Christmas Eve Love Story

Twenty-Six

Annie hurried down the sidewalk, dodging the icy spots and hanging on to her bulging grocery bags. The whole fate of Christmas rests with me. Awesome. Kira can’t get sacked, she needs to get promoted, and Braden has to spend the day with his mom. My sweet neighbors all deserve a happy Christmas, or as happy a one as possible in the face of the giant storm. Plus, I can’t lose my job and wind up penniless, homeless—and kitty-less. Poor Leo.

Her heart wrenched.

No pressure.

What about Tina? OMG! During the drama of the past few days and working together with Braden to prevent her front-window fiasco, she’d totally lost track of delivering her apology to Tina. Maybe she didn’t even deserve Tina’s friendship? No, wait. Yes, she did. But she was going to need to do a bit of groveling first. Okay, a lot of groveling. Major mea culpas coming Tina’s way.

Nerves churned through her, causing a mild bout of nausea. She’d secretly felt responsible for this time loop all along, and it apparently was her fault. It had something to do with what happened that very first day when she’d had her surprise run-in with Santa. Her already bad day had taken a nosedive from there. Now, Santa had hinted that she held the key to escaping this time loop. The major issue was, she had absolutely no clue where to look. My heart? What’s that mean?

She’d put her heart into every repeat Christmas Eve so far. As soon as she’d realized she was stuck, she’d made efforts to do better. Not just at Lawson’s Finest, but on the home front, as well. At least Braden was fully aware of the situation and trying to help her, but she needed to help him too by getting this time loop to end. What she’d once seen as an opportunity to improve each day was starting to feel like an odd sort of purgatory. A suffocating state of in-betweenness that would be unbearable to endure forever.

In the grand scheme, her window at Lawson’s Finest seemed inconsequential. Maybe she’d been focusing on the wrong objective. Yes, she needed to get her display right. But there were other things she needed to get right too. She’d been nervous about taking that next step with her neighbors, crossing that thin line dividing cordial and committed. Friendly chats were easy. An invitation to a holiday meal meant welcoming them into her home—and into her heart. She could do that—reach out. The worst anybody could say was no.

***

“Harrington! Watch out!” Annie dropped her heavy grocery sacks and raced toward him, catching him around his middle just in time.

He glanced back over his shoulder. “Where on earth did you come from?” His shaky breath clouded the air, and snowflakes covered his coat lapels and hair. He steadied himself on his walker handle when she tipped it toward him. “And how do you know—?” He blinked and shook his finger. “Why, yes, of course. You’re Annie, aren’t you? The young lady who lives upstairs?”

Her heart grew full.

He remembers.

But, how much?

Annie held Harrington’s elbow and helped him toward the door. “That’s right.” She glanced at him and smiled. “I’m in apartment 3-A.” She unlocked the front door and shoved it open, and Harrington scuttled into the foyer using his walker.

“Funny thing.” He patted the breast pocket on his coat. “I found your phone number on a piece of paper.” Lines etched into his forehead. “Can’t say how I came by it.”

“I—must have given it to you before your trip.”

He glanced at the sidewalk and laughed. “Guess the suitcase gave me away.”

Eric jogged toward them. “Hey, Annie!”

Her pulse raced. He remembered her too?

This is phenomenal.

Eric pointed to her groceries and Harrington’s suitcase. “Need a hand?”

“That would be great.” She hurried down the steps to help him. Two hugely filled grocery bags on top of Harrington’s luggage was too much for one person. She picked up one grocery bag and Eric got the other. He grabbed the suitcase handle, hoisting it off the ground. Eric reached the foyer and passed Annie the other grocery bag before sliding Harrington’s suitcase across his threshold. Winds howled, blowing snow into the building, and Annie shoved shut the front door.

“Coming home for Christmas?” Eric asked the older man.

Harrington braced himself against his walker. “Yep. This is home.” He glanced into his apartment. “Thanks for bringing up my suitcase.” He studied the younger man’s face. “Have we spoken before?”

“Yes, sir. I believe so.” He held out his hand and shook Harrington’s. “Eric Park.”

Harrington squeezed Eric’s strong grip and grinned. “I must have seen you coming and going.”

Eric nodded. “Same.” The two men turned to Annie.

Eric scanned Annie’s eyes. “You and I, though.” He tugged down his stocking cap. “We must have chatted a bit.”

“We did!” Annie said. “You’re in grad school at NYU studying literature.”

