I apologize for taking so long to write each chapter but real life is so busy. I posted this chapter on its own last year when I was uncertain where it would fit into my story so it will be a repeat to some readers. With a little tweaking, it fits in right about...here.
[Author's note: This is a loose adaptation of Charles Dickens's 'A Christmas Carol'. If I have copied any other fanfic, it was unintentional and I apologize. Rebekah]
CHAPTER 7---A CHRISTMAS TALE
The fall days in New York became shorter and colder as they gradually blended into winter. Caroline and Richard carefully avoided any talk that included the words 'rain, 'opera' and 'kiss.' Caroline could still feel the hurt of his words that night. "It was a big mistake. It won't happen again" ran over and over again in her mind like a litany. She had decided that if he was that afraid of her maybe it would be better if she just backed off a little. So she talked instead of mundane, everyday safe topics, like the weather, which he hated and Christmas, which he equally hated.
Richard actually lived through his cold, which surprised him. He just wasn't used to being ill. The first few days at work he couldn't bring himself to look up in Caroline's face but instead, concentrated on the coloring. He was still trying to figure how they had gotten to this place. It was those silly games or more precisely, staying for dinner at Caroline's. He could see how that innocent meal led to this current situation just by following the breadcrumbs backwards. Well, maybe the situation would remedy itself if he just backed off a lot, cutting out the small talk and just being unavailable. Nothing else. He was good at that. In fact, he knew he excelled at being unavailable. It was, after all, the Karinsky specialty.
Gradually the tension in the air between them eased up as the stress of work and the holidays hit. Caroline began teasing him again and laughing at his sarcastic jokes. Richard, in spite of his resolve, found himself relaxing around her once again. He didn't want to admit it, but this woman was the only woman who could work on him this way. He told himself this meant nothing.
Richard stood silently behind his door at the sound of the knock followed by his mother's voice. He debated whether he should open it or pretend not to be home. Considering she was a mother, biologically anyway, he figured she had x-ray vision and could see him standing there. He dropped his head in defeat and unlocked his door.
"Mother." It was merely a statement of her place in his world. It held no affection out of years of habit and less than wonderful memories.
"Richard, how nice to see you, dear. This is where you live? Oh, my. Why don't you move somewhere decent?"
"Mother, what do you want? I'm on my way to work."
"Oh yes, your little coloring job. How is Caroline, anyway? Here, I thought you might want this. I was cleaning out some old boxes." She handed him a large paper grocery bag.
"I don't want anything from my past. You keep whatever it is. I don't need it."
"Honey, these belonged to your grandmother. I remember how much you liked her. I just thought you might want a memento." She pulled out an object wrapped in newspaper. She quickly ripped off the paper and held up a crystal wine glass. It still had the delicately etched rose and gold edged rim just as he remembered. It instantly reminded him of his grandmother.
Nana. She had insisted he call her Nana. She was the only member of his family that he had loved. When he was little, she would hug him and tell him how wonderful and smart he was. He would sit up on her kitchen stool listening to her stories and licking the mixing bowl. At holiday time when he was older, he would help her cook just so he could stay away from the rest of the family. Sometimes she would let him sneak a swallow of champagne in one of these very same glasses. Shhh, she would say, with her finger to her lips. It'll just be our secret. She was his refuge. God, how he missed her. How nice it would be if he could talk to her now about certain confusions in his life, especially about one particular red head. He sighed.
"Thanks. I'm sure they'll fit in perfectly with my décor." He answered sarcastically.
After his mother left, he carefully rewrapped the glass and shoved the bag in the corner against the wall.
The bright red mechanical Santa sitting on Caroline's coffee table swayed its hips back and forth while "Jingle Bells Rock" emanated loudly from his fat belly. Richard just stood and stared at it expressionlessly.
"Cute, isn't he?" Caroline asked with a smile, swiveling around in her chair.
Richard shook his head and walked back to the desk. "Caroline, that miniature monstrosity is a symbol of how far our culture has degenerated. The idea of Christmas has sunk to nothing more than crass commercialism and monetary gain. This is the time of year when the advertising section of the newspaper is twice as heavy as the news. The Christmas decorations are put out before Halloween and everywhere the message is that you're supposed to feel love and goodwill just because it's the twenty fifth day of December."
"Well, bah-humbug to you, too." She replied brightly. "He was just an impulse buy. Fifty percent off," she added with a laugh.
"Oh, well, in that case, why didn't you buy two?"
"Actually, Richard, I agree with you about the spirit of Christmas disappearing. Soooo..." she ran over to the kitchen counter and held up a video. "I rented 'A Christmas Carol.' I thought we could kick off early since its Christmas Eve. I even put together something to eat. How about it?"
Oh no, not again. Richard got up from his chair and headed towards the door. "I don't think so, Caroline. I'm sure I've got something better to do than watch tiny Tim."
Caroline pulled out a large platter of cheeses, deli meats, cookies and crackers and held it in front of him. Richard halted, glancing down at it.
"Wow. Is that brie?" he asked, peering a little closer. Caroline nodded. Richard hesitated, debating. He would have to blame it on his stomach once again. "A Christmas Carol, huh?"
"It's the version with George C. Scott, my favorite. I passed up Mr. Magoo's Christmas. I knew you wouldn't like that one."
"You know me so well." He followed her over to the couch. One little video and food shouldn't hurt. He could still be unavailable afterwards.
"Okay, movie's over. I'm out of here." Richard got up and picked up his coat.
"Richard, why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow? My parents will be here and so will Annie and Del."
"No thanks, Caroline. I plan on spending the day alone, painting." He was standing next to the door, pulling on the handle.
"But you can't really want to be alone on Christmas. That's so depressing."
"Maybe for you it is because you need other people. I don't."
"Richard, everybody needs someone. Even you." She said softly. She debated pleading with him but one look at his set face and she knew it was useless to argue with him. And whatever happened to her resolve to back off for a while? Maybe she could make that her New Year's Eve resolution. "At least let me give you your Christmas gift. It was too big to wrap so it's upstairs." She started up the stairs.
"Caroline...Caroline, no present. We agreed, remember? I couldn't afford anything this year because I didn't find a second job and my rent went up."
"Richard, I got you something because I wanted to, not because I expected anything in return."
Richard looked down at the floor and then up at her. Why did she have to make his life so difficult? Couldn't she just let him be?
"No thank you, Caroline. See you in a few days." He walked resolutely to the elevator and pushed the button.
Caroline stuck her head out of her door. "Hey, Richard." He turned around. "God bless us, every one." She mimicked tiny Tim and grinned at him as the elevator door closed. He just rolled his eyes.
Richard stared at the blank canvas trying to find inspiration. His mind was just as blank. He rooted around in his kitchenette trying to find the bottle of wine he had opened a few weeks ago. One swig told him that it had probably been a little longer than that. Oh, well, it wasn't too bad. He sat on his bed, drinking the sour wine out of the bottle and thinking about Caroline. Most of the night he had felt her eyes on him. Maybe it was just his imagination because every time he turned to look at her, she appeared to be concentrating on the movie. But he had noticed this habit of hers a lot lately. He just couldn't figure out how to stop it.
