I smiled, tilted my glass, nodded my head in agreement and brightened my expression at every compliment. The truth was I was bored.
It was the first year of Emile and Robert’s annual holiday party. It was a cozy affair in a comfortable in near Cornwall. There was a fireplace, merry decorations and the room even smelled faintly of marshmallows and maplewood.
It was pleasant.
Most of the guest were Emile and Robert’s co-workers from the university, the youngest attendees had 20 years on me.
I could keep up though. I had spent years going to parties like this with my parents. I could be charming, witty and my doctorates in musical education actually didn’t fall on deaf ears.
I was polite enough with the ladies to make them wish I was the daughter they never had and flirted just enough with the men to earn a chuckle from their wives.
Still
At least my parent’s party promised secluded afterparty’s at bars or clubs with my sisters and our friends. Rich kids showing off their trust funds one bottle at a time.
The circle around me erupted into laughter and I joined in though I had no idea what had been said.
In the corner of the room my eyes gravitated towards the man standing between the two host and a gambit of other well dressed men. He was in a casually cut and tailored black suit, with just a simple white dress shirt, no tie---that was different, and bright red pocket square barely peaking out.
The same color as my dress.
In an almost detached manner he held a sleeping 5 year old girl. Her velvet red dress was wrinkled from a tantrum she threw when I wouldn’t let her taste my eggnog. The glitter inside the bulbs she pulled off the hotel’s Christmas tree was still stuck to her hands and of course her hair bow had been pulled apart minutes before I brought her down leaving her hair in untamed curls. She’d official shoved a Dean’s 8 year old grandson to the floor when he tried to kiss her and thrown at least 4 candy canes at me. Just thinking about it made me tired.
I quietly removed myself from circle of people and discreetly made my way out the back entrance and into the hallway. I set the complexly decorated cinnamon-cherry cocktail down and turned to the mirror in the hall.
I checked to make sure the curled ends of in my hair were holding up. My deep red strapless dress was an old standby and always looked good, I decided to take off the giant ruby earrings I’d been given as a Christmas gift 3 years ago.
They were to garish.
I really wanted to go up to my room and stay warm with dark hot chocolate and maybe a really trashy book.
Either way this was just never going to be the holiday I wanted.
“Ms. DeLune”
How could that voice still chill me ? I took my drink and turned to him.
“Yes, Mr. Fierro”
He was alone
“I could not help but to notice that you seemed a bit uninterested. It is not very hospitable”
“It’s just not how I planned on spending Christmas Eve.”
“What else is there ?” he asked though he was very uninterested
“Let’s ditch. Just for a few minutes”, I said eyeing the exit, “Oh, where is--
“Asleep in your room”
I rolled my eyes. Between him and Emile she probably did have a sip or two of eggnog. Maybe she would sleep through Christmas morning.
He disappeared for a few seconds and returned with our coats.
His was black, mine was white.
He offered me his arm which I took without even really thinking about it.
The air was frigid but there was a reasonably sized crowd out in the plaza celebrating. Some finishing up last minute shopping, some taking pictures in front of the majestic white Christmas tree in the center of the plaza.The shops were brightly lit and a few paces from the Christmas tree was a last minute Santa Claus laughing.
I wanted to call my family. What would I say ? What would they say ? What wouldn’t we say.
Maybe I’ll wait until next month. Then it won’t seem so. . . sentimental
I was so lost in thought I hadn’t even realized how far we were from the hotel. Or how much my feet hurt under the cobblestone.
The crowd thickened as we neared a touristy town center with upscale stores and restaurants. It was so busy and alive.“My feet .I can’t walk anymore”, I said leaning against a bench
“We’ve been missing for a half and hour We really should--”
I got up and walked towards a rack of shiny red bicycles waiting to be rented.
“Honestly, Ms. De--”
“What ?”, I said already depositing the money and releasing a bike, “You can ride a bike can’t you ? I can sit on the back.”
He gave a slight nod of defeat and gracefully settled onto the bicycle. There was a metal rear mounted seat along the back and I folded my dress into my lap and took a seat, thankful for the skin colored stockings.
“Slowly, Mr. Fierro”
“Yes, Ms. DeLune’
The air was frigid but my heels enjoyed the break. I hadn’t noticed just how beautiful and picturesque it all was with the snow lightly falling. Yet, there was a bit of melancholy in the air.
Soon the hotel came into view. I breathed and put on my charming smile. I warmed my hands by the fire in the lobby before heading back into the party. It was as if we had never left.
In a matter of seconds I picked up with another group.
Late in the evening Emile insisted I play the piano pushed in the corner of the salon. I was convinced easily and a few members of the group joined in with lyrics to the classic carols.
I was showered with compliments, including what could have been a half smile from Mr. Fierro across the room. I didn’t even know if anyone else realized we knew one another. We had arrived separately, roomed apart and I don’t think he ever spoke a word to me in the vicinity of the crowd.
The party dwindled after that. Emile, Robert and Mr. Fierro seemed quite comfortable near the fireplace in deep conversation with two elderly male history scholars. That lead to a card games of all things between Mr. Fierro, the scholar and I. When the scholar went to refill his drink I stopped trying to hide my bordeom
“Mr. Fierro”, I said, “Don’t you ever get tired of playing Solitaire”
“We are playing Black Jack, Ms. DeLune”, he said in a plain tone.
“I know”, I said as the scholar sat back down.
At some point I must have really nodded off because I was gently shaken awake. Mr. Fierro politely took my hand and helped me up. The cards in my lap fluttering to the floor.
The two scholars give him an appreciative looks as we headed out together. Emile and Robert were no where to be seen.
“Mr. Fierro”, I said as we neared the stairs, “What kind of convincing will it take for you to join me in my room.”
He studied his watch
“None at all.”
Taking his hand I lead him up to the third floor and quietly slid the key in the door. The small living room was dark against the shuttered windows. The custom decorated fir tree was blazing with light bulbs and a tray of half -eaten store bought cookies was on the table.
Sitting just inches away from the Christmas tree was Rosalie with her arms folded. She was surrounded by a chalkboard easel, a set of children’s fairytales, and two necklaces with her birthstone.
I stole a glance at the clock
It was 6am
Christmas morning
I guess Santa must have mistaken Rose for a good girl.
I let Rose open one present from me before convincing her to go back to sleep incase Santa forgot something. She humored me because she was to sensible of a child to believe in things like that.
When I came back , Mr. Fierro turned to leave.
“Mr. Fierro. Did you think you could get out of receiving your gift that easily”
“What exactly did you get for me.”
“Well”, I pushed him over to my bedroom door where a piece of festive mistletoe hung
“Well--what ?”, he questioned
“Let’s just say you have to unwrap it first”.
I actually did it. I caught him off guard.
“Well. Ms. DeLune. you’ll find that come holy days. I don’t much believe in gifts.”
“I see”, I said to fill space, “Well you still have to kiss me”