Friday, December 2, 2016

18. Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve

            He loved this girl. Really loved her.  He put his Christmas gift into her hands.  She carefully unwrapped a small box about 12 by 6 inches, covered in snowflake paper.
            “Oh, I love it!” she exclaimed, eyes sparkling. She lifted a stuffed lion sitting on its haunches.  
            “He has more of a purr than a growl about him though,” she said, rubbing its soft mane on his face.  She purred. She had often called him her lion.
            “No, look closer,” he corrected her.
            “What? Where? Oh, there’s something around his neck.”
She peered at the tiniest of gems hanging from a thread-thin gold chain wrapped twice around the lion’s mane. 
            “It’s a diamond,” he said, his embarrassment evident.
            “Oh.”
            “You can wear it.”
            She carefully removed the delicate necklace from her lion and held it to the light.
            “”It’s very nice,” she offered, then dutifully put it around her own neck
            “I know it’s small,” he said lamely,
            “Oh, but it’s pretty,” she said and smiled too brightly. 
            He saw a complexity of doubt, surprise and resignation cross her face.  He thought of the leather wallet that he had already stuffed in his pocket that he had been very glad to receive.
            On his drive home to Bellerose his thoughts bolstered his resolve. 
            “What did she expect?  For me to spend a fortune?  I have my relatives to buy for. It’s perfectly fine the way it is.”  Thoughts like these drove him the whole way home.  They put him to bed and sang him to sleep.
            He woke and opened his eyes to complete darkness.  He heard a distant rumbling. A purr. No, a low growl.  He turned on his bedside light and there on the end of his bed was seated the same lion he had given to Eve. It bared its teeth, and roared.
            “I did the best I could,” he told the lion. It bared its teeth and hissed.
            “I thought she’d like it,” he continued.  The lion growled again, more menacingly.
            “She didn’t though; her face gave her away.”  Another roar.
            “I made her feel (a ferocious snarl from the lion) small.”
            He looked into the lion’s angry eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”
            The lion charged, landing on his chest, pushing him backward, paws pressing painfully on his throat.
            “And I made her comfort me and insist that it was OK,” he said breathily.
            The lion sat back and glared at him.
            “I wish I could do it over.  I never want to see her eyes like that.”
            The lion stood, turned its back on him and walked to the edge of the bed. It jumped down to the floor and was gone.
            The next day he pulled up in front of her house but she came running out and threw her arms around his neck.
They got into his car and before he drove off she turned to him and said, “Look, isn’t it gorgeous?”

The necklace dangled against black velvet. A heart of diamonds.

(502 words)

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