“Hon, did you say you’d rather have turkey or ham for Christmas dinner?” Trinette paused in the doorway, iPhone grocery list app at the ready.

“You know it doesn’t matter to me, Babe. Which one do you want?” the male voice responded from his spot in the recliner before the TV.

“You pick. You’re the one who hasn’t had a Christmas in a long time. You know, what with your parents and all…” Her voice trailed off nervously. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up. I just really want you to have a great holiday this year.”

His smile appeared genuine. Maybe she hadn’t reopened old wounds after all. “It’s going to be great. Doesn’t matter what we eat or wrap up for each other or which cookies you make. We have each other. Honestly, Trinette, that’s all I care about.”

She smiled back, relieved. “Me too.” It would be great to finally have someone to cook Christmas dinner for…well, with. Luck had truly cast a ray of hope down on her that year. Not only had she found a boyfriend with whom to share the holiday, but one who was also studying to be a chef. He’d suggested they cook a fancy dinner together after opening presents and watching a few Christmas movies.

Maybe she should pick up that fancy knife set he needed for his spring semester classes to go with the other presents she had stacked for him—wrapped in shiny, expensive foil paper—in her spare room’s closet. She’d run her credit card up higher than the amount she could pay off in a month for the first time in her life. *Oh well, he’s worth it. So sweet and giving. Maybe I can pick up a few overtime hours at work in the new year.*

“I think I’ll do a little present shopping before I hit the grocery store.” Implication played heavily in her smile.

“Now, Trinette, if you’re thinking about buying anything else for me, just forget it. You know I can’t keep up present-wise while I’m in school.”
“But you don’t need to! You don’t need to get me a thing. Spending Christmas with you is all the present I want. That’s really how I feel.”

“I know you do.” His features knit together in discomfort under thick, dark brows. “But you can understand why it makes me feel bad, right? Kinda like a leech.”

“Oh! Oh no, please, don’t feel that way. I was just gonna pick up a little something else for Daddy is all.”

“Speaking of, have you told them I’m coming to Christmas dinner this year?”

Then, it was Trinette’s features which screwed up with tension. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me.”

“Because you were the one going to college for the last four years, studying hard with no time for boyfriends. It’s all still brand new.” He grinned, understanding, his expression softening.

 

“You’re letting me off too easy. Daddy’s just not used to me being in a serious relationship. If it makes you feel any better, you’re the first guy I’ve dated who’s been important enough to share the holidays with.”

“If I’m honest, Babe, that makes me feel incredibly special. Maybe I should meet them before the big day to take some of the pressure off?”

There they were…and only one set left. Shining, silver representations of the love ebbing and flowing within her heart, building strength with each new swell. *It must be fate,* she thought, giddiness taking over as she imagined his face on Christmas morning after opening them. Her joy was cut short by the familiar ringtone sounding from her cell. She groaned inwardly—her boss, Randy, was calling…again. That couldn’t be good. She tucked the professional knife set safely into her cart under a red fleece blanket sprinkled with white reindeer shapes—visions of snuggling underneath with her love on Christmas morning driving the impulse behind its purchase.

“Hello?” She hated the hesitant inflection to her voice.

“Hi, Trinette, glad I caught you before the weekend was over.” She didn’t feel glad. “Hey, I need you to come in on Christmas. Just for a few hours in the morning, no big deal.” Her insides turned to steaming rot, making her abdomen cramp in response. Such a suggestion was a VERY big deal, of mammoth proportions even. “Sorry about this.” She could tell he definitely wasn’t. “We really need to get all the files compiled for year-end on the 26^th.” Who scheduled their year-end at Christmastime anyway? Had Randy’s family been direct descendants of Ebenezer Scrooge?

“I don’t really think I can, Randy. I already made plans with my boyfriend and par…”

He cut her off, as he almost always did. “Don’t worry, Trin...” She hated the way he shortened her name like that. No one else she knew called her Trin. “…you’ll be home to open presents by 6:00 PM worst case.”

“6:00 PM??!” The harsh edge to her tone conveyed the horror she felt. “You just said you needed me in the morning. I can’t work until six o’clock on Christmas Day. My parents are coming over for a dinner I have to help make…”

“Of course, I would pay you double-time, seeing as how it is Christmas Day.”

“But, Randy, some things are so much more important than money, like spending the holiday with your parents.” Or with your boyfriend of six months, one you felt pretty certain you wanted to marry someday.

“Oh, I get it, Trin. I’d be giving up time with family too, but it can’t be helped.”

“Can’t we just work late on Christmas Eve and even the day before or something?” Christmas Day wouldn’t arrive until Wednesday.

“Oh, sorry, Hon. I’ve got Christmas parties I need to show for on both Monday and Tuesday nights. Wednesday it will have to be. Really, you’ll just be missing that boring family crap, anyway. What do you say? We’ll get the worst of it done so we can drink ourselves stupid on New Year’s Eve, right?”