“And you…?” Eric looked like he was reaching.

“I work at Lawson’s Finest,” she volunteered.

Eric’s face lit up. “Sure. You do the windows.”

Annie’s heart pounded in her throat. “Yes, that’s right.”

Eric shook his head. “I just had the weirdest feeling.”

Harrington leaned forward on his walker. “Odd, so did I.”

Eric chuckled with incredulity. “It’s almost like we’ve had this conversation before.”

Harrington squinted at Annie. “That probably sounds loopy to you.”

“Oh no, not at all.” The shopping bags grew heavy, and her arms sagged. “I’ll be doing some cooking later, and I’ll probably have an excess.”

Harrington noted the weight in her hold and joked, “Cooking for a crowd?”

“In a way”—she smiled at Harrington and Eric—“yes.”

“What you making?” Eric asked her.

“A pot of chili first, and later”—she smiled at Eric temptingly—“some cinnamon rolls.”

Eric grinned. “Those are a Christmas favorite.”

Annie shifted the groceries in her arms. “I’ll bring you some!” She stared at Harrington. “But I’m planning to bring you chili first.”

Harrington smiled. “My, my, my. You must be some kind of…angel.” He slowly turned back toward Annie. “Now that was definitely a blast of déjà vu.”

“Was it?” Annie asked, so hopeful. Whatever was happening, it had to be good.

“Yeah.” Eric slid his backpack off his shoulder. “For me too.”

They both stared at her questioningly.

Annie shrugged. “Sometimes those déjà vu feelings are not so much about the actual events, but rather the feelings they inspire.”

“All this talk about cooking is inspiring me to be hungry,” Harrington teased her.

“Me too,” Eric said, and everyone laughed.

Annie turned toward the stairs. “Then I’d better get busy.”

Eric called after her. “Can I help you carry those upstairs?”

“No thanks,” she said. “I’ve got it.”

I do have this. I do.

Annie spun back around and smiled. “The weather’s not expected to get any better. In fact, it’s predicted to get worse. And, if it does, nobody will be getting out much of anywhere tomorrow. So.” She blew out a breath, gathering her courage. “I was thinking I might ask the folks in the building to dinner.”

Harrington blinked. “Christmas dinner?” He looked inordinately pleased.

“That’s really nice of you Annie,” Eric said.

Harrington glowered at his walker. “I’m not sure how—”

“We’ll help you!” Annie leapt in.

Eric picked up on her idea immediately. “Of course we will, Annie and I.”

“Well, in that case”—Harrington grinned from ear to ear—“I’ll have to accept.”

“What can I bring?” Eric asked her.

“What have you got?”

Eric smiled. “Wine?”

Annie nodded. “Wine’s good.”

Harrington pursed his lips. “Since I’ve been away, I’m afraid I don’t… Oh, wait!” His expression brightened. “I might have a box of chocolates. The MTA sends a big one over each Christmas, and I haven’t even touched it.”

“You’re not a chocolate eater?”

Harrington set his chin. “I stay very loyal to one kind.”

This intrigued her. “Yeah? What kind?”

“Peppermint bark.” He patted his chest. “My favorite.”

Annie decided to remember that. “Your box of chocolates sounds perfect, thanks. We’ll break it out during dessert.” They said their goodbyes and she climbed up the stairs, vowing to see them again soon.

This time, when their apartment doors closed, the echoes in the hall were far from lonely. A certain happiness permeated the building. When she saw Bea tonight, she’d invite her to Christmas dinner too. She’d asked Jane and Cari over tomorrow, and leave a note for whoever lived in apartment 2-B.

Annie reached the third floor and stopped short. She hadn’t bought nearly enough groceries to feed all those folks, but maybe if Bea brought her casserole and Annie scrounged other things together… Wait. She still needed to meet Braden at Lawson’s to work on her window display. Plus, she wanted to connect with Tina.

Okay. Things were falling into place. Tonight, she’d do her cooking as planned. Then, if tomorrow was Christmas Eve all over again, she’d make it the most perfect Christmas Eve ever, and when she stopped by the store after work, she’d buy gobs of groceries. She might even pick up one of those collapsible, rolling grocery carts that they sold at the hardware store next to the grocers, so she’d be able to get it all home.

Annie shifted her grocery bags in her arms and jostled open her apartment door.

Leo sat up on his haunches and mewed.