Even though it was early, he felt tired. Maybe it was the wine or maybe he was coming down with another horrible cold or even the latest influenza going around. Now that he had been sick once, he figured he was a sitting duck for all the other viruses out there just waiting to strike. He lay down on the bed, just for a few minutes, he told himself. Then he would try to paint again. He could feel the room spinning and tilting slightly clockwise. The wine was a mistake. He really just wanted to get up and be sick in the bathroom but he couldn't move. He could feel himself drifting off.
Something bumped the chair in the middle of the room. He opened his eyes to find he wasn't the only one in his apartment.
"Shelley?" He managed to gasp out her name and nothing else. She was clothed in a long, diaphanous gown with a gaudy, glittery crown stuck in her hair.
"Hey, Richard. How's my ex-boyfriend? I've missed you." Shelley clapped her hand over her mouth, giggling. She moved towards the bed. Richard recoiled from her in fear. "Wow, I see you still have that angry yang. You should let me try that acupuncture on you. I've gotten better at it. I hardly ever hit a vein now." She stared at him wide eyed. "Richard, are you alright?"
"Shelley, what are you doing in my apartment? How did you get in?" He said hoarsely and breathing heavily.
"Sil-lly! How can you ask me that? You know I'm the spirit of Christmas past. At least" she giggled again, "that's what the boss told me. So, here's what I'm supposed to tell you." She reached into a pocket of her flowing dress and pulled out a piece of paper. Clearing her throat dramatically, she began, "I am the spirit of Christmas Past." She glanced up at him. "See, told you so."
She continued. "I am here to escort you back in time to your own childhood so you can remember why you want to be alone and to show you what your life will become if you continue on the path you have chosen." She finished, sighed loudly and looked up again. "Okay, to do this, you have to hold my hand." She reached out to him. He didn't move.
"You're so funny!" She cooed as if to a small infant. "Don't be afraid, Richard. It won't hurt a bit, I promise."
"That's what you said about the acupuncture." He didn't know why but he reached up and grabbed her extended hand. She giggled again.
"Shelley, did I ever mention that I was Jewish?"
Everything was dark for a few moments then Richard found himself standing in a familiar room. Thirty children sat in neat rows facing the teacher at the front of the class.
"Oh my god! It's my first grade classroom." Richard exclaimed.
"Cool! It really worked." Shelley giggled again, highly pleased with herself.
The class was in the middle of a question and answer session. One small girl was standing and taking her turn.
"....a bicycle and a doll and a magic bake oven." She smiled broadly as the rest of the class applauded. The teacher looked around the classroom.
"Now, who have we missed? Wait a minute...Ritchie Karinsky, it's your turn to tell the class what Santa brought you for Christmas." All eyes turned to one small blond headed boy wearing heavy framed glasses. The children sitting in front of him turned around and gave him their full attention. Someone snickered.
"Let's leave, Shelley. Right now, please." Richard sounded a little nervous.
"Shhh. I want to hear what he says."
"Shelley, I've already lived through this once, why do I have to relive it?"
"Did I mention that they can't see or hear us? Isn't that cool?" Shelley absently commented.
The teacher repeated her question. "Richard, please stand up and tell your classmates what Santa brought you for Christmas." There were several moments of silence.
Young Richard slowly stood up, his blond hair falling in his eyes. He impatiently brushed it aside and pushed his glasses higher up his nose with his index finger. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. His teacher began impatiently tapping one foot.
Finally he spoke. "Nothing."
"What did you say? I didn't hear you." His teacher was getting angrier now.
He spoke up. "Nothing. I didn't get anything for Christmas." Amid the loud laughter from the other children, little Richard suddenly shouted, "I hate Christmas. It's stupid anyway."
"Now Richard, stop that right now. Christmas is not stupid." His teacher was shouting, too. "I think you need to go to the principal right now."
"Shelley, I want to leave NOW."
Shelley was staring sadly at little Ritchie being led from the classroom. "Oh, the poor widdle boy. It wasn't his fault."
"Yeah, yeah, Shelley. I got over it." Richard was looking away from the painful scene. Shelley reached out and took his hand. In an instant it was dark followed by blinding light and music. They were in a large living room. The place was full of teenagers laughing, dancing and eating. A few of the couples were scattered in dark corners, necking and groping. Richard knew instantly where he was.
"Susan Johnson's Christmas party. I was a freshman in high school. I had a crush on Susan. I remember thinking that she liked me too when she invited me to her house. Until I found her in a corner with Bradley Dunton."
"Richard, you big silly boy. Everyone has crushes."
"But I made the mistake of telling Bradley. You should have seen he and the other guys laughing at me."
As they watched, a young blond teenager with glasses and teenage acne hesitantly walked across the room towards a vivacious young blonde girl who was surrounded by her peers. Bradley, seeing this, moved from the other side of the room towards Susan. Putting his arm around her, he leaned down and kissed her. Young Richard froze. The expression on his face plainly showed his hurt.
"As you can see, Christmas has not been a good holiday for me. All I learned was not to ever reveal how I felt about anyone. But all that is over. It doesn't matter anymore."
"But..."
"I know what you're trying to do. Just like Ebenezer Scrooge, I'm supposed to change my evil ways. Well, it isn't going to happen, Shelley. I just want to go back to bed. Now."
"Okay, Richard. But you're just a big poopie head." She took his hand. Instantly, they were back in his room. Shelley glanced above her head.
"Oh look! Mistletoe!" She giggled at Richard and said brightly, "Good-bye." She disappeared in an instant. Richard kept staring at the spot, expecting her to reappear. When she didn't he lay back down on his bed. He kept muttering to himself that it must have been the wine.
As he felt himself drifting off again, he realized two things. One, there was no mistletoe hanging in his apartment and two, he still thought Christmas was stupid.
He just needed some sleep. He turned over and curled up on his side. Suddenly, someone was tugging on his arm. He opened his eyes, sat up in shock and immediately pulled a sheet up to cover his bare chest.
"Mrs. Spadaro? Where did you come from?"
"Dear, just call me Angie. I came from Paramus on the number 2 bus, then a transfer at..."
"I meant, how did you get in my dream?" he interrupted her.
"Well, I just don't know for sure but maybe it's because you really need a mother. You know what, I should make you another lasagna. You're looking a little too thin. And I bet you're working too hard. I'm a mother, I know these things." He wasn't sure what the psychological meaning was behind his dreaming about Angie Spadaro. He didn't want to know.
"Oh god, it must have been the Brie. That stuff is just too rich for me. Maybe if I just shut my eyes and think of something else, my dream will change." He muttered to himself.
"Now, Richard, I can't go away just yet. I have a job to do. Part-time but the pay is pretty good. I need the money to pay for my own apartment. I can't keep living with Annie. Do you know how many visitors she has?"
