Christmas Eve Love Story

Three

Annie approached her building through the driving snow, taking care on the slick sidewalk in her snow boots. An older man clambered up the steps. He grasped on to a walker with one hand in front of him and tugged at a large suitcase on the step below. She’d seen him once or twice, she thought. He lived in a bottom unit in her building.

He teetered on a step. Oh no! She hurried toward him. “Sir! Wait!”

His foot slipped, and he jerked his hand toward the railing, letting go of his walker. It clanked against the steps in front of him while his suitcase tumbled backward down the stairs.

Annie set down her grocery bag and raced toward the older man, scooting around the suitcase on the sidewalk. She caught him a split second before he fell.

“Oomph!” He turned in shock. “You saved me.” He was tallish but slender. His slight body quaked in her grip.

She didn’t let go. Not yet. “Are you all right?”

He nodded and picked up his walker. His hand trembled on the handle, and she helped him. “This doesn’t look safe.”

“I normally do all right, when it’s not icy out.”

Snow covered his coat and dusted his gray hair.

Annie glanced at the sidewalk. “Let’s get you inside, then I’ll grab your suitcase.”

He was too shaken to argue with her. “Thank you, young lady.”

She held him tighter by the elbow, bringing his body in close to hers.

“If you hadn’t happened by…” His shuddery breath clouded the air.

But the good thing was she had. She got him to the landing, and he pulled his keys from his coat pocket, but the key stuck in the lock. Annie reached over to help him get it open.

“I keep asking our super to fix this,” the man groused.

Annie commiserated. “Yeah, me too.”

He scooted ahead of her into the hallway using his walker, and she spun back toward the street. A young guy with a backpack motioned to the tipped-over suitcase and her groceries. “These yours?” A swath of black hair dipped out from under his forest-green stocking cap.

“The groceries, yeah. Suitcase belongs to Mr.—” She glanced at the older man.

“Harrington,” he said.

“Mr. Harrington,” she told the younger guy, who picked up the suitcase in one hand after nabbing her groceries. He deposited both in the entryway.

The older man thanked him. “First name’s Harrington. Last name’s Bryte.”

“Eric Park.” His dark-brown eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“I’m Annie Jones. I live in 3-A.” They all exchanged hellos, and Harrington unlocked his apartment door, shoving it open ahead of his walker.

“My flight almost didn’t make it in,” he said. “Runways closed down at LaGuardia.”

Annie smiled at Harrington. “Glad you made it home safely.” She helped him indoors, and Eric scooted his suitcase over the threshold.

“Me too!” Harrington turned around on halting footsteps, using his walker for support. “Thank you both for your help. Merry Christmas, all.”

“Merry Christmas,” Eric said, and so did Annie.

She climbed the stairs to her apartment, her thoughts racing. That could have been such a bad scene. She shuddered, envisioning coming home to Harrington lying on the sidewalk, maybe even unconscious. She was grateful that hadn’t happened, and that she’d arrived when she had.

So, see! The day hadn’t been a total bust. She’d been able to help in some small way, and helping had felt good. So had spending time with Braden, honestly, and allowing him to help her. There’d been something awkwardly sweet in their goodbye, or maybe she’d imagined that telling sparkle in his eyes. Part of her wanted to hope Braden was interested in her. He had suggested getting coffee, after all.

But another part of her said, Take it easy, Annie. He was only being nice . What kind of a chance would she stand with a guy like him anyway? He seemed so great and really kind. Plus he was sexy looking. It wouldn’t take much for another woman to snag him away from mundane her, especially if the lady in question was more outgoing and glamorous than she was. That included most of the females in New York City.

She entered her apartment, and Leo blinked at her from his sentinel-like post in the foyer.

“Hi, Leo.”

The big cat sat up straighter, exposing his fluffy white chest. He had large gray splotches on his back, and his gray eyes matched his tail and cute kitty ears. But wait, a small white remnant of some sort hung from his mouth. “ What have you been up to?” She stooped down to tug free the tiny piece of paper dangling from his tooth, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger. Toilet paper. “Oh, Leo, not again!”

Annie huffed and carried her grocery bag into the bathroom with Leo close on her heels. Shredded toilet paper was everywhere. He’d completely unwound the roll! “Lucky for you I bought some more,” she scolded the kitty.

