by Scott, Lisa
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Once she managed to free the gift from its mounds of curly ribbons, the sprig of mistletoe and the handmade gift tag, she unwrapped a picture frame. She squinted at the picture. A five or six-year-old Lindy sat in front of a tree with a baby in her arms. They were surrounded by presents—and people. Lots and lots of people. She looked up at Lindy. “Was this taken on that Christmas?”
Lindy grinned and nodded. “And all this time I’d been thinking about how the presents made that holiday so special. But when I got the picture out today, I realized that was the only Christmas all our friends and family were with us. And you know Dad grew more distant each year, so the big crowds weren’t welcome. But this is really the magic I’ve been remembering. Being surrounded by so much love.” She laughed to herself. “And yeah, for a five-year-old, the presents helped, too. But people are what make it special. And you’re never going to feel that if you hole up and hide every holiday, Jessica. So come out with me and Alex tonight.”
Jessica sighed. “I get your point. I do. We’ll do things differently next year. But I don’t want to intrude and ruin the holidays for anyone else this year. I’m just putting this Christmas behind me.” She handed the picture to Lindy. “Thanks for coming over. I really appreciate it.”
“Keep it. That picture is for you. You had a great Christmas, too, that year. Just look at your big smile! You just don’t remember it.” She hugged Jessica. “I love you, sis. Don’t ever forget that.”
Jessica hugged her back, long and hard. “I love you, too, Lindy,” she said in a whisper.
Once her sister left, she took the picture into her room and fell asleep with it against her chest.
***
Charlie couldn’t stop thinking about Jessica. Uncle Mort was talking to him about the football season, but he was only half paying attention. He wondered if she was home alone. Had she cheered up at all? It didn’t seem right for such a beautiful woman—inside and out—to look as sad as she did when he said goodbye to her.
And the story of all those disappointing Christmases just about killed him. He had so many wonderful Christmas memories, but she couldn’t remember even one that made her eyes sparkle.
Well, I’m going to change that, he thought, surprising himself. He wanted to make Christmas right. Truthfully, there were dozens of things he wanted to do with her, half of which didn’t even involve the bedroom. And it wasn’t just that she was beautiful. She was the first woman he’d been attracted to because of her inner qualities.
Uncle Mort snapped his fingers in front of Charlie’s face. “What are you daydreaming about? Some girl?”
Charlie grinned. “Yeah, I am. And I have to go see her right now.” But first, he needed a little help from Morgan.
***
Jessica woke to the sound of the doorbell. It was dark outside, and she wondered if Lindy and Alex were stopping by. She opened the door and was surprised to see Charlie there. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I spotted something strange in your front yard.”
She looked at him, concerned.
“Don’t worry. Not a robber. Come and look.”
She slipped on her coat and boots and followed him down her walkway. He spread his arms wide. “I saw Santa in your front yard. Look!” He pointed to a trail of hoofprints which led to a big wrapped box sat in the middle of the yard. In front of it, someone had painted “Merry Christmas, Jessica!” in the snow.
She couldn’t help it. She squealed and twirled around. Something hard and tight unfurled inside her and she leapt into Charlie’s arms without thinking.
He squeezed her back. “Hey, I didn’t leave it, Santa did. But I certainly don’t mind the hug.”
She pressed her cheek against his chest, then looked up at him. “I hate to walk over the hoofprints to get it.”
“Go ahead. The reindeer won’t mind. Not this time, anyway.”
That earned a good-natured whack on the arm. She trudged through the snow and picked up the box wrapped in shiny gold paper. “It’s really light,” she said, surprised.
“Bring it inside so you can open it.”
“Do you want to come in through the door or the window?” she teased.
Now she got a playful shove from him.
She carried the present in front of her, wondering if she’d ever opened such a big gift, imagining all the wonderful things that could be in there. She was excited—seriously excited for the first time in a long time. If it was empty, he’d get a punch in the arm for real. Inside, she kicked off her boots and slid off her coat. Charlie did the same and followed her to the couch.
