It was Christmas Eve, the snow was falling and the air was crisp. It was a day right out of a snow globe. Children excitedly watched the flakes became as large as their eyes, waiting for Santa Claus to fulfill their every wish. Everyone in Springfield, with the exception of one resident that is.
Roger Thorpe and Holly Linsdey had a storied history at best. However after more than two decades of their precarious dance they had managed to come back together in a way that both infuriated, and sickened the majority of those who had been around them during a time when Holly had once been accused of murdering the man she now claimed to love, claimed to love that was until Alexandra Spaudling, one of Roger's many ex-wives, took matters in to her own hands. On the 23rd of December Roger had assembled, with help from their daughter Blake, a five course meal that was to culminate with a proposal of marriage, one he knew Holly couldn't refuse. Instead, it culminated with her throwing one of his ties into the fireplace, and the rest of his clothes on the front porch. Roger spent that evening banging on the front door begging to be allowed back in so he could explain. By dawn he had exhausted his energy, his voice was hoarse, and the meaty part of his hand was a deep purple from her he continually pounded the wood.
The last time she yelled "Go away, I don't want to see you again!" He did.
He ignored the piles of dress shirts, socks, and ties that littered the front porch and walk. He shoved his hands into his wool overcoat, head down he walked to his brand new car. He climbed in and wrapped his arms around himself. He was cold despite the coat, which he shimmied out of, throwing it on the seat beside him. It had to have been his imagination, but he was certain he saw the blind on the front door move, but that would mean she cared enough to see if he was still on the other side of it.
Roger pushed the ignition button causing the car to roar to life. The warmth from the vents circulated, warming him immediately. He lay his head on the steering wheel before he grabbed it tightly. Without looking he placed the gear shift in reverse and stepped solidly on the gas pedal. He barely touched the brake when he heard a horn blare behind him when the car was firmly on River Bend Drive, instead he gave the offending driver a crude gesture and sped away.
Roger stopped at the television station he co-owned with Holly. He didn't even bother to put his jacket on as he stormed to his office. He shoved the door with such force that the glass window behind it quivered, threatening to break as it did. He sat heavily in his chair, turning on the light of his desk. He laid his head in his hands. "Damn it, Alexandra" He swore.
"Roger…" His reverie was broken by the voice of the stage manager, Gilly Grant.
"What do you want?" He growled.
Nervously Gilly crossed the threshold of the office. "Well, the national weather service is issuing a severe weather warning, and the governor is issuing a stay at home order."
"Thank you Gilly, but I'm quite capable of turning the television on and watching the news. I don't need you to burst into my office and give me an update. Do you understand?"
Gilly shifted her weight between her two feet. "Roger, I'm sure you are, but I'm more concerned with non-essential personnel. Would you like me to send them home? Obviously the news crew will need to remain, but we were planning on airing a repeat of a talk show, and then airing It's A Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story and of course A Christmas Carol on a loop until the 26th."
Roger had barely listened to what she said. He didn't care about anyone but himself and getting revenge on Alexandra Spaulding. Knowing Gilly was part of the Country Club scene he asked "Where is Alexandra planning on spending the holidays?" He demanded.
Gilly narrowed an eye "I'm not sure, I could find out if you'd like, but Roger, I think we should really talk about sending people home. The weather service says there is already six inches of snow out there already with at least twelve more to come." Her voice sounded urgent.
Roger slammed the light off on his desk and stood. He brushed past Gilly who called after him. "Roger, I need an answer!"
Roger stopped, spun on one foot and sneered. "You're the station stage manager, are you not?" He wasn't looking for a response. "You make the decision. That is what I'm paying you for isn't it?" He turned again and stormed to the elevator. He slammed his hand into the down button and growled when the doors didn't immediately open.
When he found himself in his car again, he leaned his head heavily on the headrest. He was emotionally and physically exhausted. He had imagined waking up with Holly wrapped in his arms after having spent the night making love, not war. He shook the idea out of his head. He pushed the ignition button and again the car roared to life and with it the radio. He had it tuned to a station that had been playing Christmas Carols exclusively since Thanksgiving. Normally he wouldn't have, but Holly loved them. December after all marked not only Christmas and New Years Eve, but also her birthday which in part was how she got her name. So he compromised, and listened to so many versions of Have a Holly Jolly Christmas that he would automatically start singing along when he heard it. Only today he wasn't jolly and didn't care if anyone else was either. A reporter was just breaking into programming when Roger slammed the button to squelch the noise.
As the snow fell around him he drove aimlessly. He wanted to go home, but he knew that he had to confront Alexandra first. He needed her to admit to him that she set him up, and then he would convince her to admit that to Holly. Recklessly he drove to the Spaulding Mansion and found the gate to be closed. He pushed the call button and waited.
A familiar voice answered "Yes, how may I help you?" It was the all too loyal, all too willing to please Vera.
"Open the gate, Vera" Roger's voice boomed.
"Mr. Thorpe?" She asked, knowing full well who it was.
"Damn it Vera, open the gate or I will scale it. I want to see that barracuda you call a boss this minute. Open the gate Vera, or I'm ramming it."
"Calm down Mr. Thorpe, I don't think your health or auto insurance would cover any damage you may cause."
