Hey Folks, Happy Holidays! Thanks for checking out Chapter Two of Merry Little Christmas! If you missed Chapter One, it's up right now on Twriter12's page. Check it out and come back...
Rick had two boxes in one hand and a cardboard carafe in the other when a comely jogger sideswiped him coming out of the shop.
It was more of a near-miss than a catastrophic collision. His boxes remained under his arm, but the carafe was not so lucky. It flew out of his grip and somehow managed to trip her up as it skidded down the street.
"Sorry!" They both said simultaneously, his eyes connecting with those of the jogger.
"Desperate Michonne!" He said, a smile breaking out across his face.
"Uh Rick, right?" She frowned, her chest heaving as she looked down at her Apple watch.
She tapped it, removing an earbud, and shook her head as if resetting herself. "I mean, hey Rick. Sorry."
He moved toward her as she bent to pick the carafe up from the pavement.
"No, I'm sorry." He rubbed his chin, contemplating how that might have sounded. "I didn't mean anything…"
She panted, trying to regulate her breathing as she dusted off the bottom of the carafe and handed it back to him. "Don't worry about it. I knew what you meant."
"Thanks." He accepted the box, their fingers touching lightly as he took possession of the handle.
"Excuse." A handlebar-mustachioed young man broke in between them with a bag in his hand and three coffee cups stacked under his chin.
They gave him and his death-defying balancing act a wide berth, moving off to the side. Out of the way of pedestrians coming down the street as well.
Michonne looked up at the awning and then back at him. In her olive green and pink workout apparel and cinnamon-colored locs done up in a ponytail, Rick couldn't help pondering how his new neighbor was this fetching, both at work and play. Carrying off both looks as if each were her natural states of being.
"So, what are you doing all the way over here?" She asked. "I thought Pinhole was where it was at?"
Rick chuckled, extending his arm down the street as it seemed they were headed in the same direction anyway. She followed at his side.
"It is...if you just want your Joe and an almond croissant. If you want the best donuts in the area, however, you gotta come over to Dynamo."
He shrugged, raising the carafe slightly. "And well, you buy two dozen, you get a discount on the rocket fuel."
Michonne laughed; it was a melodic sound that was deeply gratifying.
She hadn't seemed dour the day before, just focused, intent. It was nice to see this other side of her. And the big, bright smile that made his stomach threaten to fall to his knees didn't hurt either. She eased one of the donut boxes away from him as they continued along their way.
"Thanks," he said then. "Actually, I'm feeding my elves."
Michonne's eyebrows rose.
"I have a couple of people who help me out at the store. I pay 'em a pittance but I try to keep the benefits appealing. Tomorrow, there'll be special order, Christmastime-only, Gingerbread Tiles and sandwiches for lunch from Tartine."
"Let's go this way." Rick walked beside her gently showing her the way.
As they walked, he could tell from the way she looked up and around that she hadn't taken in all the neighborhoods' highlights yet.
"Oh my gosh," she said, her eyes going wide as he led her down Balmy Alley, the famous art walk with buildings covered in colorful murals.
She turned to him, grinning as she realized what he'd done.
"There are more murals here, together on this lane, than in any of the museums in San Francisco." He nodded at some.
"Really?"
Cradling the box in her hands, Michonne's eyes roamed the street, stopping to appreciate one work or another as if she walked the length of a hall in the Louvre.
"Yup," He smiled proudly, leading her through to the other side.
"...So, Rick, food recommendations, art installations, a charming toy shop? What's your deal?" Michonne asked after a moment, her eyebrows knitting together as she watched him. "Are you part of the tourist board, chamber of commerce, or what?"
This time Rick laughed and her eyes widened.
"What? You from here or a transplant like me?"
"I'm, I guess, what you'd call a hybrid. I'm a SoCal boy myself but I used to come up every summer for scout camp in Big Basin and to see my granddad."
He watched her nod in response, grinning, but her expression was inscrutable.
"What?"
She pressed a hand to her chest, "Inglewood."
"Oh, no kidding? Big Bear."
Michonne laughed boisterously then nodding still, as he looked on. An uninhibited, joyous screech —two ideas that hadn't coexisted comfortably to him until just then in her laugh. It was even more delightful than the previous one.
"What?" He repeated, smiling with her.
"No offense but I wondered," she admitted between giggles covering her mouth.
"What does that mean?" He paused.
"Well...you're a little, I dunno, urbane for Frisco but a little, um, seasoned—" She reached out and grazed his stubbled cheek with a finger "—for LA."
Her touch was electric and Rick's circuits were about to fry.
"Wait, are you saying I'm pretentious or old or both?" He searched her face with a smile.
"Not exactly." She averted her gaze then, clearing her throat. "Um, this is me."
The entrance to Bernal Heights Park rose up ahead of them.
Rick frowned.
"I think I'm just gonna cut through, and uh, get home faster."
Michonne carefully stacked her donut box back on top of his, as Rick opened his mouth to tell her that the park's winding paths wouldn't be faster. But, he thought better of it. Still, Michonne watched his lips as if waiting for what might emanate from them.
"Ah, enjoy your run," he said instead.
"Thanks."
The air between them had gone from zero to awkward faster than a Bugatti on the Autobahn.
He cleared his throat also.
"I hope your niece and nephew like their gifts. T-minus two days and counting 'til you find out."
She gave a small chuckle. "Yeah, fingers crossed."
The sound was not as spectacular as before; Rick was disappointed.
"Well, happy holidays!" He tried to rally but his heart wasn't in it. He didn't want her to go.
"Happy Holidays, Rick." She gave him a tepid smile as she slid the earbuds back into her ears.
Michonne started off but before Rick could stop himself he called out to her again. She turned, the same expectant look on her face as before, jogging in place.
"Um, tomorrow's gonna be a long night, you know, with the Christmas Eve of it all. But I'm thinking I'm gonna get the elves some pizza from Flour + Water. Best in the Mission."
"Naturally." She waited, fingers fiddling with her buds.
"But I mean, don't take my word for it. We'll probably have extra, um, if you're interested?"
She smiled again. An absolute heartbreaker this time.
"What time?"
"Around seven? Don't want 'em turning into gremlins."
She nodded, replacing the buds. "Definitely not. Guess, I'll see you then."
Rick stayed to watch her jog on limber legs off the paved road up into the dirt path directly over the hill.
Maybe she would save time after all.
Chapter 3 is written by Twriter12, and will be posted to her account (Twriter12) on this site tomorrow, December 24th.