First Christmas

by Trevor McCall

  “Your fiancé should be with you on Christmas. Especially your fiancé on this Christmas.” Beth wanted to say more in counterpoint to all that humbug about how Christmas was just another day for Aubrey, but in that moment, the boardroom door opened behind them. Aubrey and Beth grew quiet. They knew who entered the room.

  Victoria Lynch was a coldly beautiful self-made-almost billionaire. In the Eighties and early Nineties, she would have been called a corporate raider and they would have made a successful movie out of her life. Someone famous, like Sigourney Weaver, would have played the lead. Just because the press didn’t publicize the takeover bids the way they once had, did not mean Victoria’s compulsive need, to cannibalize retail companies for their value before selling the leftovers back to less intelligent investors after she made her millions, was any more moral than it had been in the Eighties and Nineties. This Christmas, Victoria was focused on one goal. She wanted the ‘almost billionaire’ label people used to describe her when they introduced her to strangers, changed into plain old ‘billionaire’. She would destroy anyone who interfered, including the people who worked for her if she had to.

  “Love the hat.” As Aubrey predicted, Victoria said this in a way that let Beth know, whatever she really thought about the hat, she did NOT love it.

  Beth’s best response was to take Victoria at her word. “Thank you, Victoria.”

  Having spoken one sentence in a category unrelated to business, Victoria felt justified in beginning her excoriation of Aubrey. The slow-motion boardroom door had not yet swung shut. “I hate that you want these days off, Aubrey.” Victoria circled the boardroom table to take a seat on the side opposite Aubrey and Beth. A power play. It would have been as easy for her to take the empty seat in between Aubrey and Beth. Victoria wasn’t their equal and needed to show it.

  Aubrey was more upset than Victoria that she to ask for the days off. Of course, as Victoria was so fond of pointing out during her yearly review, Aubrey didn’t know how to be cold-blooded. She didn’t know how to be cold-blooded when it came to requests from her mother who had always been wonderful to her. “It’s my mother’s first Christmas without my father.” Aubrey summarized for Victoria.

  “I know WHY you want the days off; I just hate THE FACT THAT you want the days off.” Victoria used the most withering tone she could find. A neutral observer would say Victoria just converted the highly successful, highly competent, Aubrey—into a child. She also made Beth a witness to the job.

  “I will be available twenty-four-seven.” Aubrey grasped at any straw she thought might make Victoria relinquish the hold she had around Aubrey’s sense of guilt.

  “I have every confidence you’ll be available, because I know what the deal means to you in terms of your year-end bonus. None of that changes the fact you won’t be here, does it?” Victoria saw, in Aubrey’s declining features, proof she was making her point. She turned the screws a few more times to be sure. “This deal for Clarke’s Department Stores hasn’t been signed. It could still fall through.”

  Aubrey jumped in with the material she rehearsed so many times, she knew it the way she knew how to ride a bike. “They need us, Victoria. None of his sons wants to keep running the business. They want to cash out, get their payday, retire to Ibiza.” Aubrey included the part about Ibiza because she knew Victoria would recognize it. It was a place only the obscenely rich could afford to go. Mentioning it, constituted the sum total of her current ability to stand up to Victoria.

  Victoria smiled at the reference. “I don’t begrudge them their vacations in Ibiza, but I am determined to be a billionaire by New Year’s Eve.”

  “You will be Victoria, I promise.” Aubrey regretted the promise as soon as it left her lips.

  “Then I can hold you responsible if I am not?”

  Aubrey had no choice. She had backed herself into a corner. “Of course.”

  “Excellent!” It was the first time that morning Aubrey heard Victoria put genuine emotion in her voice. “When do you leave for Virginia?”

  “My departure time is 1:30.” Aubrey wondered if Victoria might surprise her with the ‘have a good trip’ line she hadn’t gotten from Walter’s note that morning.

