9. Christmas

Chrissy professes her undying love for Ian. WARNING! Contains foul language!

Warning - foul language!

(Mid-December)

“Hey, Chrissy. What's up?”

“Hi, Suzee. I just called to say I'm not coming to your folks' place for Christmas this year. I have other plans.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Just... plans.”

“Oh my God! You're spending Christmas with him, aren't you?”

(Pause) “Yeah.”

“Uh-oh! You're getting serious!”

“What?! What are you talking about?”

“You're spending Christmas with him. That's serious!”

“It's not like that at all! He's all alone. I feel kind of sorry for him. Besides, we're just friends.”

“Friends with benefits?”

(Silence)

“Oh my God! You're sleeping with him?!”

“Suzee!”

“I don't blame you, honey. He's hot! Even if he is a little on the mature side.”

“That's enough, Suzee!”

“You're sleeping with him and now you're spending Christmas with him? Oh, girl, you're smitten!”

“Goodbye, Suzee.”

“Can I be your Maid of Honor?”

(Click)

Suzee was a good friend but could be a real pain sometimes. Chrissy was definitely not in love! She had seen what love could do to people and she wanted no part of it! More than once she had had to hold Suzee's hand while she cried hysterically over breaking up with one of her loser boyfriends.

She undoubtedly liked Ian. He was the nicest guy she had ever met. He accepted her as she was, and that meant a lot to her! But she wasn’t in love with him!

She still wasn’t sure why she had told him about her former drug addiction. She rarely told anyone about that. She wasn’t ashamed of it, but it was just something that others didn’t need to know. His response had completely taken her by surprise! He didn't say a word! Instead of getting all sappy or sentimental or philosophical about it, he had simply held her hand. It was a non-judgmental acceptance of her, faults and all. That little gesture had said so much!

Yes, she liked him a lot.  But she wasn't in love with him!

   

Besides, sooner or later he would turn into an a*****e! They always did!

~*~

(Christmas Eve)

"Your tree is pretty," she said quietly.  She sniffed the air.  "It's real," she added.
                                               

“Yeah, I'm a traditionalist,” he responded, “I've always had a real tree.”

"We always had a real tree, too, when I was a kid,” she said, “A lot of the tree lots give away the last of their trees on Christmas Eve to the people that can't afford them. That's how we usually got ours.”

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he just let it go.

They spent the evening relaxing and talking. At one point they were reminiscing about memorable Christmas presents. “My best Christmas present ever would be the bike I got when I was fourteen,” she told him, “It was such a nice one! Ten speeds and light weight frame with racing tires. My mom must've saved for six months to buy it for me. It felt like I was flying when I rode it! I didn't even have it for two weeks before it was stolen. I had it chained to the front porch, but some creep cut the chain and took it. I felt so bad! I know that bike really set my mom back.”

“Man! That stinks!” he said. It seemed to him that she had had a lot of hard times in her life. “Do you have any Christmas memories that are happy?” he asked her.

“Well,” she thought for a moment, “there was the Christmas I had pneumonia.”

“That's a happy memory?!”

“You don't understand,” she explained, “I didn't feel sick. I was just real tired. It was when I was twelve years old. The doctor said I had to stay in bed, so my mom put me out on the sofa next to the tree. I remember lying there and staring at it for hours. I would let my eyes go out of focus and all the colors from the lights would blend together. It was so beautiful!

“That was the year she got me a Backgammon set. It was a nice one, too! The playing pieces were made of stone and the case was leather bound. I still have it! Then she taught me how to play it. We must have played it a hundred times!”

“You really miss her, don't you,” he said.

She nodded. “She died four years ago. She had an aneurism in her heart. There was no warning at all. One minute she was fine - the next she was dead. She was only forty-two.”

“That's really too bad. I'm sorry,” he said softly. She had never talked this much about herself to him before.

She yawned. “I'm tired,” she said sleepily, “Let's go to bed.”

They got ready for bed and crawled under the covers.  They fell asleep almost immediately.

He awoke with a start to find her standing next to the bed, bending over him. “Come on, get up!” she said to him, “I want my presents!” It was barely light out.

“Good morning to you, too!” he replied sleepily. She gave a faint smile. “At least let me brush my teeth.” he said.

“Make it quick!” she ordered.

He came out of the bathroom and followed her to the living room. “I have to make coffee first,” he said.