"I have a small idea. So what is your new job? Doing my laundry again?"
"My new job is to show you the Christmas of the present. So, dear, hold my hand and we'll be on our way."
Richard held out his hand in speechless amazement.
Everything went dark. In the next second, Richard found himself in Caroline's brightly lit dining room completely decked out with Christmas decorations. Her table was loaded with turkey and all the trimmings. Del was sitting on one side apparently with a date, Annie on the other side and Mr. Duffy was at one end, sharpening a knife in preparation to carve up the turkey. Mrs. Duffy and Caroline were bustling around her kitchen putting together last minute details.
"It's too bad I had to work tonight. I was invited you know." Angie sniffed.
Richard moved back around the corner as if to hide.
"Don't worry, dear. They can't see or hear us."
Caroline and Mrs. Duffy walked back into the dining room with several more dishes and sat down. Annie reached up and lit the candles. Mr. Duffy immediately started a blessing for the food. Everyone bowed their heads while Del groped his date's leg under the table.
"So Caroline, where is that assistant of yours? Robert, Ronald?" Mrs. Duffy was searching her memory for his name.
"Richard, Mom. He said he had other things to do today. I did invite him." Caroline looked a little sad as she stared down at her plate.
"Well, I hope he's spending it with his family. A person needs family, I always say. Don't you agree, Bill?"
"Sure thing, dumpling. Okay, who wants a leg? Caroline, do you want white or dark meat, puddin'?"
Del was helping himself to sausage and sage dressing. "I'm glad Richard didn't show up. He's a total drag to be around. A real mood killer. I bet the guy has no friends."
Annie chimed in. "He doesn't want any friends. He's a loner. I say let's just let him be alone and enjoy dinner without him."
"Richard is not a bad person to be around. He's just ...different, that's all. I think, underneath that cynical exterior, is a very sweet and sensitive man. I think he has a lot of possibilities if he just..." Caroline paused, not sure of what she wanted to say. She was conscious of everyone staring at her and she still wasn't eating anything.
"If he just had a lobotomy?" Annie finished for her. "Sounds good to me." Del laughed.
Mrs. Duffy just shook her head in sadness.
"My Annie doesn't really mean half the things she says, you know. And Caroline...she always sticks up for you doesn't she? I'm sure she's in love with you."
"No, Mrs. Spadaro, she's not in love with me. You only said that because this is my dream and I wanted you to." Richard said sadly. "Annie and Del are right. I have no friends. I don't trust anyone and probably never will. It's better this way."
"Just because you had a unhappy childhood and have always been alone, doesn't mean you have to be alone all your life. Things can change, dear."
Richard just shook his head. "Could you take me home? I really need to get some sleep tonight."
Mrs. Spadaro looked concerned. "Oh dear, I hope I did my job right. I mean, I wouldn't want to be fired or anything." She began clucking her tongue and speaking in Italian.
"Mrs. Spadaro, Mrs. Spadaro, Angie..." Richard finally got her attention. "I'm sure you won't lose your job. I just want to go home, okay?" Angie reached out and grabbed his hand. Immediately darkness surrounded him. As he stared, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and familiar objects in his own room replaced his vision. He sighed in relief. Maybe he was having a mental breakdown. Not that anyone would care if he did. He lay back down on his bed hoping for a dreamless sleep this time.
A door slammed.
Richard bolted upright in bed. The woman standing next to him had dark curly hair and an expression to match. The elevator lady. At least, that's how he had mentally labeled her. He never knew her real name. She was Caroline's neurotic, sullen and man-hating upstairs neighbor. They always seemed to meet in the elevator. If he was dreaming about her, he must be downright masochistic.
"Hey. You. Wake up." She was standing with her arms crossed, glaring at him and kicking the end of the bed with her foot. Richard was speechless. Even if he wasn't, he wouldn't have had a chance against this woman.
"I'm the ghost of Christmas future, yada, yada, yada. Let's get this over. I don't have all night, ya know. Do you think I enjoy this?"
Richard was still speechless.
The elevator lady muttered to herself. "Does anyone really care if I have to work the night shift? No. And why should Shelley get to work the early shift anyway? Why is she so special? I'll tell you why. She kisses up to the boss, that's why. Typical man...what a sap." She snorted angrily, stamping her foot.
Out of all this run-on torrent of complaints, Richard confused brain managed to fixate on one thing. "You know Shelley?"
"Look, I'm already behind schedule. Let's go. Unfortunately we have to hold hands for this." She shuttered and extended her pinkie finger with distaste. Richard hesitated. He wasn't sure which he feared most, going anyplace with the woman or facing her anger when he refused. He chose to go, gingerly holding her finger. Anything to be able to sleep the rest of the night.
The surrounding darkness was immediately replaced with dim lighting in a small room. Chairs were set up facing one end of a room tastefully decorated with pastel wallpaper and navy blue carpet. Floral bouquets were located by several doors. Richard took all this in in one glance but it was the object located at the far end of the room that caught his full attention. A large expensive looking casket lay with its top open. Numerous bouquets and floral arrangements surrounded it as well as original paintings. Richard felt as if his feet were rooted to the spot.
"Look, can't we just get this over with? I've got better things to do than pull you around by the hand."
Richard gulped. "No, I can't look. It can't be her. Please no."
The elevator lady was getting impatient. "How come I get stuck with the wimp?"
She pushed Richard in the direction of the casket. He half stumbled down the aisle. With an unspeakable dread, he slowly approached the coffin. To his surprise, he was looking down at ...himself. Well, the deceased was himself but maybe in about another ten years or so. There was graying around the temples and wrinkles on his face that were still in the future.
He looked around the empty room. "When does the service begin?"
"It already has." The elevator lady was examining her nails and looking bored.
"But where is everybody?"
"This is it. I read that you finally became famous and made a lot of money but lived alone. I guess you never had any friends. If you ask me, friends are definitely over-rated."
Richard looked shocked. His funeral and no one bothered to show up. Suddenly the rear door opened. A familiar figure walked slowly down the aisle towards the coffin. It was Caroline dressed in black, looking older and worn. The sparkle and happiness he always associated with her was gone and had been replaced with weariness. She slowly approached the coffin with tears running down her cheeks. She stood over his body for some time, then reached out and laid her palm against his still cheek.
"Richard..." She whispered and couldn't say anymore.
Richard couldn't stand her unhappiness. It wasn't right. Caroline should never have to feel this way, especially about him. He stepped closer to her. "Caroline, it's okay. I'm not dead. This is some kind of stupid joke. Please don't cry." Caroline just stared down at his body.
"She can't hear you, remember?" The elevator lady snorted with disgust. "What a moron."
Caroline turned and sat down in a chair in the first row. She sat and cried even harder. "Why did you have to leave?" she whispered. Richard had never felt so helpless.
The rear door snapped open again.
This time, a well-dressed gentleman strode down the aisle towards Caroline. He stood over her, glancing only once towards the coffin.