Her stomach flipped. “Can I open it?”
He paused, like he was thinking. “Maybe you should wait.”
“Aww, come on!”
Laughing, he said, “Okay. Go for it.”
She ripped off the paper with enough gusto to rival Morgan. Once it was unwrapped, she surprised by what she saw: the box from the Barbie house she’d given Morgan. “You regifted the Barbie house?” Most guys probably didn’t know that kind of thing wasn’t really allowed.
He crossed his arms, grinning. “Just look inside.”
She opened the box flaps. It was empty except for a pile of big, cut-out snowflakes at the bottom. She picked one up and saw that it had writing on it in black marker. “Go to see The Nutcracker,” she read aloud. She looked at Charlie, confused.
“Read another one,” he said.
She reached in and pulled out another misshaped, handmade snowflake. “Ice skating at downtown rink. What is this?”
He sat on the couch and reached for her hand. “It’s my box of Christmas magic for you. These are all the things I want to do with you this winter. Things I hope will be magical and fun for you.”
“Really?” That tingle was rushing through her full force now.
He nodded. “And this is on one of the snowflakes, too.” He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. Then he grinned. “It’s on quite a few of the snowflakes. Kissing you in front of a fire. Kissing you on New Year’s. You’re great, Jessica. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
She clutched the snowflake against her heart. “This is the nicest present anyone has ever given me.” She could barely get the words out. “And after everything I did.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “It’s because of everything you did. You’re wonderful and thoughtful and fun. I never expected someone like you to show up in my life.”
“You probably didn’t expect the police to show up, either,” she said, pouting a bit.
“True enough, but it was a small price to pay to meet you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been a rough few years since I split from my ex-girlfriend. And you…” He looked down, then up into her eyes. “I’ve decided you were my Christmas gift, Jessica.”
She didn’t think that tingle could grow any stronger, but it did. After another, much longer kiss, he pulled back and stared at her, smiling. “Now that’s Christmas magic.”
Her smile fell and she leaned against him. “It’s Christmas magic for us, but how’s Morgan doing?” She wasn’t sure the snowman had been enough to make it up to her.
“She was fine, once she got to my mother’s. There were so many people there, she forgot all about the rest of the day’s disappointments. She even helped me make these snowflakes, being the little artist and all.”
She grinned and reached into the box for another snowflake. “Have a snowball fight?”
“We could go do that right now if you want?”
She shook her head “No, I want to find another one with a kiss on it.”
He ran his hand through her hair and brought her head to his. “Whatever you want. It’s Christmas, baby.”
She let the snowflake fall to the ground. “Not just any Christmas. My best Christmas ever.”
“Giving Up Guys”
By Lisa Scott
Lori downed the last of her mart
ini and frowned at the couple next to them at the bar, kissing and cuddling. “People in love shouldn’t be allowed to come into nightclubs.” She made no attempt to keep her voice down. “Especially hot men with girlfriends.” She rolled her eyes as the man twirled a piece of the woman’s long blond hair around his finger, totally oblivious to the three women staring them down.
Harper tipped up on her toes for a better look and nodded. “You’re right. It should be totally illegal. It’s like bringing M&Ms to a chocoholics meeting.”
Claire tilted her head, watching them. The couple was now forehead to forehead, nudging their noses. “Oh, my god. They’re canoodling.”
Harper giggled. “Canoodling. I love that word. What’s it mean?”
“It means way too much P.D.A in a bar,” Lori said.
“What’s P.D.A?” Harper asked.
“That’s P.D.A.” Claire fluttered her fake eyelashes in amazement as she watched them. “Did he just dump a handful of homemade snowflakes in front of her?”
Lori nodded. “He just picked up one that said, Kiss you on New Year’s Eve in magic marker. And he kissed her.” She pretended to stick her finger down her throat.
Claire waved the bartender over. “We need a round of lonely-tinis.”
A tall, dark-haired guy walked over and started clearing away their empties. “Sorry, not familiar with that one.”