“I’m sorry, Randy, but Christmas is a really big deal to me and my family.”

“Oh. Wow. I really thought I’d hired a team player. Maybe I make a mistake, seeing as you were fresh out of college and don’t know what the corporate world is all about. The economy is really tough right now, and I have to make sure I protect everyone’s jobs by making the tough choices.”

Like working on the biggest family holiday of the year? Trinette seriously doubted such a thing could be completely necessary…but her resolve crumbled at the thought of not being able to pay her February rent, that and picturing herself scrambling to find another job that paid as well as her current gig. And then there was the prospect of moving back in with her parents. They would never let a boyfriend stay the night. No, losing her job simply couldn’t become a reality.

“Randy, you didn’t make a mistake. You know I’m dedicated. If you really need me to be there on Christmas…” She breathed out a sigh heavy with regret as a precursor to her next words. “I’ll be there.”

“That’s the spirit, Trin.” Her teeth ground together to the point of pain at yet another unwelcome shortening of her name. “I knew you’d come through for me.”

Had he? To think he’d be so confident she would cave to his enormously-unreasonable request made her second guess her decision. Before she could rethink the whole thing aloud, though, he spoke first.

“Don’t worry. I’ll have you out of there as quickly as we can manage. We’ll make a fun day of it. Order some Chinese, maybe even have a glass of bubbly to celebrate a successful year coming to a close. Don’t worry, Trin. I won’t forget your dedication, and I’ll make the sacrifice well worth your while.”

As she clicked the red End button, all Trinette could think was that she wasn’t sure she wanted him to do so. All of Randy’s rewards seemed to demand some exorbitant price.

“Trinette, what’s wrong?” he asked again for at least the fifth time.

“Really, nothing,” she managed to choke out again.

He kept trying to bury his need to convince her to open up. If he wrecked this thing he had going with her… She was like a second chance. He had always been so emotionally disconnected from his parents, which seemed to lead to a disconnect with the rest of the world. It had made him do some bad things in the past, but Trinette’s goodness, her pure heart, it just made him want to be better. To be someone who made a normal place in the world for himself. And for her. She was the reason he’d been able to hone in on something he really loved, enabling him to consider making a career out of that passion. He wouldn’t be enrolled in culinary school without her guidance and reassurance. She had given him a real chance…at a real life. He wouldn’t blow it.

He quietly continued to put away molasses, butter, cinnamon and the biggest turkey he’d ever set eyes upon. While contemplating all the little ways she’d been trying to make the approaching holiday special for him, he was ripped away from the sense of awe and appreciation at the first attempted muffle of a sob in one of the gingerbread-cookie-patterned tea towels.

“I knew it! I could tell something was bothering you. You were so happy when you left. Is it because I didn’t go shopping with you? Did you need help?”

“Oh no, Hon, of course not!” Her fingers swept over his back like the gentle touch of butterfly wings, and her eyes spoke nothing but truth. “I-I-I…” She choked so hard on the encroaching sobs that her words couldn’t find their way free.

“It’s okay, Trinette. You know you can tell me anything, and I’ll understand. Is planning this Christmas together too much too soon?” Each word of his question was like a meat cleaver to his heart. To think she didn’t want him for Christmas anymore ate away at him like a mouse at a chunk of cheese.

“No!” The fury of her reply made him jump. “To be honest…and don’t be mad…”

He didn’t feel he could ever be angry with her again if she would only confirm she wanted him.

“I wanted to go get you another present.”

“Oh Trinette Sweetheart, you didn’t actually think I’d be angry if you got me another present; did you? I just don’t want you to spend your money on me. I’m not trying to be one of those guys who keep score, but it hurts me that I’m unable to give you back as much in return.”

“But I don’t care about any of that. I don’t think you know what it means…” She descended into full-blown crying at that point.

“Trinette, what’s wrong? Did I do something? I don’t understand.”

She finally turned back to him then, her eyes rimmed in color reserved for the glass balls they’d hung on the needle-shedding tree occupying the far left corner of her living room. “I-I-I…” The rest of her words rushed out, fleeing from the strangling power of her sobs. “…don’t know why I bought any of this stuff. There isn’t even going to be a Christmas this…ye-ye-year.”

“What are you talking about? Of course there’s going to be a Christmas. We’re going to have your parents over and make dinner for them together. We’re going to open presents and watch movies.”

“No.” He didn’t understand. Even with his best attempt to reassure her, her sorrow had only intensified. Was she breaking up with him?

“We won’t be able to do any of those things,” she managed in a hoarse whisper.

His fingertips settled feather-light along her cheeks. “I don’t understand.”