He slunk back behind the doorframe, aware that she was cross with him. But she wasn’t really that mad. More like annoyed. She’d just bought him loads of kitty treats at the discount store, figuring she’d fill his stocking. “Maybe you should be getting coal and switches, instead?” she teased, thinking of her playful conversation with Braden. She knew her cat had only misbehaved because he’d been lonely. Leo wasn’t normally that destructive. He never clawed at things besides his scratchy box—thank goodness—and, well, obviously, toilet paper rolls.

“Come on.” Annie waved him along beside her into the kitchen. “Let’s feed you.” He mewed, seeming happy about that. He really was precious—when he wanted to be. She set her grocery bag on the counter and glanced down at him. “Spoiled kitty.” He’d get spoiled a little more tomorrow. He’d have her around all day.

She fed Leo his dinner and removed her damp coat, draping it over a kitchen chair. She laid her scarf, hat, and mittens across the radiator to dry and started putting her groceries away.

“Guess who’s coming tonight?” she asked Leo.

The cat looked up, licking his chops.

She giggled at his cuteness. “Santa! That’s who!”

She dug into her grocery bag, extracting a box of candy canes and setting it on the counter. They’d caught her eye at the store, and although she hadn’t bought any in years, she’d decided this Christmas Eve owed her . She’d also bought a frozen turkey dinner for her Christmas meal tomorrow and a few other essentials, in case she got snowed in for a while.

Annie opened the box of candy canes and carried it to the small table in the living room, plugging in the lights on her miniature Christmas tree. She set down her candy cane box to admire the snow globe that sat beneath her tree. Though she didn’t decorate her apartment much, she got this special memento out every year. She picked up the snow globe and shook it. Tiny snowflakes skittered everywhere, dancing and twirling around Santa’s sleigh and his reindeer team, and showering over the candy-cane-striped North Pole. Annie sighed at the sign in the snowy white yard: Believe .

Yeah, she’d done that more than once, but her belief had been shattered to bits like those Christmas tree balls crashing to the floor at Lawson’s. A distant memory swirled around her, coming into focus.

Annie’s mom pulled a wrapped candy cane off the tree. It was eleven days after Christmas, and they still hadn’t taken down their holiday decorations. Her mom loved this time of year and always dragged her heels when it came to putting things away.

“This is for Annie’s cocoa later.” She handed the wrapped candy cane to their teenage sitter, Debbie, and her short brown curls bounced. Annie’d gotten her mom’s hair, but not her dimples. “Would you like one too?”

Debbie shrugged breezily. “Sure.” Debbie was so cool. Annie wanted to be her one day. The ponytailed teenager took the candy canes from Annie’s mom and smiled at Annie. “Ooh, chocolate and mint. That sounds delicious. Maybe we can have some while we play cards?” Annie loved playing cards with Debbie. She looked up to the older girl, who was a neighbor in their modest, middle-class neighborhood. Debbie was smart and going to college, Annie’s parents said.

Annie bounced on her heels. “Can we play rummy?”

Debbie shot her a thumbs up. “You got it.”

Annie’s mom gathered her purse and car keys off the table by the front door. She was all bundled up in her fancy church coat and had makeup on. Annie’s dad looked nice too. Aunt Susan and Uncle Bob stood with them, ready for their outing in the city. The four of them were headed to Manhattan for a Broadway show. The tickets were an early birthday gift from Annie’s mom to her sister, Susan.

“Why don’t you let me drive?” her dad offered.

“Thanks, Cash.” Annie’s mom shook her head. “Tonight’s my treat. I don’t mind it.”

“But it’s snowing, Nancy.”

“I’m good with the snow,” Uncle Bob intervened. “We can take my SUV.”

“It’s not that big a snow.” Aunt Susan laughed. “Only flurries.” A mild discussion broke out among the adults, and Annie thought of the flurries in her special snow globe. She tugged on Debbie’s sweatshirt sleeve. “Want to see what I got for Christmas? It’s something really cool.”

“Sure.” Debbie held out her hand so Annie could lead her, and Annie excitedly tugged her back to her bedroom. She carefully lifted her snow globe off her dresser by her mirror and shook it, handing it to Debbie. “See?”

Debbie acted suitably impressed. “How awesome is that? It’s Santa and his reindeer! All eight of them. And whoa, the North Pole looks like a real candy cane.” She looked up. “Who knew?”

Annie giggled, so happy to have Debbie over. She didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and she sometimes wished for an older sister like her.

