Christmas Eve Love Story

Eight

Annie dropped her grocery bag and raced toward her building. “Harrington!”

The old man startled on the steps, grasping the railing as his walker clanked forward. She reached him in a flash, steadying him in her arms. He glanced over his shoulder.

“Where did you come from?”

“Down there.” She gestured toward the street. “Are you all right?”

He nodded, his breath clouding the chilly air. “Will be now.” He stooped forward and righted his walker. “Thanks to you.”

“I’m Annie,” she said, helping him along. “I live upstairs.”

“As in, in the Kingdom?”

She laughed, grateful that he could joke. “No. In apartment 3-A.”

“Could have fooled me,” he said. “I thought you were an angel.” Hardly. She’d nearly missed his fall. She thought she’d timed this so well. Next time she’d—

Wait. She experienced a freak-out moment.

There wasn’t going to be a next time.

Was there?

“I’ll go back and get your suitcase, or—maybe someone will come along,” she said, spotting Eric ambling down the sidewalk. He saw her and Harrington on the steps and picked up his pace, jogging toward them.

“Hey!” he called to her, pointing to the suitcase on the sidewalk and her bag of groceries. “Need help with these?”

“Sure! Thanks!”

“Just one question.” Harrington scooted in the door and turned to her. “How did you know my name?”

Oh, right. How?

Her pulse pounded.

“You must have mentioned it before.”

He dragged a hand across the top of his head, wiping off some snow. “Did I?”

Eric arrived, setting down the suitcase. Annie reached for her shopping bag, and Eric passed it to her.

“Thanks, young man,” Harrington said. He nodded at Annie. “Thanks to you both. It was such a bad trip. Dicey with the storm.”

“Oh no.” Annie worriedly scanned his eyes. “Your plane ride?”

He scratched his head. “And how did you know about that?”

Think fast. “Your suitcase! I just assumed.”

“Oh. Yes. Yes.” His face creased in a frown. “I was in Florida visiting my brother. He’s in a nursing home now, and things don’t look good.”

Annie’s heart ached for him. Losing people you loved was so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“Can I do anything?” Eric asked. “Bring your suitcase into your place?”

Harrington viewed him gratefully. “That would be very kind.”

“I’m Eric,” he said when Harrington opened his door. “Eric Park.” He had a backpack on his shoulder, and it was open partway, due to its broken zipper. Paperback books were stuffed inside it. The top one’s title was Leaves of Grass , Walt Whitman’s poetry. Melting snowflakes dampened the volume. Annie and Harrington introduced themselves as she helped Harrington over the threshold. He still seemed a little shaky from his fall.

“You in school here?” she asked Eric.

Eric nodded. “NYU. Master’s program in English.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah.” He glanced back toward the street. “Would have been nice to get home for Christmas too.”

Annie wrinkled up her nose. “The weather?”

“Cash flow.” Eric set his chin, looking down about it. “Or lack thereof.”

“Where’s home?” Harrington asked him. He nodded toward a door, and Eric took the suitcase into a bedroom.

“Los Angeles,” Eric said, returning.

Harrington whistled. “Coast to coast.”

“Yes, sir.”

Annie glanced around Harrington’s sparsely furnished apartment. The kitchen appliances were old, but they looked barely used. “Do you have something to eat tonight?” she asked Harrington. “I’m not sure how much longer the stores will be open.”

Harrington turned toward her using his walker. “I’ve got some canned spaghetti in the cupboard. Soup too.”

She nodded, thinking she should do something more, but not knowing what.

Eric shrugged. “Well, I guess I’d better get going. Merry Christmas, everyone.”

“Merry Christmas,” Harrington said. Annie left the first floor, wishing them both happy holidays. But when their apartment doors shut, lonely echoes filled the hall.