“Randy.” The mention of her overbearing boss’ name made the familiar white-hot flame begin to build strength at his core. The flames, ignited and fed by his anger, licked their way up his spine and into his brain-pan, threatening to devour the foundation of change and calm Trinette had helped him construct. His will worked furiously at dousing them, beating the fiery fury back with waves of rationale and calm. *You haven’t even heard what he said to her yet. Keep that temper of yours in check. She deserves that.*

“Come on, Babe, out with it. Just tell me what that asshole did now.” He’d never liked the way the entitled jerk had kept her hours after the end of her day with no offer of additional pay. The man was disgusting, the way he talked down to her, threatening her job and taking credit for Trinette’s innovative ideas when he took them to the owner, who just happened to be Jerkface’s father.

“I have to go in to work on Christmas.” This revelation caused the flames to roar out of control inside his head once more. Trinette had been making plans for Christmas Day ever since they’d agreed to spend the holiday together on Halloween night. She’d painstakingly planned the menu for dinner with her parents, and he knew she’d been buying presents for him since before Halloween—wrapping each up in the fanciest paper he’d ever seen, each embellished by patterned ribbon, shining bows and even Christmas ornaments and candies. Each day in December they’d spent together a new flavor of cookie or fudge had been presented for him to try. No one, especially not his parents, had ever made him feel so special. Her generosity and unique brand of empathy had transformed his original intention toward her into that of committed relationship.

He fought even harder to tamp down his rage when her wince and soft cry drew his attention to just how tightly his fingers were delving into the supple flesh of her upper arms. Releasing his hold immediately, he swept her body into his arms instead. “Are you sure he meant Christmas Day?”

Her blonde head dropped onto his shoulder. “Positive. He said we wouldn’t be there past six. 6:00 PM! How can we make dinner together now?” Her voice disintegrated into sobbing once again.

“He can’t do that. I mean, Christmas used to be no more than a painful memory for me, but I know what it means to most people in the world. I know what it means to you, what you’ve made it mean to me. Him calling you in like that has to be illegal.”

Her grating scoff was punctuated by another sob. “He’s covering his butt this time. Said he’d pay me double-time. I told him the money didn’t matter to me, but…but…”

Before the tears could overtake her again, he gripped her shoulders—much more gently that time—and peered into her face, his nearly-black eyebrows raised in amusement. “Randy. Cheap-assed Randy offered to pay you double time?”

His expression and the incredulity in his tone managed to break the grip in which the sorrow held her. She ran a delicate finger under the dark lashes fringing one grey eye, carrying away the tear that threatened to fall. “The idea does seem pretty farfetched; doesn’t it?” She even managed a weak laugh, but the waterworks still threatened, pooling around her dove-colored irises.

“You know what? I want you to get your coat. I’m taking you out for an early Christmas dinner, and we’re going to figure this whole thing out.” When she parted her pink-frosted lips to protest, he leaned forward to silence her with a soft kiss. “I’m not taking no for an answer,” he insisted as he pulled away. “Think of tonight as an early Christmas present. Of course, even an elegant dinner can’t top what you’re going to find under the tree Christmas morning. And there will be a Christmas morning for us. I have a very strong feeling everything is going to work out just fine.”

“Trinette.” Full lips brushed over her own, stirring her from dreams. “I’ve gotta go down to the school this morning. Sorry to wake you up, but I just wanted to tell you goodbye and that I hope you have a really great day.”

“But I thought your classes were over?” Her voice was muted by lingering touches of sleep. The darkness in the room was absolute, no leak of light around the window shades. The hour must’ve been quite early. Would ICE even be open for him to attend class?

“I almost forgot. Chef Garrett set up an extra-credit project for me after I blew that wedding cake assignment.” She hadn’t known him to blow any assignment, ever. He’d never gotten anything less than an A on any test or project…which might explain why he hadn’t mentioned the failing grade.

“Oh, sorry, Hon. Wow, he’s having you get up so early.” She began to struggle against the covers in an attempt to sit up.

“No, Babe, you don’t need to get up. You still have a couple of hours before you have to get ready for work.” His warm hand smoothed over her hair. “Go back to sleep, okay?”

Trinette closed her eyes, lulled by the solace his touch brought to her. “Okay,” she managed through a yawn.

Certain no more than five minutes could’ve passed since she’d closed her eyes, Trinette forced her heavy eyelids to lift. Shock registered when she realized how much light framed the window coverings. As her foggy brain questioned how much time had actually passed since she’d spoken to her boyfriend before he’d left her that morning, the alarm on her phone blared out its warning that it was time to abandon her bed.

Her phone called out to her again the minute she pulled the candy-cane-patterned shower curtain aside to step into the tub. This time, Randy’s ringtone—changed after his last call to Jim Carrey singing “You’re a Mean One Mr. Grinch”—demanded her attention from its parking spot in the speaker dock on the counter.

“Oooooh, what do you want now, Jerk? Let me guess… Now, we have to work on New Year’s Day too!” she mumbled under her breath as she made her way over to her phone.

“Hi, Randy.” She couldn’t circumvent the aggravation which had wound its way into her voice. Couldn’t he have waited the hour and a half until she came into the office to deliver his latest blow? Trinette refused to grace him with a ‘Good morning.’ Her own brand of clandestine retaliation.

