I.

As cold as autumn had seemed to Ricky, it really was nothing compared to that first winter, just as he'd been warned. And then, one morning four days before Christmas, it happened. In the bitter black of night, as he walked the block between where the taxi had left him and the brownstone apartment house, he felt the tingle of snowflakes against his cheeks. He looked up, eyes wide as he saw hundreds of them…thousands of them…swirling to the ground under the beams of the streetlamps.

Ricky had never seen snow before in his whole life. If not for the peaceful silence of the flakes as they frosted the ground, he'd have been frightened of it. He continued to walk, turning behind to see the footprints he was leaving on the sidewalk. He thought to himself that this was quite the opposite of the footprints his bare feet were used to leaving in the soft white sand of the beaches in Cuba. And yet, not so different.

When he reached the apartment house, he skipped the steps two at a time, excited to tell Lucy about the snow. He laughed to himself that if she wasn't up and waiting for him, he'd definitely wake her.

As he walked briskly through the front door and to the hallway, he smiled to see the light on in their bedroom. When he walked in, Lucy looked up quickly and laughed at the sight of him. "Oh, Ricky, is it snowing?"

Ricky blinked. "How'd you know?"

"Oh, honey," she giggled. She stood up from the bed and walked to his side, raising a hand to his damp black waves, covered in a layer of melting snowflakes. "You look like a snowman."

Ricky ran a hand through his hair and the frozen water that had gathered in it. "Oh…" He smiled.

"Well? What do you think of it?" Lucy's eyes sparkled. Snow was nothing new to her, a native New Yorker. But she knew that, like the fiery leaves of fall, this was a sight his eyes had never seen.

"It's cold. And quiet. And…very pretty," Ricky reflected.

"Come on, get out of these wet clothes," Lucy scolded him maternally. "You're going to get sick. That's one thing about the snow that's not so pretty!"

Ricky chuckled, shaking free of his damp overcoat. He went into the bathroom to change out of his tuxedo as Lucy sank back down into the blankets of their bed. She leaned over the side quickly to shove a box the rest of the way underneath, from where she'd hastily dropped it when she heard Ricky come in.

II.

It was a cold Christmas Eve in a now snow-covered New York City. Ricky had gone to meet the boys in the band before they would all separate for the holiday. Lucy took the opportunity to wrap his Christmas gift and start decorating the small evergreen tree she had bought downtown that morning. A young boy had been nice enough to carry it home for her and she paid him for his trouble. As she draped shiny silver tinsel on the branches, she wondered to herself if they had Christmas trees in Cuba. She'd find out soon enough if Ricky was surprised to see it, she thought.

When the tree was decorated with tinsel and a smattering of colorful bulbs, Lucy tucked Ricky's Christmas present underneath it, a flat rectangular box secured by a wide green ribbon. She smiled as she took a step back to admire the modestly sized tree in the corner of the room, seeming to glow brightly.

As she stood, the door opened slowly and Ricky walked in. "What do you think," Lucy asked eagerly.

Ricky looked over to the corner and gazed at the tree, smiling warmly. "It's beautiful, honey." He put an arm around her and kissed her gently.

"Did you have Christmas trees in Cuba?"

Ricky shook his head. "No, not really. I saw pictures of them in books, but we dun't have evergreen trees in Cuba." He walked over to it and reached out to touch the glistening tinsel.

Lucy walked up behind him. "You've seen a lot in the last few months!"

Ricky chuckled. "It's been a big year." As he reflected on the truth of that statement, he remembered the item in his coat pocket. "Oh! Look what the boys gave me…" He brought forth a small box and presented it to Lucy.

She lifted the lid to reveal a silver cigarette case. "Oh, Ricky, it's just lovely! What a nice thing for them to do."

He nodded. "Yeah!"

Lucy placed the box gingerly on the coffee table. "Do you want your present now, or tomorrow?"

Ricky smiled broadly. "Not yet, yours isn't ready!"

"Well, you better hurry up!" Lucy joked, as Ricky removed his overcoat and draped it over the couch.

"Dun't worry, I have it, I just have to wrap it!" Ricky laughed, turning back to the tree.

Lucy dropped a cushion on the floor and sat, tucking her legs underneath her. "We should build a fire…"

Ricky peered inside the fireplace at the logs that were sitting there, cold. Oddly, it made him think of summer in Cuba, when he and his brothers would build a large fire behind the house and roast one of the large hogs from the neighboring farm. The man who owned them would occasionally give one to his family as payment for the boys' work.

He smiled and looked at his wife. "Got any old newspaper?"

