The Man I Met At Christmas

I don't remember a lot of things these days. It's like I'm stuck in a time loop without him.

There are tear and blood stains on my arm that I can't identify anymore. My hair sticks to the sweat on the back of my neck uncomfortably.

I open my rickety old closet. The door squeaks and gasps for air about ready to disintegrate. All my clothes are stained from past meals. I pull on a tie-dye T-shirt and sulk out the door.

"Miss.Taner?" A girl asks with lantern-like eyes staring up at me. "It's Mrs.Taner." I say. "Mrs?" the girl looks around expectantly "Where's your husband?" I suck at my teeth. "Dead I'm afraid."

"Now if you don't mind I have to get to work!" I snap. "It's Christmas." The girl says "With all do respect, no one works during Christmas."

I check the calendar on my phone. December twenty fifth. How could I forget?

"Well what do you want? A kiss on the cheek?" I ask rudely. "No." The girl says "Will you make donations for the orphanage?" She holds up a tin can. It's relatively empty besides a single mexican peso. "I don't just carry coins around on me. Sorry kid." I say and walk away. "Oh then," I can tell she's disappointed "Merry Christmas Mrs.Taner!"

If today is Christmas I'll just make myself some strong coffee and watch New York from my window.

I turn the doorknob to my apartment and slip inside. I lock the door carelessly and throw my keys into an old jewelry dish. The rabbit's foot attached to it hangs off the edge.

I sit down and grab my ukulele. I start to sing.

It used to be so simple, wake up...live your life...got to bed. Now I want something more. I want my story read.

I've spent my whole life without knowing what I am. Now the light is shining and I'm up...again..."

There's a knock on the door. I cover my mouth thinking I might be able to shove the song back in my mouth. "Who's there?" I ask. "Alen Danly...your neighbor." A voice says through the door.

"You come here to tell me to shut up?" I ask. "No." The man says "In fact it's the exact opposite." I roll my eyes.

"Does 'the exact opposite' mean you're here to shoot me in the mouth?" I ask smuggly "Do you have a gun Mr.Danly?"

The man chuckles through the door "I hope not." He says "Just a plant for my neighbor." I narrow my eyes. "What is this plant?" I ask "Poison ivy?" He laughs again. "No, they're sunflowers." he says

I've always loved sunflowers. I love how they're so simple.

"Why?" I ask. "It's Christmas!" The man laughs "I'm just being neighborly!" I narrow my eyes until I can hardly see. "Are the words 'It's Christmas' supposed to mean something to me?" I scoff. "Doesn't it?" The man asks softly. I don't answer. I open up the door.

Alen is a young man about my age. He has dark brown hair and light blue eyes. "Here." He puts the sunflowers down on my kitchen shelf.

"You alone this Christmas?" He asks. "Yeah." I say "You?" he nods. "We could be alone together if you want." He says. I only nod.

He sits down on my couch. "Would you like some tea?" I ask awkwardly. "No let me make you tea." He says "I'm in your home after all."

He gets up and reaches for a rusty teapot on the top shelf. He lets water boil and turns to talk to me. "What's your name?" He asks. "Olivia, Olivia Taner." I say awkwardly.

"That's a pretty name." Alen says. "You're aren't really complimenting me, you're complimenting my mom's vocabulary." I say. He laughs "I never thought about it that way." I laugh a little too. "Not most people do."

He pours the water into two mugs and puts a tea bag in each. "I hear british people think it's weird that Americans drink tea with the bag still in it." Alen says. "Is that so?" I laugh. That has to be the most random thing I've ever heard.

He hands me a mug with pac-man on it. I sip the tea gratefully.

"Hmm...would you happen to be single?" Alen asks. I choke on my tea. "I-I am...my husband died last year." I say.

My husband, Tom, died of cancer last year. I was young and stupid when I married him. Only twenty. We were married for five years before he died. I'm still young at twenty six. I miss him every day.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Alen says. "Oh, Tom was a great man." I say "But he's dead now and nothing I do or say can change that."

"I think ice skating might help." Alen says. "I can't skate." I say blankly. "I can teach you!" Alen laughs

*

"Alen you jerk!" I say as I run into a wall "You said you would push on three not two!" I struggle to get up but my knees buckle and I fall back on the ground.

Alen laughs as he pulls me up with one arm. "I did say three!" Alen laughs "You were just too busy screaming to notice!"

He glides so easily across the ice. Someone might think he's flying.

"Remember to keep moving!" Alen says as I slow down. He pushes me and I fly forward.

I swerve around quickly. "Alen!" I say in a sing songy voice "I think I'm getting the hang of it!" I am...in a way. The only problem is I can't stop. I speed forward and knock into Alen. I land on top of him. He laughs hard and I fall off giggling.

*

Alen has been my husband for ten months now. He really helped pull me out of the dark hole I fell into when Tom died.

It took two whole years for him to propose! When he did I shouted yes so loud that people on the other side of New York were writing complaint letters.

Plus we've just found out that I'm pregnant. We had to move out of the apartment and move into a house. It was expensive but we afforded it because apparently I'm a great author. When my book was published it brought in enough money for us to move in.

We got a dog. A sweet little yorkie he named Loco. She is Loco.

Life is so great with him in it. With the man I met at christmas.