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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2022543-Silent-Snow
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by Megan Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Chapter · Holiday · #2022543
Grace Bern has a quiet night on Christmas Eve, waiting for her boyfriend Jason to arrive.
The fire cracked loudly, a log rolling down to the bottom of the pile. The flames licked the top of the fireplace, safely under lock. They flamed with flying colors of red, yellow, and electric blue. Grace Bern sat in front of the fire, watching the flames lick the gate, begging to escape. She sat with mascara streaked cheeks in a large brown love seat.



Jason said he would be home, yesterday. He wouldn't have lied to her would he? Grace ran her fingers through her knotted hair, getting up from the seat and pacing back and forth in front of the fire. The Christmas tree, a tall and regal looking pine looked bare and grey even when the pines were a deep forest green color. Grace had been promised her boyfriend of many years would be home in time to decorate the Christmas tree. So where was he?



She didn't know. He had texted her, saying he would be home, and yet he wasn't. Her heart ached from the doubt that he would be home, and for him to be here. She had dreamed of this night, their first Christmas together. The presents under the tree were wrapped perfectly, a bow to decorate each one with bright red and gold. Grace had planned out her gift for this man for almost three months, right after they decided they would spend this very night together.



Every Christmas they had parted ways for the time of the holidays and spend it with their own families, but tonight it was just them. The dinner reservation had been canceled hours earlier when she had calmed herself from all the tears she had spared. Grace didn't even make a fuss about her makeup, let it be a mess she thought, he wasn't coming home tonight anyway.



With a heavy heart she walked into the kitchen and over to the counter. A pot of tea whistled as she took it off the stove top and poured the boiling water into a tea cup. Grace spooned in the sugar, and poured in a teaspoon of milk before making her way over to the cupboard to grab a cookie and walk back to the living room. Once before she had thought the decorr was a magnificent idea, her house had never looked so beautiful, but now she could only resent it.



He isn't coming home for Christmas, and that was the truth. She didn't understand why, he hadn't explained in the vague text, but that wouldn't matter. He wouldn't be sleeping in her bed when he came home. Grace had just settled into her seat once again, flipping through all the channels on the tv above the fire place when the phone rang. She got up and grabbed the phone. She could feel her heart jumping in her stomach and trying to make an appearance out of her throat before she clicked the "answer" button.



"Hello?" Her voice rang in her empty room, soft and timid. "Hi! Honey!" Her mother, Clara, greeted her. Grace let out a small sigh, sitting back into her chair and smiling as her mother talked about how the family misses her, and maybe "it isn't too late to come up here, it's only an hour drive..."



"Mom, please. Can you see the snow coming down right now? If the sky can rain cats and dogs, right now it's snowing snow leopards and polar bears." Her mother laughed at that, which made Grace feel better.



It was true though. She knew she would get hurt if she went out to drive. The road had been icy and dangerous when she had driven home from the office, multiple cars were pulled over or half way into the forest when she had driven on the high way. She almost had a crash of her own turning on her street which was downhill. "Plus," Grace thought to herself out loud. "I have to wait for Jason." She commented. Her mother let out an exasperated sigh and didn't talk for a good three minutes.



"Sweetheart...Grace...do you really believe he's coming home?" The tears had started to trickle out of her eyes when her mother finished saying what Grace had tried not to believe all night. She shook her head, then remembered how her mother, her family, weren't there with her tonight. On Christmas Eve. "No, I don't. But I can't go out, it's a blizzard. And I have tea, a fire, and Netflix." Clara and Grace talked for a few minutes longer, before she hung up with a heavy heart and flipped through the "Christmas Selection" of movies that she could watch tonight.



All of them, to her defeat, were lovey-dovey, stupid, cheesy Christmas movies that Grace felt in no mood to watch. Instead, she decided to hang ornaments on the bare tree, even when he wasn't home to do it. It was a snowy night, freezing. The roads were bad yes, but that was the ugly part of the storm. Grace had watched it snow down all day, the blanket growing on top of the green grass. Now her town was covered in a blanket of the soft, fluffy frozen water, and she had to admit to enjoying it.



The ornament boxes had been brought up from the basement right after Jason had sent the text. She lugged them up the stairs, and opened them to go around finding her favorite ones. Now, hours later, her favorite ones were unwrapped and on the top of the pile. Grace carefully lifted each one by the string, and hung it on a small pine branch. She continued her pattern of placing these when she heard a knock on the door.



Grace walked to the front door, wiped away her dried makeup on her cheeks with her hands, and grabbed the doorknob. The quick cleanup of her face had done nothing, and when she swung the door open she realized that. Seven adults stood before her, staring at her with pity. They had music books out, and were wrapped heavily in scarves, hats, and mittens. "Do, do you want to hear a song?" One short woman in the front asked. Grace nodded her head, and listened to Silent Night.



She closed her eyes and swayed to the song, mouthing the words with small movement of her lips. The voices were lovely, sounding perfectly on pitch and as sweet as angels. The song was so delightful and soft, she felt her body become heavy and lacking sleep. It had to be around ten o'clock now. When they finished, Grace clapped and turned to look for some change. As she was looking she called behind her, "Oh please! Don't stand out there in the cold! Come in, please, come in." The carolers thanked her quietly and stepped into her home. They closed the door, and stood on the doormat, careful not to drag in any snow.



Grace found a couple of dollars and turned around with a bright smile. "Here," she handed over the bills of money. "Oh no, miss. It's no charge." The short woman advised, refusing the money at first. Grace shook her head, placing the money forcefully in the woman's hand. "You are in the freezing cold, singing like angels, and making my night one hundred times better on Christmas Eve. Please take the money." She practically begged. The group of adults looked reluctant, but they carefully folded up the money and placed it in a small purse.



The carolers left and when the door finally shut Grace retired to her seat once again. The fire blazed warm, licking at the gate and the top of the fireplace. She had finished decorating the tree, and looked at it admiring her work. When Grace's eyes became heavy, and her breathe began to slow, she sucked in a deep breath and cuddled up against the arm of the couch, drifting into a deep sleep.

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