“Of course not. I just made it up. Give us a shot of vodka, Champagne and sad, sad, Blue Curacao and then a dash of our miserable, single girl tears to top it off.” Claire swiped her hand along her forehead for affect.
The bartender fought back a grin. “We don’t usually do made up drinks, but I’ll make an exception since you lovely ladies are celebrating the new year.”
“It’s more like man-bashing than celebrating, but thanks.” She winked and turned back to her friends, still bemoaning men.
“I’m so sick of wanting that,” Lori said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the couple, “and instead, getting, ‘Hey baby, just cleaned the back seat of my truck. Wanna check it out?’”
“Or, ‘Hey, I’m looking for a bed-buddy, you in?’” Claire said. “And let me tell you, girls, I’m cleaning up the language on that one.”
Lori nodded in sympathy. “We spend way too much time worrying about guys, and if they’re going to call, and why we haven’t met any good ones. I wasted three perfectly good months with Ted. Talk-with-his-mouth-full Ted. I could’ve learned knitting in that time. Or taken CPR classes. Or had a really clean apartment. And Harper, you could’ve gotten another degree in the year you spent with Liam.”
Harper fluffed her long hair, currently dyed a pinkish-red. “You’re right. I’ve been thinking about something in the engineering field. Just for fun. I wouldn’t have to shave my legs for that.”
Claire smacked the top of the bar. “I spent all that money on fancy lingerie for Spencer—and I can’t stand the stuff. You’d think he would’ve been happy that I sleep naked. He thought it wasn’t hygienic.”
The bartender looked up from the drink he was pouring. The vodka missed the glass.
“I’m so glad your bustiers aren’t hanging out to dry in our shower anymore,” Harper said. “It was not fun being your roommate while Spencer was around. I actually caught him cleaning the bathroom once. He used all our bleach wipes.”
“At least he didn’t haul her off across the country. Look what Ryan did to Ginny,” Lori said. “Dragged her down to Florida. We should be the four musketeers out here tonight.” She sighed and adjusted the strap on her sparkly purple dress.
“I miss Ginny. But at least they’re engaged. I think she’s really happy down there now.” Claire tucked a stray piece of blond hair back in her updo.
“Well, she found one of the mythical, good ones—as rare as a five-digit prime number. That’s one out of four in our group. What are the chances the rest of us will find a great guy? I’ve haven’t seen the studies, but I’m sure the numbers aren’t good,” Harper said, wagging her finger at them.
Lori nodded. “You’re right. Most guys are irresponsible and disappointing.”
“And they’re also…” Harper flapped her hands as she searched for just the right word. “Jerks! Things haven’t changed since I was five. Boys are dumb.” She crossed her arms with a satisfied nod.
“And you’re a PhD, so you’d know,” Lori said.
The bartender dropped off their drinks and Claire passed them out to the girls. She raised hers to the ceiling. “That’s it, ladies. We’re giving up guys. That’s our New Year’s resolution.”
Harper froze, wide-eyed. “Giving them up?” She gulped. “Like, cold turkey?”
“Not even a quick hookup?” Claire looked like someone was taking away her coffee for a year. “What if Johnny Depp shows up in town?”
Lori sighed. “Not forever, but for a while. We’re better off without them.”
Claire set her drink down. “Wait. Last year you resolved to gain weight so that you’d actually lose it—”
“Since resolutions never work,” Harper finished. “Hey, didn’t you end up losing six pounds? So you were right…” She twisted her lips and narrowed one eye. “Does this mean we’re giving up guys so that we’ll actually meet them?” She tilted her head as if the weight of it was too much. If it wasn’t a math problem, Harper sometimes had a hard time figuring it out.
Lori waved away the idea. “No, we’re taking a break from men. If you had a sprained ankle, you wouldn’t go running on it. Well, we’ve got sprained hearts. So we’re going to focus on other things we should be doing instead of worrying about men.”
“Like cleaning your apartment?” Harper asked.
“No, fun stuff. Stuff we’ve always wanted to do, but haven’t had time to do because of boyfriends and dating,” Claire said.
