All I want for Christmas are my memories

It was bad enough that Violet was coming home from the hospital with amnesia on Christmas Eve, but to make matters worse, there were two strange men fist fighting in front of her house.

“Stay in the car,” Violet’s sister said as she threw the car into park and unbuckled her seatbelt.

Violet watched as her older sister, Amelia, stormed up the driveway. The sudden burst of her voice froze each of the men in their tracks. Amelia swung her finger back and forth between the two men like a Louisville Slugger. The strange men stood there like children, hands dug deep into their respective pockets, flinching every time Amelia’s finger waved in their direction.

As Amelia unloaded on the two men, Violet sipped her peppermint tea and felt a swirl of emotions stir inside her. The faces of these two men were unfamiliar, however there was an undeniable emotional connection. The doctor explained this to her back at the hospital.

“Well Violet, the good news is the amnesia isn’t permanent. Now, over the next couple of days I want you to pay close attention to how you feel. While you might not remember something right away, you will feel an emotional connection to something or someone even before you remember who or what it is. Do you understand?”

Violet nodded, understanding the principle of what the doctor said, but not the why.

“Slowly but surely your memories will return, but until then try to use your emotional state as a guide.”

Violet made a face. This part sounded very familiar. Being led around by her heart instead of her head was apparently how she ended up in the hospital to begin with. “No problem,” she responded sheepishly.

The car door slammed shut again, snapping her out of the memory. Amelia let out a groan of frustration, “Look at the lawn, muddy footprints everywhere. Ugh! And were they trying to climb on the roof? What the hell is the matter with those two?”

Violet shrugged, “That depends, who are they?”

“Oh my gosh, that’s right. I’m sorry, Violet. I keep forgetting.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Good one,” Amelia makes a finger gun and winks at Violet. “How about I tell you once they’ve cleared out and we have you all settled inside?”

Violet turned her head to look out the window as the strange men cut through the lawn toward their cars.

“That sounds fine,” she said, the emotions inside her still swirling.

Then, both men turned to look back at Violet. Violet, not knowing where to look, made repeated eye contact with each of them. Her eyes ping-ponged back and forth between each set of eyes, and the swirl of emotions became a full-blown tornado of butterflies in her stomach.

One pair of eyes was dark and serious. The other pair was mischievous and green. And both pairs’ expressions softened when they noticed Violet looking in their direction.

All at once she really wanted to know who these two men were, and not at all.

*****

“I know it’s serious and all, but can I tell you that I envy you a little right now?” Amelia said, setting down two cups of hot chocolate.

Violet was curled up on one end of the sofa under a wool knit blanket. She raised her eyebrows and wondered where her sister was going with this. “Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“Do you remember who Bugs Bunny is?”

“Um, actually I do,” Violet said, confused but curious.

She paused to ask herself why -out of all the other memories that were fighting to resurface from the depths of her mind- was this cartoon still accessible? And, was it somehow indicative of where she found herself in life, having been bonked on the head like a cartoon coyote on Christmas Eve?

“Back when we were kids, and I didn’t know any better, there was this t-shirt that I wanted really bad…”

“Of Bugs Bunny dressed as Axel Rose!” Violet blurted out, interrupting her sister, excited to have remembered something on her own.

“Yes! Oh gosh. Anyway, I’d just like the relief, even for one glorious minute, not to feel the memory of how embarrassing it was to be seen wearing that shirt.”

Violet laughed, “As much as I loved that story, why are we talking about your poor wardrobe choices?”

“So you don’t feel too embarrassed when I tell you that those two fisticuffing idiots on the front lawn are the reason you have the twelve stitches of Christmas and no memory.”

Violet’s face went blank. She was shocked, and yet also not surprised. This piece of the puzzle fit nicely alongside her feelings from earlier.

“I’m going to need some hot chocolate. Can you make some?” asked Violet.

“Oh, sweetie. I already made the hot chocolate.”

Violet looked worried. She had no recollection of Amelia setting down the hot chocolate at the beginning of this conversation.

Amelia noticed the look on Violet’s face, “It’s okay. Remember, the doctor said this was going to happen.”

Violet felt embarrassed. The doctor did mention this. There are two types of amnesia, retrograde and anterograde, and for a short time Violet would be suffering from both.

Retrograde erased her memories acquired before the incident, while anterograde would keep her from making new memories.

“Violet, it is important to remember that as you recover, your brain will, at first, have some trouble making new short term memories,” the doctor had told her, “Occasionally you’ll forget a detail here or there, or sometimes an entire event. Don’t let this discourage you.”

Violet let the irony of telling an amnesiac that something is ‘important to remember’ amuse her and tried not to panic at the idea of having whole events disappear from her reality.

Back in the living room, Amelia was holding the hot chocolate in front of Violet’s face for her to take. Violet smiled and took the cup from her.

“So you didn’t remember me bringing in the hot chocolate, that’s not so bad,” Amelia said, trying to make Violet feel better.

“I guess not. Let’s just hope I don’t forget something worse.”

“Speaking of which, let’s get back to those two idiots from earlier.”

“Yes, let’s.”

“You were dating them both.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Violet had no memory of this, but it was another huge chunk of the puzzle that snapped all too easily into place.

“Sorry, that came out wrong. You had dated them both, at different times, and then broke up with them both.”

“So, they teamed up and hit me over the head with a mallet?”

“Actually, they both came over to propose to you.”

“Both of them!?” Violet couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You heard me right. You were proposed to twice, on the same day, that day being Christmas Eve. I’m surprised it was just the two of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a third man.”

Violet took this news with a hard gulp of hot chocolate that hurt her throat. “Um, do you have anything stronger than hot chocolate?”

“Eggnog?”

Violet made a face, “Hm, nevermind.”