“Hey, big boy,” she said with a happy song in her heart. “Miss me?” She quickly surveyed the living room and hall, spying no signs of kitty mischief. She hadn’t really given him a chance. Annie had learned her lesson about that toilet paper. Her name tag too. Not to mention Leo’s breakfast.

He stood and plodded toward her. “Of course you did,” Annie said. “I bet you’re also hungry.” She felt ravenous too. She couldn’t wait to make that tasty chili and sample a gooey pinch of those yummy cinnamon rolls.

She shut her apartment door behind her using one of her worn-out boots and carried her groceries into the kitchen as Leo darted ahead of her. Her little Christmas tree stood in the corner, and behind it in the shadows, her dad’s painting of the snow globe showcased a mirror image of the keepsake glinting in the dim light. Annie left her groceries in the kitchen and came back to plug in the tree. She picked up her snow globe and shook it, and baby snowflakes flitted all around inside. Believe.

Annie pressed the snow globe to her heart through her heavy winter coat, and everything in her world felt good, and right. No, she didn’t have her parents. But she had Leo, and Braden, and Harrington. Eric and Bea, and Jane. Plus, she’d soon meet Cari and whoever lived in Apartment 2-B. She was going to get promoted and not fired, and Kira would take her place as Assistant Visual Artist. She was texting Tina tomorrow, and—this time—she really meant it. And maybe—for once—her Lawson’s Finest window display would be so very perfect that no one would trash it. Veronica Lawson might even lend her praise.

Santa would say good night and merry Christmas, then he’d be off on his supposed sleigh to deliver toys to eagerly awaiting kids everywhere. Wait. Annie opened her eyes, and she stared at her snow globe. There was one last thing she could do that she hadn’t.

Of course.

Someone knocked at the door. It was Bea, a little early.

“I’m sorry to bother you.” She noted Annie’s coat. “Looks like you’ve just gotten home. But I’ve started baking for tomorrow, and just now realized I’m running low on sugar.”

Annie took Bea’s empty measuring cup. “I’m happy to loan you some. In fact”—she smiled at Bea—“what are you doing for supper?”

Bea patted down her hair clips. “What? Tonight?”

Annie nodded. “I was about to make a pot of chili, and I have a hunch I’ll have plenty.”

Leo bounded into the room, interested in the new arrival. Bea stepped into the apartment and pulled shut the door so he wouldn’t get out. “Who do we have here?” she asked, bending down to stroke the cat.

“His name’s Leo.”

“Leo?” Bea patted his head and looked up. “I feel like I’ve met this kitty before.”

“It’s possible you have.”

Bea straightened with a chuckle. “No. Don’t think so. That would mean…” She smiled at Annie’s Christmas tree. “What a sweet little tree.” She blinked. “Hang on. Didn’t you have me over for cocoa?” She gasped. “That’s right. Must have been last year. Soon after I lost my Harry.”

Annie frowned. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks, dear. I guess I was in some kind of fog, because I don’t remember too much about our talk, just that I was”—she stared around Annie’s apartment—“here, and that you were really kind.”

Annie’s shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry that we haven’t talked more.”

“I guess it has been a while,” Bea said. “But in some ways”—she turned to look at Annie—“it seems like only yesterday.”

That’s because it was.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Annie asked carefully, even though she already knew.

“I’m going to my daughter, Caroline’s, place in Queens.”

Annie nodded. “If the bad weather holds, you’re welcome to come here. I’m inviting anyone in the building who doesn’t have other plans to join me for Christmas dinner.”

“What a nice invitation. I’ll keep it in mind—in case.”

“In the meantime,” Annie said, “I’m still offering chili.”

“What are you?” Bea chuckled. “Our building’s food elf?”

Annie shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Okay,” Bea said. “But I can’t stay long. I’ve got a sweet potato casserole to bake.”

“Why don’t you work on that while I put together my chili?”

“Stellar idea.” She surveyed her bathrobe. “I’ll put on some more suitable clothing too.”

“Oh no, don’t bother!” Annie grinned. “I’ll change into my pj’s, and we can both be comfy. Maybe I’ll even make us some cocoa after, if you’d like to stay and watch a movie.”

Bea smiled softly. “You’re a very sweet girl. I know you make your mother happy. No doubt your father too.”

Annie’s heart clenched momentarily, but then her tensions eased. She smiled softly at Bea. “Yeah, hope so.” She spied her dad’s snow globe painting and sensed her parents’ presence. They were happy, wherever they were—and they were also happy with her.

Annie was happy too.