Winter Wishes of the Heart

by Ashley Uzzell

  Winter Wishes

  of the Heart

  by

  Ashley Uzzell

  Winter Wishes of the Heart

  Copyright © 2017 Ashley Uzzell

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Round Table Chant

  David’s Gift

  What We Built

  Emily’s Valentine

  About the Author

  Other Works by Ashley Uzzell

  Author Links

  Round Table Chant

  Herbie didn’t want to go. Charlene was a great friend, sure, but he told her again and again that he wasn’t up for it. And as usual, she waved it off. Told him it was no big deal. Made him feel small and broken.

  She didn’t mean to do it, he knew. It was just how she was raised, how most people were raised. If they couldn’t see a problem, then there was no problem.

  A week before Thanksgiving meant that traffic wasn’t horrendous just yet, not this side of town. It would be a nightmare in just a few days, but for now, the drive over was calm and uneventful. At least it didn’t snow here like it did back home. His parents were already dealing with struggling to drive in a few inches of snow while he hadn’t seen a single snowflake yet and most likely wouldn’t until February. Herbie jammed to a few country songs as he drove, letting his mind relax and enjoy the music. It wasn’t until he arrived that he started to worry.

  He jogged up the last few steps of Charlene’s apartment complex, trying to keep his mind on other things. The cats would need to be fed when he got home since he had forgotten before he left. It was about time to change their litter out so he would need to head to the store tomorrow to pick up the litter. And milk, he was almost out of milk. And then he ran out of things to think about besides where he was because the door opened before he even had a chance to knock.

  “Herbie? Hey, sweetie, come on in!” Charlene already reeked of alcohol. Her hair was up in a messy bun and her too-large top hung off her shoulders in an enticing way. If he thought of her as anything other than a friend, he might have peeked at her chest, but he felt weird even thinking about it.

  “Hey, I made it.”

  “Of course you did. I knew you would. Let me introduce you to a few people.” The brunette swayed down the short hall and made the left turn into her living room area. Herbie was removing his jacket, the heat inside this tiny place already making him sweat, but once he followed her in, he paused. There were at least twenty people in her apartment. He only knew about three of them, including Charlene. Ah, crap.

  Already, he could feel his pores opening up like when his body was preparing to puke. His stomach hadn’t caught on yet and that was lucky because Charlene was grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him closer. Closer. To all the people.

  “Hey, Michael! This is Herbie. You remember, I was telling you about him? He’s super awesome at computers and stuff...”

  Herbie tried to nod politely, but he couldn’t stay focused. Techno music pumped through the surround sound speakers, adding to the noise of people chatting and laughing. Everyone was drinking though it was obvious that most of the people here were underage. Parties like this were really not his thing. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, his cheeks already starting to flame. People nodded and waved hello to him, but he could only give a grimace of a smile in return. As he was dragged deeper and deeper amongst the swarm of bodies in the tight space, he felt like a sardine. No, worse. He felt like he was being squeezed into some too-small tube, like a grape being sucked into a straw. He had to pull his hand that wasn’t gripping his jacket out of his pants pocket, his usual spot for his hands, because they were starting to shake too hard.

  No. Nope. He couldn’t do it. He was about two seconds away from a full-blown anxiety attack. He mumbled something unintelligible to Charlene, caught the eye of another woman he recognized, Mary, and made a beeline to the patio deck.

  The stupid door was one of those heavy sliding glass ones and he fumbled with it for a few seconds before he finally got it open, his breathing labored and loud by now. Finally outside, he took two deep breaths of cold air before sliding the door back closed behind him.

  No one needed to see this.

  The tears came. The shakes calmed a little as his lungs sucked in air. But his mind was a wreck. He was suddenly taken back to every other time he had suffered an attack in public. His brain may love to forget birthdays, his grandparent’s faces, and every other important thing in his life, but somehow it never forgot an attack. Never.

  There were a few instances that were particularly memorable. Like the time when he worked at that vet clinic, taking care of the dogs. He stepped outside, trying to have peace and quiet while his body had a meltdown - only his supervisor stepped out for a smoke a minute later and caught him mid freak-out.

  The time before that when he was exercising with a friend at a gym. He wasn’t sure what triggered it, but he was suddenly on his back on a mat, trying to get control.

  The time before that in high school. The time before that at a middle school baseball game.

  As the tears poured down his face, he leaned over the metal railing, noticing the chipped paint and rusted spots. This was a bad one. It might take some time. He needed to do the thing.

  A few years ago, he had heard that if you counted five things around you, if you could get your mind to focus on those things, it would help you. Herbie hadn’t believed it at the time, but the next time he had an attack, he tried it and lo and behold, it did kind of help. Being the poet he was, his mind had come up with a rhyme; a sort of sing-song poem that he chanted over and over to himself until it passed. The Round Table chant. He had made it up while in his mother’s house, sitting at her kitchen table after a particularly bad Thanksgiving episode. The holidays were always hell for anxiety.

  A slight breeze whipped up around him, his fevered body not even registering the chill in it, as he mumbled the words to himself.

  “The table is round. The door a rectangle.

