One Tearful Christmas

Lisa J

Chapter One

"What do you mean, you don't have any Barbie B-Books?"  Cassy jumped from her seat as she yelled into the phone.  "How could you not have any if you just received a shipment this morning?!" 

With her foot tapping angrily against the floor, she shot a disgruntled glance at her partner as he casually strode to his desk whistling a happy holiday tune. 

"Your salesperson assured me....  But, how could you sell out so quickly?  I specifically asked to have one Barbie B-Book Laptop Learning Center held with my name on it.  I even left a deposit." 

 She could feel the pressure building as she listened to another lame excuse from yet another under-stocked merchant determined to make her Christmas a nightmare.  "I don't have time to wait for the next truck to arrive!  My niece is expecting that particular item from this particular aunt on this particular Christmas!  I have to have it today or else I won't have time to--"

Having received her fill of useless platitudes from apologetic retailers, her annoyance level suddenly hit its peak when Tom's thin-lipped rendition of  ‘Let it Snow' wafted from his desk to hers.  "Do you mind?  I'm trying to talk on the phone."

"Sounds a lot like ranting to me," he asserted between bars of the off-climate tune, never once looking up from his paperwork.

"Knock it off, already!  It's seventy-eight degrees outside," she snapped as she slammed down the phone.  "There's no friggin' snow to be found for miles!"

"Gee, here I was missing the cold weather at Christmas, and you've put a nice, icy chill in the air for me.  Thanks, Cass."

"Oh... stuff it," she huffed and then stuck out her tongue.  "How can you be so darn chipper, anyway?  I know you don't have your shopping done yet."

"No, but the difference between you and me is I don't get stressed over it."

"I have good reason to be stressed.  Half the stuff on my list hasn't even been bought yet.  How am I supposed to find time to get it all wrapped?"

"The stores can wrap the gifts as you buy them if you'd --"

"That's cheating," Cassy inserted without missing a beat.  "Besides, they never do it right."

"Not by your standards, anyway," Tom added with an irritating smirk.

 "I also have cookies to bake for the party on Monday, cards I forgot to drop in the mail on the way into work, and...," she emphasized with a glare,  "and I have a Christmas tree that's been parked on my patio for three days waiting for someone to bring over his saw to trim the trunk and help me get it inside!"

"Oh, so now it's my fault you've lost your holiday cheer."

"You said you would help me."

"And I will."

"That was two days ago, Tom."

"So, sue me.  I've been busy."  Rolling his eyes with a sigh, he gave a defeated shrug as he systematically gave into her whimpering.  "Fine, you want me to help you?  I'll help you, all right?  I'll come over tonight... after the malls close.  I wouldn't want to interfere with your shopping."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome.  Anything to get out of working with Little Miss Scrooge for the day."  Enjoying a hearty laugh at her expense, he narrowly dodged the spiraling pencil that flew toward his head from her desk. 

~~~

The last rays of sunlight were dipping into the ocean when Cassy, overloaded with purchases, opened her patio gate to find her beautiful blue spruce laying across her path.  Stopping short before stumbling, she discovered Tom stripped to his shirtsleeves, having just finished trimming the trunk and preparing to set the tree in its stand.  Disarmed by the pleasant surprise, all she could utter was, "You're here."

"I told you I would be."  Lifting the tree with one hand, he wiped his brow with the other and allowed her to pass and unlock the door.  "And...."  He gestured toward a stack of boxes piled by the doorway.  "Nice guy that I am, I got out your lights and decorations when I pulled out the tree stand."

"How'd you know where to find everything?"

"Cass, how long have I known you?"  Hauling the tree in behind her, he went on explaining, "Every year, you make me drag all this stuff in from storage the weekend after Thanksgiving.  That is, if you haven't already done it yourself the day after.  This year I had to pick the lock on your garage door and do it all by myself."

"Well, thanks... I think.  I seem to be falling behind schedule on everything this year," she sighed.  "Kind of hard to get into the spirit somehow."      

"Yeah, I know what you mean."  He ducked out to retrieve boxes while she dropped her packages in a heap on the table, adding upon his return,  "It's hard to celebrate when you realize how many families are minus a loved one this Christmas.  Thousands of families torn apart by terrorism right here on our own home soil."  Tom shook his head sadly.  "It's so unbelievable." 

Pausing as he held a string of lights in his hands, he determinedly met Cassy's pained gaze, his own eyes dark with remorse.  "But, I think maybe those of us who can should celebrate in their honor, don't you?  I mean, the reason for the season is still the same.  It's part of what separates us from the bastards who took all those lives in the first place."

"You've got a point there, I guess."  Yet, while she agreed with his sentiment, Cassy also knew how it felt to spend a holiday in mourning, and her heart bled every time she thought about the events that changed so many lives so quickly.  Not wanting to dwell on such a sad issue, she quickly moved past it and remembered her own reason for celebrating the holiday so heartily.  "Besides, all the tree trimming and decorating are second nature to me.  I think I'd feel worse if I didn't acknowledge the season."

‘Christmas is a time for togetherness,' her father once said.  ‘And we should cherish every moment we're given to share in His honor.'  Though she'd never been too religious, those words held great meaning for Cassy.  Especially since they were spoken on the last holiday she was able to spend with the man she so adored.

