Martha sighed as she finished eating her supper. Not anything exciting; a simple readymade microwave meal. She had been living in her current house for nearly a year and she had touched her stove once. And after cleaning Veal Parmigiana off the walls, she had decided takeouts and ready meals were probably the safest way to go. She sighed again and looked out of her living room window. The streets and her neighbors' houses were decorated with flashing lights and musical Santas -- one house even had a sleigh on top of their roof. Raising an eyebrow, she picked up her plate and took it to the kitchen. Not that she was a Scrooge or anything; in fact, she had a small tree decorated in her living room and hundreds of cards adorning her walls. Putting her plate in the dishwasher, she thought of the hours she had spent sifting through the cards. A lot were still addressed to Charles and Martha, and she did not want any reminder of her ex-husband. After all, they had been divorced for over a year now.
Pouring herself a large glass of red wine, she retreated to the comfort of her sofa and gracefully curled into its corner. Picking up the remote control, she flicked on the TV and eventually found an old black-and-white movie she had seen before and left it playing. No, it wasn't that she didn't enjoy Christmas. She did. She just didn't expect him to have to work over their first Christmas together. She remembered their argument this morning and shivered.
"It's not that I want to work, Martha. I haven't got a choice." Aaron picked up his shield and gun from the kitchen counter and turned to face her, her face a picture of anger and hurt.
"Dammit, Aaron, don't give me that -- I spoke to Wayne!" she shouted, and his face began to flush.
"You spoke to President Palmer?" he replied calmly.
" Yes. He called to wish me a Merry Christmas, and said how he was surprised you had offered to work. Seeing as it is our first Christmas together as an official couple. Offered to work, Aaron! Why would you do that?"
"Martha. It's Christmas. Most of the agents under me have families, small children. I thought you would understand that. Besides I will be home by midnight." He walked towards her and reached out to touch her face. Martha stepped back out of his reach, still angry at him.
" We can make tomorrow our Christmas." He stepped forward and grabbed her arms and slowly pulled her toward him. "It's my job, Martha. You know that more than anyone. The country doesn't stop running just because its the holidays."
Martha pulled away from his embrace and walked out of the kitchen. "Fine. I guess I'll see you at midnight. If I'm still awake. Merry Christmas, Aaron." She slammed the door to the living room and to Aaron.
Sitting on the sofa now, she took a large sip of her wine and thought back to this morning. She had expected him to come in after her and take her in his arms and apologize. They had been seeing each other now for a little over eight months and this was the first argument they had had. But she had been right to be angry, hadn't she? she wondered. But he hadn't come after her; instead all she heard was the slam of the door as he left for work. So this had been her Christmas day. Presents still under the tree. Turkey still in the freezer and Aaron still at work. Sinking deeper into her sofa she thought back to what he had said. Dammit, why was he always right? Of course the other agents who had small children should be able to spend the day with them. When Jeremy was small, that was what Christmas was all about, the look of joy on his face when he awoke to find a mountain of presents under the tree. It had been so many years since he was small that she had forgot the overwhelming happiness to see a child's face light up. Of course Aaron had been right. Who was he to deny that to his staff? And who was she to put her own happiness first? He would be home in a few hours, then they could begin their own celebrations. Feeling slightly better about things, she turned her attention back to the television and finished her wine, her eyes slowly closing as the alcohol and the log fire took effect.
"Buzzzzz." The sound of the door jolted Martha awake and sleepily she looked at her watch. 10.30pm. Aaron wouldn't be home yet; besides, he had a key. Slowly she pulled herself up from the sofa and made her way to the door, pulling the blanket off the back of the sofa as she went. She peered out of the peep hole and couldn't see anyone. Maybe it was carolers who got bored waiting and moved next door. Putting on the chain, she opened the door. No one. Glancing down, she saw a package sitting on her porch. It was wrapped in shiny green paper, and tied with a tartan bow. Opening the door fully, she looked at the package. She resisted the urge to call her Secret Service detail stationed at the end of her street, knowing that they would have scanned the package before allowing it to reach her doorstep. Wrapping the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders, she stepped on to the porch and lifted the present. Noticing it had a small card attached, she moved toward the porchlight to read it. "Open me," she read. Smiling to herself she thought of the story Alice in Wonderland...she wouldn't have been surprised if a white rabbit had popped his head around the corner. Plus she recognized that handwriting.
Patience never being one of her strong points, she ripped open the package and found a cardboard box. Intrigued, she opened the lid to find a mass of silver paper with a small white envelope placed gently on the top. "Open me," she read again. "Curiouser and curiouser," she smiled to herself, opening the envelope and carefully opening the letter she found inside. "Back Garden." That was all it said. Glancing one final time up and down the brightly lit street she closed the front door and headed toward the kitchen. Peering out of the French windows into the darkness of the backyard, she could see nothing and slowly she opened the back door.
Gasping out loud, she began to laugh as what seemed like a million stars seemed to flicker to life in the trees. She spun around on the patio as more and more fairy lights lit up her garden. Then she noticed him standing at the bottom of the garden. At least she hoped it was him, but beneath the red suit and the bushy white beard it was hard to tell. She slowly began to move down the garden toward him and laughed out loud as she recognized his beautiful eyes glinting under the fake beard. "What in the name of...Aaron, what is this?" She reached her Father Christmas and placed her hands on his chest. "Or should I say..what are you doing here, Santa?"
"Well, I was in the neighborhood, so thought I would stop by to check if you have been naughty or nice this year." He smiled down at her.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she nuzzled her face against the white hair that covered his chin. "Oh, I've been a very, very good girl." She pulled away and looked into those deep blue eyes of his. "Well, apart from this morning. I was a total bitch to the man I love when he was being sensitive and thoughtful to others. But I'm hoping he will forgive me. In the spirit of Christmas and all."
"Oh, I think he just might." Aaron replied, pulling her closer for a kiss.
Martha leaned in to him and responded hungrily, but found that the damn beard he was wearing was getting in the way. Pulling away slightly, she whispered, "Honey, do you think we can lose the beard?"
Laughing at her obvious frustration, he reached behind his neck and pulled off the beard. Taking it off him, she threw it to the ground.
"Careful. It cost me 60 bucks to rent this sucker!"
Laughing, she again pulled him close for another, deeper kiss. Gently kissing his mouth, then moving to his face and neck, she managed to murmur inbetween kisses, "You are the sweetest, most thoughtful man I have ever met in my life. Do you know that?" Looking around her brightly lit garden, she laughed again. "How on earth did you manage to do all of this?"
"Lucky for me, you are a very heavy sleeper, darlin'. So..." He looked at his wrist watch. "So, it's still Christmas for another hour. Want to go inside, and we can unwrap our presents?"
Martha took a step back and looked him up and down, him standing in her garden wearing the Santa suit. Leaning in to him, she whispered in his ear. "I have a better idea. Why don't we take this upstairs, and we can both unwrap our presents." Pulling him toward the house, she turned to him and grinned. "After all, I have been a very good girl this year."