Waiting for Christmas Eve

A Long Christmas Eve

By: Bikerider

Tom stood in front of the outdoor Christmas tree, shivering in the cold December air. He glanced up at the tree occasionally, but mostly he looked around at the faces of the people who came and went as the night wore on. He was searching for the pretty girl he had dated all through high school—his first love.

The scent of pine swirled in the night air, reminding Tom of the night they stood here five years ago; the first Christmas after they had graduated from high school. She was home from college for the holidays, he was on leave just before being sent to war. Those obligations, now fulfilled, had kept them apart.

He had a nagging feeling that night; a sense that he would never see her again. He had taken her in his arms under the lighted tree and brushed blond curls from her brow and whispered, “If we are ever separated, if we somehow lose each other, let’s meet here in five years, at midnight on Christmas Eve.” His gaze lingered in her denim-blue eyes, “So I’ll know that you’re happy.” Her furrowed brow told him she didn’t understand his concern, was confused by his request, but she agreed.

And now he stood under the tree and hoped she had remembered. Midnight



Snow sparkled in the black velvet sky as it fell aimlessly to the ground and softened the hard edges of the city. An occasional gust of wind sent frozen flakes inside his collar and down his back. He shivered, put his hands in his jacket pockets and, rolling his shoulders and stamping his feet—he waited.

Tom looked up at the tree, his unfocused stare seeing the memories of her, of them, playing in the lights; their first date, their first kiss, their first Christmas together. Back then they were still young enough to feel the magic of the holiday, but old enough for pleasures they didn’t completely understand. He remembered their dreams of sharing a life together—forever.

It was a long time ago.



He checked his watch again, eleven-thirty, and thought about the first time they made love; and the way their collective innocence almost prevented it from happening at all. He had struggled with the question; would she? She struggled with the question; should she? The answers came in the new-found intimacy they shared. Even though the act itself seemed surreal, the love and closeness they felt afterward brought them warmth.

He remembered the way her warm breath caressed his cheek as she spoke that night. “You can’t tell anyone, ever.” And then after a warm kiss, “Can we do it again?”

It was the first time in his life he felt loved, and he liked it. “I can’t tell anyone,” he had replied. “I can hardly believe it myself.”

He remembered how her fingers electrified him as she ran them through his dark, wavy hair, and the way the light always caught her golden curls, creating a glow around her. The excitement of seeing her naked for the first time was still fresh, even now.



The distant peal of church bells chimed in the night air as car tires slushed through the wet snow and pulled up to the curb only feet from where he stood. The headlights went dark and the driver’s door opened. The sound of the church bells grew more distant as he saw her stand and look over the top of the car searching for someone—searching for him. He recognized her.

Carly.

He wanted to call out to her but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he remained silent and let his eyes follow her.

Her footsteps left dark impressions in the glistening snow as she walked, her eyes raised to the bright lights. She scanned the faces around her, and Tom saw the flash of recognition in her eyes when she looked at him. A smile opened on her face. A warm, friendly smile, Tom thought.

A smile he remembered.



They walked to each other, stopping just inches apart.

“Hi,” she said, her eyes taking in his face.

“Hi.” A smile wavered across his lips.

“It’s midnight,” she looked around. “Christmas Eve.” She looked at the brightly lit tree then into his warm, brown eyes. “I hope I’m not too late.” She gently bit her lower lip.

“No.” Tom raised a single brow and cocked his ear to the sky as the final peel sounded, then dissolved, leaving silence in its wake. “Your timing is perfect.” His eyes widened with hope as he took her in.



They stood silently staring into each other’s eyes. Suddenly everything around them fell away, leaving them standing alone in the snow. Surrounded by silence, the years they had spent apart, gone. She had not gone off to college, he had not gone to war. For a moment they were back in high school. Nothing had separated them—nothing could.

The lights on the tree suddenly blazed brighter, coloring the snow around their feet, pulling them back from the personal reveries. Tom blinked, swallowed and stepped closer to her. He circled Carly with his arms and drew her to him. “I’m happy you remembered.”

They kissed, tentatively at first, but soon the old feelings of love surfaced and they kissed harder. He tilted his head away. “So tell me…are you happy?” His words became a cloud and then disappeared as he waited through her pause.

She wiped a tear from her cheek and said, “I am now.” She leaned in and kissed him, this time harder.

Catching his breath, he peered into her eyes and saw the colorful tree lights dancing there. He was afraid to ask the question that nagged at him. Afraid of the answer, he pushed the question aside and whispered, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She took his hand and together they turned and looked up at the tree that had suddenly grown brighter.

“It looks bigger,” she said.

“But it’s still beautiful,” he said in reply.

He turned to her and watched her golden curls reflect the colorful lights. Gently squeezing her hand, Tom said, “I’ve thought about you a lot during the last five years.”

“I was hoping you did.” She raised his hand to her lips and gently kissed it, then said, “I’ve missed you, too.” Tears beaded in her eyes. “Do you think we can begin again? Be together again?”

Tom turned to Carly and let his gaze linger on her eyes. He smiled and touched her cheek, his thumb gently tracing the curve of her lips. “We never ended,” he said softly.

Carly sighed softly and looked up at the tree. She turned back to Tom and asked, “Ready to go?”

Tom turned to her, leaned in and kissed her lightly and said, “Yes, I’m ready.”



Holding hands, Tom and Carly strolled into the velvet night—together.







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