~~~

One Tearful Christmas

Lisa J

Chapter Two

While Tom busied himself with her tree, Cassy quietly moved off to the kitchen, emerging a short while later to find twinkling tree lights strung up and glittering while Yuletide tunes flowed from the stereo.  Lost in the melancholy notes of ‘I'll Be Home for Christmas', her partner's faraway gaze regained focus at the sound of her popping the cork from a bottle of Chablis. 

Coming back down to Earth, he grinned abashedly.  "So, what do you think?" 

"I think you deserve a drink for your efforts," she smiled in response, feeling her tension ebb away for the first time that week.  Something about the bright lights dancing around the otherwise barren tree managed to set the mood into motion, finally igniting the spark of Cassy's heretofore lacking spirit of Christmas.

After filling both of their glasses with wine, she indulged in a few sips and then quickly went to work wrapping gifts while Tom stood by, observing.  Occasionally, he'd loan a finger to assist in a difficult tie of the ribbon or search out the oft-missing roll of Scotch tape, but otherwise he remained a good-natured spectator, content to let her run the show.  Seeing the amusement light up his eyes as he watched brought to Cassy's mind a time when she was the observer, happily gazing in awe.

<>

 "Daddy, I'm bored."  The gangly eleven-year-old plopped down at the table, resting her chin on crossed arms while she stared adoringly at the man sitting opposite her. 

 In her mind, Robert St. John was the most perfect man in the world.  Handsome and tall, he had a thick, tickly mustache and deep, booming voice, with soft, sandy-colored hair that he'd passed on to his children.  And, though it was true she had nothing exciting to do, Cassy really just wanted to be near him, content simply to be in his presence. 

  One of the best things about the holiday season was that her dad was home for a whole week and a half straight; never once leaving for business until after the New Year was over.  Sometimes she wished Christmas day would never arrive, so he could always be there with his family.  Presents were neat, but she was sure she could do without them if it meant having him there all the time.

"Cassy Lynn, how can you be bored at Christmas?  There's so much to do!" Gesturing at the gifts strewn across one end of the table, her father chuckled, "We have presents to wrap, a tree to be trimmed...."  He sniffed his nose in the air,  "Mmm, and lots of good cookies to eat.  How could anyone possibly be bored?"

Smiling at her reluctant amusement, he asked of his oldest daughter, "How come you're not playing with your sisters?"

"Because they're babies and have to take baby-girl naps."  She rolled her eyes drolly.  "Claudia fell asleep right in the middle of The Grinch book I was reading."

"Two-year-olds can be so inconsiderate," he commiserated with a twinkle in his eye.  "Well, if your mom doesn't need your help in the kitchen--"

"She doesn't," Cassy quickly assured him. "She told me to stay out and leave the baking to her, and later she'll let me and Christina decorate cookies."

"Sounds like a fair trade," he laughed.  "So, you get to be my little elf for now, huh?"

"That's me, Elf Supreme," she beamed, reaching for the Scotch tape and bows.  "You wrap and I'll tape.  I'll even pick out your ribbon.  Mom says I have a good eye for colors."

Completely absorbed in her task, Cassy watched her father as he lay each package before him, magically measuring each bit of paper to just the right size simply by eyeing it up.  He'd lift a bit of wrap this way or that to judge it for length, then do a silly ‘roll of the box' to get the width of the paper just right.  Then, when he was sure he'd spied the amount of gift-wrap he needed, he pressed a sharp yardstick across it and (((rip))) he'd tear off a perfectly straight edge without any scissors! 

She was amazed at the precision and speed with which he tackled the tall pile of presents; neatly folding, creasing and tucking edges of gift-wrap as she handed him small bits of tape for his mission.  All the while, he chatted amiably with her just like she was a grown-up, which she almost was... at least in her mind, anyway.

"So, my sweet Cassy Lynn, what is Santa going to bring you this Christmas?"

"Daddy, I know there's no Santa," she sighed.  "You and Mom buy all the presents."

"Oh, really?" He raised a bemused eyebrow.

"Uh-huh. You buy the fun stuff and Mom--"

"Mrs. Claus, you mean."  Her dad winked as her mother suddenly entered the room.

 Cassy almost giggled at the sight of her mom wearing an oversized apron covered with flour.  They had a maid who cooked most of their meals, but even Mom got into the spirit of the holidays, sometimes baking festive gingerbread men as well as the girls' favorite sugar cookie cut-outs.  One year, she even tried to make fudge, but somehow it came out too stiff and was really hard to bite into.

Since then, she always had Regina make a batch of Rocky Road fudge for each of their families before she left on her break - because even domestics got time off for Christmas.  If there was one thing the St. Johns agreed on, it was the belief that no matter how great the sacrifice, Christmas should be spent with ones family.

 "Robert, I need this table for cookies."

"Almost done here, Evelyn."  He spoke to her backside as she disappeared into the kitchen again. 

Turning his attention back to his daughter, he slyly grinned. "You were saying?"

"I just meant that the Santa business is for kids. That's all," she explained. "I'm getting too old for toys."

"So, what is it you want for Christmas?"

"Well, now that you mention it...," she pondered dramatically. "I really, really want a Speidel Idents.  A gold one with my name engraved on it... in cursive letters, not print.  Printed letters are for little kids."