“H-hey, Trin.” He grunted slightly as if he might have run into the edge of his desk. “Errr, Trinette.” That was odd. Randy never stuttered, and he certainly never corrected himself regarding the shortening of her name.

“Randy, are you feeling okay?”

He paused and made a strange sound again. “Yeah, you know… I just started feeling bad about the whole Christmas thing. I wanted to call and apologize and tell you to go ahead and start your Christmas vacation today, paid of course.” His voice came out stiff and rehearsed as if the words were the last thing he actually wanted to say.

Trinette choked on the sip of gingerbread-flavored coffee she’d taken while he’d been speaking, spraying flecks of caramel-colored liquid all over the bathroom mirror. He didn’t ask her if she was okay.

“Just…come in on January 2^nd. Enjoy your holiday.” She thought she heard him attempt to speak her name again as his voice cut off at the other end.

“Randy? Randy, are you there? Did I hear you right?” But he was gone. The line was decidedly dead. Trinette stood holding her phone in a state of shock before a chill assaulted her naked body. What could have changed his mind? *It must have been his father.* The handful of times she’d met the senior Randy, the man had struck her as driven but fair…compassionate when he happened to mention a particular customer or employee.

“That must be it!” she said out loud, glee starting to materialize and take the place of the sullen disappointment which had settled into her bones. “He told his father about his little plan to make us work on Christmas Day, and Randall senior gave him what’s what!” Realization crept down slowly from the top of her head. “I don’t have to go to work today,” she squealed with delight as she padded back down the hall to her bedroom so she could slip back into her flannel, reindeer-patterned pajamas. Her head began to fill with festive possibilities. Should she start cooking dinner ahead or make more treats? Maybe she should pick up just a few more stocking stuffers at the mall.

“I should call my sweetie and tell him the good news.” After unlocking her home screen, she thought better of that idea. He could still be completing that cake-decorating assignment and become distracted if he knew she’d called. They typically never spoke during work or school hours unless it was to make plans during lunchtime on rare occasions. He might even think something was wrong and become completely derailed. *Nope, can’t risk it.*

She pushed the pad of her index finger against another contact instead. “Hey, Mom, were you up? Oh good. Guess what!”

“Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend…”

“Are you rehearsing my introduction?” He appeared behind her in the oval-shaped, full-length mirror, amusement curling the corners of his mouth and dark eyes.

“Well, today is the big day,” Trinette responded, her grey eyes backlit by happiness.

“You’ve just been so much happier this week. I can’t believe what a difference it made for you to be off work a few extra days. You’re too good for that place; you know that, right? You really should think about looking for something better in the new year.”

She tensed like a freshly-strung guitar, making him sorry he’d broached the subject. “I just don’t know… It took me six months to find that job, one I thought was actually paying me what I’m worth.”

Even though he wanted to argue that money wasn’t the only consideration, he swallowed the words. “Well, we certainly don’t have to worry about it today. And you have more than a week before you even have to go back. You never know; maybe you’ll get a promotion to go along with the extra vacation time. But I’m sorry I brought it up. Let’s just have a wonderful Christmas together.”

“I really love the sound of that.” She turned to face him, her muscles gradually relaxing as her body melded against his.

“Don’t you think we should go downstairs and open some presents?” he asked, his tone spiked with eagerness.

“I think,” she murmured, “you’re the only present I want to unwrap right now.” He felt the whisper of her lashes along his cheek as she stretched to unite her mouth with his.

As she kissed him, he thought about how perfect those lips were. He appreciated the fact they existed in flawless proportion to the rest of her. Trinette was all balance, equity. He didn’t think he could look at her if she’d inherited those too-full, pouty lips that seemed to belong, largely, to the shallow girls of the world. He wrapped his arms around her not-too-skinny, just-right torso... Yes, she was living perfection… But there were presents almost within arms’ reach, and he’d felt like a spider primed to scurry up the wall, so anxious was he to gauge her reaction to the one gift he was sure she would treasure most.

The soft press of her lips moved to more subdued ground, along his cheek. “You’re still thinking about the presents aren’t you?”

“Would it be terrible of me to say yes?” He chuckled nervously, hoping she wouldn’t get some silly notion in her head, like he suddenly found her any less attractive. There would be plenty of time later when all the excitement of the day was over. All sorts of scenarios, related to the spark he knew his gift would lend to their alone time that evening, were exploding to life inside his head as if his brain had become a projector playing a reel of innumerable possibilities.

“Well, I have been teasing you with all your packages for a couple of months now. I can’t blame you for being anxious to open them.”

“Oh…oh no!” He pushed her body out to the end of his arms’ length. “I can’t wait to see you open your present. I was able to find something I knew you really wanted at the last minute. Ever since I snagged it, I’ve been dying to see your reaction.”

“You didn’t need to get me anything else!” She narrowed her eyes to the point the grey almost became obscured and settled her hands on her hips. “You should be saving your money for school.”

