––––––––
On Christmas morning, rain pelted out a maddening symphony on the window over the kitchen sink. Susan lit her gas range and put the kettle on to boil. Opening the sliding glass door, she gently shoved her reluctant puppy out into the storm. While waiting for her computer to boot up, she nibbled out of a cottage cheese container. Bob's nails were scratching at the sliding glass door. She opened it. He ran in, tracking mud through the house.
Her Internet browser opened. She clicked on the e-mail link. Two messages arrived. She clicked the first one.
FROM: Roseluvswright Moderator
SUBJECT: Welcome to the Roseluvswright Group
Hello,
I've added you to my Roseluvswright group at Gobbledy Groups, a free, easy-to-use e-mail group service. As a member of this group, you may send messages to the entire group using just one e-mail address: Roseluvswright@gobbledygroups.com
If you don't want to belong to the Roseluvswright group, then be a party pooper and unsubscribe by replying to this message.
Regards,
Rose M. Smith, Moderator
P.S.
Sometimes moderators break our rules by adding subscribers to a group against their wishes. If this happens, please notify us at: Wellinever@gobbledygroups.com.
The kettle whistled. Susan poured steaming water over a tea bag and sugar in her cerulean mug and then returned to her seat. She clicked to open the next post.
FROM: Rainbeaux Van Dyke
SUBJECT: Merry Christmas
Rainbeaux has sent you a Christmas Card. Click on this link to take you to it.
http://www.quagmyre.net/cards/holiday/chris98373390
If your browser does not support the link, then copy and paste it into your browser window.
Susan clicked on the link and waited for the animated Christmas e-card to open. It was her only one. Oliver, the mailman, hadn't delivered any this year.
She heard Bob lapping water. Susan ran into the living room. "No, bad dog! No drink water from tree."
Bob turned and glanced at her, then lapped up some more.
"Get in your playpen! You get in your playpen."
He looked at her with those big brown sad Labrador retriever eyes. Water spilled out of the sides of his floppy black lips. The yellow dog retraced his muddy footprints to the kitchen.
Susan stared at the Norway spruce. No lights. No ornaments. No beads. No angel on top. She and Brandon had always hosted a tree trimming party. Their friends decorated it with them. And she made a big dinner, always on the first weekend of December.
She choked out the words, "Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Another Christmas apart...I miss you so much."
Susan stared in the corner, at the bags from the hardware and grocery stores. She had never wrapped the gifts she'd bought. Didn't matter anyhow. There was no one to exchange with. Gavin and Hank celebrated Hanukkah and she had missed the eight crazy nights. Rainbeaux hadn't turned into the girlfriend she'd hoped for. Well, that was a no brainer. Why would someone like Lt. Van Dyke want to hang out with a loser like her? And Johnny. It was apparent she'd screwed things up with him. For awhile she had thought he genuinely liked her too, he wasn't just feeling guilty that Brandon had died. Brandon had had lots of friends. She only had Brandon and Melody. And now there were none. The gas heat whooshed through the floor vent. Susan rubbed her arms.
Glancing down at the mud, she wasn't inspired to wipe it up. Instead she lumbered up the stairs and into her bedroom. Sleeping until late afternoon. The rain had stopped. The wind howled. Bob was whimpering at her bedroom door. She slid out of bed and stumbled down the stairs with the dog and let him out. She glanced at the screen saver. Mister Wright photos faded in and out. Wiggling the mouse, her e-mail opened. There was one post.
FROM: Rose M. Smith
TO: Roseluvswright@gobbledygroups.com
SUBJECT: MERRY CRHISTMAS;
HLELO TO ALL MY FRIENDS. MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HONIKA. PLEASE DON'T BE SHY WE ARE ALL FRIENDS HERE. INTRODUCE YOURSELFS.
LOVE,
YOUR FRIEND rOSE IN bARBEDOS.
Rose had started her own fan club.
FROM: Susan Cervini
TO: Roseluvswright@gobbledygroups.com
SUBJECT: Mister Wright's Delights
Hello Rose and All Members,
This must be a new fan club. Thank you for including me. What happened to the Mister Wright's Delights group?