"Whoa, slow down.  You lost old Santa with that one," he laughed.  "What exactly is a...?"

"Speidel Idents," Cassy supplied.  "It's a bracelet; a really nifty I.D. bracelet.  I want one with ‘Cassy' on it, not ‘Cassandra'.  You can get them at the same store where I got your--" 

Caught up in her own head of steam, she had to stop herself from revealing what she'd bought him for Christmas that year. A whole week's worth of allowance was used to buy his gift at the same engraving counter where she'd spotted the coveted bracelet.  Well, actually, she'd bought some British Sterling cologne in the men's department and then carried it to the jewelry counter to have the silver-topped flask monogrammed with his initials in fancy, Olde English script.

It was there, nestled between revolving display cases filled with Zippo lighters and Timex watches that she'd seen the assortment of bracelets.  Cassy grew starry-eyed gazing at a shining gold one with a dangling, heart-shaped charm attached to the nameplate.  She could just imagine it adorning her wrist! 

Even though that one was her favorite, she would never be so greedy as to insist on any particular bracelet, instead stating simply, "I sort of had my heart set on a gold one."

"A gold what?"  Her mother asked as she reentered carrying two trays of dark-edged sugar cookies.

Completely against her will, Cassy's nose wrinkled at the sight of the overdone treats. "Mom, those look kind of burned."

"Oh, Cassandra!"

"No, they're fine," her dad interjected.  "You kids put so much frosting on them that's all you taste, anyway."

"If you say so, but I still think--"

"Cassy says she wants jewelry for Christmas this year, Mrs. Claus."  Giving his daughter a warning glare, he continued, "That sounds like it's more up your alley.  Don't you think?"

"Jewelry?" Evelyn scowled.  "What kind of jewelry do eleven-year-old girls wear?"

"I.D. bracelets, apparently.  Isn't that right, Cassy Lynn?"

"Yes, Daddy," Cassy mumbled, deflated by the thought of her precious gift being relegated to the person who always bought the boring stuff like pajamas and bath soaps.

Skulking off to gather decorating supplies for the cookies, she hadn't meant to eavesdrop as she disappeared into the kitchen.  It was purely by accident that she heard her parents' words to each other through the swinging wood doors.

"You know a thing or two about spending money on jewels, don't you, dear?" 

Cassy couldn't be certain, but she thought her father's tone sounded scornful.  Yet, while it surprised Cassy, her mother never faltered, effortlessly lashing back with her own venomous tongue.

"Yes, darling.  I'm an expert at compensating for neglect by spending money needlessly.  In fact, it's become a hobby of mine."

"Well, how about putting those skills to use by searching out that bracelet for Cassy Lynn? It'd be nice if the kids could at least be happy this Christmas."

"For Cassandra," she emphasized, "I'll endeavor to do my best."

<>

One Tearful Christmas

Lisa J

Chapter Three

As her thoughts drifted between present and past, Cassy continued her gift-wrapping task, intent on getting the right amount of curl on the end of one package's ribbon and neatly creasing the box edges before setting it aside to start on the next.  While she wistfully compared her creative handiwork to that of her father's, Tom's voice suddenly broke through her reverie.

"Did you ever stop to think maybe you're trying too hard?" 

Startled, she almost wondered if he'd been reading her thoughts.  "Trying too hard to do what?"

 "To make it all perfect.  To have the House Beautiful version of Home for the Holidays." 

Gesturing with his empty wine goblet, he swept his arm over the stack of meticulously wrapped presents, including the twinkling tree awaiting adornment within his expanse.  "You've got artistic creations instead of simply wrapped boxes, the finest hand-blown glass ornaments to hang on the tallest tree you can find.  Nothing but the very best decorations and window displays year after year after year.  You get so stressed out trying to make everything appear perfect for others that you don't get to enjoy the holiday for yourself."

"I don't--"  She opened her mouth to refute him, but he continued his chiding as if she'd said nothing.

"Maybe if you stopped trying to live up to Evelyn's standard of what Christmas should be like, you could take some time to make yourself happy for once. 

"All of this is what makes me happy," she justified.  "It has nothing to do with what my mother expects.  The prize-winning gift-wrap and ornate decorations, the tree trimmed just so....  That's my version of the perfect holiday season; the way I think Christmas should be." 

Like the happy ones from my childhood, she silently added.

"As long as it's what you want...," he relented.  "Just remember, a lot of times what appears to be perfect is just an illusion."

"Or a long lost memory," she murmured.

Ignoring the quiet rebuttal, Tom turned his nose to the air.  "Hey, Cass?  Are you baking something?"

"My cookies!"  Jumping up from the table, she dashed to the kitchen, discovering once she entered that the music had drowned out the sound of her timer. 

"Oh, no," she moaned as she pulled the over-browned shapes from the oven.  "They're all burnt."

"Nah, they're just extra crispy," Tom laughed.  "Once you get ‘em frosted, no one will ever know the difference.  Besides, I hate those soft, underdone kind of cookies.  Don't you?"

Sounding exactly like something her father would say, his words sent her thoughts tumbling back to that last family Christmas....

<>

  "Doll, Mama."  With a bright red sticky-bow adorning her single gold curl, two-year-old Claudia toddled and teetered among the discarded gift-wrap, proudly displaying her new cherished possession.  "Mine... doll."