She entered her apartment, and Leo scooted away from the door, scampering back into her bedroom. Odd move. “Leo?” she called, switching on the light. “What are you up to?” She walked forward and her toe smacked a roll of toilet paper. Ugh. A toilet paper trail ran across the length of the living room. Annie set down her grocery bag and picked up the toilet paper roll, winding it up as she strolled toward the bathroom located directly in front of her. The coat closet was on the left, and her bedroom to the right. She glimpsed a swath of Leo’s tail, twitching back and forth, just over her bedroom’s threshold. “ Leo. ” She seethed with frustration. “How could you?” He glanced over his shoulder and darted under her bed.

Annie shook her head and carried the toilet paper into the bathroom, placing it on the roll holder. He’d somehow popped its spring, causing the contraption to drop down on the floor. He’d taken advantage from there. Annie closed the bathroom door from the outside and pressed lightly against the knob. The door sprang open with very little resistance. Great. She peered at the latch and tried again, but the latch wasn’t catching. Add another item for the super! The apartment rents here were likely the lowest ones on the block. There was a reason for that too.

She entered the bedroom and peered under the bed. “It’s all right, kitty.”

Leo’s eyes widened.

“I know you didn’t mean it.” Or maybe you did, you little sneak. She’d have no problems with him tomorrow. She’d be here herself to prevent any kitty mischief. Though that wasn’t as likely to occur when she was home. Leo seemed to adore having her around. “Come on, Leo,” she coaxed gently. “It’s dinnertime.”

That got his attention, and he scampered out from under the bed.

“What am I going to do with you?” Annie picked him up and hugged him. Love you and keep you, I guess .

Annie fed Leo and put her groceries away. This time, instead of a frozen TV dinner she’d bought herself a turkey breast and boxed stuffing with canned cranberry sauce, deciding to treat herself right. So what if she couldn’t eat it all, or even most of it? She’d get good leftovers out of her meal and could always freeze what was left. Now seemed like the right time to make this meager self-care gesture. After the Christmas Eve she’d had—twice now—she couldn’t wait for a bit of self-pampering at Christmas.

She hadn’t cooked much for herself since before her breakup with Roy, and—even when she’d been with him—they’d mostly ordered takeout because he’d been critical of her cooking.

Roy set down his fork and frowned. “What’s this supposed to be?” He had light-brown hair and eyes with a permanent three-day beard. He worked selling suits at an upscale men’s shop and had no shortage of pricey clothes in his closet. That’s one of the things that had attracted her to him, initially. He’d dressed well and taken her on fancy dates, then the day-to-day had kicked in.

“It’s an Italian sausage and potato casserole.” Annie’s throat went raw and tender. “Like my Grandma Mable used to make.” She’d also added frozen peas and butter, and slow-cooked it until everything was savory and golden brown. It was a low-cost dish, and Annie was on a much stricter budget than Roy. Before Tina had moved in with Lloyd, she and Annie had shared an apartment. The rent was a lot cheaper here but still steep for Annie to handle solo. She’d planned to get a roommate to help make ends meet, but Roy had talked her out of it. He didn’t want strangers around when he was over. He wanted her all to himself.

He slid his plate across the table, landing it in front of her. “Babe, you know I can’t do a ton of carbs.” He sounded exasperated, even though he’d merely said he was cutting back and not eliminating carbs entirely. He was trim enough as it was.

“Fine,” she said mildly. “I’ll fix us some eggs.” She stood to clear their plates, no longer hungry.

Suddenly, Roy changed his tune. “Hey, come here.” He was like a weather vane these days, pivoting in this—and that—direction. Annie was weary of never knowing which way the wind would blow. And yet, having someone was better than having no one at all. She was still unsettled by her wine date with Tina, and she hadn’t heard from her since.

She walked toward him, holding their loaded plates.

He pouted artificially. “I apologize, really, I do. I know you loved your Grandma Mable”—hurt welled in her heart—“and I’m sure it’s good, just not for me. Tell you what.” He slid his arm around her waist. “We’ll order takeout. All right?” He peered up at her and said soothingly, “You can get lo mien, and I’ll order sushi.”

Lo mien wasn’t her favorite, but she couldn’t say so. He gave her that soft smile that always reeled her back in, like a fish on a line.

