A Lost Christmas Eve Part 3

Ben rode his bike down to 'B' Street which had multiple shopping venues. While it was still gloomy out with dark clouds it had stopped raining. Ben could sense that it was quickly getting colder, as he watched the vapor escape as he exhaled. He didn't care though he had to get Ms. Young a gift.

He quickly locked up his bike, and began looking through numerous window displays. He didn't have much time, and he didn't have much money. $75 wasn't bad normally, but Ms. Young was a woman, and she was sophisticated. He didn't want to come off as some dumb ass kid giving her some kind of puppy love gift. As he thought about it he realized again how serious things had gotten. It made him feel good, but it scared him as well. How long could they hide this? Could they really keep this secret till he was 18? Would he want to be with her in a year? He had already badly miscalculated at the home coming dance. He sighed thinking how complicated it had become.

Ben spotted a rare books store, and walked up to the window. He had walked by it a million times, but never thought twice about it. "Damn it's cold. What the hell," he said to himself as he entered the store. He had no idea what he'd find, but he was getting desperate now. It looked like a typical bookstore with numerous aisles full of books. There were a few patrons inspecting the store's selection. Ben rubbed his freezing hands together and exhaled on them trying to heat them up. "What am I looking for," he questioned as he began walking through the aisles. "What," he continued thinking? "Poems, maybe? Where, where…"

"Hello can I help you," asked a woman's voice.

Ben turned in the direction of the voice. There was a young woman standing in a Navy blue business suit. "Whoa," he whispered. She was beautiful, long wavy blond hair, blue eyed, and of slender build. Ben was always very nervous around girls he was attracted to. "Uh…, yeah," he walked towards her, "I'm looking for a book of poems. I'm looking for a Christmas gift."

She stuck her hand out, "I'm Rachel."

Ben timidly shook her hand, and cleared his throat. "Ben," he blurted out.

"Ok Ben, poems, sounds good. Follow me down this way" she waved her arm as she said it.

Ben followed her down an aisle, and he couldn't help but watch her every move. C'mon Ben – concentrate - he thought to himself. You're not supposed to be thinking about other girls while shopping for your own girlfriend's Christmas gift. He hit himself to focus.

She stopped and turned, "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, sorry I tripped back there," he nervously answered. "Be an adult you idiot," he scolded himself under his breath.

"Ok, here we go," she said as she waved her hand over a section of the aisle. She started rattling off a half dozen poet's names that Ben had never heard of. "Most are in excellent condition, but we do have restorers on call if the book needs a new binding, or cleaning."

He didn't know what to say so he just winged it. "Oh, that's great. So you're into books?" It sounded so lame the second he heard himself say it.

She thought for a second. "Uh, well my parents own the store so I'm here to help them during the holiday season. I've grown up with rare books so yeah I guess so." Ben had nothing else to say and looked at the floor. "All right, well you enjoy browsing Ben, and if you need help just yell." She smiled and walked to another aisle.

"Idiot," he whispered as he smacked his forehead. Ben started flipping through books. Book after book he went through, but he simply wasn't sure what she would like – or hate. Ben wasn't much of a poem person anyway. He wasn't sure what was good, or bad, "I have no clue what I'm doing." He couldn't screw this up he thought, It had to be perfect.

Ms. Young pulled out of the store parking lot into traffic. While it was still dark and gloomy out there, the rain had stopped. Ms. Young accelerated down the road thinking about how close that was running into Dino Whitman's mother. Even more amazing was that Annie recognized Ms. Young. Monica didn't remember ever meeting her, but they must of. Ms. Young suddenly realized the light up ahead had gone yellow. She didn't think she could break in time, especially with the wet roadway. She went for it and raced through the light. She anxiously looked in all her mirrors for any sign of the police. "Nothing. Your dangerous Monica," she said looking at herself in her review mirror. While she waited at the next stop light she decided to call her mother to let her know she was on her way. As she dialed she suddenly heard the high pitch wine, and short chirps of a police siren. The cop hit the siren for a second or two to get her attention. She knew instantly she was busted. Ms. Young looked up slowly at her review mirror to see a police car with its lights flickering rapidly.