"Yes, Baby.  That's your new doll from Santa," her mother cooed, giving the tyke a hearty, one-armed hug while trying to clean up all the boxes and mess. 

Nearly all the presents had been opened to the chorus of three sisters oohing, aahing and squealing over this gift or that.  Claudia received her stand-alone Suzy Q doll and Christina her much wished for E-Z Bake Oven.  All that remained was the small, rectangular package Cassy had purposely saved ‘til the end. 

Wrapped in bright green-foil paper, it was nearly hidden under the boughs of the tree, and she'd pretended all along not to see it, though she'd really searched it out first thing that morning.  It was the only gift marked for her that could possibly be the bracelet she longed for, and she wanted to savor the anticipation for as long as she could. 

Finally, when she could hardly wait any longer, her father crawled under the tree to pull out the last, lonely gift.  His eyes were bright with the same happy glow hers were when he beamed, "Cassy Lynn, it looks like you forgot one."  Although, she knew that he knew she hadn't forgotten at all.

Slowly taking the package in hand, she very gently unwrapped it, balancing the cardboard jewelry box on her palm for a breath before painstakingly lifting the lid. 

Distracted as she was by her two younger daughters, Cassy's mom didn't witness the heartache her oldest endured when she found nestled in the soft cotton a shining gold bracelet, adorned with not one dangling charm but several.  In fact, the whole gaudy chain was dripping with cutesy little girl's charms: a panda bear, a bunny rabbit, a Scotty dog, even a Siamese kitten with emerald stones for its eyes.

Granted, it was a gold bracelet, but it wasn't anything like what she wanted, and it was all she could do to still her trembling lips with a smile for the sake of the man who eagerly watched her with his own anticipation.  He wanted so much for her to be happy that she didn't dare disappoint him with her own selfish emotions.  After all, it wasn't his fault her mom only knew how to buy dumb, stupid gifts.

"Well, do you like it?"  He asked.  "Is it the same one you wanted?"

"It's... it looks like real gold," she managed, hiding her eyes from his gaze as she studied the tag.  "Fourteen carat."

"Why don't you let Dad have a look-see, and I'll put it on for you." 

Cassy's hand shook as she handed over the bracelet, her façade crumbling completely when he innocently asked, "Where's your name engraved on this thing?"

"It's not on there," she sighed as she tried to hang on to her tears.

"What do you mean, it's not on there?"  He demanded with a scowl toward her mother.  "Isn't that what makes it an ‘Ident', or whatever it was that you called it?"

 "It doesn't matter, Daddy," she lamely assured him as she saw her mother approaching.  Afraid they were going to argue again because of her, she insisted, "Really, it doesn't--"

Oblivious to the distress she had caused, Evelyn asked of her daughter, "Cassandra, would you like to help me serve brunch now that the gifts are all opened?"

Before she could utter a response, her dad answered for her.  "How about if I volunteer to help out?"  Though the words sounded kind, his dark eyes told of his anger, and Cassy knew she'd become the cause, once again, for his discontent toward her mother. 

No longer able to hold back her tears, she made a mad dash toward her bedroom as her parents battled it out in the kitchen.  But, as she rounded the corner into the hallway, she couldn't stop herself from listening to the words floating past the swinging wood doors.  As painful as it was to hear of their discord, it was harder to move on without knowing.

"It was the only thing she wanted, Evelyn; the one gift I asked you to take care of."

"And I did," her mother defended. "She wanted a gold bracelet, and that's what I bought her.  A much better quality of gold than those chintzy I.D. bracelets, too, I might add.  And this one was much cuter, I thought."

"I don't believe you!" The deep voice rose in his exasperation. "You knew exactly what is was that she asked for, and you still chose what you preferred, overall."  

Cassy heard the brunch plates rattle as he pulled them from the cabinet and slam-closed the door. "How could you purposely disappoint her that way?"

For a moment, there was nothing but silence emanating from the kitchen until she heard her mom's voice, meek-sounding and sad. "Cassandra didn't like the bracelet I picked out?"

"She had her heart set on something else, entirely," her father sighed, his own voice seeming to lose some of its anger.  "Evelyn, why couldn't you just get what she asked for?"

"I tried to, Robert.  Honestly, I did."  Defeated and sounding near tears, Cassy heard her mother rustle around the room before apparently finding and unzipping her purse.  "This is the bracelet she asked for."

Another short pause followed before her dad uttered, "Cassandr-... what?  What happened to the last letter?" 

"Oh, Robert.  I messed it all up, and I didn't want you to be mad.  So, I just kept my mouth shut," she confessed.  Heaving a martyred sigh, she went on to explain. 

"With all the holiday shopping going on, the store was crowded, and the salesperson was harried; most likely inexperienced, to boot.  She asked me to spell out the name letter by letter while she engraved it.  What she neglected to inform me was that there was an eight letter maximum...."

"She wanted the name ‘Cassy' engraved, not Cassandra," her dad muttered guiltily.

"Well, it might've been nice if someone had made me aware of that fact."  Evelyn's anger suddenly sparked, and Cassy grew fearful again until her mom's voice bemoaned in frustration, "By the time the mistake was realized, it was too late to repair it, and there were no other bracelets in stock; all the styles were sold out. Rather than leave empty-handed, I tried to pick out something comparable.  Apparently, the charm bracelet was a poor choice."