“I’ll even buy.” He pulled her closer. “What do you say?”

“Yeah, uh-huh. Good.” She’d been scared to mention Tina’s allegation to Roy. What if he blew up and got mad at her? Or worse—what if she hurt his feelings with an unfounded accusation? Still, she’d sleep better if she knew.

She set their plates on the counter and ventured casually, “I saw Tina the other day.”

“Did you?” She turned to see his face had tightened. “When?”

“Wednesday. We went for a drink after work.” He’d been working late that night, closing shop.

“Funny you didn’t mention it.”

“I, um.” Annie tucked a lock of her hair behind one ear. “It was kind of last minute.”

His eyes narrowed. “Were you hiding something from me, Annie?”

Her heart pounded. “What? No. I just. It’s funny.” She licked her lips. “Tina said she saw you out to lunch last week.”

He crossed his arms. “Yeah, so?”

Annie swallowed hard. “And that you were with someone.” Her words came out so softly, it was like she’d nearly lost her voice. “A woman.”

“What?” Roy’s eyes flashed, but then he laughed. “Oh! Eileen?”

Annie shrugged.

“We work together, Annie.” He shook his head. “She’s a colleague and a friend.”

“Funny you didn’t mention her.”

“Wait.” He wore an angry scowl. “Don’t tell me Tina suggested—?” He raked both hands through his hair and bellowed a rough laugh. “That woman’s got quite the imagination.”

Annie sucked in a breath. “So, no?”

He held open his hands. “Who are you going to believe, Annie? Tina or me?”

Annie fixed her hot cocoa, pushing thoughts of Roy aside. At least she didn’t have to deal with him any longer. That still didn’t take the sting out of being lonely, but she didn’t need a guy to be good to her, not when she was perfectly capable of doing nice things for herself. She’d started by fostering Leo. Roy had been against her owning a pet, coming up with a million and one reasons why she shouldn’t, but this was her life now, not his.

Annie was glad to have a new rom-com to distract her. The hot cocoa was a soothing balm as well. But her greatest comfort came from the loving kitty nestled up against her side. Leo made a tiny bit of mischief sometimes, but that only added to his personality. She couldn’t fault him for becoming bored when she was at work, and he was so good for her when she was home. Truthfully, they were good for each other. She petted the cat’s head, happy for his company. His low rumbling purr said he was grateful to be here too.

When her neighbor in 3-B knocked on the door, Annie was ready with her sugar container on her kitchen counter. She set her mug of hot cocoa on an end table and her laptop on the coffee table, gently nudging Leo aside and standing from her cozy spot on the sofa.

The woman held up her measuring cup. “I hate to bother you—”

“Borrow sugar? Of course.”

The woman blinked and stared down at her measuring cup. “Ah! The tip-off.”

Annie accepted the empty cup. “Not a great night for going to the store.”

“I’m hoping it won’t be too bad tomorrow.” Annie didn’t comment. Everyone in the city was talking about this Christmas storm. The woman’s face brightened. “I’m going to my daughter Caroline’s house in Queens.”

“Oh, nice.”

She grinned proudly. “Got two grandkids, a boy and a girl.”

Annie smiled. “I’m Annie, by the way. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Beatrice Holly,” she said, “but my friends all call me Bea.”

“Ms. Holly.”

She shook her head. “No, no. It’s Bea, please.”

A tender feeling settled over Annie, and she thought of her Grandma Mable. “Bea,” she said. “Please call me Annie.”

Bea laughed. “That’s what I intended.”

Annie turned to get the sugar and spun back around. “Why don’t you come inside?”

Bea entered her apartment, closing the door behind her as Annie walked to the kitchen. “What a cute little Christmas tree!” she said, admiring the decoration. Leo leapt off the sofa and gave a soft meow. “Well, lookee here.” Bea bent down and held out her hand. Leo cautiously crossed the room and sniffed her outstretched fingers. The cat butted his head against her hand, and she petted him. His purr was so loud, Annie giggled.