“And you have rent and a car payment but still insisted on buying me too many gifts.” He kissed the tip of her perfectly-straight nose and gathered up her right hand. “This present didn’t cost me a thing, unless you count the time I spent making it for you. Yeah, I definitely made it for you.” He added the last sentence like spoken afterthought.

“That makes it even more special.” She combed her free hand through her long hair, sweeping the blonde strands away from her face. The smile she offered him was full of her innate sweetness. “What do you say we go find out what’s wrapped up in all that pretty paper under the tree? You’ve absolutely made me curious. I can’t wait to see what you made me that you say I wanted so badly. I can’t think of one thing I said I wanted that you could’ve made.”

His laughter forced his head back, the dark shock of hair lying over his forehead falling away to blend with their fellow strands. “You failed to tell me a single thing you wanted,” he teased good-naturedly. “I am a guy, ya know. We have a hard enough time Christmas shopping when there’s a healthy list.”

“Sorry. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to buy me anything while you’re trying to get through school. Spending today together is just…well, you couldn’t have given me a better present.”

He knew she meant it. Trinette was nothing if not sincere. “That is sweet of you to say, and you know I feel the same way, but I think you are really going to enjoy my present. It’s one of those gifts that keep giving. I am going to make you save it for last, though.

“I’m fine with that. In fact, I have one I’d like you to save for last too.”

He led her down the short set of carpeted stairs that opened out into the living room. There, the six-foot balsam fir greeted them with its embellishments of multi-colored lights, glass ornaments donated by Trinette’s mother and handmade flour-and-salt dough ornaments she’d helped to make during childhood. Her boyfriend had helped out in the decorating department with some brightly-painted ornaments in the shape of gingerbread cookies he’d found at Dollarama. Four stockings—their mouths spilling over with tiny wrapped gifts—adorned the ancient fireplace mantle which housed the dying embers of the fire he’d built before they’d gone to bed on Christmas Eve. Both of them loved the old house’s charm. The place was small and antiquated but undeniably cozy.

“I’m going to put on the coffee. Do you want me to grab you a gingerbread cookie?” he asked as he jogged into the tiny kitchen.

“For breakfast?” She giggled.

“Why not? Best part of being an adult. Eating what you want, when you want.”

“I suppose you’re right. Sure, I’ll have one. While you do that, I’ll make our present piles by the couch, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll just have to go and get your special one out of my trunk when it’s time.” He carefully measured out each scoop of gingerbread coffee, the spicy aroma already teasing Trinette’s brain awake when he removed the lid.

“Oh, are you sure you don’t want to go get it now? That way you don’t have to get up once we’re settled. Or I could go get it for you?”

“No, that’s okay. It’s better if it stays cold anyway, and I don’t want you peeking or trying too hard to guess what it is.” His handsome smile was full of mystery.

*It has to be some kind of food. It must be a special treat he made at school for us to share after we open our presents. If it’s something like a big cake, that would definitely satisfy the gift-that-keeps-giving requirement.* The greens, reds and blues of the lights strung around the tree blurred into bright distortions as she contemplated the hours and skill she imagined he’d leant to his creation of the fancy chef-worthy confection.

As she stacked the beautifully-wrapped packages at either end of the love seat, she couldn’t help but notice the imbalance in quantity. Maybe she had gone a tad overboard when shopping for her first serious boyfriend ever. There had been plenty of gifts for her parents under the tree to equalize the number before—and each of them had a stocking too. Her gifts from him hadn’t been added until the night before, so Trinette, only then, realized she’d wrapped three times the number of presents than he’d purchased for her. Not that she cared in the least, but boys could sometimes get hung up on the numbers, like life, in general, was a competition. She spread out his gifts in smaller piles instead of making one tall tower as she had with her own. Maybe he wouldn’t notice…

“Oh my god, Trinette! You went completely overboard. There must be twelve presents there.”

“Fifteen,” she whispered, lowering her gaze and drawing circles on the carpet with the toe of her green-and-red striped fuzzy-socks before she raised her head and released her next words in a rush. “But you can’t get mad. Some of them are really small things, not expensive at all. Besides, I know you gave so much of yourself and your time when you made…whatever-it-is for me. It all equals out.” She stretched her fingers forward to claim her mug, sprouting reindeer antlers and a red nose, from his hand. “Plus, you made the coffee. On Christmas morning that’s at least a five-present-worthy task.” He attempted a smile, but she could tell he wasn’t completely happy about the idea.

Ultimately, he didn’t want to fight with her on Christmas morning…and she was just trying to be sweet, to be good to him. *It’s not a competition,* he reminded himself. “Okay, I’ll cut you some slack because your one present is a big one.” His smile eased into authenticity, reaching up to spark his eyes.

She leaned forward to kiss him, leaving behind the lingering essence of ginger and cinnamon. “Awesome! I’ll grab our stockings.”