“Do you want me to go on?”

“I’m guessing since they were duking it out when we pulled up, and the lack of ring on my finger, means I turned them both down.”

“You’re a heartbreaker.”

“Who are they?”

Amelia was gearing up to respond when suddenly there was a knock on the door. She got up from the sofa in a huff, “You have got to be kidding me!”

Violet tried to sink deeper into the blanket.

Amelia swung the door open and on the other side was dark and serious.

“What do you want, Colin?” she asked flatly.

Colin was holding up a bouquet flowers as if it were a protective shield between him and whatever wrath he might incur from Amelia for showing his face again so soon.

“I just wanted to know if she’s alright,” he said.

“She’s fine. Thanks for stopping by,” Amelia said bluntly before trying to swing the door closed. Colin’s hand stopped it.

“Wait, Amelia. Can I see her?”

Amelia started to give Colin a detailed account on exactly why he could not come in to see her sister. Meanwhile, through the backdoor in the kitchen, mischievous and green quietly snuck in and approached the lump of blanket.

“Hey Vi,” he said softly.

If her mouth were full of hot chocolate she would have spit it out. Violet’s heart was racing. She pulled the blanket away from her face and there in front of her, on one knee, was mischievous and green.

“Amelia explained to us what happened, so I thought, maybe I should do this again.”

“How did you get in?”

“Spare key.” He said it more like a question than an answer.

At least Violet’s emotions were spot on with coloring this one mischievous.

“Did she also tell you that I don’t remember who you are?”

His expression didn’t change, “She did, but I thought maybe this would jog your memory.”

“It’s sweet, I think, but I don’t even remember your name.

“Hugh,” he said. “You would call me Hughie sometimes.”

“Nice to meet you again, Hughie.”

“So, will you?” He held out the box with the ring. It sparkled and reflected all the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. Had she not been interrupted, the moment might have lured her into saying, yes.

“Oh for cryin’ out loud!” Amelia shouted from the other side of the room.

This startled Violet and Hugh.

“Nope, nope, nope, nope. Get out! Merry Christmas and out you go.” Amelia, now holding the bouquet of flowers, used it to usher Hugh across the room and out the front door.

And, when Amelia swung the bouquet around as if it were a medieval flail, something came loose and landed in front of Violet. At first she thought it was a flower head, falling amidst the cascade of petals now decorating her living room carpet.

“A present?” Violet said to herself as she reached out and picked it up. There was small writing on the top of the box.

Suddenly, tapping from the window. It was Colin, desperately opening and closing his hands unintentionally mimicking the shape of a clam.

Violet had a brief memory surface. She was breaking up with Colin at a seafood restaurant. He was making a terrible metaphor about how his tears were salty like the ocean. It was bad, but it was also funny, funny enough to make Violet laugh a little.

Colin mistook this smile for acceptance, and started shouting, “Marry me,” at the top of his lungs.

Violet’s eyes widened. She looked at the box for help. It was no help. Especially because those exact words were poorly scribbled on its top.

Amelia was help. She returned from chasing out Hugh just in time to scream, “Go away, or I’m calling the cops,” at Colin before drawing the curtain and falling heavily onto the couch.

“What do you do to these men?”

“I wish I could remember. Or maybe I don’t.” Violet wasn’t sure.

“Four proposals, at least it’s over now.”

“Amelia?”

“Yeah?”

“I know by now it should be obvious how their behavior led to me getting my skull cracked open, but you still haven’t told me exactly how it happened.”

“Right! Sorry. It’s weird actually. They arrived at about the same time to, well, you know, and started round one of tearing up the front lawn. That’s when you came out and tried to get them to stop. I guess it was all the commotion, because an icicle broke loose. And, you know the rest.”

Violet became pensive. Something wasn’t right. Something was missing.

“Violet?” Amelia said cautiously, “You okay?”

No. Not something. Someone was missing.

A flood of memories rushed into Violet’s mind. Earlier there was a voice from inside the house. At first she was scared, but as the voice continued singing it became more familiar.

“Where are you?” She had said to the voice.

“Coming down the chimney,” the voice replied. “And I have something to ask you.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“Out of my mind for you. Just wait one minute.”

Violet waited, but the minute was taking a little too long. The sounds coming from the chimney weren’t quite right.

“Are you okay in there?” Violet asked the voice.

“Um, I think I’m stuck, can you get a ladder or something.”

“You know, grand romantic gestures really should come with a disclaimer.”

Violet was on her way to the garage to get the ladder, when she noticed her two idiot ex-boyfriends wrestling on the front lawn. She might have to deal with this first.

When Violet stepped outside to confront Colin and Hugh, she had no idea that the snow and ice from the roof was loose, because a certain someone walked all over it.

“Robert!” Violet screamed, coming to the sudden realization that he was still in the chimney.

Amelia nearly fell out of her chair from fright. “Hey, you remembered something.”

“He’s in the chimney!”

“What? Why?”

“It’s a long story, but we need to get him out!”

“Alright, alright. Relax. We’ll get him out.” Amelia had her phone out and was already calling emergency services.

*****

Robert was lying in a hospital bed. Violet and her twelve stitches sat by his side, hugging his filthy Santa suit. Amelia was asleep on a couch in the waiting room.

Slowly, Robert cracked open his eyes. “Violet?”

Violet’s head whipped around. She softly touched his forehead. “Hey, hey. I’m here. Do you need anything?”

Robert exhaled something past his dry lips too soft for her to hear, so she leaned in, and he repeated it.

“Merry Christmas.”

Violet smiled. The events of the night were spotty in her mind, and not every memory from her past had returned. Still, the memories of this man were warm. She pictured telling her grandchildren this story, and showing them her scar. And, then without any hesitation, she whispered into Robert's ear, “Will you marry me?”