Author's Note: Some language. Poor Schwartz! :( Hope you're reading and enjoy - please know that I am a big believer in happy endings. Just saying. I am getting ready to head out of town for Christmas, so the next few days are going to be a little hectic - I might not be able to post again until Saturday. To those of you who have left me reviews - thank you SO much. I really appreciate them! But really, I'm writing this to get it out of my head. I just hope others are enjoying my ideas about the secondary characters of our beloved A Christmas Story and A Christmas Story Christmas. 3

Merry Christmas!

January 8, 1974, 5:30 pm

The Schwartz house

"It's not like you to not eat, son."

Schwartz did his best to smile reassuringly at his mother. Flick had told her a half-truth about the fight, that some stranger had come into the bar already drunk and attacked Schwartz for no reason. For the best, he figured. He wasn't ready to tell his mother that Jane might be yet another failed attempt at adulthood. And happiness.

He wasn't ready to admit that to himself, though the thought was constantly sitting there in the back of his mind.

"Sorry, Mom. Just dawdling." He took a big bite of the spaghetti, one of his favorites, and yet tonight it tasted like nothing at all. Still, he forced himself to eat, for his mother's sake. To him, it didn't matter if he ever ate again.

"When is Jane coming home?"

Home. Was this even really her home? Or just a temporary stop on her midlife crisis? It didn't make sense that she'd taken a job, gotten an apartment, just to have a little break from her husband and her life in Minneapolis. But it also didn't make sense that she'd told him specifically that she was divorced when she wasn't.

Still married. He'd heard it before, but this time was worse. This time cut him all the way to the bone.

"Friday," he said. "Sandy and the kids are picking her up at the airport in Chicago since they're coming here for the weekend."

"So maybe on Friday you'll be smiling again?"

Schwartz finished his mouthful and stared at his plate. "How do you know I'm not?"

"Your voice, dear. I can hear it when you're smiling. And I can hear when you're not smiling. Right now you're not smiling. You haven't been smiling since Jane left town."

Schwartz figured if he faked it, she'd know. "I miss her," he said, and it wasn't a lie.

"Is that all?"

He stared at his mother, who looked at him with her mostly unseeing eyes as if she did in fact see him, and more than that, saw through him. "What?"

"You're my son. I know you. I know when your heart's broken."

His mind raced. She knew more than Flick had said he'd told her, obviously. How had she found out? Farkas' mother, maybe. She might have heard the story from her son, and his mom and Mrs. Farkas were friends. Or Mrs. Parker. Ralphie wasn't a great secret keeper. So many ways for news to spread in a small town. No real hiding places for secrets to go. "Mom..."

"Can I just make a suggestion, Paul?"

It was rare that she called him Paul. His eyes stung. He wondered if he'd ever hear Janey call him Paul again. He wondered if this trip to Florida was actually some sort of get out of jail card for her. He wondered if she would really be back in Hohman on Friday. She hadn't given him a phone number, and even if she had, he figured he'd chicken out of calling.

"When Jane gets back on Friday, and she will, I know she will, when she gets back, Paul, whatever it is that's gone wrong, give her a chance to explain. She has a side to this story, and you ought to hear it."

He stared at his mother. "Nothing's gone wrong, Mom."

God might well strike him dead with lightning for lying to his mother, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Paul Lester Schwartz, don't lie to me."

Schwartz looked down, his cheeks burning with shame. The middle name usage was a tool God gave to mothers to serve in place of lightning strikes, he figured.

"Just give her a chance."

"What if she doesn't want a chance?"

He couldn't bear to look at his mother, but he heard her sigh, heard her get up and move around the table. Felt her hand move across his back to his shoulder and let her gently draw his head to her middle like she had when he was a kid. He blinked. It wasn't quite as comforting as it had been years ago.

"Oh, honey. Of course she wants a chance."

"How do you know?"

"I see much better than you think I do. And you know what I saw when she was here the other day? I saw a woman who is in love with my son. I saw a woman who read my son like a book and comforted him with just a touch." She ruffled his head like she had when he was a little boy, and he looked up at her to find her smiling down at him with bittersweet emotion. "Used to be that only I could do that, but I guess I don't mind so much. This is what's supposed to happen." She smiles and ruffled his hair again. "And maybe it would bother me if I wasn't so convinced that she really cares for you. But I am." She leaned down and kissed his head. "So give her a chance."