“Like thinning out my closet,” Harper said, pouting. “I have way too many camisoles.”
Lori sighed. “No, like classes or hobbies.”
“What are you going to do?” Claire asked.
Lori looked up at the ceiling, thinking. She snapped her fingers. “I’m going to take an upholstery class.”
Claire laughed. “Oooh, you wild thing,” she shrieked over the music.
“Hey, it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve got several old pieces of gorgeous furniture from my grandma, and I’m sure there will be no hot men in class to distract me. And what about you, Claire?”
“Tough to beat furniture stripping. Maybe I’ll take a stripping class, too—the-take-off-your-clothes kind, not just old velvet from some chair.”
Harper whacked Claire. “You’ll be meeting men for sure if you do that.”
Claire fixed her gaze on Harper. “Well, what about you?”
Harper tipped up her chin. “I’ll take a class, too.”
Lori laughed. “You take classes all the time. Ever since you were in Montessori at age three. Try something new.”
“I’m going to take a belly dancing class. Men don’t belly dance, so I’ll be perfectly safe. And it’ll be a blast.” She shimmied her hips and waved her hands over her head for an impromptu preview.
Claire gave her an amused look. “You look like a dying snake. You could use the help.”
Harper pouted and flopped back on her stool. “What about you? How about pole vaulting instead of pole dancing?”
Claire made a face.
“What have you always wanted to do?” Lori asked.
Claire crossed her arms and sighed. “Scuba diving?”
“That would be fun,” Lori said.
“The community college offers scuba diving lessons all the time.” Harper clapped and Claire shrugged in agreement.
“Looks like we have a plan, ladies.” Lori raised her glass in the air again. “To giving up guys!”
“Hear, hear!” said Harper and Claire.
They downed their drinks and Lori flagged down the bartender again.
“Another round of lonely-tinis
?” he asked.
She looked at him like he was crazy. “No. We need Champagne now, to celebrate being single,” Lori said.
“We’re giving up guys!” Claire informed him.
“Champagne with a cherry, since we won’t be popping ours anytime soon!” Harper said.
Claire dropped her head in her hands. “You did that a long time ago, honey.”
Harper shrugged, confused. “But we’re giving up guys!”
Lori patted her on the back. “That’s right, honey, we are.”
“But weren’t the lonely-tinis because you’re sad to be single?” the bartender asked.
“Blame it on a mood swing, but we’re happy to be single, now, so bring out the bubbly!” Claire demanded.
The bartender sighed and shrugged, and walked over to grab a bottle of champagne. “Not a bad idea. I think I’ll give up women for a while,” he mumbled to himself.
After he dropped off their drinks, the ladies raised another toast, but they were distracted by the couple next to them—now making out.
“Get a room!” Lori called.
The couple looked their way, giggled, and hurried toward the exit.
“Yay! No guys. I can’t wait!” Harper said.
Claire cleared her throat. “How long are we doing this for?”
“At least a month. You know, really get guys out of our systems. How about we resolve to stay single until Valentine’s Day? We’ll meet out on February 14th and talk about how much fun we’ve been having. Deal?”
“Deal,” Harper and Claire said together, clinking their glasses with Lori.
***
When Lori woke up after lunch the next day, she winced, vowing never to drink lonely-tinis again. She hopped on the internet and found a few upholstery classes starting in January. There were several, and she chose the one closest to her at the local high school. She printed out the supply list, excited for the new adventure that started later that week. “Six weeks with out guys,” she said to her dog, Buster. “Except for you, of course.” She rubbed his head and he rolled over onto his belly. “If all guys were this loveable, I wouldn’t be doing this.”
That Thursday night, she changed into old sweatpants and a flannel shirt, and loaded Grandma Miller’s claw-foot chair into her backseat. She brought along the fabric she’d selected and her tools and supplies. It was turning into an expensive little venture, but she was excited for the challenge; something just for her that had nothing to do with men. The class was being held in the cafeteria, so she made two trips carrying in her things, pleased to see mostly women assembled in the room, along with two older men.