"Caroline, what's taking you so long? You know I have a surgery to perform in the morning and the children are waiting for you at home. Let's go." He sounded impatient.
Caroline looked up at him in tears, nodding her head.
"Why are you crying? I thought you got over that jerk years ago." He said angrily. "Come on, I said let's go." This time he griped her roughly by her upper arm and pulled her towards him and up the aisle. Caroline gave one look behind her and then disappeared through the door.
"Wow, she married a doctor. Probably with a six figure income, too. She couldn't have done any better." The elevator lady managed to look jealous and respectful at the same time.
"Yes, she could have." Richard commented sadly.
"Hey, there's nothing else out there. Believe me." The elevator lady turned around and headed up the aisle after them. "I'm outta here. I've got things to do, like find a date, get married, have kids, get a huge mortgage I can't really afford..." Her voice wandered off.
"Hey, don't leave me here. Take me back. I don't want to be left alone." Richard said to her retreating back but to no avail. She kept walking away. "Hey, I mean it, I don't want to be alone. Can you hear me?" He was yelling at the top of his lungs now. He rushed after her but something caught at his feet and legs, entangling him and pulling him towards the coffin containing his still body.
"Hey, buddy, I'm sure the whole building can hear you and we don't care. Shut the hell up." The pounding coming from the next apartment stopped. Richard found himself flat on the floor next to his bed, his sheets wound around his ankles. The early morning sun managed to sneak one ray through the neon sign hanging across his dirty window and into his eyes, temporarily blinding him. He slowly untangled himself. It was morning.
He had somehow made it through the night in one piece. And he was alone. Just as he wanted. He sat on the floor in the middle of his apartment and listened to the silence. The once comforting absence of sound now bothered him. He could feel the walls closing in on him, smothering him. He thought of Caroline. He knew, without a doubt, that she would be a life long friend if he wanted her to be. Would that really be such a bad thing? He couldn't think of one other person in his life that could make that same claim. It was trying to separate the friendship from the strong attraction he felt for her that was the hardest.
Wondering what day it was since he felt like Rip Wan Winkle, he cautiously opened his door and walked over to a neighbor's apartment. He looked down at the newspaper lying in front of the door to find the date. December 25th. He gave a sigh of relief. He hadn't missed Christmas day.
Back in his apartment, he picked up the telephone and dialed Caroline's number. A recording telling him that all circuits were busy played in his ear. He needed to see her anyway, to make sure she was all right, to see her smiling face. He quickly changed clothes. He had his hand on the doorknob when it suddenly occurred to him. A gift. He needed to take her a gift. He wanted to give her something. But nothing was going to be open on Christmas day and even if a store was open, he had no money.
He looked around his room desperately, his eyes falling on the bag in the corner. He ran over and pulled it out into the center of the room. Kneeling down, he removed the five glasses from his grandmother that still remained intact. Removing the newspaper from one, he held it up in the low lighting. Twirling it between his thumb and index finger, it caught and reflected the light back across the room like rays of fire. Perfect. He knew she would love them.
Rewrapping it in the newspaper, he searched around for a box big enough for all five. Finding just what he needed, he dumped out the paints and brushes on the floor and repacked it. He stared down at the ugly box. Wrapping paper, he needed wrapping paper. Looking around again, he smiled to himself. Yes, perfect. He wound the paper around the box just so and fastened it with a length of twine. He looked at the box with satisfaction and left his apartment.
The walk to Caroline's was long and cold but he didn't mind today. He could only picture her desolate face soaked with tears and it made him hurry. Arriving at her building, he stepped in the elevator just as the elevator lady did. They looked at each other and Richard stepped back from her as far as he could into the corner. She crossed her arms and eyed him disdainfully up to the second floor. Richard flew out of the elevator on the second floor, swearing he would take the stairs from now on.
Knocking on Caroline's door, he rocked back and forth nervously waiting for her to answer. The door opened, framing her in the opening. At first surprised, she now smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. Dressed in a faded oversize sweatshirt with a smudge of flour across one cheek and not a bit of makeup, she looked absolutely beautiful. He felt overjoyed that she was her usual self but carefully kept his expression blank. Just like he always did.
"Richard! Hi. Is everything alright?" Now she was concerned since a visit from him was decidedly unexpected.
"Um, yeah. Fine. I just, uh, wanted to come over and ..." Richard was searching desperately for the right thing to say. "...give you this." He handed her the box.
"Wow, Richard, I don't know what to say. I didn't expect anything. It's really nice to see you today." She wasn't looking at the present, just at him. Suddenly she remembered how she was dressed and looked self-conscious.
"Oh, I guess I should change. I got up early to put the turkey in the oven for dinner."
"Caroline, you look fine. Why don't you open the present?"
Caroline walked into her living room with Richard trailing behind. She set the present down on the coffee table and took a closer look at it. She laughed out loud at the sight of the Sunday comics wrapped around a box. Her 'Caroline in the City' strip was prominently displayed across the top of the package.
"I love it. This is great." Smiled up at him again as she unwrapped it. Reaching into the box for one of the glasses, she unwrapped the paper around it and held her breath. Both watched as she twirled the stem of the glass between her thumb and index finger, the captured light throwing thousands of rainbows around the room.
"Oh, Richard. These are beautiful. But..." Her looks of awe were replaced with confusion. He understood without hearing the question.
"They belonged to my grandmother. She passed away several years ago and my mother gave them to me. I want you to have them." He hesitated for a moment. "Merry Christmas, Caroline."
"Richard, I can't take these. They're part of you, part of your past."
"I want you to have them." He repeated himself. "I can't think of a better place for them."
The way she looked at him made him tingle right down to his toes. He cleared his throat nervously, looking in all directions but hers.
"Well, I guess I should go home now."
Caroline started. "No, don't go, Richard. I have something for you." She ran quickly up the stairs. Coming back down was slower, since she was struggling with a large easel and a wooden box. Richard looked at them with open-mouthed surprise. She caught his expression.
"I saw you looking at this in the window of the art store one day." She explained a little embarrassed. "I hope you like it." He opened the wooden box, revealing a full set of brushes and paint tubes. She could tell by the look on his face that he loved it.
"Please stay for dinner, Richard. There will be a lot of us, but it shouldn't be too awful. Please stay. I want you to stay today, okay." She was begging again.
"You sure you have room for one more at the table?" His question took her completely by surprise. She hadn't expected him to give in so easily.
"Yes, of course I do." Caroline put her hand around his and looked up into his eyes. Every time she touched him, he felt a sudden terror mixed with something else. He had to back away out of this. He needed to breath.
"So, what are you making for dinner?" Richard had pulled his hand away, jumped up and was sauntering towards the kitchen. Caroline followed him.
"Well, I was just starting the dressing for the turkey. What do you think, allspice?" She held up a small spice container with a grin.
"Here, let me." Looking slightly disgusted, he picked up a knife and started chopping celery. "I need fresh basil, parsley, anything but no allspice."
"Yes, sir." She said with amusement and reached into the refrigerator for the ingredients. Laying them on the counter next to him, she stepped back, smiling and watched him take over her kitchen.