Susan
Susan hit send and then opened the back door. A gust of cold wind blew in a crumpled brown oak leaf with the dog. Her affection starved pup jumped and wagged and licked and sniffed his human. She shut the door tight and locked it. Susan kissed his head and shuffled over to the pantry, with the dog on her feet. She grabbed a Scooby Snack and tossed it high in the air. Bob sprang up and chomped it. "Good boy, Bob. You're such a good boy."
Susan dispensed a glass of ice water from the side by side refrigerator before plopping in her desk chair. When she clicked on refresh, two messages arrived. She opened the first.
FROM: Rose M. Smith
TO: Roseluvswright@gobbledygroups.com
SUBJECT: Re: Mister Wright's Delights
hELLO lOUlOU. wELCOME TO MY NEW GROUP. yOU'LL LOVE IT HERE. wHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SONG? cOOKIES cRUMBLE GOT MAD AND DELETED THE MISER WRIGHTS DELITES GROUP.
LOVE,
YOUR FRIEND rOSE IN bARBEDOS
lOUlOU? Was she calling her Lou Lou? It was odd Cookies Crumble would delete the group she seemed so possessive and proud of it. Susan opened the next message.
FROM: Cookies Crumble
SUBJECT: Mister Wright's Delights
Susan Cervini,
For your information, I had no alternative but to delete my group that I had proudly created more than three years ago. Your outrageous slanderful defamatory post to the public list, about someone trying to murder Mister Wright ruined everything. How could you say such a thing? No one would ever try to murder Mister Wright. He's the most sweetest most lovable man in the earth.
Who do you think you are? You should be ashamed of yourself.
Cookie,
Former Owner of Mister Wright's Delights
Susan felt a tightness in her chest, a lump in her throat, and tears spilling down her cheeks. No one had ever spoken to her that way. Cookie was the one who had told her about the attempt on Mister Wright. Maybe Susan had replied to the list by accident, not to Cookie personally. It was still odd weird Cookie was denying what she had started. She hit the reply button.
TO: Cookies Crumble
FROM: SusanCervini@quagmyre.net
Subject: Re: Mister Wright's Delights
Dear Cookie,
First of all, I am very sorry that post went to the whole group. I meant for it to go privately to you. However, I do not understand why you are accusing me of making up a terrible rumor. You are the one that told me that a fan made an attempt on Mister Wright.
I hope we can clear this misunderstanding up quickly.
By the way, when and where is the concert?
Susan
Tears streamed down her face as she hit send. She worried about getting electrocuted from the saline dripping into her keyboard. Nobody had ever treated her that way. Hopefully this would clear the terrible misunderstanding up.
Susan opened the freezer compartment of her refrigerator. Ice cubes, the marinated shrimp from the canceled dinner for Rainbeaux, and a bag of okra greeted her. No ice cream. She let the door close on its own.
The refrigerator held only a trickle of skim milk, some leftover chicken, and a dried out piece of American cheese.
Susan lumbered up the stairs, hoisting herself with the oak banister. She changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, pulled her hair into a ponytail, then slipped on her socks, shoes and raincoat. She locked up Bob and then left through the front door. The winter wind bit her face as she plodded to the Chinese restaurant eight blocks away. Susan figured nothing else would be open on Christmas Day.
* * * *
Las Vegas, Nevada
Zander whiled away Saturday night in the casino at the M. G. M. Grand Hotel. This had become a regular weekly ritual since he realized that his wife, Melody, was lost and gone...forever. By day he worked as a carpenter's helper, in the long blistering desert sun. By night, he drank a little beer. He pulled the handle a little. But he was disciplined and he limited the slots to twenty dollars. Then he'd head to the bar for three bottles of loneliness. It was better than drinking alone.
He plunked his last coin of the night in the slot and pulled the handle. Bar...bar...bar. Lights went off, a bell rang. Zander had hit the jackpot. An employee of the casino congratulated him and escorted him to the cashier. Zander had shuffled into the casino a lonesome weary carpenter. He strolled out a double millionaire.
* * * *
Once the taxes were paid and his net winnings had cleared his checking account, Zander settled all of their bills. All the credit cards and Melody's yellow Volkswagen. He kept it washed and waxed, parked under the carport, hoping someday she'd drive it again.
Zander got in touch with a financial planner, the one recommended by the bank manager, and let the professional invest his money. He had budgeted enough to pay his living expenses in the rental trailer, plus two good steak dinners each week, and he did splurge and switched from cable television to a satellite dish. Other than that, he maintained the same lifestyle. Zander kept his day job. He would never move from the trailer, because he wanted Melody find him when she returned from wherever she was.