Lucy smiled up at him and rose from the floor. "Yes, I think so…"

She retreated to the kitchen while Ricky knelt in front of the fireplace, arranging the logs into a pyramid shape. When Lucy returned with two old newspapers, she again sat on the cushion and watched her husband crumple the paper into balls. He tucked them inside and underneath the logs before reaching for a book of matches on the mantle.

Ricky lit a few matches, using each one to carefully light the newspaper before throwing them, too, into the pit. Lucy was impressed when the small paper embers grew into crackling flames, engulfing the logs.

"Well! You're good at that!"

Ricky smiled broadly. "Yeah, not bad!"

Lucy inched closer to the hearth, the heat of the fire warming the room quickly. "Ricky…"

He sat on the floor next to her in front of the fireplace. "Yes?"

She moved closer to him, settling under his arm's embrace and resting her head on his shoulder. "Tell me about Christmas in Cuba."

Ricky stared into the dancing flames, remembering. "Well…always, I brought my mother to church at midnight on Christmas Eve. Then we'd come home and all of us would go to sleep except for her. She stayed up and started cooking. Tortillas and eggs and ham and coffee. When we woke up, we'd get fruits and chocolate and nuts…thins that we din't always have money to buy." His voice trailed off, remembering how much harder it was for his mother to continue to provide that Christmas after his father had died. He had a flash of thought that he didn't want Lucy to suffer such a hardship if he should die as his father had, but he pushed it out of his mind.

He turned to his wife, who was listening to him intently and staring into the fire, as well. "What is Christmas like here? I mean…I'm seein' it, but…" Ricky wasn't sure how to put into words what he wanted to know, but Lucy understood.

She smiled as she answered thoughtfully. "It's not that different! We always got tangerines and cashews on Christmas morning…and I usually got a doll or something." She paused, remembering the grand dinner that her mother and grandmother would spend a large part of the day preparing. As she grew into young womanhood, the holiday table would almost always include some well-to-do bachelor from a good family…one who had conveniently lost his own family Christmas to travel plans or some other affair. It was during one such Christmas dinner two years earlier that Lucy grew so tired of pacifying yet another dull "date" that she blurted out her plans to move to New York City on her own. That had certainly put a new tension over their fruitcake that year. She cracked a smile as she remembered her mother's face that day.

Lucy was brought back to the present when Ricky spoke again. "I want you to have big beautiful Christmases, Lucy. Maybe like the ones you had when you were a girl."

She looked at him, eyebrows raised. Sometimes it seemed that Ricky had moments of insecurity about his ability to support her in the way he perceived that she was accustomed. It had occurred to her more than once that he believed America to be such a land of opportunity that he had much to live up to, being married to an American woman. She hadn't quite figured out how to free him of that worry.

Lucy put her arms warmly around him, her lips close to his ear. "Honey, this is the happiest Christmas I've ever had." She sat back on her knees, smiling broadly. "But a mink coat under the tree would be wonderful!"

Ricky laughed. "Well, not this year…but someday."

Lucy giggled and settled back into his embrace. He pulled away from her very gently. "Give me a few minutes, I have somethin' for you."

Stretching her legs out in front of the fire, she watched him get up and start into the bedroom. "A part in the show?"

"No!" Ricky was firm, but playful as he walked down the hallway.

When he was out of sight, Lucy jumped up and withdrew the box from under the tree, straightening the ribbon as she reclaimed her place in front of the fire.

Several minutes later, Ricky reappeared from the bedroom, having changed into a comfortable robe and pajama bottoms. He was carrying a large, flat box which was circled by a shiny silver ribbon. He smiled when he spotted the box in Lucy's lap.

Lucy patted the floor next to her. "I have something for you, too," she said softly.

He sat next to her again, his eyes warm in the glow of the fire, which had seemed to become brighter in the room, growing darker as night fell.

"You first!" Lucy eagerly presented her husband with her gift and she watched intently as he took it and began to untie the ribbon.

As Ricky lifted the lid from the box, he smiled appreciatively at the treasure inside. His hands grazed over the soft, warm wool and silken threads of the beautiful sweater inside the box. "Oh, honey, it's wonderful!" He removed the sweater and watched it unfold as he held it up in front of him. He had so hated to be cold as autumn changed bitterly to winter.

"Oh, I'm so glad you like it! I want you to be warm." Lucy placed a hand on Ricky's arm and he held the sweater to his chest.

"I LOVE it, darlin'! Thank you!" He leaned close to her and kissed her sweetly, his lips lingering on hers. His kiss broke from her slowly. "I'll wear it all the time."