Continued in Chapter 8
[Author's note: This is a loose adaptation of Charles Dickens's 'A Christmas Carol'. If I have copied any other fanfic, it was unintentional and I apologize. Rebekah]
CHAPTER 7---A CHRISTMAS TALE
The fall days in New York became shorter and colder as they gradually blended into winter. Caroline and Richard carefully avoided any talk that included the words 'rain, 'opera' and 'kiss.' Caroline could still feel the hurt of his words that night. "It was a big mistake. It won't happen again" ran over and over again in her mind like a litany. She had decided that if he was that afraid of her maybe it would be better if she just backed off a little. So she talked instead of mundane, everyday safe topics, like the weather, which he hated and Christmas, which he equally hated.
Richard actually lived through his cold, which surprised him. He just wasn't used to being ill. The first few days at work he couldn't bring himself to look up in Caroline's face but instead, concentrated on the coloring. He was still trying to figure how they had gotten to this place. It was those silly games or more precisely, staying for dinner at Caroline's. He could see how that innocent meal led to this current situation just by following the breadcrumbs backwards. Well, maybe the situation would remedy itself if he just backed off a lot, cutting out the small talk and just being unavailable. Nothing else. He was good at that. In fact, he knew he excelled at being unavailable. It was, after all, the Karinsky specialty.
Gradually the tension in the air between them eased up as the stress of work and the holidays hit. Caroline began teasing him again and laughing at his sarcastic jokes. Richard, in spite of his resolve, found himself relaxing around her once again. He didn't want to admit it, but this woman was the only woman who could work on him this way. He told himself this meant nothing.
Richard stood silently behind his door at the sound of the knock followed by his mother's voice. He debated whether he should open it or pretend not to be home. Considering she was a mother, biologically anyway, he figured she had x-ray vision and could see him standing there. He dropped his head in defeat and unlocked his door.
"Mother." It was merely a statement of her place in his world. It held no affection out of years of habit and less than wonderful memories.
"Richard, how nice to see you, dear. This is where you live? Oh, my. Why don't you move somewhere decent?"
"Mother, what do you want? I'm on my way to work."
"Oh yes, your little coloring job. How is Caroline, anyway? Here, I thought you might want this. I was cleaning out some old boxes." She handed him a large paper grocery bag.
"I don't want anything from my past. You keep whatever it is. I don't need it."
"Honey, these belonged to your grandmother. I remember how much you liked her. I just thought you might want a memento." She pulled out an object wrapped in newspaper. She quickly ripped off the paper and held up a crystal wine glass. It still had the delicately etched rose and gold edged rim just as he remembered. It instantly reminded him of his grandmother.
Nana. She had insisted he call her Nana. She was the only member of his family that he had loved. When he was little, she would hug him and tell him how wonderful and smart he was. He would sit up on her kitchen stool listening to her stories and licking the mixing bowl. At holiday time when he was older, he would help her cook just so he could stay away from the rest of the family. Sometimes she would let him sneak a swallow of champagne in one of these very same glasses. Shhh, she would say, with her finger to her lips. It'll just be our secret. She was his refuge. God, how he missed her. How nice it would be if he could talk to her now about certain confusions in his life, especially about one particular red head. He sighed.
"Thanks. I'm sure they'll fit in perfectly with my décor." He answered sarcastically.
After his mother left, he carefully rewrapped the glass and shoved the bag in the corner against the wall.
The bright red mechanical Santa sitting on Caroline's coffee table swayed its hips back and forth while "Jingle Bells Rock" emanated loudly from his fat belly. Richard just stood and stared at it expressionlessly.
"Cute, isn't he?" Caroline asked with a smile, swiveling around in her chair.
Richard shook his head and walked back to the desk. "Caroline, that miniature monstrosity is a symbol of how far our culture has degenerated. The idea of Christmas has sunk to nothing more than crass commercialism and monetary gain. This is the time of year when the advertising section of the newspaper is twice as heavy as the news. The Christmas decorations are put out before Halloween and everywhere the message is that you're supposed to feel love and goodwill just because it's the twenty fifth day of December."
"Well, bah-humbug to you, too." She replied brightly. "He was just an impulse buy. Fifty percent off," she added with a laugh.
"Oh, well, in that case, why didn't you buy two?"
"Actually, Richard, I agree with you about the spirit of Christmas disappearing. Soooo..." she ran over to the kitchen counter and held up a video. "I rented 'A Christmas Carol.' I thought we could kick off early since its Christmas Eve. I even put together something to eat. How about it?"
Oh no, not again. Richard got up from his chair and headed towards the door. "I don't think so, Caroline. I'm sure I've got something better to do than watch tiny Tim."
Caroline pulled out a large platter of cheeses, deli meats, cookies and crackers and held it in front of him. Richard halted, glancing down at it.
"Wow. Is that brie?" he asked, peering a little closer. Caroline nodded. Richard hesitated, debating. He would have to blame it on his stomach once again. "A Christmas Carol, huh?"
"It's the version with George C. Scott, my favorite. I passed up Mr. Magoo's Christmas. I knew you wouldn't like that one."
"You know me so well." He followed her over to the couch. One little video and food shouldn't hurt. He could still be unavailable afterwards.
"Okay, movie's over. I'm out of here." Richard got up and picked up his coat.
"Richard, why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow? My parents will be here and so will Annie and Del."
"No thanks, Caroline. I plan on spending the day alone, painting." He was standing next to the door, pulling on the handle.
"But you can't really want to be alone on Christmas. That's so depressing."
"Maybe for you it is because you need other people. I don't."
"Richard, everybody needs someone. Even you." She said softly. She debated pleading with him but one look at his set face and she knew it was useless to argue with him. And whatever happened to her resolve to back off for a while? Maybe she could make that her New Year's Eve resolution. "At least let me give you your Christmas gift. It was too big to wrap so it's upstairs." She started up the stairs.
"Caroline...Caroline, no present. We agreed, remember? I couldn't afford anything this year because I didn't find a second job and my rent went up."
"Richard, I got you something because I wanted to, not because I expected anything in return."
Richard looked down at the floor and then up at her. Why did she have to make his life so difficult? Couldn't she just let him be?
"No thank you, Caroline. See you in a few days." He walked resolutely to the elevator and pushed the button.
Caroline stuck her head out of her door. "Hey, Richard." He turned around. "God bless us, every one." She mimicked tiny Tim and grinned at him as the elevator door closed. He just rolled his eyes.
Richard stared at the blank canvas trying to find inspiration. His mind was just as blank. He rooted around in his kitchenette trying to find the bottle of wine he had opened a few weeks ago. One swig told him that it had probably been a little longer than that. Oh, well, it wasn't too bad. He sat on his bed, drinking the sour wine out of the bottle and thinking about Caroline. Most of the night he had felt her eyes on him. Maybe it was just his imagination because every time he turned to look at her, she appeared to be concentrating on the movie. But he had noticed this habit of hers a lot lately. He just couldn't figure out how to stop it.