Over the police car's loud speaker a male voice commanded, "Driver in the yellow VW, pull over to the right."

"I got the message," she yelled as she waved her hand out the window. "How embarrassing." The light changed and she went through the intersection. She quickly pulled over to the right by a small strip mall. This would be her third ticket this year, and she couldn't believe it, the year was almost over. She would have to charm her way out of this. Ms. Young tugged on her baby blue jacket sleeve, and adjusted her scarf. She then looked in her review mirror to check herself, "Eyes, eyes, yes, hair, hair, good. Lip gloss," she immediately went through her purse and found it. After applying the gloss she looked in her side mirror to find out were the cop was. "Here he comes," she quietly said.

The police offer walked up in his blue uniform as his radio squawked. "Bravo two five, copy." The officer scanned the car's interior, and then focused on Ms. Young. "License and registration please." he asked in a monotone voice.

With her brightest smile on she said, "Hello officer. Did I do something wrong?" The charm offensive was on.

"You ran a red light back there," he stated.

"Oh no. You're kidding officer? I'm sure it was yellow," she happily declared.

"License and registration ma'am." The officer was watching traffic as he said it.

Ms. Young was pissed off about the dmn ma'am comment. That was the second time today she thought, I'm only 23 for Christ sake. She quickly went through her wallet and retrieved her driver's license. "Here," she said in annoyed voice as she handed it to him.

"Registration ma'am?"

She sighed, and reached for the glove compartment. She quickly found it, and handed it to the officer. "I still feel you are mistaken; it was yellow when I went through."

The officer shifted his stance. "Ma'am, normally I would let the camera on that particular signal send you your ticket in the mail. But your actions where so blatant I decided to pull you over and give you a warning." He stared at her for a moment. He continued, "Before you injure a pedestrian, or another motorist, and yourself. Do you know what the fine is for running a red light?" She actually did since she had received one seven months ago. Ms. Young was used to dealing out these stern lectures, but not receiving them. The charm offensive was an utter failure in only thirty seconds. The officer looked at her more closely, and then at her I.D. He adjusted his cap and asked, "Monica Young?"

"Yes."

"Barry, Barry Jensen," he smiled as he pointed to himself.

"Oh my God! Barry I didn't recognize you." Barry was her boyfriend's best friend in college. She always knew he had a crush on her, and for a time she had one on him.

"My God; I can't believe I didn't recognize you. I didn't know you lived in the city. You look great."

Ms. Young liked hearing that and smiled. "Thank you. You look good in your uniform there," she looked him up and down as she said it. "Weren't you a journalism major?"

"That's right. I was freelancing on an article about the city's police force, and I found the work fascinating. I joined the academy, and scored high. Next thing you know I'm a cop."

"You look happy," she stated.

"Yeah I am." He changed his smile to a serious expression. "I heard about you, and Danny breaking up…I'm sorry." He looked down at the roadway feeling sad."

She looked up at the sky, "Oh that's all right, he left me, and I've moved on. I'm doing good…really."

"So did you ever become an English teacher?"

"Oh my God you remember those stupid late night conversations," she laughed as she questioned him.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds he just continued to look into her eyes. "I remember all of my conversations with you. And none of them were stupid."

Whoa, Ms. Young thought to herself. He clearly still had feelings for her. He really did look good in that uniform too. Change the subject she thought, as she batted her eyes, "That's nice of you to say that Barry. I am a high school English teacher; at school right around here."

"Really? That sounds great. So you live around here?"

"You already looked at my I.D. Barry." She knew he was fishing for personal information, but she was flattered.

He handed it back to her along with the registration. "Oh yeah. Well you can't blame a guy for trying, right?" He ended his sentence with a large grin.

She laughed as she replaced her driver's license in her wallet. "Ah, I remember you delinquents in that fraternity, with all your stupid pick up lines." They both laughed remembering their college days.

"It seems so long ago doesn't it," he wondered out loud.