“Leo likes you.”

“And I like Leo.” Bea patted his back and stood. “He’s an older fella, isn’t he?” she asked softly.

Annie’s heart thudded. “Yes, eleven. How did you know?”

Bea smiled down at Leo. “I worked as a vet tech for over twenty years.”

“How nice.” She motioned for Bea to follow her into the kitchen, where she filled Bea’s measuring cup with sugar. “Did you like it?”

“Loved it.” Leo pressed himself up against Bea’s long bathrobe, and she looked at Annie. “Aww. He seems happy. I can tell he’s found a good home.”

“He has,” Annie answered. She was determined to keep him here too.

They walked back into the living room, and Bea spied Leo’s loaded Christmas stocking by the radiator. Annie had filled it before starting her movie. Bea smiled at the cat. “Looks like someone’s been a good kitty this year.”

Not exactly, but she was cutting him some slack.

Annie smiled. “How did you know it was for him?”

“I just figured.” Annie passed her the sugar, and Bea thanked her. “Caroline’s got a cat, and she has her own stocking too.”

Annie was glad not to be the only one who incessantly spoiled her pet. “What’s Caroline’s cat’s name?”

“Luna. She’s all black with a little white star right here.” She pointed to a spot below her neck.

“I’m sure your grandkids love her.”

“Oh. They do.”

“How old are they?”

“Kyle is six and Gina’s nine. Kevin—that’s Caroline’s husband and the kids’ dad—brought Luna home as a present to them last Christmas. The kids had been wanting a pet for a while.”

“Aww. Was she a rescue?”

Bea nodded. “She was.” She stole a peek at the door. “I guess I’d better get back to my baking. They’ll be expecting my sweet potato casserole tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Annie hated the thought of Bea getting disappointed. Her family too. But the odds of Bea making it to Queens tomorrow were poor if the bad weather continued.

Annie walked with Bea into the hallway. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you. The sugar’s great.”

“Hope you have a very merry Christmas tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Annie. You too.”

When she disappeared into her apartment, Annie recalled seeing an older man who lived there with her. Now that she thought on it, she hadn’t seen him in a while. She hoped nothing bad had happened to him, but it was impossible to know, unless Bea said something about him later. Annie could ask, but she didn’t want to intrude.

Naturally, her neighbors all lived their separate lives, but she’d never considered that very much until now. Each unit in her building represented its own little world, sort of like her uniquely designed windows. But here, you couldn’t see through to what was going on inside. Everybody kept to themselves, like Annie.

She picked up Leo and cradled him in her arms. “How did you like Ms. Bea? Pretty nice lady, hmm?” She rubbed him under his chin, and he purred. “Yeah, I think so too.” Her other neighbors seemed nice as well. Harrington and Eric. Jane. She’d never seen whoever lived in the other apartment on the second floor. “You know what I think?” she asked Leo. “I think this has been an okay Christmas Eve.”

Leo blinked and purred louder. He obviously agreed.

Despite the bad news from Patrice and those kids running amok through the store, the day had had its bright spots. One of the brightest spots had been spending time with Braden. She hadn’t minded going through that twice. Whatever had caused this weird time glitch, she had those memories to hang on to—even if she never ran into him at Lawson’s again. Although she hoped she would.

She continued her conversation with Leo, swaying him gently. “I also think tomorrow’s Christmas, and one big boy I know needs to go to beddy-bye. Otherwise”—she giggled—“Santa will never come!”

Annie set Leo on the floor, and he padded away on heavy footfalls, obediently heading for the bedroom while she deposited her empty hot cocoa mug in the kitchen sink. When she reached the bedroom, he was up on the bed and had tucked himself into a curl. She had him very well trained, and she was tired too. She checked her phone making sure the alarm was turned off and walked to her window and peeked through the blinds.

Winds howled and snow poured into the alley beside her building. Nearly a foot of snow piled up on the fire escape in the blustery night, and more kept cascading down. If this continued, no one would be going anywhere tomorrow. Including her.