Even though it was early, he felt tired. Maybe it was the wine or maybe he was coming down with another horrible cold or even the latest influenza going around. Now that he had been sick once, he figured he was a sitting duck for all the other viruses out there just waiting to strike. He lay down on the bed, just for a few minutes, he told himself. Then he would try to paint again. He could feel the room spinning and tilting slightly clockwise. The wine was a mistake. He really just wanted to get up and be sick in the bathroom but he couldn't move. He could feel himself drifting off.
Something bumped the chair in the middle of the room. He opened his eyes to find he wasn't the only one in his apartment.
"Shelley?" He managed to gasp out her name and nothing else. She was clothed in a long, diaphanous gown with a gaudy, glittery crown stuck in her hair.
"Hey, Richard. How's my ex-boyfriend? I've missed you." Shelley clapped her hand over her mouth, giggling. She moved towards the bed. Richard recoiled from her in fear. "Wow, I see you still have that angry yang. You should let me try that acupuncture on you. I've gotten better at it. I hardly ever hit a vein now." She stared at him wide eyed. "Richard, are you alright?"
"Shelley, what are you doing in my apartment? How did you get in?" He said hoarsely and breathing heavily.
"Sil-lly! How can you ask me that? You know I'm the spirit of Christmas past. At least" she giggled again, "that's what the boss told me. So, here's what I'm supposed to tell you." She reached into a pocket of her flowing dress and pulled out a piece of paper. Clearing her throat dramatically, she began, "I am the spirit of Christmas Past." She glanced up at him. "See, told you so."
She continued. "I am here to escort you back in time to your own childhood so you can remember why you want to be alone and to show you what your life will become if you continue on the path you have chosen." She finished, sighed loudly and looked up again. "Okay, to do this, you have to hold my hand." She reached out to him. He didn't move.
"You're so funny!" She cooed as if to a small infant. "Don't be afraid, Richard. It won't hurt a bit, I promise."
"That's what you said about the acupuncture." He didn't know why but he reached up and grabbed her extended hand. She giggled again.
"Shelley, did I ever mention that I was Jewish?"
Everything was dark for a few moments then Richard found himself standing in a familiar room. Thirty children sat in neat rows facing the teacher at the front of the class.
"Oh my god! It's my first grade classroom." Richard exclaimed.
"Cool! It really worked." Shelley giggled again, highly pleased with herself.
The class was in the middle of a question and answer session. One small girl was standing and taking her turn.
"....a bicycle and a doll and a magic bake oven." She smiled broadly as the rest of the class applauded. The teacher looked around the classroom.
"Now, who have we missed? Wait a minute...Ritchie Karinsky, it's your turn to tell the class what Santa brought you for Christmas." All eyes turned to one small blond headed boy wearing heavy framed glasses. The children sitting in front of him turned around and gave him their full attention. Someone snickered.
"Let's leave, Shelley. Right now, please." Richard sounded a little nervous.
"Shhh. I want to hear what he says."
"Shelley, I've already lived through this once, why do I have to relive it?"
"Did I mention that they can't see or hear us? Isn't that cool?" Shelley absently commented.
The teacher repeated her question. "Richard, please stand up and tell your classmates what Santa brought you for Christmas." There were several moments of silence.
Young Richard slowly stood up, his blond hair falling in his eyes. He impatiently brushed it aside and pushed his glasses higher up his nose with his index finger. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. His teacher began impatiently tapping one foot.
Finally he spoke. "Nothing."
"What did you say? I didn't hear you." His teacher was getting angrier now.
He spoke up. "Nothing. I didn't get anything for Christmas." Amid the loud laughter from the other children, little Richard suddenly shouted, "I hate Christmas. It's stupid anyway."
"Now Richard, stop that right now. Christmas is not stupid." His teacher was shouting, too. "I think you need to go to the principal right now."
"Shelley, I want to leave NOW."
Shelley was staring sadly at little Ritchie being led from the classroom. "Oh, the poor widdle boy. It wasn't his fault."
"Yeah, yeah, Shelley. I got over it." Richard was looking away from the painful scene. Shelley reached out and took his hand. In an instant it was dark followed by blinding light and music. They were in a large living room. The place was full of teenagers laughing, dancing and eating. A few of the couples were scattered in dark corners, necking and groping. Richard knew instantly where he was.
"Susan Johnson's Christmas party. I was a freshman in high school. I had a crush on Susan. I remember thinking that she liked me too when she invited me to her house. Until I found her in a corner with Bradley Dunton."
"Richard, you big silly boy. Everyone has crushes."
"But I made the mistake of telling Bradley. You should have seen he and the other guys laughing at me."
As they watched, a young blond teenager with glasses and teenage acne hesitantly walked across the room towards a vivacious young blonde girl who was surrounded by her peers. Bradley, seeing this, moved from the other side of the room towards Susan. Putting his arm around her, he leaned down and kissed her. Young Richard froze. The expression on his face plainly showed his hurt.
"As you can see, Christmas has not been a good holiday for me. All I learned was not to ever reveal how I felt about anyone. But all that is over. It doesn't matter anymore."
"But..."
"I know what you're trying to do. Just like Ebenezer Scrooge, I'm supposed to change my evil ways. Well, it isn't going to happen, Shelley. I just want to go back to bed. Now."
"Okay, Richard. But you're just a big poopie head." She took his hand. Instantly, they were back in his room. Shelley glanced above her head.
"Oh look! Mistletoe!" She giggled at Richard and said brightly, "Good-bye." She disappeared in an instant. Richard kept staring at the spot, expecting her to reappear. When she didn't he lay back down on his bed. He kept muttering to himself that it must have been the wine.
As he felt himself drifting off again, he realized two things. One, there was no mistletoe hanging in his apartment and two, he still thought Christmas was stupid.
He just needed some sleep. He turned over and curled up on his side. Suddenly, someone was tugging on his arm. He opened his eyes, sat up in shock and immediately pulled a sheet up to cover his bare chest.
"Mrs. Spadaro? Where did you come from?"
"Dear, just call me Angie. I came from Paramus on the number 2 bus, then a transfer at..."
"I meant, how did you get in my dream?" he interrupted her.
"Well, I just don't know for sure but maybe it's because you really need a mother. You know what, I should make you another lasagna. You're looking a little too thin. And I bet you're working too hard. I'm a mother, I know these things." He wasn't sure what the psychological meaning was behind his dreaming about Angie Spadaro. He didn't want to know.
"Oh god, it must have been the Brie. That stuff is just too rich for me. Maybe if I just shut my eyes and think of something else, my dream will change." He muttered to himself.
"Now, Richard, I can't go away just yet. I have a job to do. Part-time but the pay is pretty good. I need the money to pay for my own apartment. I can't keep living with Annie. Do you know how many visitors she has?"
"I have a small idea. So what is your new job? Doing my laundry again?"
"My new job is to show you the Christmas of the present. So, dear, hold my hand and we'll be on our way."