  “Good, then you have time to review the numbers on Clarke’s core businesses one more time before you leave.” Victoria was overjoyed to see how much she punctured Aubrey’s spirits right before she left to go be with her mother. Aubrey had extreme talent; Victoria wouldn’t dispute that. Aubrey reminded her of herself when she was fifteen years younger. The problem with Aubrey was she wouldn’t isolate herself from the gravity of others in the way she needed in order to acquire filthy riches. Aubrey must be taught that before Victoria could trust her.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Aubrey knew when she was excused. She nodded to Beth, who would stay behind and review operational plans for the day with Victoria. She then exited the boardroom sick to death of Victoria, and Walter, and everything else about New York City.

  *

  As soon as Aubrey stepped out of the cab and onto the curb at the airport, she felt fifty percent better. The stress of the deal for Clarke’s Department Stores, combined with Victoria’s growing insistence on absolute perfection, on top of all the plans she needed to finalize for her wedding, was beginning to take a toll. She didn’t know how much until her glimpse of airplanes on runways caused her to feel like she shed half her body weight.

  As she went through the motions of getting her boarding pass and finding her terminal, she sunk into nostalgia for her hometown of Timberville, Virginia. Just saying the name to herself, caused her to break out in a smile. So many memories of the people and places that shaped her into the kind of person that got low six figure checks as year-end bonuses. Her father would be so proud.

  Her smile twisted into a partial frown. Was she right about that? Would her father be proud? Yes, he had wanted the best for her. He even took out an extra loan for her when that one scholarship defunded just before her senior year in college. The question she didn’t have an answer for, however, was whether or not he would really be happy to know the only reason she was going home this Christmas was she felt too guilty not to go home. Would he be happy she was that much of a workaholic? He never treated her or her mom as anything less than the two most important people on the planet. Where had she learned this model of sacrificing everything for status, money, and power? Was it from Victoria? Walter? She hadn’t even held the elevator for that elderly lady this morning. She let it close right in her face. Her father wouldn’t approve of that lack of kindness.

  Maybe this Christmas in Virginia was what she needed. She’d take some time to smell the roses. She would get her priorities in order. Or, at least, make sure she was chasing the things she wanted to be chasing. She was thirty after all. Maybe she could even write one of those lists people did in the movies that no one in real life has time to write. She would find a way to visit a few old friends. Who doesn’t want to reminisce about high school during Christmas?

  Thinking about high school rattled Aubrey. There were unpleasant memories there. She did not want to reminisce over them. One person, in particular, she did not want to spend any time thinking about. Aubrey checked her phone to distract her from thinking any more about that person.

  Since she had no new messages, she decided to text her mom and let her know she was at the airport and still on time to land in Charlottesville at nine o’clock. She then used the phone to check the forecast and saw they were calling for heavy snow to start falling an hour or two before her plane touched down. She texted this information to her mom as well. She also told her to be careful on the way to pick her up. The road that wound through the Blue Ridge mountains would be treacherous as the snow started to fall.

  Next, she flipped over to the thread of messages between her and Walter. She noticed how short it was. There was no emotion in any of the messages he sent her. Once every six or seven texts he included a perfunctory ‘Love you’. It seemed to Aubrey he did i
t to convince himself it was true, or to mark a box on an ‘I am a real boyfriend checklist’ he found on the internet.

  As she waited, she tried to remember if she and Walter ever had a romantic day, or even a ‘best friends hanging out with each other and laughing because they really enjoyed each other’s company’ day. Her mind drew a blank. How could that be? When Walter asked her to marry him, she jumped at the offer. It felt to her then as though they were the perfect…

  What? She didn’t know how to complete the sentence. What category of relationship would grant them a first-place trophy? At this point, she would take a participation trophy. She glanced at a couple several rows of seats to her left who looked to be in college. They were probably headed home to spend Christmas with her parents, or his. Those two couldn’t get enough of each other. Aubrey watched as the young woman whispered something into the young man’s ear which caused him to look sharply to his right, and burst into laughter. He then gave her a big world-stopping kiss which let her know nothing else mattered more than her.