“Annie! We’re leaving!” her dad said. He poked his head into her bedroom. “Oh, there you are.”

Her mom appeared behind him and smiled. “You two have fun.”

“You too,” Debbie said. “Drive safe!”

“We’ll text when we’re on our way home,” her mom said. She winked at Annie. “Behave.”

“I think the word is ‘Believe,’ Nancy,” her dad teased, retreating into the hall. “Our Annie always behaves.”

Debbie’s eyes lit on the painting hanging on Annie’s bedroom wall. “Way cool.” She stared at the snow globe, returning it to Annie. “Did your dad do that?”

“Yeah.” She heard their footsteps fading, and panic gripped her. “Wait!” she cried, shoving her snow globe back at Debbie. Debbie caught it, holding it tightly, and Annie raced into the hall. She stopped her parents in the foyer, staring up at them with sad eyes. “You didn’t say good night.” Her aunt and uncle were already outside, warming up their SUV.

“Oh, honey. We’re sorry.” Her mom stooped down to hug her. She smelled of flowery perfume, so pretty. “Good night, baby.” She kissed Annie’s cheek and held her back by her shoulders, smiling tenderly. “I love you.”

Her dad kissed the top of her head. “I love you too.”

A shock of blue awoke Annie from her slumber hours later. The lights were going around and around, blindingly bright in her dresser mirror, and casting an eerie sheen across her snow globe. Annie jumped out of bed and ran to her bedroom window, her heart pounding. She peered through the falling snow, and her heart lodged in her throat. A police car sat in her driveway.

Annie opened her bedroom door and Debbie stood in the foyer, white like she’d seen a ghost. Tears streamed down her face, and she scrubbed them back with her fists. A woman police officer glanced at Annie, and Debbie nodded. “Yeah,” she said, blubbering out the words, “that’s her.”

Tears slid down the dome of Annie’s snow globe, leaving glistening trails. Leo stared up at her with concerned eyes like, What’s the matter, Mama? Annie dried her snow globe with her shirt sleeve and set it down, wiping back her tears. “Hi, big boy.” She picked up Leo, holding him close. “It’s just you and me this year.” And we’re going to make the most of it.

She glanced at her laptop on the coffee table, knowing what would brighten her mood. She’d stream a holiday rom-com and savor a cup of hot cocoa. Maybe it wouldn’t taste as good as she remembered, but she craved it, nonetheless. She hugged Leo tighter, and he dissolved into a purring puddle of love. No one’s taking you away, she said in her heart . They’ll have to fight me first.

A few hours later, Annie snuggled down in her pj’s with her laptop, and Leo nestled beside her. Winds howled outdoors, creating loud echoes in the light well, and snow blasted against the living room windowpanes, but at least she and Leo were inside and dry. They were blessed to have heat and electricity too, and hopefully those would hold.

The closing credits rolled on her movie, and someone knocked at her door. Unusual at this time of night. Has to be someone in the building. She set her cocoa mug on an end table and the partially melted candy cane slid sideways. “Stay right here,” she warned her kitty. Leo lazily lifted his head, clearly not interested in leaving his nest in the soft sofa blankets.

Annie peered through the peephole in her door. The lady who lived across the hall stood there dressed in a long purple bathrobe. An array of metal clips pressed down her auburn locks, holding them in place. Annie had only seen her in passing a couple of times. She opened the door partway. “Yes?”

“Sorry to bother you,” the woman said, noticing Annie’s flannel pajamas. They were blue and covered with playful kitten pairs chasing skeins of yarn and tumbling over one another. “But—with the weather getting worse—I’m not sure I’ll be able to get out to the store, and it’s probably closed by now anyway.”

Annie opened the door farther, and the woman held up a clear glass measuring cup. “Would you happen to have a cup of sugar I can borrow?” Creases formed around her mouth and eyes. “I’m making a sweet potato casserole, and I hadn’t realized I’d run so low.”

“Of course,” Annie said. The woman passed her the measuring cup, and she took it, having the instinct she should invite her neighbor in, but the woman didn’t budge, standing firmly planted in the hall. “I’ll just be a second.”

The woman nodded. “I’ll wait right here.”

Annie returned a few moments later with a full cup of sugar. “Are you sure this will be enough?”

“Oh yes, fine. Thanks so much.” She bowed, and her bathrobe’s tattered hem scraped the floor. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Annie said, shutting the door.