Ricky sat straight, folding the sweater lovingly and placing it on the couch next to him. "Open yours, sweetheart."

Lucy grinned as she excitedly tugged at the ribbon on the box he had given her. Her eyes widened when she saw the luxuriously soft satin gown which was nestled inside. Kneeling, she lifted the gown from the box and looked at the shine of the sapphire blue fabric. Ricky smiled. He knew she'd love it and he loved that color on her; it brought out those eyes which he had such adoration for.

"Oh, Ricky…" Lucy breathed. "It's just beautiful!" She jumped up and started for the bedroom. "I'm going to try it on right now!"

Ricky looked down at the box she had left and saw that the envelope he had placed under the gown was still there, unseen. He lifted it into his fingers and turned it around, waiting for her to return.

After a few minutes, Lucy walked slowly back into the room. As Ricky looked up, he drew in his breath. She looked even more beautiful than his imagination had conjured when he picked the gown. The royal blue satin was full floor length and it hugged the silhouette of his wife's gentle figure. It flowed like liquid over the swell of her breasts and hinted at the shape of the nipples at their center. The delicate straps rested on her ivory shoulders and the fabric shimmered with her movement toward him.

Lucy sat on the cushion slowly, the fire crackling in the silence as Ricky watched her.

"Well? Does it look nice on me?" Lucy's words were quiet.

Ricky broke into a smile. "'Nice' isn't the right word."

She reached up and loosened her red curls from the ribbon that held them back and they fell down against her neck.

Ricky moved closer to her and presented her with the envelope that had been in the gift box. "This is for you, too."

Lucy blinked and took the envelope slowly. "What could this be?" She lifted the flap of the envelope and withdrew the folded parchment music paper inside. She recognized it as the type that Ricky worked on.

She smiled as she scanned over the rows of musical notes and Spanish lyrics that lined the page. "A song for me?"

Ricky nodded. "I wrote this for you. Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes…" Lucy looked back at him and smiled.

He stood up and grabbed his guitar from the corner of the room. Sitting with it on the couch, he took the sheet music and looked at it briefly before setting it down. As he began to play, Lucy moved to his feet, resting her arms and her head in his lap. She closed her eyes and smiled, listening to the gentle strains of Ricky's guitar and the velvet softness of his voice as he sang.

When he had finished, she looked up at him, smiling warmly. "That was beautiful, darling. I love it very much."

Ricky moved the guitar to his side and slid down to the floor next to her. "Do you wanna know when I wrote that?"

Lucy raised her eyebrows curiously. "When?"

He looked down at his hands as his fingers drifted toward hers. "Three days after I met you."

"Ricky, that was months and months ago! Why didn't you let me hear it sooner?"

Ricky smiled and shrugged. "I dun't know. I just thought this was the right time to give it to you."

Lucy moved into his arms. "What do the words mean?"

He rested his head against hers, breathing in the clean scent of her hair. "Some of it doesn't translate well. But…" His hand glided along the satin resting on her thigh. "I wrote that I lost my heart one night in the moonlight over the city. That it got lost in a pair of blue eyes. And I wrote that I was leavin' it where I lost it because the person who found it would be with me always."

"Oh, Ricky…" Their eyes met each other and he pulled her into a deep kiss, his tongue stroking hers gently.

As the fire roared on beside them, Ricky lay his wife down and gently moved over her. His hands roamed over her body, squeezing the satin that separated him from her skin. His lips caressed her neck and she released a soft sigh as he raised the gown over her knees.

Ricky caressed Lucy's thighs and smiled, her skin every bit as smooth as the garment draped over it.

Lucy tugged his robe open and ran her fingers down his chest, biting her bottom lip as he parted her knees and positioned himself over her. As his fingers passed over her breasts through the satin fabric, her skin felt intensely hot.

Ricky's lips landed on hers again, his erection fighting the cotton of his pajama bottoms. Lucy raised her knees around him, begging him silently for relief from the fire within her.

His hand flew to the drawstring waist and freed the throbbing shaft, immediately penetrating her deeply. They moved rhythmically together, writhing on the floor.

Ricky was further aroused by the soft, breathless cries escaping from Lucy's lips. "Eres mas dulce que la fruta mas jugosa…" The heat of his words elicited a pleasured cry of climax from his wife, and he tensed as he released into her.

He collapsed beside her, their breathing ragged as they entwined themselves in each other's arms. The fire beside them began to grow quieter as it lost strength.

Several hours later, when Lucy and Ricky opened their eyes again, the light of Christmas morning was trickling into the room, the fire long extinguished.