 Cassy had never heard her mom sound remorseful about anything, but her distress seemed genuine, and moreover, her father appeared to have forgiven her poor taste in jewelry as well.

"Oh, Ev," he said in that tone that usually precedes a comforting hug.  "I know you meant well.  I just hated to see Cassy Lynn so unhappy."

"I never meant to...."

"I know," he soothed.  "And we can still get her the I.D. bracelet after the holidays when they restock."

As she continued the trek to her bedroom, Cassy was still saddened over not getting her bracelet, but hearing her parents make up from their argument almost made up for it.  She hated the thought of them falling out of love with each other over a dumb old bracelet she really didn't need in the first place. 

She knew kids from school whose parents got divorced and never saw each other again because they couldn't stop fighting.  Some of her friends never got to see their fathers at all, making Cassy grateful for the time between business trips that she was allowed to have hers.  Like she'd told herself before, she could do without presents at all if it meant she'd always have her dad around. 

The mere thought of spending one single Christmas without him reduced her to tears all over again, which was how her father found her when he quietly entered to witness her sniffling and sobbing as she sat on her bed.

Settling himself on the edge of the mattress, he reached for a tissue and dabbed her damp cheeks.  "I'm sorry about your present, my sweet Cassy Lynn."

"It's okay, Daddy," she snuffed, embarrassed to tell him the real reason she was crying for fear of jinxing it.

"Your mom wants to take you to pick out a new one after the holidays," he promised.  "One like you wanted.  How does that sound?"

"It's just a silly bracelet.  Now that I've thought about it, I don't really need that other one. The charm bracelet she got me is fine."

"Well, we'll see about that."  He gave her a gentle pat on her thigh.  "Now, let's dry up those tears.  It's not proper to cry on Christmas; it spoils Jesus' birthday.  You wouldn't want somebody sobbing all over your party, now, would you?"

"Uh-uh," she giggled in spite of herself.

"I didn't think so," he chuckled. "Now, I need you to go eat some of Mom's overdone cookies or else she'll be the one crying...."

<>

Suddenly seeing the tears in her eyes, Tom automatically took her into his arms, chuckling softly as he soothed, "Aw, come on, Cassy.  They're just cookies.  It's nothing to cry about... really."

"They're just like the ones Mom used to make," she snuffled against his chest with a sigh.  "Back when my dad...."  Her words trailed off with another shuddering sigh.

Stepping back to hold her at arms length, her former spouse made no attempt to hide his dismay.  "Now, Cass... you're not going to convince me that your mother ever baked Christmas cookies.  Not Evelyn St. John, the queen of bah humbugs.  Nope.  No way.  Never.  Just couldn't happen...."

Once he had her smiling, he wiped her eyes with his thumbs and asked with concern, "You want me to stay and help trim the tree?"

"No, it's okay."  Preferring to bask in the memory of the dad she so dearly missed, Cassy declined the kind offer with a shake of her head.  "I'd rather do it myself."

"You sure?  I did a pretty good job with those lights...."

"No, you go on home.  I'm sure you have your own decorations to deal with."

"I don't know...."  He shrugged uncertainly.  "I might pass on all that this year." 

Before she could remind him of his declaration to celebrate in honor of others, he was halfway out the front door, pausing in the foyer to point at the ceiling.  "Don't forget to hang your mistletoe," he grinned.  "Who knows?  You might get lucky this year."

Heaving a put-upon sigh, she took aim with the cookie she held, but decided it wasn't worth getting crumbs on the floor.  Instead, she shot him a baleful glare as he opened the door.  "Goodbye, Tom."