And he'd made up his mind. When Melody did come home, he'd give her that kid she'd always wanted.
* * * *
New York
Susan ordered Kung Pao Chicken to go and plopped onto a rickety chair in front of the cold plate glass window. She perused the posters on the wall behind the cash register. The pagodas and beautiful gardens looked so sunny and exotic. She remembered when she and Melody were young and would play round robin world traveling as they whiled away the wet New York Springs. Oh, the places they'd go and the people they'd meet.
Susan's neighbor, Gavin, sauntered in. The thin, balding man was dressed in a designer trench coat and haute couture fedora. "Hey, Susan. Fancy seeing you here on Christmas. Usually I meet my Jewish friends. We ran into two couples at the movie theater today. How're you? Was Santa good to you this year?"
"Hi, Gavin. I haven't seen much of you lately."
"Business is great. Brownstones are smoking. We'll be in the millionaire's club again this year. Hank and I have been to eighteen closings already this month. Houses are hot."
"Congratulations."
Back at home, Susan gobbled her Chinese food, leaving just a smakerel in the bottom of the container for Bob. He lapped and gnawed at it. She clicked open her e-mail. There were two messages. She opened the first one.
FROM: Cookies Crumble
SUBJECT: RE: RE: Mister Wright's Delights
Susan Cervini,
I never said such a thing. I said to you, in confidence that a fan had made a move on Mister Wright. A romantic move. You have a sick mind thinking such a violent thought. Quit trying to be someone you aren't.
Cookie,
Former Owner of Mister Wright's Delights
Susan hit delete and bawled her eyes out. She blew her nose and squinted at the next post.
FROM: Loverboy3421
SUBJECT: Hello Love
Dearest Susan,
Merry Christmas from your secret admirer. Here's looking at you, sexy.
Lustfully yours,
Loverboy
Susan hyperventilated and yanked the electrical cords out of the wall. Some sick man is stalking me! She ran to the front door and made sure the deadbolt was locked. She wedged a broomstick in the track of the sliding glass door in the kitchen, before closing all the blinds in the house. Her heart pounded so fiercely it scared her. Susan used thumb tacks to drape sheets over the bay window in the living room. Bob whimpered, close at her feet.
Susan dialed her phone.
"Engine Ten—Ladder Ten, Captain Jackson, how may I direct your call?"
"Is Firefighter Newman available?"
"Who?"
"Newman. Johnny Newman."
"Hold on, ma'am."
She crouched in Bob's playpen and petted him, holding him close.
"Ma'am? He's not working on this shift."
"Oh...sorry. Thank you anyway."
"No problem."
"Good-bye."
They both hung up.
Susan turned all the lights out huddled in the playpen with Bob. The house had never creaked or settled as much as it did on this Christmas evening. She kept drifting off into nightmares.
* * * *
Bob jumped up. Susan's eyes flew open. She heard her front door opening. She tried to dial her phone but the battery was dead. Footsteps stomped into the kitchen. She screamed.
He screamed. "What's wrong?"
She jumped up, knocking the playpen into his legs. "Johnny! Johnny!" She hugged him.
A waterfall of tears shook Susan's body.
Johnny stepped into the enclosure. He yanked the bottom of his red flannel shirt out of his jeans and unbuttoned it as he went up. With a shirt tail in each hand, Johnny wiped Susan's emotion. "What's wrong?"
She just sobbed. Bob whined and cowered. Johnny stepped out of the playpen and then wrapped an arm around Susan's back and one behind her knees. He lifted her out. Carrying her into the living room, he sat on the sofa, with Susan in his lap. Cradling her head, he softly kissed above her brows. "There, there, it's all right. I'm here."
She curled up in his arms and concentrated on a button, midway up his bare chest. She rubbed the button between her fingers. Johnny. Good old Johnny. She felt so safe in his arms. Her knight in red flannel. My hero.
He softly stroked her hair. "What's wrong? Why were you in the dog pen? Why are you so frightened?"
"I'm being stalked!"
"What?" Johnny sat up, alarmed.
A soft knocking caught their attention. Knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock. Susan rolled off the couch, thudding onto the floor.
