As Bert, who was dressed in clothing of an era that dated her even more than her bouffant hairdo Roger held up a finger. "You're an illusion. You're a collection of neurons firing in my brain as my body dies. You're not real!" He argued.
"You're wasting your own time here Roger, as we have established I'm already dead."
"Exactly, which is why you can't be here. He closed his eyes. When I turn around I'm going to see my body in the driver's seat. It's going to be bent and broken and then I will be escorted to the gates of hell."
Roger closed his eyes and counted as promised. Only when he turned around he didn't see himself in the seat, he saw emptiness. He walked backwards, falling into a snow drift. When he pushed himself upward he swore unceremoniously.
"Are you done?" Bert asked, arms folded over her ample chest. "Come, sit, I have much to tell you but not a lot of time to do it in. We only have until midnight."
As Roger stood he eyed her curiously. "Midnight? The stroke of the witching hour on Christmas. Forgive me Bert, but Dickens already wrote a Christmas Carol and while some may compare me to Scrooge there isn't anything in my past or future that will cause me to be a changed man."
Bert lifted her eyebrows and tensed her lips. "Suit yourself." She sat quietly on the log, waiting. Finally the suspense got to Roger as she knew it would.
"Alright, fine. If I'm dying I may as well make it quick" Roger sat heavily on the log.
"While this is a little Dickens like, I promise there won't be three additional ghosts, you're stuck with me."
"Great, I'm going to hell," Roger muttered.
"Not quite yet, Roger. If that is however the path you decide it won't be me who guides you there."
Roger's eyes got wide. "Who then? Stanley Norris? I think I'd rather live in a continuous loop of Ed dropping me over a cliff."
Bert was indigent then "He didn't drop you Roger, you slipped. Now, are you ready to continue?"
"The floor is yours."
"We will be visiting several points in the past, present and future. When we are done the choice will be yours. You can go back to your life, and try to convince Holly that you are a changed man, or you can choose to give up and die as was your intent when you sped away from your home this morning."
Roger gasped. "How did you know that?"
"I told you, I'm dead, but I'm always watching. Consider me the shadow, Roger. Only I know both the good and the evil that lurk in the hearts of men, and as much as it pains me to admit this, you've shown more good than evil as of late."
"Alright, enough with this confession. Let's get on with, well, whatever this is."
Bert nodded curtly. "Fine, now, when I tell you to take my hand you do so without question. Do you understand?" She didn't wait for him to acknowledge "Second, you can observe, but you can't be heard or seen. Whatever happens is what has already, or will happen. Do you understand?" This time she waited, but he didn't move. "I said, do you understand Roger?"
"Yes," He said, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat.
"Very well, take my hand."
He stared at her reluctantly. He reached out and then pulled back.
"Roger, you need to take my hand"
This time Roger reached out and took it. He closed his eyes. He only opened them when he heard Holly humming, and could feel warmth radiating over his body. While Bert hung back in the corner of the room Roger spun around to take in its 360 degree view.
"Oh my God" He said, taking in the living room of the home he so briefly shared with Holly and his beloved Chrissy. He inhaled deeply. The smell of cookies hung in the air as Christmas music played softly on the radio in the living room. He took an even deeper breath and held it when he saw her, a very young Holly, no more than twenty five, her auburn hair long, and held back by barrettes on either side. He wanted to reach out and touch her cheek but pulled his hand back, not because of Bert's warning that he couldn't be seen or heard but because he was afraid she'd feel him.
She laid a plate of cookies on the table and laid her hands on her hips. She was smiling, but her brown eyes didn't look happy. There was a sadness about them that Roger knew quite well. Holly looked at her watch. Her smile fell as she heard the key in the door. Present day Roger looked up and saw the second ghost of Christmas past, himself, coming through the door. He wore a three piece business suit, and was carrying a bag in one hand and his key in the other.
"Hello Roger," Holly greeted sourly.
Roger entered their living room and looked around. "Where is Chrissy?" He asked when he didn't see or hear his daughter's young voice.
"She's upstairs, trying to take a nap" Holly almost whispered so she wouldn't wake her.
Roger set the bag he had been carrying by the stairs. "Why? It's a little late for a nap isn't it? Were you out when she should have been sleeping?" He demanded.