Richard held out his hand in speechless amazement.
Everything went dark. In the next second, Richard found himself in Caroline's brightly lit dining room completely decked out with Christmas decorations. Her table was loaded with turkey and all the trimmings. Del was sitting on one side apparently with a date, Annie on the other side and Mr. Duffy was at one end, sharpening a knife in preparation to carve up the turkey. Mrs. Duffy and Caroline were bustling around her kitchen putting together last minute details.
"It's too bad I had to work tonight. I was invited you know." Angie sniffed.
Richard moved back around the corner as if to hide.
"Don't worry, dear. They can't see or hear us."
Caroline and Mrs. Duffy walked back into the dining room with several more dishes and sat down. Annie reached up and lit the candles. Mr. Duffy immediately started a blessing for the food. Everyone bowed their heads while Del groped his date's leg under the table.
"So Caroline, where is that assistant of yours? Robert, Ronald?" Mrs. Duffy was searching her memory for his name.
"Richard, Mom. He said he had other things to do today. I did invite him." Caroline looked a little sad as she stared down at her plate.
"Well, I hope he's spending it with his family. A person needs family, I always say. Don't you agree, Bill?"
"Sure thing, dumpling. Okay, who wants a leg? Caroline, do you want white or dark meat, puddin'?"
Del was helping himself to sausage and sage dressing. "I'm glad Richard didn't show up. He's a total drag to be around. A real mood killer. I bet the guy has no friends."
Annie chimed in. "He doesn't want any friends. He's a loner. I say let's just let him be alone and enjoy dinner without him."
"Richard is not a bad person to be around. He's just ...different, that's all. I think, underneath that cynical exterior, is a very sweet and sensitive man. I think he has a lot of possibilities if he just..." Caroline paused, not sure of what she wanted to say. She was conscious of everyone staring at her and she still wasn't eating anything.
"If he just had a lobotomy?" Annie finished for her. "Sounds good to me." Del laughed.
Mrs. Duffy just shook her head in sadness.
"My Annie doesn't really mean half the things she says, you know. And Caroline...she always sticks up for you doesn't she? I'm sure she's in love with you."
"No, Mrs. Spadaro, she's not in love with me. You only said that because this is my dream and I wanted you to." Richard said sadly. "Annie and Del are right. I have no friends. I don't trust anyone and probably never will. It's better this way."
"Just because you had a unhappy childhood and have always been alone, doesn't mean you have to be alone all your life. Things can change, dear."
Richard just shook his head. "Could you take me home? I really need to get some sleep tonight."
Mrs. Spadaro looked concerned. "Oh dear, I hope I did my job right. I mean, I wouldn't want to be fired or anything." She began clucking her tongue and speaking in Italian.
"Mrs. Spadaro, Mrs. Spadaro, Angie..." Richard finally got her attention. "I'm sure you won't lose your job. I just want to go home, okay?" Angie reached out and grabbed his hand. Immediately darkness surrounded him. As he stared, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and familiar objects in his own room replaced his vision. He sighed in relief. Maybe he was having a mental breakdown. Not that anyone would care if he did. He lay back down on his bed hoping for a dreamless sleep this time.
A door slammed.
Richard bolted upright in bed. The woman standing next to him had dark curly hair and an expression to match. The elevator lady. At least, that's how he had mentally labeled her. He never knew her real name. She was Caroline's neurotic, sullen and man-hating upstairs neighbor. They always seemed to meet in the elevator. If he was dreaming about her, he must be downright masochistic.
"Hey. You. Wake up." She was standing with her arms crossed, glaring at him and kicking the end of the bed with her foot. Richard was speechless. Even if he wasn't, he wouldn't have had a chance against this woman.
"I'm the ghost of Christmas future, yada, yada, yada. Let's get this over. I don't have all night, ya know. Do you think I enjoy this?"
Richard was still speechless.
The elevator lady muttered to herself. "Does anyone really care if I have to work the night shift? No. And why should Shelley get to work the early shift anyway? Why is she so special? I'll tell you why. She kisses up to the boss, that's why. Typical man...what a sap." She snorted angrily, stamping her foot.
Out of all this run-on torrent of complaints, Richard confused brain managed to fixate on one thing. "You know Shelley?"
"Look, I'm already behind schedule. Let's go. Unfortunately we have to hold hands for this." She shuttered and extended her pinkie finger with distaste. Richard hesitated. He wasn't sure which he feared most, going anyplace with the woman or facing her anger when he refused. He chose to go, gingerly holding her finger. Anything to be able to sleep the rest of the night.
The surrounding darkness was immediately replaced with dim lighting in a small room. Chairs were set up facing one end of a room tastefully decorated with pastel wallpaper and navy blue carpet. Floral bouquets were located by several doors. Richard took all this in in one glance but it was the object located at the far end of the room that caught his full attention. A large expensive looking casket lay with its top open. Numerous bouquets and floral arrangements surrounded it as well as original paintings. Richard felt as if his feet were rooted to the spot.
"Look, can't we just get this over with? I've got better things to do than pull you around by the hand."
Richard gulped. "No, I can't look. It can't be her. Please no."
The elevator lady was getting impatient. "How come I get stuck with the wimp?"
She pushed Richard in the direction of the casket. He half stumbled down the aisle. With an unspeakable dread, he slowly approached the coffin. To his surprise, he was looking down at ...himself. Well, the deceased was himself but maybe in about another ten years or so. There was graying around the temples and wrinkles on his face that were still in the future.
He looked around the empty room. "When does the service begin?"
"It already has." The elevator lady was examining her nails and looking bored.
"But where is everybody?"
"This is it. I read that you finally became famous and made a lot of money but lived alone. I guess you never had any friends. If you ask me, friends are definitely over-rated."
Richard looked shocked. His funeral and no one bothered to show up. Suddenly the rear door opened. A familiar figure walked slowly down the aisle towards the coffin. It was Caroline dressed in black, looking older and worn. The sparkle and happiness he always associated with her was gone and had been replaced with weariness. She slowly approached the coffin with tears running down her cheeks. She stood over his body for some time, then reached out and laid her palm against his still cheek.
"Richard..." She whispered and couldn't say anymore.
Richard couldn't stand her unhappiness. It wasn't right. Caroline should never have to feel this way, especially about him. He stepped closer to her. "Caroline, it's okay. I'm not dead. This is some kind of stupid joke. Please don't cry." Caroline just stared down at his body.
"She can't hear you, remember?" The elevator lady snorted with disgust. "What a moron."
Caroline turned and sat down in a chair in the first row. She sat and cried even harder. "Why did you have to leave?" she whispered. Richard had never felt so helpless.
The rear door snapped open again.
This time, a well-dressed gentleman strode down the aisle towards Caroline. He stood over her, glancing only once towards the coffin.
"Caroline, what's taking you so long? You know I have a surgery to perform in the morning and the children are waiting for you at home. Let's go." He sounded impatient.
Caroline looked up at him in tears, nodding her head.