  The corners of the window have right angles.

  All is well, all is right.

  Just keep your face to the light.”

  At this point, he usually lifted his head towards a window or a light fixture, closing his eyes to let the warmth of the light wash over his face. The sun was long gone and the outside light wasn’t on, so he turned his face towards the streetlamp nearby. Herbie was repeating it for the third time, his body finally beginning to calm, when he heard the door open behind him. He froze.

  “Are you okay?”

  He recognized the voice but couldn’t put a face to it. Before he could even try, the shame washed over him. The humiliation. The old feelings of inadequacy were so familiar and so hated that he almost thought the episode would start anew. But the person stepped up beside him and laid a light hand on his arm. Herbie wiped his tear-streaked face on his other shoulder before turning his head.

  It was Mary. He had only met her a few times, and usually with Charlene, but she had come across as a nice, level-headed woman. Where Charlene was loud and boisterous, Mary seemed more reserved. Charlene had dark hair and Mary’s was a golden blonde. He remembered wondering how the two had become good friends, but guessed that maybe they balanced each other out. They certainly got along well, from what he had seen.

  “Hey, do you need me to take you home?” Her voice sounded genuinely concerned and though it was pretty dark, he could see the crease in her brow. She was worried about him. It only served to make his gut twist tighter with shame.

  “No, I’m not drunk or anything. I just, umm, have these at
tacks sometimes, especially in crowds. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.” The lie came out so easily these days. And why not when he had repeated it so many times to baffled, and sometimes disgusted, onlookers?

  But Mary didn’t look convinced. “Come sit down, that could help.” She practically dragged him over to a wrought iron chair near the door. It felt warm through his thin pants, the heat from the afternoon sun still lingering in the metal. He sat and stared down at his hands. Why didn’t she leave? Why was she just standing there? Was she staring at him? He was afraid to look up and find out. He no doubt looked a mess. Like a big, crying baby.

  She gently pried his jacket from his hand. Herbie was gripping it so hard, his knuckles ached, but he let go when she took it. She draped it over his shoulders and it reminded him of something a guy would do for a girl he liked. The hammer of shame beat louder.

  “Listen, it’s okay, you know.” Mary squatted down before him, her skinny knees popping as she shifted her weight down. “My cousin has really bad anxiety attacks. You don’t have to pretend. I get it.”

  Yeah, right. People who didn’t have them could never “get it.” But Herbie couldn’t be angry with Mary. She was trying to be nice and that was better than the way most people reacted to his problem. At least she wasn’t judging him.

  “It’s pretty embarrassing. I mean, I just got here. I didn’t want to come, but Charlene...”

  “Yeah, she can be quite convincing. As in, she doesn’t give you a choice.”

  He nodded his agreement. “She knows about them. My attacks. She just thinks it’s all in my head.” Herbie couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into his voice.

  Mary tilted her chin until she caught his eye. Then hers crinkled as she smiled. “Well, sure. But just because it’s in your head doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”

  Herbie’s heart caught in his throat and his hands finally finished their slight tremors. His attack was over and Mary’s few words had helped him through the tail-end of it. Then she was laughing and standing up.

  “Oh, wow, did I just quote J. K. Rowling?”

  Herbie grinned, his eyes following her. “I think you did.”

  “Uh oh, you’re a Harry Potter fan? Oh, looks like we need to hang out more often.” She stood there in the shadow of the apartment wall, holding her hand out to him. Herbie couldn’t believe his luck. Not only was she totally cool about his attacks, but she still wanted to spend time with him and get to know him better. The relief that came with that knowledge was immense. He reached over and placed his hand in hers. Her slight tug and his own push had him on his feet.

  “Seriously, I can take you home if you’d like. This crowd is a little too intoxicated for my taste. I was looking for some interesting conversations, not dudes yelling ‘Lift your shirt and show me tha goods!’” Mary twisted her mouth and did a bad redneck impersonation, and Herbie couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “Maybe we can just go for a walk around the block?” He suggested, his stomach flopping for completely different reasons now. Up close, Mary smelled like vanilla yogurt and he liked it. It brought a smile to his face.

  “Yeah, that sounds great. We’ll just zip through the apartment really quick. Maybe you can keep your mind on something else so the crowd doesn’t bother you? I have to grab my purse and I’ll meet you at the door in two seconds.”

  “Okay, that sounds great,” Herbie repeated her words. He couldn’t take his eyes off her lips. Why hadn’t he noticed before what a perfect shape they were?

  He followed her inside, the heat from the numerous bodies instantly washing over them. This time, he didn’t think he would have to do his Round Table chant to get through the crowd. As he watched the swish of Mary’s ponytail and nodded as she grinned back at him, he thought maybe he had a pretty good distraction.

  David’s Gift

  David smoothed his shirt and patted his unruly hair. Clutching his gift in one hand, his palms already sweating from nerves, he inhaled deeply and stepped into the classroom. Today was the day.

