by Holly Rayner
She inhaled, enjoying the crisp cold scent of a winter’s night.
On a whim, she decided to do a tour of the window displays. The streetlights around her were strung with twinkle lights, casting a warm glow onto the sidewalks as she made her way along. On either side of her, shops had filled their windows with nutcrackers, reindeer, and a million splashes of red, white, gold and green.
Somehow, even after her parents’ divorce, Yvonne had managed to hold onto her love for the holiday season. There was something so hopeful and promising about how humans managed to find a way to light the darkest time of the year, keeping the burning embers of peace and love and good will alive, even during the gloomiest of times.
She took a turn down another block as she headed home, knowing it would be a bit of a journey. After the office party, she could do with a little fresh air. She thought about what she should make for Zadid when he came to her house, planning out every favorite dish she knew how to create.
It was going to be spectacular! She would make sure of it.
A long line of people stood along a wall, and Yvonne focused back in on her surroundings, curious. She stopped and asked a woman what was going on.
“The shelter is open late for the next few days as families prepare for their Christmas dinners,” the woman explained.
She looked embarrassed to be standing in that line, and Yvonne did her best to keep her tone neutral. She didn’t want the woman to think she was pitying her, but seeing the line and how it wasn’t moving, she saw an opportunity.
“Are they short-staffed?” she asked.
The woman nodded.
“They must be. The food pantry doesn’t usually take this long to get folks through.”
“I’ll take a look and see what’s going on. It’s too cold out here for people to be standing outside like this,” Yvonne said.
“Thank you,” the woman breathed, rubbing her hands over her arms.
Yvonne nodded before walking briskly to the front, where the line proceeded into the shelter. Stepping inside, she could tell that it was total chaos.
“Hey can you bring me one of the cranberry sauces? No, not over there—over there!”
A young woman was frantically directing three other people, who were running around trying to fill boxes as the recipients stood waiting, trying not to look upset. Yvonne approached the young leader.
“Hey, do you guys need some help?”
The young woman’s blue eyes were intense as she looked up at Yvonne.
“Are you from the main office? We’re really struggling here with the demand—we weren’t prepared for this many people!”
Unsure whether she would be allowed to help if she told the truth, Yvonne removed her coat and rolled up her sleeves.
“Yep, the main office sent me to help out tonight. Let’s start by getting more of a fireman line here. Hey guys?” she called.
The few other volunteers stopped what they were doing to listen. They all looked so stressed, Yvonne knew she had to do something to help.
“You, head over to the stuffing area, and you can do canned veggies and cranberry sauces. I see the turkeys over there, can you handle those? Let’s start with the boxes on that end and pass them between us so we can get each box out faster, okay?”
The look of relief on their faces at some guidance was rewarding as Yvonne set the new plan into motion. She handed the first box to the man standing in front of her with a smile.
“Merry Christmas!” she said.
His eyes were a little watery as he took the box.
“Bless you,” he murmured.
Before he could walk away, she placed a gentle hand on his wrist.
“Things will look up, I promise. Better days are on the horizon.”
He smiled softly as he nodded, making his way out. From that moment on, there was a flurry of activity as Yvonne and the team worked to fill boxes and whip them out the door. The woman Yvonne had spoken to outside made her way in not long after, and she grasped Yvonne’s hand.
“Thank you. It’s so nice to get inside and out of the cold.”
“Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?” Yvonne asked.
The woman nodded.
“I do, thank you. This will be very well-received back there, I promise you that much. Have a wonderful holiday.”
“And you,” Yvonne said, watching the woman’s retreating back as she made her exit into the cold city streets once more.
Yvonne had a small moment to worry about her before the next person was waiting for their box of goods, and she was back into work mode. Her back was aching and her feet were tired as the last person walked up.
“It looks like we’re going to have just enough,” Yvonne said joyfully as she handed the man the last box.
“What would we do without you? Thank you all, for everything.”
“We’re happy to help, sir,” the young woman said, stepping up beside Yvonne.
He waved a fond farewell, and after he left, the woman closed the shelter door, turning back to face Yvonne.
“Thank God you came. That was a nightmare and a half. We were totally overwhelmed.”
“It looked a little bit daunting. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
The woman shrugged, her eyes tired.
“At least we managed to help people tonight. Now we can go to bed knowing that at least two hundred families will have a Christmas dinner.”
The other volunteers walked over, then, an older gentleman juggling small plastic cups with eggnog in them. He passed them out, and everyone circled together.
“To holiday cheer and goodwill toward our fellow man!” he said.
“Hear, hear,” the young woman agreed.
They clinked their plastic cups together, taking a sip. It wasn’t the best eggnog Yvonne had ever tried, but, given the circumstances, it tasted far sweeter.
“Can I get your name?” the woman asked Yvonne. “I’d like to send our compliments to the home office on your behalf. You really saved us tonight.”
Yvonne took one last sip of her eggnog, tossing the plastic cup into a nearby trashcan. Shrugging back into her coat, she approached the door.