"Bye."  He winked before slipping off into the night. 

~~~

One Tearful Christmas

Lisa J

Chapter Four

"Mmm, mmm.  These cookies are delicious!" Harry exclaimed as Tom strained to hear over the electronic ‘Rappin' Santa' perched on the break room counter.  Finally grabbing the obnoxious animatron by the neck and shoving it in the nearest cabinet, he turned a bemused grin on his captain, who continued spouting the merits of Cassy's slightly overdone cookies. 

"See, the super-sweet, moist frosting compliments the crispy, lesser-sweet cookie just right.  Not like those dry, unfrosted ones over there, or those gooey, overly-moist globs that someone pulled from the oven too soon.  This...," he gestured with his third cookie in hand.  "This is a Christmas cookie I can relate to."

"Harry, you're Jewish," Tom laughed.  "How can you relate to a Christmas cookie at all?"

"Ryan, let me tell you.  The way you people desecrate your religious celebration with gaudy gadgets and silly songs, such as that ‘Rappin' Santa' toy or Grandma getting plowed over by a reindeer, the food treats are about all I'm able to enjoy without sticking my foot into it with my Gentile friends," he explained.  "The whole Santa thing confuses me, if you want to know the truth.  With Chanukah, we simply celebrate a miracle, honoring the eight days of burning flame with the lighting of the Menorah and giving of gifts.  So, the need to create a fantasy figure to toss into the mix completely escapes me."

"Saint Nick isn't exactly a fantasy figure, Harry.  Granted, his existence doesn't really have anything to do with he birth of Jesus Christ, but he came to be involved in the holiday by his own celebration of the blessed event... er, I think.  I'm not really up on my history of Santa Claus, but I know Saint Nicholas--"

"Hey, what's this deep, philosophical conversation you two are involved in?"  Offering overflowing cups of eggnog to her two coworkers, Cassy innocently stepped into fray.  "This is supposed to be a party."

"Beats me," Harry shrugged, shaking his head.  "I was just enjoying a cookie."

"Or three," Tom grinned.  "But then again, who's counting?  Right, Skipper?"

"I was going home, anyway.  Frannie's expecting me for dinner."  Grabbing two more cookies, Harry headed off with frosting adorning his lip, muttering, "I just gotta take her one of these yummy things...."

"I'm heading out, too."  Tom handed his eggnog cup back to Cassy with a shudder.  "One polite cup is all I can manage of this nasty stuff."

"Me, too," she laughed.  "So, why're you leaving so early?  The party's in full swing here."

"Tell me about it."  He rolled his eyes as he retrieved ‘Rappin' Santa' from the cabinet and plopped him back on the counter.  "I've had about all I can handle.  Besides, I've still got shopping to do."

"Tom, it's Christmas Eve!"

"And your point is...?"

"You still haven't finished your shopping?!"

"I've done most of it," he huffed defensively.  "A lot of it...," he amended in reply to her skeptical smirk.   "Well... some of it, anyway."

"You're hopeless."  Shaking her head, she grasped his arm lightly.  "Hang on, I want to give you your present before you go."

"No, Cass.  Just put it under your tree or something," he sighed. "I didn't bring yours."

"Didn't bring it or haven't bought it?"

"My, my, look at the time!"  He feigned surprise as he glanced at his watch.  "Shouldn't you be getting ready to head to Miami for your family's celebration?"

 "Nice change of subject there, Thomas," she scoffed.  "Which reminds me, you never said what your plans for the holiday were."

"I'm working, remember?"

"You're on call.  That's not the same thing as working."

"It is if somebody kills Santa, or anyone else for that matter."  His crooked grin was disarming, but she didn't buy it.

"Tom, I'm serious," she sighed.  "You're not spending Christmas alone, are you?"

"I'm a big boy, Cassy."  He squeezed her chin affectionately.  "Besides, Daniel and Amanda invited me over to their place for Christmas dinner.  Look, I really gotta run.  Say hi to your family for me, and wish them a happy holiday." 

Quickly heading out the door, he turned to call out, "Merry Christmas, Cassy!"

 It didn't dawn on her until after he left that Tom mentioned Daniel and Amanda's invitation, but never said he'd accepted.  Somehow, she got the impression he hadn't. 

~~~

  "I hate malls.  I hate shopping.  And if I don't find a parking space soon, I'm about to start hating Christmas," Tom grumbled loudly as he drove around and around the lot looking for a free spot. 

  He once boasted about surviving Toys R Us on Christmas Eve, but he had more patience back then.  Plus, he'd been shopping for his three-year-old nephew in a gigantic toy store.  How could he go wrong?  The assignment this time around was a little more daunting. 

  This time he was shopping for Cassy.  And unlike his haphazard purchases from years past, this year he wanted her gift to be something special.  Something to show how much she meant to him, yet without making her think it meant something more....

  "Oh, this is hopeless!"  Slamming his hand on the steering wheel, he yelled out in frustration; both over the impossible goal he'd set for himself and the nonexistent parking spot he needed before he could even get started.

Then again..., Tom reasoned, if I can't park, I can't shop.  And if I can't shop, I don't have to worry about what to get Cassy.  I can just chuck it all in and go with Plan B; give her another gift certificate to the spa and be done with it.  

He'd almost decided on Plan B when he suddenly spied an open spot just a few slots down the aisle he was cruising.  Odd, he thought, because he'd just driven through less than two minutes before without seeing a single opening, and he never saw anyone leaving.  Rather than look a gift horse in the mouth, he took the space without question, happy to have one problem solved.

Quickly slipping his keys in his pocket, he headed off toward the mall, still completely lost as to what he was shopping for.  All he really knew was that after the events of September eleventh, he was determined to not to take his loved ones for granted.  And like it or not, partner, ex-wife or simply a friend, Cassy was someone he cherished; and giving her a meaningful gift at Christmas was the only way he knew how to show it.

Caught up in his quandary, he absently nodded at the Salvation Army Santa as he passed through the doors to the mall, completely heedless of the jolly, red-suited man falling in step beside him until he spoke.

"It's about time you got here."

Looking around uncertainly, Tom saw no one else within earshot, and wondered if the words were directed at him.  "Are you talking to me?"

"Nothing like waiting until the last minute, huh?"

Against his better judgment, he allowed the delinquent Santa to draw him into the confused conversation.  Although, he really wasn't in the mood to be dealing with some old drunk who couldn't keep a day job, which he suspected was the case with this one until he got a good look at the man.

To his complete and utter surprise, not only did the man appear completely coherent, but fairly well bred on top of that.  He wasn't even that old, as it turned out; fifty or fifty-five, tops.  With his twinkling blue eyes, he wasn't a bad looking man, either, underneath the white beard and stuffed jacket. 