She walked back around the table and sat back down, giving him a sweet smile before she resumed eating. Schwartz watched her, and a rush of love for her filled him. How lucky he was to have her for a mother.

"Eat, my boy. You're wasting away."

Schwartz shook his head. Only his mother would think he was wasting away, but he took another bite of his dinner.

After dinner, feeling restless, Schwartz told his mother he was going for a walk.

"Don't drink too much," she said as she straightened the collar of his coat. Just like he had as a kid, he pulled away but eased the rejection with a smile to her, and she returned one of her own.

"I'm not going to the Tavern. Just for a walk."

"Well, you may end up there. And I just don't' want you to forget that you have work in the morning." She took hold of his shoulders and looked up at him. He wondered what exactly she saw. "I don't tell you this often enough, Paul, but I am so proud of you."

Schwartz looked away. "Mom..."

Because how on earth could she say that? What had he ever done to make her proud?

"All you've done for me, Paul. After your father died, and my diagnosis, you moved back home. I know it hasn't been easy to be a grown man living with his mother. Not in many ways, I'm sure. And I know you've struggled, especially the past year or so." She smiles. "But you've got a chance to change all that. This new job, and Jane." She patted his cheek. "That is, if you take it." She turned around and made her way to the couch, where she could sit under her bright lamp and work on her braille.

"I've taken chances before, Mom. Never gets me anywhere. I always end right back..." He stopped himself from finishing that sentence. How ungrateful would that be?

His mother looked up toward him from the couch. "That's life, my boy. When you fall, you get back up and try again." She tilted her head. "And I have never known you to not get back up. Maybe this time it's taken you a little bit longer, but that's okay." She smiled, her head tilted to the right. "Go. Go wear yourself out so you can sleep well tonight. Big day tomorrow."

Schwartz zipped up his coat and tugged on his hat. "I'll be back soon," he said.

He walked through Hohman hardly noticing the cold. He supposed it was because of how numb he felt inside. His mother meant well, he knew, but she didn't understand how much this one, this fall, hurt. She didn't understand that it was tearing him up, the idea that maybe none of it was real. That maybe nothing Jane had said to him, nothing at all, was true. That maybe none of the looks she'd given him, the laughs, the smiles, the touches, the kisses, the sex, maybe none of it meant a damn thing to her.

Janey.

He felt like someone was ripping out all guts, all his internal organs, then sewing them back in just so they could rip them out all over again. In comparison, he hardly felt the damage her husband had done to his face.

Her husband.

She was married. And her husband clearly still wanted her if he'd come looking for her. He frowned as he thought about it. The guy must have stalked her. Followed her around town without her even knowing he was there. He'd said he'd seen Schwartz with her at the hotel. What in the hell had he done, staked out the place all night just to see if Schwartz stayed all night? Must have. Jesus, that was creepy.

How could she want to be with someone like that? And did she? She had left him, after all. Moved hundreds of miles away from him.

His thoughts jumbled up together into nothing he could really discern, just a mass of confusion.

He found himself in front of the elementary school, found himself walking up to the flagpole, found himself standing in the place he'd first kissed her. Now he noticed the cold. It felt colder tonight than it had that night. Of course it was colder. She wasn't here.

Barely a week ago, that night.

He sighed. Closed his eyes. The way she'd looked at him after their first kiss, he could still see that look. No one had ever looked at him that way before. Not ever. Like she'd just been kissed for the first time and it had amazed her, like it had left her knees weak and her heart pounding and her head spinning. Like he was her very own Prince Charming. Him, a Prince Charming.

I'm so glad I met you…re-met you, Paul Schwartz.

Had she been lying then, too?

He shook his head and turned away from the ghosts of their obviously too-quick, too-reckless love. Love? It was love for him.

What in the hell was it for her?

I think you're the sweetest man I've ever met, Paul Schwartz.

You have no idea what you've done for me. What you are doing for me.

Whether you like it or not, I know you. And whether you like it or not, I'm not going anywhere.

I've never felt this way, either. Not about anyone.