“Wow! I can’t believe you got me a set of Victorinix knives. I thought I’d have to sell a body part to get these for next semester. Thank you so much, Trinette.” He reached out to pull her into his body in a sideways hug.

“You are very welcome.” She turned her face to accept his kiss of gratitude. “I truly am happy to help.”

“I love everything. I really needed the shirts, and the Chef’s Edition Spicestack is going to come in handy too. It’s like you always know exactly what I need.”

“I love everything you gave me too. I especially love the “First Christmas Together” ornament. I’m going to hang it on the tree right now.”

He rose to his feet along with her. “Well, don’t take too long. Don’t forget; we saved your best present for last.”

“That’s right! With all the excitement, I almost forgot there was another one.”

He made his way over to her and tapped the new ornament lightly with his index finger. “This may be our first Christmas together, but I’m sure it won’t be our last.” He turned her body to face his and collected both her hands. “I never thought I’d find someone like you. All my life before you, I just couldn’t seem to stop getting into trouble. My dad always treated me like I was invisible, and my mother never really understood me. I kept lashing out at the world, even after they both died.” Trinette pulled her hands free so she could cradle his face in her slender fingers, compassion filling both large eyes the color of ash. “Everything changed when I met you. I wanted to be a better person. You gave my life direction.”

“Oh, C...”

“Wait.” He cut her off. “I know now that the direction is a good thing. I’m learning to do something I truly love as a career, but you’ve made me realize I don’t have to pretend. I don’t need to hold any of myself back,” he added when her expression reflected her confusion.

“Of course you don’t, but I don’t understand. What do you mean by saying you don’t have to pretend? You’ve been pretending to lo—to like me all these months?”

“That’s just it, Trinette. I do love you.” Her mouth and eyes exuded happiness, and he took that as a sign to move forward. “I just wanted to be completely normal for you. I’ve been trying to hide that part of me that isn’t like everyone else. I wanted to be perfect for you because you are just so perfect in every way. It’s like I said before, you always know just what I need. I know I can be myself without any more fear.”

“You can; you absolutely can. And I, I love you too.” Her voice was filled with such sincerity; he felt reassured once more by his choice of the person who would share his life.

“That’s what this last present is all about, sharing that other half of me I know you will now accept.” He pulled her fingers from his face and brought them to his lips. “Wait right here while I run out and get it. I’ll be back in just a minute.” As he rushed toward the door in his excitement, he snagged the keys to his battered Honda Civic out of the glass bowl on the small table by the door.

“He loves me,” Trinette breathed to no one but the smattering of plastic gingerbread men and women dangling from the fragrant branches. The thought drifted into a twist of curiosity regarding his final gift to her. She already knew he was a chef, so how could he share a part of himself he didn’t think she knew by making a special dessert for her? Maybe he possessed a real flair for cake decorating and making fancy desserts and was afraid she’d consider his talent too effeminate? She had eaten his dinners, lunches and breakfasts many times but realized he’d never made a dessert for them to share. Boys could be so silly worrying about all that macho stuff…but wasn’t it so sweet the way he worried about what she thought of him? Maybe she should ask him to move in. He could help her with the rent and wouldn’t have to live in the noisy dorm anymore. “And he loves me,” she finished aloud, the meaning behind the words setting her blood alight like her body had been infiltrated by a thousand fireflies.

“Here we go.” So lost in her own thoughts, Trinette hadn’t even heard him close the door. There was no mistaking his presence now as he stomped the snow noisily from his boots. She took a step toward him to help him with the large square package wrapped prettily in shiny crimson foil and bound on either side by blood-red ribbon which blossomed in a flourish, rose-like, across the top.

“Oh wow! That’s gorgeous. Did you wrap it yourself?”

His eyes were aglow like he’d swallowed those same fireflies. “Sure did…though it did take me at least five tries to get it right.”

“And I’m about to ruin your masterpiece in the space of about ten seconds.”

He hastened over to her, arms and gift extended. “Ruin away.”

“Holy cow, this is really heavy!” *It must be a cake. Cakes are pretty heavy. Better act like I have no idea what it is.* “What did you get me, a bowling ball?” Trinette struggled with the weight of the box filling her arms.

“No,” he chuckled, joy dancing in his coal-black eyes. “I wouldn’t get you anything so boring.”

“Hey, I happen to like bowling,” she teased in response. “Now that I think about it, we should go sometime. But maybe I should put this down on the kitchen counter? It really is heavy…and it feels wet on the bottom. Is it leaking?” Her blonde head inclined toward the bottom of the package where she tried, unsuccessfully, to catch sight of the sticky wet soaking onto one arm.

“Maybe the temperature wasn’t cold enough to keep it frozen last night after all.” He grimaced, mirroring her movement and peeking under the sizeable box as well.

“Let’s get it into the kitchen before it drips on the carpet.”