"Why are you crying? I thought you got over that jerk years ago." He said angrily. "Come on, I said let's go." This time he griped her roughly by her upper arm and pulled her towards him and up the aisle. Caroline gave one look behind her and then disappeared through the door.
"Wow, she married a doctor. Probably with a six figure income, too. She couldn't have done any better." The elevator lady managed to look jealous and respectful at the same time.
"Yes, she could have." Richard commented sadly.
"Hey, there's nothing else out there. Believe me." The elevator lady turned around and headed up the aisle after them. "I'm outta here. I've got things to do, like find a date, get married, have kids, get a huge mortgage I can't really afford..." Her voice wandered off.
"Hey, don't leave me here. Take me back. I don't want to be left alone." Richard said to her retreating back but to no avail. She kept walking away. "Hey, I mean it, I don't want to be alone. Can you hear me?" He was yelling at the top of his lungs now. He rushed after her but something caught at his feet and legs, entangling him and pulling him towards the coffin containing his still body.
"Hey, buddy, I'm sure the whole building can hear you and we don't care. Shut the hell up." The pounding coming from the next apartment stopped. Richard found himself flat on the floor next to his bed, his sheets wound around his ankles. The early morning sun managed to sneak one ray through the neon sign hanging across his dirty window and into his eyes, temporarily blinding him. He slowly untangled himself. It was morning.
He had somehow made it through the night in one piece. And he was alone. Just as he wanted. He sat on the floor in the middle of his apartment and listened to the silence. The once comforting absence of sound now bothered him. He could feel the walls closing in on him, smothering him. He thought of Caroline. He knew, without a doubt, that she would be a life long friend if he wanted her to be. Would that really be such a bad thing? He couldn't think of one other person in his life that could make that same claim. It was trying to separate the friendship from the strong attraction he felt for her that was the hardest.
Wondering what day it was since he felt like Rip Wan Winkle, he cautiously opened his door and walked over to a neighbor's apartment. He looked down at the newspaper lying in front of the door to find the date. December 25th. He gave a sigh of relief. He hadn't missed Christmas day.
Back in his apartment, he picked up the telephone and dialed Caroline's number. A recording telling him that all circuits were busy played in his ear. He needed to see her anyway, to make sure she was all right, to see her smiling face. He quickly changed clothes. He had his hand on the doorknob when it suddenly occurred to him. A gift. He needed to take her a gift. He wanted to give her something. But nothing was going to be open on Christmas day and even if a store was open, he had no money.
He looked around his room desperately, his eyes falling on the bag in the corner. He ran over and pulled it out into the center of the room. Kneeling down, he removed the five glasses from his grandmother that still remained intact. Removing the newspaper from one, he held it up in the low lighting. Twirling it between his thumb and index finger, it caught and reflected the light back across the room like rays of fire. Perfect. He knew she would love them.
Rewrapping it in the newspaper, he searched around for a box big enough for all five. Finding just what he needed, he dumped out the paints and brushes on the floor and repacked it. He stared down at the ugly box. Wrapping paper, he needed wrapping paper. Looking around again, he smiled to himself. Yes, perfect. He wound the paper around the box just so and fastened it with a length of twine. He looked at the box with satisfaction and left his apartment.
The walk to Caroline's was long and cold but he didn't mind today. He could only picture her desolate face soaked with tears and it made him hurry. Arriving at her building, he stepped in the elevator just as the elevator lady did. They looked at each other and Richard stepped back from her as far as he could into the corner. She crossed her arms and eyed him disdainfully up to the second floor. Richard flew out of the elevator on the second floor, swearing he would take the stairs from now on.
Knocking on Caroline's door, he rocked back and forth nervously waiting for her to answer. The door opened, framing her in the opening. At first surprised, she now smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. Dressed in a faded oversize sweatshirt with a smudge of flour across one cheek and not a bit of makeup, she looked absolutely beautiful. He felt overjoyed that she was her usual self but carefully kept his expression blank. Just like he always did.
"Richard! Hi. Is everything alright?" Now she was concerned since a visit from him was decidedly unexpected.
"Um, yeah. Fine. I just, uh, wanted to come over and ..." Richard was searching desperately for the right thing to say. "...give you this." He handed her the box.
"Wow, Richard, I don't know what to say. I didn't expect anything. It's really nice to see you today." She wasn't looking at the present, just at him. Suddenly she remembered how she was dressed and looked self-conscious.
"Oh, I guess I should change. I got up early to put the turkey in the oven for dinner."
"Caroline, you look fine. Why don't you open the present?"
Caroline walked into her living room with Richard trailing behind. She set the present down on the coffee table and took a closer look at it. She laughed out loud at the sight of the Sunday comics wrapped around a box. Her 'Caroline in the City' strip was prominently displayed across the top of the package.
"I love it. This is great." Smiled up at him again as she unwrapped it. Reaching into the box for one of the glasses, she unwrapped the paper around it and held her breath. Both watched as she twirled the stem of the glass between her thumb and index finger, the captured light throwing thousands of rainbows around the room.
"Oh, Richard. These are beautiful. But..." Her looks of awe were replaced with confusion. He understood without hearing the question.
"They belonged to my grandmother. She passed away several years ago and my mother gave them to me. I want you to have them." He hesitated for a moment. "Merry Christmas, Caroline."
"Richard, I can't take these. They're part of you, part of your past."
"I want you to have them." He repeated himself. "I can't think of a better place for them."
The way she looked at him made him tingle right down to his toes. He cleared his throat nervously, looking in all directions but hers.
"Well, I guess I should go home now."
Caroline started. "No, don't go, Richard. I have something for you." She ran quickly up the stairs. Coming back down was slower, since she was struggling with a large easel and a wooden box. Richard looked at them with open-mouthed surprise. She caught his expression.
"I saw you looking at this in the window of the art store one day." She explained a little embarrassed. "I hope you like it." He opened the wooden box, revealing a full set of brushes and paint tubes. She could tell by the look on his face that he loved it.
"Please stay for dinner, Richard. There will be a lot of us, but it shouldn't be too awful. Please stay. I want you to stay today, okay." She was begging again.
"You sure you have room for one more at the table?" His question took her completely by surprise. She hadn't expected him to give in so easily.
"Yes, of course I do." Caroline put her hand around his and looked up into his eyes. Every time she touched him, he felt a sudden terror mixed with something else. He had to back away out of this. He needed to breath.
"So, what are you making for dinner?" Richard had pulled his hand away, jumped up and was sauntering towards the kitchen. Caroline followed him.
"Well, I was just starting the dressing for the turkey. What do you think, allspice?" She held up a small spice container with a grin.
"Here, let me." Looking slightly disgusted, he picked up a knife and started chopping celery. "I need fresh basil, parsley, anything but no allspice."
"Yes, sir." She said with amusement and reached into the refrigerator for the ingredients. Laying them on the counter next to him, she stepped back, smiling and watched him take over her kitchen.
Continued in Chapter 8