“I already started it,” she responded.

“You're an angel!” he said as he headed for the kitchen. He came back to the living room with a cup full. She was sitting on the sofa waiting for him. She was dressed in a black t-shirt and grey warm-up pants. He sat down on the floor at her feet by the tree. He took a sip of his coffee and looked at her. She gave him an impatient look. “Okay, I'm ready,” he smiled.

She reached into her tote that she had next to her and pulled out a gift and handed it to him. “Here,” she said.

He could see by its shape that it was a bottle of some sort. After-shave maybe? He ripped off the wrapping paper and furrowed his brow. “A bottle of beer? You got me a bottle of beer?” he asked, looking at her. Her face looked completely serious, but her eyes had that sparkle that he had learned was her way of smiling sometimes. It was a gag gift.

“Hey, if you don't want it, then I'll take it back,” she said, reaching for it.

He pulled it back away from her. “Oh, no you don't,” he said with a chuckle, “It's mine!”

“Now I get one,” she said. He had never seen her in such a good mood. He reached under the tree and pulled out a small, gift-wrapped box and handed it to her. She quickly unwrapped it, reached inside, and pulled out a tiny, black, lacy thong. She gave him a caustic look and dropped the thong back in the box. “I think that present was more for you than for me,” she said acerbically.

He smiled and shrugged.

He reached under the tree and pulled out a longish, flat box. “I think you'll like this one,” he said.

She opened it and pulled out a long, woolen black scarf with an intricate, burgundy colored pattern woven into it. “I noticed yours was getting a little frayed,” he explained, “It's hand woven Peruvian alpaca wool. I got it at one of those fair trade shops downtown. It wasn't expensive at all.” He worried she might be upset if she thought he spent a lot of money on her.

“It's beautiful,” she said, examining it, “Thank you.” She reached into her tote and pulled out a tiny box with a tiny bow on it. He opened it and found a USB flash drive inside.

“What's this?” he asked.

“It's several images of your painting. While you were recovering from your surgery, I went over to your studio and took photos of it. They're in TIF, Bitmap and RAW formats and I color corrected them. They're suitable for posters and prints.”

“But... Chrissy, I was going to pay you to do that!”

She shrugged. “Merry Christmas,” she said.

“Thank you! It's a wonderful present! Getting professional shots of my paintings for reproductions usually costs me a fortune!” He pulled out one more present and handed it to her. “This one is for us to share,” he said.

She unwrapped it and discovered a box of gourmet chocolates. “I have to share these with you?!” she said with a serious face, but he saw that sparkle again. She opened the box and popped one of the chocolates into her mouth.

“You're having candy before breakfast?” he asked with mock indignation.

She stood up and took him by the hand. “Speaking of candy before breakfast,” she said, leading him toward the bedroom, “We have one more gift to share.”

~*~

They lay quietly side-by-side, staring at the ceiling. She seemed quiet and preoccupied, but more introspective than moody. “How long were you married?” she asked him.

There was a long pause before he answered. “Eighteen years.”

“Why did you split up?”

After an even longer pause, he said, “It's complicated.” Several moments later he added, “We weren't in love.”

“How long were you in love?”

“I guess we were never in love.”

“Then why did you get married?!”

“We thought we were in love,” he answered. He paused again, then asked, “Do you really want to hear about this?”

“Yeah.”

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I was a bit of a loner in high school,” he began, “I wasn't really picked on or anything. I was mostly just ignored. I was the 'weird kid' who kept to himself. Sometimes I was like the class clown. I was always saying or doing things that made the other kids laugh. The problem was, I never understood why they were laughing. I would just laugh along with them and pretend I did it on purpose. I didn't even go to the prom.

“I met Sandy after I got out of high school. God, she was pretty! She was the prettiest girl I ever dated. And she liked me, really liked me, quirks and all! Well... I got her pregnant, but we thought we were in love, so we got married. And the first couple of years were great. But then we started to grow apart. We tried to make it work. We went to counseling and stuff. But after a few more years it was apparent that we weren't meant for each other. We both wanted different things from life.

“I guess we had an unspoken agreement to stay together until Carey grew up. It wasn't that bad, really. We still did family things. We almost never fought. We didn't hate each other. We just didn't love each other.

“I know Sandy had at least two affairs... maybe more. The sad part is, by that time I didn't really care.” He suddenly propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her. “But I never cheated on her! Not once!” he said emphatically. He lay back again.