"I mean it Vera, I'm going to count to three, and you better have this gate open!" He yelled.
"Mr. Thorpe, while I'd love to accommodate you, I can't. Miss. Spaulding is away until after New Years. She left very early this morning. I am sorry you've missed her."
"Right, and I'm Santa Claus" Roger responded before throwing the car in reverse again.
He drove past Holly's house not once, but twice. Both times he noted that Holly's car was still parked in its spot, and that there were no new footprints in the snow. The second time he slowed to a crawl, but at the last minute pushed the excellerator and raced up the road and through the stop sign at the end of the street without slowing down. Hours later, his stomach was growling relentlessly. He had no idea where he was, or if anything was even open, but he saw a diner sign up head. The sign was a misnomer, it was more a truck stop on the side of what was once a busy highway. He pulled in and got out.
"Sit anywhere ya want" A burly voice from the kitchen called out.
Roger looked around and discovered that he was the only patron in the building. After he selected a booth the man with the burly voice stood beside the table.
"Weathermen were finally right. The governor wants everyone off the highways by four so you best hurry up and grab something to eat then get out of here."
"Sure, I'll have some coffee, and whatever you recommend."
"Fine, I'll grill you up a burger. Name is Henry by the way. Let me know if ya need anything before I get back."
Roger nodded, but didn't say anything. He lay his head back and closed his eyes. Moments later it seemed he felt his shoulder being shoved.
"Did you hear me man? You need to eat this and go. I've got to close up. Damn government, dictating when it's not safe enough to drive. If I want to stay open I should be able to, but I won't be able to afford the damn fine." Henry slammed a check on the table top and disappeared behind the swinging doors again.
Roger looked at the scribbled tally, pulling a $20 bill from his wallet, laying it on the table. He took a bite of his burger and made a face. He choked down half of it before giving up. "Thanks Henry, have a safe drive wherever you are going" Roger called out before leaving the diner.
He climbed back in his car. Between the early setting sun and the snow it was almost dark outside. Slowly he backed into the empty parking lot and eased his car back into the snow. He didn't make it more than a mile down the road before he was stopped by a state police road block. He slowed and put his window down. A kid as young as Blake leaned in.
"The highway's closed. In fact, everything's closed, Mister."
"Yes, I know, I'm just trying to get home. Shouldn't take me more than twenty minutes even in this weather" Roger lied. He pointed to the exit and asked, "Am I able to get off here and make my way?"
"Well, I'm not supposed to let you pass, but I don't want to make anyone miss Christmas Eve with their family. Just be careful, and know that, once you get to your destination you're there until this blizzard stops, even if it's with your in-laws.. Merry Christmas, ``he said.
Roger saluted the young office and smiled. "Thank you very much."
A half hour later Roger was still aimlessly driving. He was on a two lane road with no scenery on either side. The snow was so deep that he couldn't make out the sides or the middle of where he was driving, not that it mattered he was the only car on the road which he took his eyes off of for just a moment to look at his cell phone. NO SERVICE greeted him.
"Great, just great" He said, throwing it so hard that it bounced to the floor with a clatter. When Roger looked back at the road he noticed that a bank of trees sprang seemingly out of nowhere, making visibility even more precarious. Suddenly he saw movement ahead, an animal must have darted into the middle of the road. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white under the force. His foot pressed the brake pedal but the car continued to lurch forward. Not wanting to hit a deer Roger tugged the wheel to the left, hoping that he'd slide past it. Instead, the car continued to careen forward before finally landing at its final resting place, its front end completely entwined in a very large tree.
He felt the impact, his airbag deployed. His seat belt caught him. His knee made contact with the underside of the dashboard. Roger inhaled deeply and coughed. He could smell the aroma of antifreeze, oil, and burning metal. He pushed the button to release his seatbelt, lurching forward when it did. There was no pain. Certainly he broke a rib, and at the very least bruised his knee but he felt nothing. Adrenaline must be acting as natural pain relief, he reasoned.
Suddenly he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Perhaps he had missed the dear after all. Slowly he reached for the handle of the door.
"Please open" He whispered. The door complied, popping open when the handle was released. Though Roger did have to expend some effort to open it as it was lodged in snow. He swung his legs out into the fluffy snow and stood, again expecting there to be pain, but none was to be found. He again laid his hands on his chest, and even felt his face and arms.
"Well, I'd say you are lucky to be alive there Roger, and from the look on your face you know it."
Roger narrowed his eyes. He had to be hearing things, or worse, he was dead and this was purgatory. He put his hands over his eyes and rubbed them before looking.
"Hello Roger, remember me?" The feminine voice asked.
"Bert….Bert Bauer…but you're dead." He stammered.
Bert laughed. "Yes, sadly I am, but that doesn't mean I'm ever very far away." She smiled.
Roger stumbled backwards, landing heavily on the side of his car. "If that's true then I'm also dead."
Bert held up her pointer finger. "Well no, you're not. You're very much alive. However, if you wish to remain that way, well, that will be entirely up to you. Come, sit with me." She pat a fallen tree log that was mysteriously absent of snow. Roger looked dubiously.
"There is no reason to be afraid of Roger. Why the look on your face is priceless, I wish I had a camera, you look like you've seen a ghost."