Holly crossed her arms over her chest. "No, we've been home all day."
"Well then, why is she napping now Holly?" His face changed, his left hand clenched. "Let me guess, you were out today. You took her over to see the good doctor didn't you? Don't lie to me Holly. I told you I won't have him pretending to be her father when she has one right here!"
Holly closed the space between them and laid her hands on his chest. "Roger, please keep your voice down." It was then that she smelled the perfume on him, and it wasn't hers. She pulled away, tears forming in her eyes that she didn't want him to see, but he did.
He went to the brass and class bar that lined the far wall and poured himself a drink. "Answer me damn it, why is Chrissy taking such a late nap if you were here all day." His voice took on an angry tone.
"Why don't you tell me where you've been all day and then perhaps I will tell you how I've spent mine" Holly growled with newfound courage.
"Where have I been?" He slammed his glass onto the bar top causing the bottles to rattle. "I've been at the office, earning a paycheck Holly. Just where in the hell did you think I'd gone?"
Feeling brave Holly ripped the pocket square from his vest and put it to her nose. "From the scent of this I'd say in the bedroom of your latest conquest." She tipped her head towards the bag by the stairs. "Tell me Roger, is that her present? Did you forget to give it to her when you were done?"
His open hand made contact with her cheek in a flash. He hit her with such force that she reeled backwards into the couch. He immediately climbed on top of her and squeezed her upper arms with such force that she knew there would be a bruise the next day. "Get off of me!" She screamed. He slapped her again. "That hurt!" She cried out.
From upstairs the pair could hear their young daughters voice "Mommy, are you ok?" It quivered.
Roger released his grip and put a forefinger over his lips. Slowly he backed up and side stepped to the bottom of the stairs. He opened his arms. "Chrissy, sweetheart. You're Mommy tells me you're to be taking a nap."
Christina, who was now called Blake, jumped into Roger's waiting arms. He turned her in a way that she would be unable to see a trembling and bloodied Holly. "I heard a noise and it scared me," Christina cried.
"I'm sorry, that was Daddy. I was trying to help Mommy with the cookies that Ed brought, and I dropped the plate" He lied easily.
Young Christina tilted her head "Daddy wasn't here, Roger but Grandma was. I helped make the cookies. We are going to put them under the tree for Santa" Her little face lit up "and Mommy says we can leave Rudolph a carrot too."
Roger smiled limply and kissed her temple. "I think that's a fine idea honey, but you need to take a nap first. Why don't you go back upstairs. Mommy will be up to get you soon, ok."
Blake gave him an Eskimo kiss and then hugged his neck. "Ok, see you later" She cooed before he released her on the stairs. He watched silently as she toddled back to her room, the bear she discarded retrieved, and her door shut behind her.
"I told you" Holly said meekly from the couch.
"Shut up." Roger warned, an open hand shown. "I'm going out. I will be home later and you had better make sure my daughter is here when I arrive."
Holly pulled her knees into her chest as she slid further towards the end of the sofa. She wasn't trying to make him angry, but she couldn't allow him to come home to an empty house either. "We've been invited to mothers, remember? Andy and Ken are there too. Everyone wants to see Christina. Then I wanted to take her to see Bert and Freddie. Just for a little bit."
Roger walked back to the sofa, causing Holly to shake. "You're a slut do you know that? Even on Christmas Eve you can't stay away from Bauer. Do you think I'm an idiot? Do you?" He yelled.
He grabbed the collar of Holly's blouse, pulling her towards him. "You can take Christina to your mothers, but if I find out you were anywhere near Bauer and his family this will be the last Christmas you celebrate. Do you understand me?" He released her with force before storming out the front door.
Roger watched as Holly crumpled into a ball, touching her bruised face, and bloodied mouth from where he had hit her. He wanted to go to her, to wrap his arms around her to apologize for his behavior that night and the behavior he knew would come in just a few short months. How could he love her and yet feel the need to hurt her at the same time?
"Take my hand, Roger." Bert said quietly.
"I can't." He whispered, still staring at a broken Holly.
"Take my hand Roger, there is nothing more to see here." Roger swallowed and reached out a few fingers to make contact with Bert.