  Mindy stood by the opposite wall, near the bookshelf of the teacher’s used paperbacks. It was where David usually hung out himself. The smell of old books was enticing to him. One of the few students who actually borrowed Mrs. Ringley’s books, the boy knew exactly which titles Mindy was lazily trailing her fingers over. He hoped she would pick one. She liked to read, too, but she wasn’t very open about the fact. Being a bookworm wasn’t “cool” in their class.

  Heart fluttering, David moved closer, waving his free hand at his few buddies lounging around chatting, waiting for the teacher to show. Despite his shy nature, he had many friends, but his two closest buddies were in his class this year. Lucky.

  He was just a few steps away from her now. This was it. Glancing down at the candy cane in his hand to ensure that the red satin bow hadn’t come undone, David swallowed hard and went over what he would say for the twentieth time. The worst part was, even in his head, he was stuttering as he confessed his feelings.

  Mindy was so pretty and so very kind to everyone. Her chocolate brown hair was shiny and perfectly curled. Her green eyes had lovely gold flecks near the pupils. She was gorgeous and smart. She was the girl who shared her lunch with people and put up posters for various charity events around school. The one who was everyone’s friend and no one’s enemy. The girl David couldn’t stop thinking about. There was something special about the way her lips quirked when she smiled. He often found his gaze lingering on her mouth for far too long.

  He just knew she would reject him. But he wasn’t about to turn away now. He’d had a crush on her for forever and this Christmas, this holiday season where everyone was full of love and good cheer, was when he was finally going to suck it up and put his heart on the line.

  Brushing off the front of his shirt, a nervous habit he picked up from being overweight when he was younger and constantly having food on himself, he opened his mouth to get her attention as he came up behind her. Before he could speak, his friend Ann stepped in front of him.

  “Hey, David!”

  “Oh, hey, Ann.” He smiled and smothered his disappointment. If a conversation dragged on for too long, class would start and he would miss his chance. Then he might never talk himself up to doing this again.

  “Are you ready for the holidays? We were going to try to go skiing in the mountains, but my parents said next year. This year my sister is too stressed from exams or something. Some weird excuse. Oh well! What are your plans?” She twirled her strawberry blonde locks around a finger as she spoke.

  “Oh, um, I don’t know. We don’t usually go anywhere for the holidays. My grandparents live close by, so we just hang out and spend time together at home, usually.” David nodded and tried to sidestep Ann, intending to end the conversation, but she eyed his gift and smirked, her hand flying out to his elbow.

  “Oh, who is this for?”

  He felt his cheeks flush. He hated that. “Umm, no one.” Lame.

  Ann’s eyes seemed to sparkle. “You are such a horrible liar! Oh wait, that isn’t for me, is it?” A warm smile of pleasure lit her face. “Oh, David, I’m not bringing my gifts until tomorrow. I got you a chocolate.”

  She reached for the candy cane and David knew that was it. He couldn’t possibly tell Ann no. She was a nice girl that he had known forever and he was too much of a softy. He could never be the one to ruin that smile on her freckled face. He handed her the candy and grinned sheepishly.

  “Merry Christmas, Ann.”

  “You too, David.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly.

  David blushed harder. Wait a minute, did this mean that Ann liked him? Had she had a thing for him all along? Or was she just being polite? Or did she think he had a thing for her and was just giving him a peck for pity?

  His brain swam with questions but his body froze. As Ann’s soft lips pulled away, he saw Mindy watching them. Oh, no. No way! Now Mindy would think they were a couple or something!

  As mu
ch as David hated the idea of Mindy thinking him unavailable or in love with someone else, he still didn’t have it in him to correct Ann. They had been good friends for years and now he had this mess of figuring out if she really liked him as more than a friend or not.

  Why did the holidays have to complicate things? Or maybe he was just too much of a pushover. Either way, his chance with Mindy was blown. For now.

  * * *

  The next time he decided to make his move was Valentine’s Day. He tried to save money from his job for a big box of chocolates and a teddy bear for Mindy, but he ended up having to buy a part for his car that his parents couldn’t afford to buy themselves. So when the big day rolled around, David again took a deep breath and stepped into Mrs. Ringley’s classroom. Holding just a small, cheap box of chocolates, he nevertheless held his head high.

  He’d dressed nicely today, wanting to make a good impression. Not that it really mattered. Mindy had seen him sweaty and bloody, falling flat on his face playing basketball in the gym on numerous occasions. He was athletically inclined but about a foot shorter than the other boys his age, so getting knocked down was pretty common.

  But today, oh nothing was going to stop him today! His button-up shirt was ironed, shirt tails tucked in nicely. His tennis shoes were scrubbed clean. His unruly locks were smoothed down with gel. David was ready for anything.

  His eyes scanned the classroom, looking for the tell-tale chocolate hair. No sign of her yet. His friends waved at him again today, Ann one of them. He gave her a warm smile in particular, sure to lock eyes for a moment. They’d had a good talk after Christmas break. Ann had been starting to develop feelings for him, but he informed her as gently as he could that he didn’t return them. His friend had taken it surprisingly well. She seemed distant for about a week, but soon things were back to normal. By the end of January, she was already gushing to him about her newest crush in the senior class. David was glad that they could still remain friends.