"You okay?"
"Sure." Susan crept down the hallway.
Johnny tailed her.
She peeked through the peep hole. Johnny brushed her aside and looked. He opened the door. Rainbeaux and a colorfully clad little girl stood grinning. Gavin and Hank pranced across the street and joined them. The little girl began singing "Jingle Bells." Rainbeaux, Gavin, and Hank joined her.
Susan smiled. She clapped once they were done. "Won't you please come in?"
Rainbeaux said, "This is my daughter, Quiana."
Susan shook the purple mitten off of the little girl's hand. "I've very pleased to meet you, Quiana. How old are you?"
"Six."
"First grade?"
"Yep."
"Do you like school?"
"Yep."
"Can you say anything besides yep?"
"Yep."
Everyone giggled.
Susan ushered them in and appropriated the carolers' coats, gloves, hats and scarves. As she hung them in the foyer closet, she noticed everyone had a gift with them. Good thing she'd bought—oops. She never did wrap them.
Susan asked Johnny, "Would you please take everyone into the kitchen to get sniffed?" Bob's barking and scratching and jumping was reaching a fevered pitch.
Johnny nodded and rubbed her back. "Are you okay now?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Un hunh. Rainbeaux, will you put the kettle on for hot chocolate?"
Gavin said, "Kettle? No, no you don't want that instant stuff. Hank and I brought cream, vanilla, and Belgian chocolates. We'll handle the hot stuff."
Susan smiled, "Thanks, boys."
As soon as the brigade paraded down the hall, Susan flew into the living room and expeditiously wrapped. Oh, shoot. I don't have anything for the little girl. Think Susan, think. She decorated the last pre-bought gift and paced the living room. She looked around. A globe on a stand, CD player, CDs, TV and DVDs. Pictures. Her wedding day. Melody, Momma, Bob. A statue of "The Kiss", drink coasters, the Bible, a romance novel, the curio cabinet. Yes. Susan opened it and gathered a Russian nesting set of penguins. She snuggled the little ones into the bigger ones until they were all inside of one. She dropped it into a snowman gift bag and stuffed red tissue paper on top.
As she finished up, Johnny came in. "Where are the tree trimmings?"
"Umm...they're still in the basement. I never got around—"
"Yeah, under the stairs." He hurried off.
Rainbeaux rushed in and switched on the radio. "They're playing Christmas music, all day." She tweaked the dial. It was full of static. Fishing around in the tangle of wires behind the stereo, Rainbeaux extricated out a thin knotted up wire. She said, "No wonder."
Susan asked, "No wonder what?"
"This is your antenna wire, girlfriend."
"Really?" Susan bent down for a closer look.
Rainbeaux used her long hot pink nails to unravel the kink. "Get me some Scotch tape or else a thumb tack."
Susan passed her the tape. Rainbeaux anchored the end of the antenna high up on the yellow living room wall. She then twisted the dial on the tuner. "Winter Wonderland" emanated into the now festive room.
Johnny and Quiana were stringing lights. Little colored lights, with different chase patterns. Then a string of snowman lights on the bottom and a string of gingerbread men lights in the center.
Gavin and Hank strolled into the happy room, bearing a tray of hot chocolate and a tray of cookies.
Gavin set them on the coffee table and asked, "What on earth is that sheet doing across the bay window?"
Susan's stomach knotted. In fear and embarrassment. She looked around the room at everyone. "Well, since I'm among friends, I guess I'll just get it out in the open. I received a threatening e-mail."
Hank gasped. Gavin rushed over and enveloped her in his arms. He patted the top of her head. "There-there, Susan. You poor girl."
Rainbeaux asked, "Details?"
Susan said, "Just a short 'I'm your secret admirer' type of thing.
Rainbeaux asked, "That's all? Check and see if there's a worm attached. That's about like the M. O. those darned hackers use."
Susan asked, "M. O.?"
Rainbeaux said, "Modus Operandi. You know, the kind of pattern criminals use."
Gavin scurried to the kitchen, plugged in and booted up the machine. Everyone trotted behind.
"I...I deleted the message."
Gavin said, "Good girl. I'll run your virus program and check the hard drive."
"Thanks," Susan said.
Johnny's eyes widened. He gulped his hot chocolate, as if chugging down a beer. Susan watched him lick his firm lips.