  Aubrey didn’t want that type of relationship. Public displays of affection caused her anxiety. They made her feel embarrassed. Walter felt the same way, which was one of the things she loved about him. It made her happier to think of Walter AND put the words ‘things she loved about him’ next to each other in her mind. It was like a mental confirmation she did, in fact, love him.

  Aubrey might have continued on this path in her mind until the announcement was made for her to board her plane, except her mom texted her back. She said she was aware of the weather forecast and had made… other arrangements.

  Aubrey was confused. What in the world could that mean? How had her mom made other arrangements, and with whom? Why had she put three dots between the words ‘made’ and the words ‘other arrangements? That made it sound like picking Aubrey up at the airport was some sort of mission for an exotic para-military rescue team. She wasn’t too worried about it, since it was her mother who had made the ‘other arrangements’. On the other hand, it was slightly disturbing when she tried to call her mom and her mom didn’t answer. The call went straight to voicemail.

  A minute or so after that, her mom texted back and told her not to worry. She would see Aubrey this evening after she got home. Aubrey put the phone back in her pocket thinking her mother had said she was going to see her that night in… the most convoluted way possible.

  Chapter Two

  The previous night’s snow lay thick and untouched in Mrs. Lough’s driveway as Kyle Morgan approached in his big dual-rear-wheeled pickup truck with the plough attached. Kyle smiled as he imagined what would happen when he set the blade on his truck down on Mrs. Lough’s driveway and began to scrape. He would have done the good deed without the show, but he loved how dependable some people could be in their cantankerousness.

  Sure enough, he hadn’t finished the first pass when Mrs. Lough stormed onto her porch. Kyle turned his truck off, so he could absorb the spectacle of Mrs. Lough in all her glory.

  “Kyle Immanuel Morgan,” Mrs. Lough pulled out the heavy artillery by using all three of his names.

  “Hold on there a minute, Mrs. Lough. You know I don’t let anybody but my mama talk to me like that.” His interruption had been purposeful, he knew it would stir her up more if she weren’t able to get all of her complaints out in one loud continuous burst.

  “Well, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, Kyle. I am on a fixed income. I do not have money laying around to pay for getting my driveway scraped. A shovel was good enough for my Earl, bless his eternal soul, and a shovel is good enough for me.” Mrs. Lough glanced toward the sky as she blessed her Earl’s soul.

  Kyle pursed his lips at Mrs. Lough, asking her with body language how many times they were going to put on this performance for each other. When Mrs. Lough gave him no sign she relented, he charged ahead with his next line in the scene they had written together after every heavy snowfall the past three years. “And if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, all the money you’ve got laying around in that house of yours is no good with me.”

  Mrs. Lough turned her back on Kyle and opened the door to her house. Over her shoulder, and just before her front door closed, she hollered at him, “insufferable do-gooder.” It was the same insult she used on him snowstorm after snowstorm.

  “Merry Christmas to you too, Mrs. Lough.” Kyle raised his voice as he said this to allow Mrs. Lough to hear him through her closed door. He then started his truck and had the entire driveway clear with little more than five minutes of effort.

  Kyle paused at the end of Mrs. Lough’s driveway. He wanted to start a Christmas playlist from his phone before pulling back onto the road toward Timberville. He was not one of those people who handled their phone while driving and had no plans to start that unsafe habit today. While he was stopped, he also took the time to plug in the string of Christmas lights that circled the rear window of his truck and ran off the car’s twelve-volt terminal. It put him in a good mood to be surrounded by the blinking reds and greens.

  He was about to pull out, when he noticed Mrs. Lough watching him from behind her dining room curtain. Kyle waved at her. He stuck his head out the window to wish her, “Merry Christmas,” one last time before pulling away. He laughed to himself as he saw those curtains angrily drawn together. Mrs. Lough would still be going through this act with him five years from now whenever it snowed. They were cut from the same cloth and neither one wanted to change.