Hastily, he snatched up a few wads of discarded wrapping paper and spread them out around her feet. “No, please, don’t move a muscle. I want you to open this one right here by the tree, by our special ornament. Please. And you’ll be able to see better if you’re holding the box. I can help you with it. The top lifts right off, so I can do that part if you just hold onto it.”

“Well, you’d better hurry. I don’t think I can hold it up much longer. Guess I need to spend more time at the gym.” Her giggle slipped free, laced with an edge of hysteria brought on by his latest request. *Is he going to propose? After only six months? But why else would he have me stand by our ornament in such a symbolic way? Why else would he need me to see his cake up close? He must’ve put a ring on top or something… How could he afford a ring?* Her thoughts raced around and around like a whirlwind, making her feel lightheaded, and she swayed drunkenly on her feet. Right before her arms failed her, he came to Trinette’s rescue, gripping the sides of the box before it could crash to the floor.

“Hey, be careful, there,” his tone remained calm, but she could see the heated level of stress in his eyes.

*Stop daydreaming and focus on the moment, Trinette,* she scolded herself internally. “I’m so sorry! I know how hard you must’ve worked on your present. It’s okay; I just needed a second to rest… Is that strawberry?” But the box was already being thrust back into her arms, eliminating the chance for any further examination of the scarlet splotch glazing her forearm. “You know me just as well as I do you. Strawberry’s definitely my favorite flavor.”

Confusion darkened his features as he peered at her over the flounce of sparkling bow.

*Maybe it’s raspberry?* ”Okay, I’m ready. Let’s get this open before my arms give out again.”

The confusion had conceded to expectant elation. “Close your eyes, and I’ll count to three…but no peeking!” he instructed. His boyish grin infected her body with childlike exhilaration.

“I promise; I won’t” The soft color of her irises disappeared behind naked eyelids devoid of makeup. He took a moment to appreciate this untainted beauty; he thought her most beautiful when she skipped the eyeliner, shimmery shadow and mascara. His Trinette was perfect without any of the unnecessary embellishments she claimed to need.

“One…” She felt him begin to shimmy the lid free and wrapped her arms around the box tighter to secure the special gift.

“Two...” Both the shuffle-and-pop sound and momentum of the bottom portion breaking free from the lid screamed to her brain that the present had been revealed. She fought valiantly against the urge to open an eye just a crack. But then, the smell assaulted her. Had he used soured milk in the icing? No, this stench was more like rotting meat—the dead mouse she’d retrieved from under the sink a week after moving in. Was he playing some kind of trick on her?

“Three! You can open your eyes.” Eyes. Those were what she focused on first. Once-vibrant-blue iris and pupil alike shrouded by a film that reminded her of milk. Both dulled orbs were set in the backdrop of rotting flesh, green and purple lines of purification marbling the pale skin like a cut of meat from a GMO experiment gone horribly wrong. Black blood caked the sagging mouth, frozen open and aghast at the moment of death. A thin layer of ice-slicked across one cheek and capped a patch of the dirty blonde spikes of hair—creating the illusion of a crown of glass atop the squared forehead. Some part of Trinette’s mind was thankful for the partially-frozen condition of the chunk of dead flesh which helped to weaken the nauseating odor of the badly-decomposed flesh. Even in its degraded state, the severed body part inspired recognition in Trinette.

“Randy?” She whispered hoarsely. She tossed the box away, adrenaline pumping new strength into her overtaxed arms. She could barely summon enough volume to croak out, “Oh my god, Colden, what have you done?”

“I gave you exactly what you wanted. You love your job, but Randy always made going to work hell for you. You like his father, so now you can just work for him. You can be happy every day at work.” There was that muddled expression of his again, telling her she wasn’t exhibiting the appropriate reaction.

The cast-away box had completed its acrobatics across the floor, leaving a slimy trail of putrefied goo in its wake across the cream-colored carpet. What remained of Randy had made its escape and lay with his bulbous nose smashed against the floor, Christmas tree lights flashing garishly against the white cylinder of bone staring out from the ragged edges of rotting flesh. The rising tide of nausea threatening to engulf Trinette rose suddenly to crash over her like a wave, forcing her to further sully the pale carpet with a mixture of partially-digested, coffee-soaked gingerbread.

“Trinette! Are you okay?” When he rushed to her side and peered down into her face, the aspect of his features she found most alarming was his overall sense of normalcy. There wasn’t a single trace of shock or horror, not a hint of grief or shame as a consequence of the horrible atrocity he’d committed.

The young blonde’s hold on rationality slipped and fell away. “Of course I’m not okay,” she screeched, shoving him away from her with as much force as she could muster while sunk to her knees.

“I don’t understand. I thought you would want this more than anything. I thought it would solve all your problems. Wasn’t it the last straw, his asking you to come in on Christmas Day? I’ve never seen you as upset before the day you told me about that.”

“Colden, you murdered someone. Fixing the problem would’ve been helping me look for another job not killing my boss! Oh my god, can’t you see how twisted that is?” Her screaming gave way to sobbing as she fell back onto her bottom and scuttled away from the bloated sphere of decomposition not two feet away from her toes.