It was then Tom decided he must've been a private Santa-for-hire who catered to the upscale country club set, possibly doing a bit of last minute shopping himself.  That still didn't explain why he was badgering an impatient, off-duty police officer who was simply trying to make his way through the mall.

Taking the bait, nonetheless, Tom asked, "Waiting until the last minute for what?" 

"Get your head in the game, son!"  The not-so-old man exclaimed. "For buying the most important gift on your list.  You better get a move on it, bub."

Bub?  "Look, no offense to you, Mr...."

"Claus."  He offered his hand.  "Santa Claus."

"Yeah, uh, right.  Well, look, Mr. Claus, I don't mean to be rude, but I really am in a hurry."

"Well, of course you are!  That's why I'm here to help you," he explained.  "Now, why don't we head over to--"

"I don't need any help, thank you.  I'm only here for one gift."

"A very important gift," he smiled.  "For someone very special."

"How would you know?"

"Why, it's in your eyes, don't you know?  The eyes are the windows to the soul and, boy, let me tell you, yours don't seem to have any curtains."  The red-suited man laughed heartily at his observation, which caused Tom to break out in a flustered blush. "Why don't you let old Santa give you a hand? I can help you find what you came for."

Backing away with hands held aloft, Tom shook his head wearily.  "I really don't have time for this.  Besides, I haven't even decided--"

"Whoa, slow down there, Tom.  You just about passed it."

"Passed what?  Wait, how did you know...?"

This time, it was the other man who walked away, leaving Tom to follow his footsteps.  Moving swiftly through the department store at the end of the mall, the stranger went directly to the jewelry counter as if he knew exactly what he was after.

Oh, man. I feel a con coming on here, Tom thought as he went along with the man.  Somehow, this guy's gonna try to play me, but he doesn't know I'm a cop.  I'm gonna end up busting Santa Claus on Christmas Eve, he sighed.

"Here you go, Tom."  Santa's eyes lit up excitedly.  "Here's what you're looking for."

How does this guy know my name, yet not realize I'm a cop?  He wondered.

 In fact, the more he thought about it, the more harmless the man seemed to be.  Not at all like any criminal he'd ever handled.  Furthermore, he really did seem sincere in wanting to help Tom choose a gift, for whatever the reason. 

