, Eve,” I remind her. “This apartment, that key, the furniture, it’s all yours.”
She shakes her head and sticks close by my side all the way back to the theater. I go to buy a ticket but she hands me a free pass, already torn in half. “On the house,” she winks, waving me inside. “The least I can do. And here’s a coupon for the Christmas Combo at the concessions stand.”
I chuckle as I cash it in, feeling silly with my bucket of popcorn and red vines and soda as I slip into Theater # 6, which is showing Santa Versus the North Pole Vampires.
So at least there’s that…
* * * * *
About the Author
Rusty Fischer is the author of Christmas in Snowflake: Three Heartwarming Holiday Tales, forthcoming from Decadent Publishing. Visit him at www.snowflakeseries.com for dozens of FREE stories from the fictional town of Snowflake!
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