He stalked off and let the anger build. She'd lied. All of it must have been lies. Lie after lie after lie. And all the while, she knew how he felt. She knew what he'd been through. He'd told her all about Tracy. She hadn't even told him her husband's name. He'd been completely honest with her and in return, she'd lied.

By the time he was a block away from Flick's Tavern, he'd decided to hell with it all. To hell with Janey, to hell with the job. He was going to go ahead and get rip-roaring drunk and let Flick drive him home and dump him on his mother's doorstep. Or better yet, he'd just curl up in one of the booths in the Tavern and sleep there, then start drinking again first thing in the morning.

Anything to forget her.

Anything to forget she'd broken his heart.

But when he reached the Tavern, he stopped cold in front of the door. Something tightened in his chest. He stared in through the glass and could see familiar faces. Could see Flick at the bar serving up drinks. And despite himself, he looked for her. Hoped that by some miracle, she'd come home and knew he'd come here.

"Right," he muttered.

Not with his luck.

"Ah, Schwartz. I was hoping you'd be here."

Schwartz looked to his left and found Ralphie coming toward him. He forced a smile. "Hey. Fancy meeting you here."

Ralphie nodded but didn't smile. "Your mother called me. She's worried about you."

As much as he loved her, it was one of those things that left Schwartz feeling less a man and more a kid. He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "God, it's like I'm ten-years old."

Ralphie raised his eyebrows. "She knows you're upset."

"Did she send you out looking for me?"

"Nope. My idea." Ralphie nodded toward the door. "You going in?"

"Yep."

"You start work tomorrow, right?"

Schwartz glared at Ralphie. "What, are you my babysitter or something?"

Ralphie sighed. "I just don't want you to let what's going on with Jane mess that up." He took a step toward Schwartz and put a hand on his shoulder. "Look. Why don't we just go in, have a beer, and talk a little bit?"

Schwartz looked down at his feet. Even there on the ground, he saw her face. Everywhere he looked, he saw her face. Everything he thought was about her. Everything he heard he heard in her voice. He breathed out, a long exhale of frustration. "I just don't want to think about her for awhile." Being drunk wasn't a guarantee of that, he knew, but there was a better chance of it then there was being sober.

"Okay, so we won't talk about her. I'll tell you stories, instead."

And in spite of himself, Schwartz gave a smile and followed Ralphie into the Tavern.

Flick's Tavern, 8:30 pm

He managed to stick to two beers as Ralphie regaled him and Flick with stories from his failed novel. Schwartz had to laugh at them. Since about fifth grade on, Ralphie had always been into this science fiction stuff. Made no sense to Schwartz, but at this point, nothing did, so that wasn't saying much. "Great stuff, Ralphie," he said. "But why Neptune?"

Just as Ralphie was going to answer, the phone rang. And as usual, everyone in the bar gasped and held their breath.

Schwartz didn't bother. He finished the rest of his beer and watched idly as Flick walked to the phone and picked it up.

"Flick's Tavern."

Time seemed to stand still.

Flick looked at Schwartz, and Schwartz's heart dropped.

"Jane. Hi. Good to hear from you." Flick raised his eyebrows.

Schwartz's heart jumped back up and went wild, leaving him just a little bit dizzy.

"Schwartz?"

Schwartz shakes his head.

"You know, I saw him, but I think he's in the back playing shuffleboard. Let me check, okay?" Flick held the receiver against his chest and stared at Schwartz. He nodded and gave an encouraging smile. Mouthed the words "come on".

Ralphie elbowed Schwartz. "Go on. Talk to her."

Schwartz couldn't think straight. On the one hand, he desperately wanted to hear her voice. On the other hand, if he did talk to her, she'd probably just tell him more lies.

He closed his eyes.

May God forgive him.

No. God needed to forgive her.

He stood up, shook his head at Flick. Pulled out his wallet and tossed a few bucks on the bar. Didn't look at Ralphie. "I have to go. Got work in the morning."

He walked out, ignoring the look of disappointment on Flick's face. Ignoring the disappointment in his own heart. Funny, he thought, as he walked home as quickly as he could because it was colder than hell outside. Now he knew what it felt like to have someone call for him at the Tavern.

And just like everything else did right now, it hurt like hell.