“Anyway, when Carey grew up, we split. It was amicable. Hell, we still exchange Christmas cards.

“After that I moved halfway across the country to start a new life and try to make a name for myself as an artist. That was five years ago. I guess I haven't succeeded very well at either.”

Chrissy was silent for a long time after he finished. Then she asked, “Have you ever been in love?”

His heart almost stopped when she asked! Careful, Ian, he thought, It's times like this when you always say something stupid! “Once,” he answered.

“What happened?”

There it was! The opportunity he had been looking for to tell her how he felt about her. He thought for several moments before he said, “I don't want to talk about it.”

Good answer... idiot!

She was very quiet through dinner. She didn't seem angry, but something was definitely on her mind. She acted very distant. After dinner they watched a couple of old movies on television and went to bed early.

When Ian awoke the next morning, she was already gone. She left a note that said, “Thanks for the presents and all.” He was confused as ever. She had seemed to be really enjoying the holiday with him, and then she suddenly became very distant. He wondered what had caused the change.

~*~

(December 26)

Chrissy stopped in at Ian's favorite watering hole - 'Reverend Chive's House of Jazz'. He had already taken her there twice before and introduced her to Chive, the owner, who took an immediate liking to the taciturn young woman. There were only about three couples in the place when Chrissy walked in. Chive was standing at one of the tables and chatting up the customers when he saw her and excused himself to go over and greet her.

“Hey, Tiger,” he said with his warm, baritone voice, “Where's Ian?” He was looking over her shoulder for him.

“It's just me tonight, Chive,” she answered.

“Oh? You guys didn't have a spat, did you?”

“There's nothing for us to spat about! We're just friends!” she said tersely.

“Okay, okay,” He put his hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye. “Is this a bourbon night?” he asked with one eyebrow raised.

She shook her head. “Hammerhead'll do.”

“Okay, follow me,” he said as he led her over to the bar. “Hammerhead Cream Ale,” he told the bartender, “No glass.”

Chrissy sat down on the bar stool as the bartender set the bottle in front of her. Chive sat down next to her. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“It's your place. You can do whatever you want,” she replied a little sullenly.

“Maybe, but my motto is 'The customer is always right'. If you don't want me here, just tell me to get lost.”

She shrugged. “You can stay.” She took a swig from the bottle.

He gestured to the bartender who brought him over a bottle of mineral water and a bowl of peanuts. They drank in silence for several minutes. Chive had been a barkeep long enough to know when to talk and when to just keep quiet. Chrissy finally spoke.

“Have you ever been in love, Chive?” she asked without taking her eyes off of the bottle in front of her.

He laughed. “Oh, you've come to the wrong person for advice on that!” he said, “I've been married and divorced three times!”

“I don't want advice!” she replied, “I just...” There was a long pause. Finally she continued, “How do you know if you're in love?” she asked.

Chive laughed even louder. “Oh, Tiger! If you gotta ask... you are!”

"S**t!" Make my next one a bourbon!"

~*~

Ian was just finishing washing up his dinner dishes when he heard his front door slam. That's odd, he thought, Chrissy said she wasn't coming over tonight. He walked out to the living room and met her as she came in. Her eyes were glazed and she swayed slightly as she walked up to him. She had a foul look on her face.

“You goddamn son-of-a-b***h!!” she said angrily and hit him on the arm.

“Ow! Hey! What the hell?!” he responded with surprise.

“You f*****g b*****d! I hate you!!” She stood and glared at him with her hands at her side, her fists clenched. She reeked of bourbon.

“Wha... you're drunk!”

“You and your goddamn Christmas presents, and your sad stories, and your good looks, and your great sex, and your easy-going ways, and your patience and understanding! I hate you!”

Ian was confused. Weren't those supposed to be good traits? “But... I... uh...” Then he grew thoughtful for a moment and said, “Wait… did you say great sex?”

“Ian!!”

“Okay! Forget that one. But why are you so mad at me?! What the hell did I do?!”

“You made me fall in love with you, you son-of-a-b***h! I hate you!!”

If Ian had been confused before, now he was really lost at sea. She hated him because she loved him?! Was she off her rocker or something? “But... um... wait...” He was at a complete loss for words. She looked like she might hit him again, so he said, “Isn't that a good thing?”