“But you hated him. You wanted him out of your life. I did that for you because I wanted to take care of you.”

“All you’ve managed to do is make me horrified, Colden,” she croaked out. “I can’t believe you’d be capable of such violence. After all these months, I-I-I don’t feel like I’ve ever known you at all.”

“That’s just it…” He moved toward her and extended his hand, hoping to help her rise from the floor. She smacked it away, revulsion crumpling her features. “You haven’t completely known me, not the real me. I thought I had to change, but it was hard…so hard. You’re the first person who’s ever seemed to accept me; it’s like everyone else’s instincts told them to stay away from me. You always seem to know what I need, even if I never voice it. You get me, Trinette.”

“I DON’T get this.” Her violently trembling finger indicated the rapidly thawing head, its stump of a neck leaking a new puddle of gore under the brilliantly-lit tree.

“Oh, but I think you do. You say I should’ve helped you look for another job instead, but when I suggested that very thing, you rejected the idea. I knew then it was a cry for help. A cry meant for the real me I’d buried deep down inside, asking him to take care of the problem in a way that wouldn’t hurt you. You shouldn’t have to leave the job you love. I knew the source of the problem had to be disposed of. I didn’t want you to lose anything.”

“Right about now, I think I’m losing my sanity.”

“Just think about it, Babe, and you’ll see this was the absolute best way. It was the sanest decision to be made. You don’t understand yet, but that’s because this is your first experience with…”

“Wait… Have you done this before?”

“That’s what I’m talking about. Once you get used to the idea, you’ll understand. I know you will. It was like that with my parents. They both made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. I told you what an asshole my dad was, and my mom just let him get away with his disrespectful shit my whole life. My god, she even made excuses for him. After they were truly gone from my life, I felt so free.”

“Oh my god, are you saying you killed your own parents too?”

“Yes, and it was the best decision of my life. If you’re completely honest, you’ll tell the truth. You’re happy to be rid of Randy forever, to know he’ll never ask you to work overtime almost every day for free, to never hear him call you ‘Trin’ again.”

“No! I might not have liked him, but I’d never wish him dead. I’d never wish that on anyone.”

“I don’t believe you. We’re more alike than you’ll admit. I could see your hatred for him in your eyes that night. You did wish him dead, and when you told me what he wanted, I wished him dead too. Did you know every single present you got for me was something I looked at in a store and wished I could have? We share a real connection, Babe. You just have to get over this one little shock. Then, I’ll take care of every problem you have for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of by a serial killer,” she whimpered. “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

“I’m actually someone who’s taking care of the world’s problems, Babe. You said it yourself. ‘Someone like Randy doesn’t deserve to draw breath.’ That’s what you told me right before we went to sleep that night. That’s when I knew. I knew I could be myself, my real self, with you.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. You can’t think I was asking you to kill him.” Tucking her slipper-socked feet under her body, Trinette tried to rise to a standing position, but her knees failed her. Rolling up onto the traitor joints, she crawled for the coffee table, the corner where she’d left her cell phone. “You’re crazy. I’m calling the police.”

“Please, Trinette, give it all a little time to sink in.”

*What like the blood soaking into the carpet? Blood…* She scrubbed the arm matted with the nasty stuff against the carpet until her skin burned. “Colden, it doesn’t matter how long I think about it. You could never convince me that murder is okay for any reason other than defending against being murdered yourself.” With her next attempt, she managed to climb shakily to her feet. “I think you need to go. I’ll even give you a few minutes before I call the police out of respect for what we had together.”

“Had? Oh no, you don’t get to say this is over, and I’m not going anywhere. After all I did for you…”

“Something I wouldn’t have asked of you in a million years.” Trinette fought to steel her frenzied nerves as she made an awkward lunge for her phone.

The pale, dark-haired boy she’d loved so much—still loved, though the emotion now filled her with disgust and self-loathing—remained unnervingly calm, his muscles obedient to his brain’s commands. Lurching fluidly in front of her, his body intercepted her reaching hand, cutting off access to her cell phone. “I’m going to give you one more chance,” he said gently, his silken voice belying the violent actions which had brought them to such a heartbreaking moment—at least for Trinette. In her mind, they were over forever.

“I’m sorry, Colden. It doesn’t matter how much I love you; I could never be with you after what you’ve done.”

For the briefest of moments, he hunched in on himself, a tormented moan pouring forth from his lips, and relief began to bloom at Trinette’s core. He was hurt, but he would do the right thing and leave her in peace. “I’m sorry to hear that, Babe.” He mangled the last word as it emerged. “As much as I love you, Trinette, I love my freedom more.” She detected real grief in his eyes when he raised them after he’d withdrawn the enormous-bladed chef knife from its sleeve in the carrying bag on the table. “I guess I’ll be breaking your present in much soon than I imagined.”