He assumed they would go back to the site of the crash, but instead they were transported to a living room he had never seen before.
Holly sat on a plush sofa, her legs tucked under her, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her robe. Across from her was a large window with a beautifully decorated tree. Her eyes, Roger noted, were rimmed in red, and her cheeks pink. Roger had seen that look before, only he was sure he hadn't caused it this time, but who had? He looked around the room, he got the impression that they weren't in Springfield, so he was sure it wasn't Ed.
The phone rang, Holly picked it up. She wiped her nose before answering. "Hello" Her voice caught in the back of her throat. Her eyes closed and then rolled when she opened them.
Roger couldn't hear who was on the other side of the conversation but from Holly's demeanor she wasn't pleased.
"It's Christmas Eve, Dietrich"
Her lips formed a tight line across her face.
"No, I don't for a moment believe that you are working. Why don't you just be honest. You're screwing that barely legal secretary of yours, and in order to keep doing so you promised you would spend Christmas Eve with her."
There was a pause, and her tone then changed.
"No, you're right Dietrich. I will spend the day with Christina and my mother. We'll get together for dinner. That's fine. Have a good night."
Holly flipped back into her seat and sighed. A few moments later Blake stormed angrily into the room.
Roger walked towards his young daughter. He had only seen her from a far when she was this young. "Chrissy," He whispered.
"Hi honey" Holly said, trying to hide the fact that she had been crying.
Blake ignored her as she flopped into an adjoining chair.
Holly threw her hands up in the air. "What's wrong now, Christina? Did the housekeeper forget to buy you more shampoo again?"
Blake crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her mother silently.
"Fine, have it your way" Holly dared. "I'm going to bed." She stood and headed out of the room when Blake hit her with her expertly aimed shot.
"I want to know why you never told me that Roger Thorpe, not Ed Bauer, is my father."
Holly lurched forward as she came to a stop. Her hand went to her chest. Surprisingly her heart was still beating, but she could barely catch her breath. Slowly she turned to face her daughter. Her mouth was dry.
"What are you talking about?"
Blake narrowed her eyes. "Oh mother, you are so stupid"
"Chrissy, watch your mouth, you don't speak to your mother that way!" Roger roared.
Bert reached out and gently touched his elbow. "She can't see or hear you, Roger. Remember, you are just a spectator."
Roger pulled back and nodded.
"I beg your pardon?" Holly asked incredulously.
"Of all the things you brought with you from Springfield and of all the things you saved you saved every letter ever written between you and Ed Bauer"
Holly's face paled. She had forgotten about the box that she stored in the attic. "Christina, I…"
"Save it mother. Take me back to boarding school."
"Christina, you need to understand." She closed the space between them. She reached out to take her daughter in her arms, but she pulled away. Holly pulled her hands back, lacing her fingers together nervously. "I never told you about Roger because I was trying to protect you."
"Protect me from what, mother? He's dead. Ed Bauer killed him." Christina spat.
"That isn't true! Your father, Roger, slipped. Ed tried to save his life. Do you not understand why we were there in the first place? Roger kidnapped me, he chased me through the jungle, all after he tried to kidnap you!" Holly was practically rabid as she tried to make her case.
Christina in turn was equally animated. "I don't give a damn, mother! Take me back to school now!"
The fight out of her, Holly sighed. "Ok, Christina. Fine, I will take you back in the morning. I will call Grandma and tell her that we won't be spending Christmas with her." She was trying to make her daughter feel guilty, but knew it was futile for she was her daughter.
"That's fine mother, and you had better make sure you tell her why. Tell her that I refuse to be lied to any more. Unlike you. Tell me mother, where is your precious Dietrich tonight? Working?" Christina punctuated the remark with a laugh.
"I think it's time for you to go to bed, Christina." Holly sighed.
"And I think it's time you start calling me Blake. If you can deny me my father I can deny the name you gave me."
Roger watched the scene with interest. He had never been told how his beloved Chrissy had discovered that he, not Ed, was her father or how she decided to use her middle name. It all made sense now.
"Take my hand, Roger," Bert said from behind him. "It's time to go."
This time without argument Roger reached out his hand. This time his eyes remained open as the living room faded and darkness consumed them again.