Ms. Young gazed at the traffic going by while she thought about his question. Still gazing, and in a defeated tone she answered, "Yes it does."

Sheepishly Barry said, "So you do live around here."

She smiled and looked at him. Then she suddenly displayed an irritated expression as she thought about her mother. "Yes I do. Unfortunately I live with my mother," she responded with an equally irritated voice. Before he could ask she continued, "I have some financial issues, and well I'm kind of stuck with the situation right now. I know it's sad." She gave a helpless look as she finished.

Concerned Barry asked, "So how's that going?"

In a sarcastic voice she replied, "Can I borrow your gun?"

Barry chuckled hard as he searched through his jacket, "That good huh?" Still laughing he pulled a business card out of his notebook, and began writing on it.

Again with a helpless look on her face, "Barry?"

"Yeah," he looked up from his notebook.

"Is there anyway you can take care of that red light problem?" She grimaced as she asked feeling a little guilty.

"Consider it done."

She made a large smile, "Oh thank, thank you. You are really saving my ss here; you don't know how much..."

"…one condition though," he declared. She quickly stopped her celebration, and had a blank expression. "Slow down, and back off the yellow lights."

"I will I promise, thank you again."

Barry leaned towards her and handed her his card. "Here's my card, with my home phone number on the back. Give me a call some time, and we'll have a beer. In fact I'm free tonight." He grinned knowing that wasn't going work.

"Ah, thank you for the offer, really, but I have plans tonight." Concerned she asked, "You're not celebrating Christmas Eve?"

"Na, not this year. I guess I'm solo this holiday."

"Oh, I'm sorry Barry."

"No, no, don't worry about it. I'll survive. You enjoy the holiday, and give me call soon." He waved to her as he walked back to his car. Ms. Young sat there for a second, smiling, as she thought how nice that was. Suddenly she remembered her mother and the airport. She frantically looked at her watch, "Dmn. I'm going to be late."

Ben had sifted through more than a dozen books, and nothing satisfied him. He really had no idea what he was doing, but he did know he couldn't screw it up. He sighed as he put a book back in its place.

"Everything all right?"

Ben looked up, "Oh, uh…"

"Rachel," she responded sensing he had forgotten her name.

"Yeah, Rachel." He sighed, "This just isn't working."

"Oh I'm sorry." She could see he was frustrated, and thought to herself for a second. "Does this gift have to be a book?"

"No, it doesn't."

"What kind budget are we looking at?"

Ben sighed again, "I have 75 bucks on me."

She started repositioning a book. "Can I ask who this gift is for?"

Timidly he answered, "It's for my girlfriend; she's into books, and wants to be an English teacher…some day."

"Ok let's go to the front. I think I have something. Once at the front desk, she immediately started searching through it. Ben looked out the window of the door to check the weather, and saw that it wasn't raining. "Here they are," she dragged out what Ben thought was a brief case. As she opened it Ben could see the case lined in red velvet he thought, and contained a row of knives. She sat down, and pulled one out of its slot. "These are silver plated letter openers, not expensive, but nice quality. They each have William Shakespeare's family crest, here on the end of the handle." She handed it to Ben, and he intensely inspected it. It looked beautiful, and it didn't seem like a kiddi-ish gift. This was a better idea than anything he had come up with.

"Rachel…if your boyfriend gave this to you would you think it was a proper Christmas gift?"

"Well I'm obviously biased since I'm trying to sell you on this. If you are into literature it's a cute little collectable, something you may find in an antique shop. Sure, I would enjoy it. I think the most important part is that it showed some thought went into the gift, and you took the time to think about her. That will probably mean more to her than the gift itself."

"Yeah, ok, this is good." Ben grimaced, "So how much are we talking here?"

"Don't worry; it's only going to cost you $43." She placed the opener in a box very similar to a jewelry box, and then a bag. Ben handed her the money, and he took the bag.

"Thank you so much Rachel. It was nice meeting you." He headed for the door.

"Merry Christmas Ben"

"Merry Christmas."