Here, of all years, Tom was alone on Christmas, wanting more than ever to be with the family he cherished, yet he was perfectly willing to give a lonely stranger the boot simply for being in the same boat that he was.  Suddenly feeling like a heel, he decided to cut the poor guy some slack.  Besides, he really could use some help finding that gift.  And who better to ask than Santa himself?

~~~

One Tearful Christmas

Lisa J

Chapter Five

'Have yourself a merry little Christmas.... Let your love light shine....'

Snuggled up on the couch in her bathrobe, Cassy's gaze remained fixed on the twinkling lights of the tree, tears flowing freely as Christmas carols played softly behind her.  Despite her best efforts, she couldn't seem to stop crying, even though she knew it was childish.  Her father had been gone nearly twenty-five years, yet for some reason, this year she missed him more than ever before.

The Christmas season always held a melancholy note for her, simply because it had been his holiday; the one time of year he seemed truly content.  But this Christmas, those emotions reigned constant, as if she were mourning him all over again.  She guessed those feelings rose to the surface mostly out of sympathy for the victims of the recent terrorist attacks.  Just thinking about all those fatherless children brought to mind her own loss from so long ago.

'I'll have a blue Christmas without you....'  

It didn't matter what song was played on the radio, her tears flowed anew with the memories of each and every one as she heard it.  She imagined her dad's silly Elvis Presley impression, or the Bing Crosby voice he used to sing along with The Little Drummer Boy.  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break free from the past.

A loud knock on her front door suddenly pulled her thoughts into order, wondering who would be visiting so early on Christmas morning.  For a moment she considered not even answering, ashamed to be seen in such a state.  But another sharp knock soon followed the first, putting a swift halt to that notion.

"Cassy, are you in there?"  Tom's worried voice floated through the thick door.  "Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine, Sir Galahad," she muttered as she pulled open the door.  "What are you doing here?"

"I was planning to ask you the same thing."  Taking note of her tears, he once again pulled her into his arms to comfort her.  "You're not supposed to be home alone, crying on Christmas.  How come you're not in Miami?"

"I just couldn't do it this year, Tom."  Breaking free from the embrace, she shuffled back to the couch, tucking her feet beneath her as she grabbed a fresh wad of Kleenex from the box.  "I don't know what's wrong with me, but I just couldn't face my family this year.  Not without...."

"You're missing your dad," he stated sadly.

"Twenty-odd years after the fact."  She sighed, "Pretty silly, huh?"

"Not at all."  Taking his own seat beside her, Tom pulled her hand into his, gently kneading the tendons and muscles to help ease her tension.

"I'm missing my dad something awful this year," he commiserated, "and I just saw him last spring.  I think it has something to do with all those firefighters being lost; makes me appreciate him all the more for retiring safely."

"Yeah, that's part of what's up with me, too, I think."  While her hand was massaged between his two larger ones, Cassy felt herself slowly begin to relax.  It was nice to know he understood what she was feeling without laughing or making fun of her emotions.  "My dad wasn't a cop or firefighter, but he was still a hero to me."

"Did you ever see him again after your parents' divorce?"

"They were never divorced, not officially....

<>

Long after her sisters were asleep, Cassy liked to sneak out of bed to watch the twinkling Christmas tree lights glittering by the firelight in the otherwise darkened living room.  Oblivious to her lurking presence, her parents would often snuggle up on the couch, sharing a nightcap while staring into the fireplace much the way her eyes were glued to the tree.  Normally, they had Christmas carols playing on the Hi-Fi, but on that night the room was silent, save for their two ominous voices.

"Have you decided what you're going to tell the children?"

"Actually, I was hoping you might change your mind, so I could deliver good news rather than bad, " her father sighed.  "I can't spoil their Christmas that way, Evelyn."

"And I can't uproot my family to go off to Saudi Arabia.  I think it's unfair that you even expect us to go there."

"I expect it because you're my family.  Besides, it's only for two years.  When the project is finished--"

"Two years of raising my children alone in some Godforsaken country where they don't even speak English."

"You won't be alone--"

"That's what you said when you moved us to Florida.  Let's face it, Robert, you're married to your work, not me.  Those girls are my life now, and I think as young as they are, it's best that they stay here."

"So, what do you propose then, a divorce?"

"If that's what you want, but a simple separation until you decide what's important would suit me just fine," Evelyn explained.  "I love you, Robert. I always have, but my daughters come first now."

"What about Cassy?  Maybe she could come with me and the younger girls stay here.  She's old enough--"

"She's not old enough to raise herself, and you know as well as I that you simply don't have time in your life to be a parent."  Standing from the couch, she put her glass on the table and turned to her husband.  "You tell them whatever you want, but my girls won't be leaving the country... and neither will I."

Leaving him sitting speechless, she hurried out of the room, her damp eyes meeting Cassy's as she stood numb in the hallway.

<> 

 Something passed between Cassy and her mother that night, and their relationship never quite recovered from the blow.  Whether Evelyn thought Cassy resented her for sending her father away, or because she resented Cassy for being his first choice to take with him, Cassy never knew.  Either way, the mother-daughter bond was severed between them, and despite the many years that had passed, the two had never repaired their relationship; nor was it likely that they ever would.

"Your dad died of a heart attack, right?"

"Uh-huh."  Cassy nodded through fresh tears.  "He was pushing his crew to get an oil field job finished in time for the holidays.  He said he was going to come home...."

"I'm sorry, Cass," Tom crooned as he held her while she sobbed.  "I know how much you miss him."

"He shouldn't have died.  If he'd been near a hospital....  If he weren't out in the middle of the desert...."

"It was his choice, though, Cassy.  That was what he wanted."

"I know."  She sat up and wiped at her tears.  "But I said some awful things to my mom afterward.  I told her it was her fault for not making him stay with us; that she made him die because she didn't love him enough."

"I'm sure she knew you didn't really mean it."

 "She shipped me off to my grandmother's, didn't she?  I'm pretty sure she knew that I meant it.  Back then I did, anyway."

"Well, that goes a long way toward helping me understand why she's so bitter," Tom chuckled.

"Oh, and don't even get me started about the bracelet."  Cassy laughed as she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

"Hey, that reminds me.  The reason I came by in the first place was to drop off your gift.  It kind of caught me by surprise to actually find you at home."

"Yeah, it caught my mom by surprise, too, when I told her I wasn't going to attend family Christmas this year."

"Your prerogative," he smirked as he reached into his pocket to pull out a rectangular box.  "Here, open your present."

Doing as she was told, she pulled the top off of the box, and her eyes filled with tears all over again when she saw what he'd bought her.  "Oh, my....  Tom, how did you know?"

"Know?  I was clueless until Santa steered me in the right direction."  Taking the bracelet from her grasp, he fastened it around her wrist, grinning crookedly.  "I still wasn't sure if I should trust him, but this just seemed to have your name written all over it." 

He started to laugh but suddenly stopped short.  "Whoa, wait, they screwed it up!  Aw, Cass, I'm sorry.  I asked them to engrave Cassy, not--"

"Cassy Lynn," she sighed as she fingered the dangling heart charm attached to the nameplate.  "Oh, Tom.  It's perfect."

"You're sure you like it?  It's not too juvenile?  It looks like those cheap bracelets from the seventies, but with a little more class... and a lot more carats."

"I love it.  Thank you," she beamed, pulling her misty eyes from her treasure long enough to retrieve his gift from under the tree.  "Now, open yours."

As they spent the rest of the morning together laughing and sharing stories, Cassy noted that Tom seemed brighter for having her company to share on that Christmas.  Watching his gaze grow melancholy when he talked of his family, as well as his own past holiday gifts and disasters, she realized a person didn't have to lose a loved one to be lonely at Christmas. 

She knew Tom was missing his family terribly that year, and somehow, by having her own emotional crisis, she provided that familial net to make him to feel needed; not quite so alone, after all.  That's what the holiday really was all about, she decided; gathering with loved ones in His honor.  Whether bound by blood, romance or simply friendship, Christmas was a time to share joy with those whom you cherish; either in body or in spirit, if need be.

When she waved her smiling partner off for the day, she closed the door softly behind him, hearing a soft, familiar voice carried in with the breeze. ‘Merry Christmas to you, my sweet Cassy Lynn.'

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Daddy," she whispered.  "I love you."

THE END