“No need. Just keep doing the great work you’re doing. You guys are the real heroes.”
Before she could get questioned further, Yvonne slipped out the door, walking with purpose around the corner. It felt good to walk after standing and lifting up boxes for so long. Glancing up at the night sky, a few stars peeked back down at her, winking in the moonlight.
She released a breath, steam puffing out before her as she continued her walk, feeling happy. She was so busy working at the firm that she rarely had the chance to give back to others. Usually when she did, it was a company-mandated activity that Zadid had scheduled. It hardly felt as genuine as she had just moments before.
A sound echoed on the wind, catching Yvonne’s attention. Curious, she followed the sound. She stepped out into an open courtyard. Standing there on the step with a few bystanders for an audience was a choir of carolers, their voices blending in perfect harmony as they sang into the night. Yvonne stopped and listened, enjoying the songs she had heard all her life, just one time a year.
She closed her eyes and remembered how she’d felt as a child on Christmas morning, her little belly filled with excitement as she plummeted down the stairs to find a mound of presents beneath the tree. There would always be a little note from Santa thanking her for the cookies and milk, and she’d often wondered why Santa and her mother had such similar handwriting.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice an old man approach, standing next to her.
“People don’t carol enough anymore,” he mused.
She opened her eyes, turning to look at him. He stared ahead, still listening to the singers.
“No, I suppose they don’t,” Yvonne agreed, turning her head to watch along with him.
“Sometimes there is so much in the world that seems lost, but then you come
across something like this and you realize that we’ll always have little bits and pieces of who we once were. Humans will always find a way to create music and hold onto songs from long ago.”
Yvonne allowed his words to hang in the air as the choir announced their last song of the night, and then proceeded to sing a very soft, slow melody. A clear-voiced woman allowed her song to pour from her, and to her surprise, Yvonne found herself tearing up. She hastily brushed the moisture from her eyes before it could fall and expose her feelings.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispered to the man next to her, and he nodded in silence as he stayed to finish the concert.
Yvonne walked away, then, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with her. The thought of her warm bed was too appealing, and she picked up her pace as she walked the last fifteen minutes to her apartment. She turned her key in the lock, letting herself in and making a beeline for her bedroom.
Somehow, she’d managed to busy herself away from home until almost midnight, her clock informing her that it was far too late for someone to be up when they had to drive several hours between Christmas parties the next day. Ignoring that little voice in her head, Yvonne stripped down and turned on the shower, steaming water pouring from the faucet.
She allowed her body to relax, the heat beyond welcome after walking around in the cold, her muscles already aching from the labor of service she had stumbled into. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the water stream, her thoughts drifting to Zadid, as they so often did.
She wondered what he was doing in that moment. Was he asleep? That thought brought forward an image of Zadid in bed, a blanket covering only his lower half as his perfect chest rose and fell with gentle breathing. She had seen Zadid in swim trunks once or twice for some kind of silly corporate event or other. She knew exactly what he had going on.
And he certainly had it going on.
Yvonne chuckled, allowing herself to crush on him in the privacy of her own home. She had admitted her feelings to herself long ago, and had also determined that she would never act on them. There was simply too much at risk, wasn’t there?
She would have him over for a lovely Christmas dinner, where they would most likely talk business the whole time anyway, and that was the long and short of it. There was no reason to ever hope for anything more.
Sliding into a comfortable pair of pajamas, she hopped into bed, feeling clean, warm, and cozy. She wrapped her comforter around her after turning out the light, thinking about all of the fun things she could do with Zadid that in no way involved the workplace.
She wondered if there would ever come a time when she could stop dreaming, and find love in the real world. After all, it was the season of miracles.
Chapter Three
Yvonne pulled the piping hot rolls from her oven, breathing in the scent of warm bread as she set them in a travel container and placed it on the counter while she got ready. Dressing in a knee-length evergreen dress with long sleeves, she paired the dress with tall brown boots, curling her chestnut hair into perfect loops. When she gave herself one last glance in the mirror, she met her own gaze with a nod of approval.
“Not that there’s anyone to impress, but it’s nice to look one’s best,” she said to her reflection.
Her reflection had no response to that.
In the silence of her trendy city apartment, Yvonne repressed a sigh as she picked up her keys and bread from the counter and made her way to her car, a recently purchased sedan. It had been her gift to herself after the first couple of paychecks working under Zadid, who was quite generous with his salaries. Sometimes Yvonne wondered if part of her crush stemmed from the fact that he treated his workers so well.
It certainly didn’t hurt, when combined with his searing chocolate gaze and perfectly-chiseled jawline. She remembered that he would be joining her the next day, and her heart beat a little faster as she pulled out of her parking garage. She would have very little time to prepare a proper Christmas for him, but she would stay up through the night if she had to. She wanted Zadid’s first American Christmas to be beyond perfect—even if she didn’t totally know how to make it so.