“NO!!” I don't want to fall in love! I've seen what it can do to people! I saw what it did to my mom and I've seen what it's done to Suzee. Even you fell in love once and don't want to talk about it because it's too painful.”

“No,” he responded, “I said I don't want to talk about it, but I never said it was because it was too painful.”

“Then why don't you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He hesitated for a moment, then decided to finally come clean. “Because it's you!” he answered.

She looked dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“You're who I fell in love with. I've been in love with you for over a month now. I was just afraid to tell you.”

He could see she was trying to process what he had just told her through the haze of alcohol. Finally she asked, “Are you trying to tell me that you're forty-five years old and you've never been in love, and now you're in love with me?”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit!”

“It's no bullshit. I'm in love with you.”

“Why?! Why are you in love with me?!”

“Believe me, I've been asking myself that same question for the past month, now.”

“No one would fall in love with a moody b***h like me!”

Ian had to suppress a smile. “Love doesn't make sense,” he shrugged, “At least that's what all the songs say.” She was staring at the floor, trying to make sense of it all when Ian decided he had had enough. He had to find out where they stood with each other once and for all! “Alright, that does it! I need to know - are we a couple or not?!”

Now she was the confused one. “I... I guess we are,” she answered hesitantly. Then she looked up and pointed a finger at him. “Just don't f**k it up!” she added angrily.

“Oh, I will. Probably more than once. You can count on it,” he smiled.

She looked down at the floor again and closed her eyes in frustration. “Oh God, I hate you.”

He chuckled and said, “I'm glad we finally figured this out.” He went to put his arms around her, but she pushed back away from him.

“No hugging!” she said, “Hugging makes me claustrophobic.”

“But... we hug when we have sex.”

“That's not hugging, that's embracing. There's a difference.”

“Oh... okay.” Geez, I thought I was the weird one, he thought. He put his hands on her shoulders and touched his forehead to hers. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah… just don't get mushy! I don't like that stuff.”

“You're not going to make this easy, are you!”

“Hey! This is who I am! Take it or leave it!”

“Can I give you a pet name?”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “Like what?”

“ 'Snookums'?”

She hit him again.

“Ow! Okay!” he laughed, “ 'Snookums' is out. How about 'Babe'?”

She thought for a moment and then said, “ 'Babe' is okay. I can handle 'Babe'.”

“ 'Babe' it is, then,” he said, then added, “I love you, Babe.”

“I hate you,” she replied. They stood like that for several seconds, foreheads touching, then she looked up at him and asked, “So, would this be considered our first fight?”

He shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Well, I'm new to this relationship stuff. Is this the part where we have make-up sex?”

He laughed. “Yeah... I guess it is.”

"Cool!" she said as she grabbed his hand and started for the bedroom, “Let's go.”

Author's Note

Sorry this chapter is a little long. This brings the story up to date with the next three chapters. Please read them if you already haven't.

Reviews

[John Lauterbach]

"More than once she had had to hold Suzee's hand" I assume this isn't a typo, but the 'had had' feels strange.

The characters are growing at a nice pace, and Chrissy still throws curveballs at me. Wouldn't have guessed she likes Christmas as much as she does. I like how she differentiates hugging and embracing - I have a friend who thinks the same way about hugs.

[Craig2591]

Yeah, I'm not a hugger either. That's probably why I gave Chrissy that quirk.

[C. L. Aemon]

I actually think this chapter is a good length. It certainly amused me, though the word babe tends to make me shudder. haha.

[Craig2591]

Yeah, 'Babe' is a bit hokey and it dates Ian, but you gotta admit it's better than 'Snookums'.

[Bella Luna]

Oh my gosh, I love Chrissy! Only she would get mad about falling in love with someone! Her reaction was just perfect! And it was so nice to see Ian finally get to admit his feelings without having to feel anxious about how she would react! Great job!

[Craig2591]

Thanks. I'm glad you like it. I like Arianna, too. They are similar in many ways... and dissimilar, too.

[Bella Luna]

Yes, I have noticed that too! :)

[Faith]

It just keeps getting better. This actually brings memories home to me, lol. They are real and this is not too long. Keeps the reader's attention all the way!

[Tina Kline]

Nicely done.

[Kaya]

In the typical way that friends know so much more than you're willing to tell them.
I think I've said it before, but all of these newer stories really bring the characters to life.
I love the complete version... She's so cute, it was the perfect reaction.