Afterwards

Afterwards the house was quiet.  The noise dissipated and there was the soothing sound of being inside while it sleeted outside, the tiny drops of ice seeming to sizzle on the tin patio roof.

The discarded wrapping paper strewn about, varying degrees of gifts stacked and sorted, and there was a peaceful chaos to the landscape...

Gift-giving or gift-receiving is a curious mystery...please guess what I am presenting to you...please know that I thought about this before buying...at times gifts become rote, and you get exactly what the person asked for...others are darling mysteries, trying to surprise the intended.

Protected by the thinnest of paper and perhaps the tightest row of ribbon, these gifts become revealings in an instant.  You know rather quickly if you appreciate...like...or love.

She was one of those darling mysteries.

He never knew what the outcome would be...her clothed in a warm winter coat, or in just the flimsiest of shirts...a red sweater or nothing at all.  He was always guessing...wondering what thoughts she was presenting...what accommodations to him...seeing her was always a delight...and from there?  Who knew...where would it lead?  What might happen next?

These were the greatest reveals that filled him and made each arrival come with such anticipation.

And only in her departures did he realize the despair of watching a gift break apart in his hands.
It was like that every time...afterwards.

Waiting in Santa's Line

He heard her before he actually saw her...she was just talking to her daughter as they stood behind him in line.  He barely heard her, with the sound of Christmas music droning out most of the noise in the store.

The line wound its way through the store, and people held their jackets in their hands, sweating in the warmth of the mall and the hundred of fellow shoppers doomed to wait the interminable distance to see Santa.  He was up there, somewhere...

But her voice was able to be heard...southern, soft.  Almost like a tiny song that floated a little higher than the Christmas tunes...he tried to slide glance at her, half turning as though observing the depth of the line, the length of it.  She was leaning down, her hair falling into her face as she unzipped her daughter's jacket.  She said a few more words and he heard them clearly.

Butter slowly melting over the heat of cast iron.  That's what he imagined listening to her.  He turned back to face front, impatient now, frustrated.  He didn't want to be obvious and turn all the way around.

He fussed with his son's hair, scare-crow like, most likely from his woolen cap.  He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he knew her.  Felt like he had seen her before.

The line slowly moved, the children embarking and disembarking from Santa's lap.  The surge of the crowd bumping them slightly as they tried to pass and move through the line and the the shoppers in the mall.  A few kids were crying, toddlers, beyond impatient.

I know how you feel kid, he muttered.

Suddenly the little girl behind him dropped a mitten and it slid past them and landed in from of him.  It was red, with a tiny bead on it that was white.  He reached down and picked it up, holding it like an offering.  And he turned.

She regarded him for a second, a tilt of her head.  She was even lovelier than he had imagined, and he had to break his stare for a second so he wouldn't be just foolish in his rudeness.  He turned towards the little girl and held out her mitten.  She grabbed it  and thanked him.

He had a bit of a choice.  Return his gaze back to the lady or turn back to the front of the line.

He returned to face the front, his face warming as he felt her stare onto the back of him.

He felt a small tap on his shoulder, arced his head a little bit and she had closed the gap between them, almost like about to make a whisper.


Thank you, she said and he faced her again, this time even closer.  The music was in between songs and it was very quiet so he heard it very well.  He nodded...her eyes merrily watching him.

They both smiled and returned to their prior places, the sounds starting up again and he felt a burning as he focused on staring ahead and hoping that Santa would take his damn sweet time.