Yvonne turned on the radio, finding a station that played holiday tunes as she drove along the highway out of Washington D.C. towards Maryland. As she drove, she braced herself for the trip to her mother’s house—her childhood home.
Yvonne’s parents had married immediately out of high school. They had been sweethearts, convinced that they would stay in love until the end of time. Unfortunately, after having a child, that theory was sorely tested. Add to that a bit of financial struggle, and when Yvonne had turned thirteen, she’d found herself sitting on the couch as her parents told her over and over again how their divorce wasn’t her fault.
She remembered staring up at them in disbelief, her world crumbling to the floor. While the divorce was amicable, especially compared to so many others, that day Yvonne’s life had been fractured, broken apart forever. Her father had moved two hours away and met another woman; her mom had met another man; and before she knew it, Yvonne had two completely different families, while not really wholly belonging to either one.
Instead of dwelling on it, Yvonne had opted to focus on her career, moving to D.C. as soon as she was able to get into a good college, and never really going back. Her parents often visited her in the big city as an excuse to get away from the craziness at home, and Yvonne welcomed their company. It was still always separate, her life in perfectly-kept halves.
It had been over a decade since she had last felt whole.
Turning up the radio, Yvonne began to sing loudly, drowning out her thoughts with cheerful music about jingle bells and reindeer, skipping over the sadder ones about being home for Christmas.
She wound through the familiar neighborhoods of her past, the neighbors still loading their front lawns with blown-up snowmen and twinkle-light reindeer. In the light of day, they were far less impressive than when the stars came out, and Yvonne found herself wishing she had opted to go later, if only to catch the stunning light show her mother’s neighbors put on every year.
Pulling into her old driveway, Yvonne turned off the engine just as a song about Santa Claus was ending. She grabbed her purse and her bread, her breath puffing out in a white cloud before her as she half-jogged to the front door and finagled around to turn the knob. After a few moments of fruitless effort, she finally pressed her arm against the doorbell, the sound echoing across the house as a chorus of dog barks sounded behind the door.
The sound of running feet approached, and a twelve-year-old blond girl pulled open the door with a big smile.
“Yvonne!” she cried.
“Hey, Mya,” Yvonne breathed, wrapping her arms around her half-sister. “Can you take this before I fall over?”
As she spoke, two small Yorkshire terriers circled around her ankles, yipping excitedly as they jumped up against her boots, their tiny paws barely pressing against her. Mya took the bread and ran back toward the kitchen, which smelled of cooked meats and a variety of side dishes.
“Mom, Yvonne’s here!” Mya called out.
Another girl came running down the stairs, identical to the first.
“Hi, Megan,” Yvonne said.
The girl looked up and gave her a shy smile.
“Hi, Yvonne.”
“How you doing?”
The girl shrugged a shoulder before heading toward the kitchen. Yvonne walked in after her, finding her mother wearing a flour-covered apron as she rolled out a sheet of fresh cookie dough. When Yvonne walked in, her mother smiled warmly at her.
“Just in time to get the cookies cut for decorating later. Come on in, sweetheart. The cutouts are over there.”
Mya dashed over, grabbing a large chunk of cookie dough and plopping it into her mouth before sprinting away.
“Mya! We can’t decorate cookies if you eat all of the dough! Megan, talk some sense into your sister.”
“That’s hard to do wh
en she doesn’t have any,” Megan said, curling up on a kitchen chair and pulling out a book.
Yvonne’s mother rolled her eyes.
“Megan has decided to become a moody teenager this morning. Give her an hour or so and we’ll get her back to her old self again.”
Yvonne glanced back at her half-sister, who peeked up over her book self-consciously before ducking her head back under. Biting back a grin, Yvonne sat at the kitchen island where her mother, Debbie, had laid out the dough, grabbing a candy cane cutout and making cookies, placing the shaped dough on cookie sheets with her mother.
“I’ll never be too old for this,” Yvonne said.
“Well, you can still do it like an adult,” Debbie replied, popping open a bottle of white wine she pulled from the fridge and pouring her a glass.
Yvonne nodded appreciatively, enjoying the crisp flavor of the wine as she and her mother continued their old tradition of making sugar cookies to frost. After they filled two sheets, Debbie placed them in the heated oven, brushing the flour and dough off her hands on a hand towel.
She winked at Yvonne before speaking loudly.
“I suppose now is the time to open the Christmas Eve presents. It’s a shame Megan is so moody; I would have liked to give her one.”
Slamming her book on the table, Megan stared with wide eyes at her mother.
“You would seriously deny me a present just because of my mood?”
“I don’t know, can you earn one by showing me a little Christmas cheer?”
Megan’s lip twisted up in a reluctant smile.
“Almost there…” Debbie goaded, stepping over and wrapping her daughter in a hug.
Just then, Mya walked in.
“You’re hugging her? No fair! I’m the favorite!”
She bolted over and the two girls began to giggle as they fought over who was the real favorite twin, their mother smiling warmly down at them, insisting that they were both her favorites. She glanced up at Yvonne, realizing her faux pas.