Gavin remained in the kitchen. Everyone else marched back toward the festive flirty tune "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?"
Johnny daydreamed of his plan to ask Susan to marry him before the ball dropped. As if she'd say yes now. But, she did take comfort in his arms. That was something. Anything to hold on to that might give him hope. Damn it, he was fighting for her. He had to have her as his own.
Susan asked Johnny, "So, do you think I don't have anything to worry about, it's just a system-wide worm?"
This wasn't the reaction Johnny had intended. He'd sent an e-mail that scared her. He was only trying to get her attention. Trying to flirt with her, maybe get some virtual sex going. Since she was so addicted to the friggin' computer. Well there was no way he could confess now, in front of everybody. "I don't know much about computers, other than to type special reports up at work." He meandered across the living room and yanked the sheet down from the window. Then he called to Quiana, "Wanna help me fold this, Qui-Qui Quack-Quack?"
"Yep." She scampered over, a sugar cookie in her mouth. She started shaking the sheet with Johnny. Before long, he had her completely wrapped like a mummy.
Her mother said, "All right you. Let's spin you loose and get home to bed."
Susan said, "Wait, I have gifts for you."
The exchange went well, everyone was politely pleased. As the guests were donning their outerwear, Johnny tugged an envelope out from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He handed it to Susan.
She smiled and opened it. "Thank you!"
Rainbeaux poked her head around so she could see what it contained. "Tickets to a Mister Wright concert! You lucky girl."
Susan said, "I've been trying to find my cousin, Melody. She's missing. She was a big fan of his and I thought I might be able to locate her at a concert. But I couldn't figure out when or where it was." She looked at Johnny.
Johnny said, "Didn't you call Ticketmaster?"
Susan blushed and dramatically thwacked her head with the palm of her hand.
"When and where is it?" Rainbeaux asked, "Do they have seats left?"
Johnny said, "It's next Saturday, in Austin."
Quiana said, "Austin is the capital of Texas."
Everyone looked at her.
Johnny said, "That's right."
"Can we go? Mommy, please?"
"Girl, what's in your brain? No we can't go. You've got school and Austin is a long way off."
"I don't have Saturday school."
"I mean it would take a week to drive there. You can't be missin' that much school. Miss Giese would have your hide."
"We can fly. Fly in and fly out." Quiana pleaded, with a heart melting smile, sans her two front teeth.
"I don't think so." Rainbeaux turned to Susan and wished her Merry Christmas and thanked her for the gifts.
Quiana did, too. Yep, she sure did.
Gavin and Hank blew butterfly kisses to their neighbor and bid her adieu.
Johnny cleared his throat and looked down at his black boots. "Um...if you'd like, I'll go with you, just to be like an extra set of eyes on the lookout for Melody."
"Really, Johnny? You would do that for me?" She melted. He was the sweetest guy.
"I'm here for you, Susan. That's what friends are for." Why can't you see how much I love you? Of course I'll go with you. That's part of my plan...
She stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, friend."
"I've got the next leave period, so it won't be a problem. Can you go down to the travel agency with me tomorrow and we can book our flight?"
"Flight? No, I'm not putting Bob in a crate in the cargo hold."
"Bob is going to the concert?"
"Well, we'll work that out when we get there. But no way can I not take him. He's all I've had..."
"Okay. So we'll drive. I'll have to look at a map. Man, I'll bet it's like two thousand miles. He doesn't get car sick, does he?"
"I don't know."
"Okay. Well then, I'll take my truck in for an oil change tomorrow and go down to AAA and let them figure out the best route to take. When can you leave?"
"Huh? Oh, anytime. That's the great thing about being a substitute teacher. I work when and where I want to."
"Okay, well then we'll figure on leaving day after tomorrow."
"Wednesday?"
"Wednesday."
He kissed her cheek and left.
* * * *
Susan's whole body tingled from where his lips burned her flesh. She wondered what it would be like if Johnny kissed her on the lips. Full on the lips. But how could that ever happen? He was such a gentleman, never did one thing to step over the line of propriety. Such a good man. New Year's Eve. Yes! New Year's Eve. If she could some how maneuver so that they'd be together on New Year's Eve, maybe she could kiss him at midnight. It'd all be in good fun. He wouldn't think anything improper about it. If she could just make sure they were together...