  Kyle glanced at his watch as he pulled onto the little two-lane road that led to his shop in the center of downtown Timberville. It was only 7:45 in the morning, and he had all his ploughing jobs done, which meant he had a free day. It was too close to Christmas for any new contracting jobs to fall into his lap. People were focused on getting presents under their trees, not getting quotes on resurfacing the hardwood beneath those trees.

  Contracting jobs were his main source of income. This late in the holidays, however, he knew he wouldn’t see anyone in his shop until the middle of January. He could get away with not opening his doors the rest of the week and no one would notice. The thought enticed Kyle. Unfortunately, he couldn’t forget all the organization and cleaning projects he continually put off that were aching for a day like today with no scheduled work. He would open up the shop and tackle those.

  With no one on the road and no work projects competing for his attention, Kyle found his thoughts drifting back to something his mama told him over the phone the night before. He made sure to check in with her by phone on those odd days when he didn’t have time to stop by her house in person. Last night, she told him Aubrey Wilson was coming home for Christmas. She mentioned it in an off-hand way, as if it weren’t anything special or serious. Just a bit of small-town gossip.

  Kyle acted like the news hadn’t coursed through his veins like an extra cold shot of ice water, but he didn’t think he sold it well. His mama knew, the same as everyone else in this tiny town knew, how he felt about Aubrey. She knew that despite the twelve years which passed since they were a couple, he still carried a heartful of feelings for that woman.

  Kyle had to put Aubrey out of his mind.

  She hadn’t wanted to see him during any of her other visits through the years. What reason suggested to him this time would be different, beyond the fact his mama happened to mention she was coming? After what passed between them twelve years ago, he wasn’t sure he could blame her for never wanting to see him. Of course, there was more to that story than Aubrey knew, but if she insisted on not giving him the time of day, what was the point in rehearsing things to say when they met.

  Except, that is what he lay up half the night doing. He imagined scenarios and things he would say and then forecasted what her reaction to those scenarios would be, so he could plot out lines of casual, unrehearsed, dialogue with her. The whole thing left him feeling like he was back in twelfth grade and passing notes to her under the desk in their AP Calculus class. />
  They’d dated through all of high school. They even went to prom together. It was at prom that everything went so horribly wrong.

  Kyle looked at himself in the rear-view mirror. He scolded himself for thinking about Aubrey when he knew their paths weren’t likely to cross. Aubrey was water under the bridge of his youth. He would keep telling himself that until he believed it. Or, until she was out of Timberville and back in New York City again, whichever came first.

  The truck squeezed into the spot behind his shop Kyle parked in because whoever parked the SUV in the spot beside his had cheated way over onto his side of the line. Kyle was a great driver. He managed to claim his usual spot without scratching the paint on either vehicle. The woman still sitting in the front seat of the SUV looked familiar, but Kyle was so busy making sure he did an expert job of parking he didn’t leave enough time for his facial recognition skills to find a match.

  Needless to say, he had a hard time picking his jaw up out of the snow when he stepped down from his truck and found himself staring into the eyes of Mrs. Greta Wilson, Aubrey’s mom. Kyle recovered enough to offer an acceptable greeting. “Mrs. Wilson, what a pleasant surprise.” Kyle leaned in to give Greta a hug despite the events from high school.

  Greta accepted the hug. Anyone watching them would realize no ill will flowed his way from her. “Kyle Immanuel Morgan, you know better than to call me Mrs. Wilson.”

  Kyle laughed out loud. “Yes, ma’am.” What was with all these people calling him by his full name all the sudden? Was this to be a pattern between now and Christmas? He was pretty sure his mama had even done it to him once last night on the phone.

  “I need a favor, Kyle.” Whatever the favor was, Kyle sensed it stressed Greta out. Her face twisted with worry Kyle might not accept.