Operation Christmas Cracker

Friends

She peers into the darkness.

It's so unusual to be outside the confines of the building at night, and for the security lights to be off again is just so strange.

She thinks she hears children and then discounts the notion as the voices of folks on The Mall filter through to her and she realizes that in the stillness of the night sound travels so much more easily.

She feels Joe take her hand in his and she stays close as he guides her along the pathway to the left, back in the direction of the residence. Halfway along he indicates for her to turn right and she sees a temporary surface emerge through the darkness. She steps onto the grass for the first few steps and then feels her shoes find the flat, even surface of the pathway.

'What's your favorite Christmas memory from when you were a kid?' Joe asks suddenly.

His question transports her from the dark lawn of the White House to the bright riverside of the Delaware River as it ran through the center of Philly. She can see the twinkling lights and the festive decorations hanging from trees lining the boardwalk. Near the intersections the lights cross over the road. The bridge is festooned with colorful festive characters and the concession stands are tucked beneath the stone work, offering shelter from the breeze to the folks huddling together for warmth, standing in the queue.

She already has one hand comfortably tucked through his and now she runs her second hand along his arm, pressing her body close to his.

She sees her Mom and Dad, at home in the kitchen. It's been freezing hard the past week. Everyone, all of her friends, her sisters friends, their neighbors and work friends; they've all been talking incessantly about how near the river is to freezing over, how close it is to skate on.

She watches her parents exchange the knowing look of co-conspirators. She involuntarily squeezes Joe's arm as she remembers the way her tummy clenched in expectation, hoping that she knew what they were about to say.

Her breath was visible now on the lawn as she began to speak. Her voice was heavy with nostalgia, loaded with emotion. It was as if her parents were with her, with them. Joe had done so much for her this evening, had put such effort into the arrangements and everything but his greatest gift tonight was to allow her to feel the love of her parents once again.

Her voice was low. Her mind packed tight with memories she leaned her head against his shoulder and recalled her favorite one.

'I loved when we were old enough and my parents would bring the three of us ice skating on the river. We'd watch for days. Our school friends and neighborhood kids and even my Dads work colleagues would all spend hours talking about the thickness of the ice, hoping it would be ready to skate on before Christmas. It was frozen solid some years; those were the really great times. But when we'd get there so many families were already on the river we thought there wouldn't be enough room for us' she laughed now at the notion, realizing the folly of her childish thoughts.

'Later, I remember being in charge of the twins. Me and Bonny and Jan were crazy to get going but we had to go at their pace and we were so impatient', she tells him, laughing as she recalls the memory.

'When I was old enough I was allowed to go on the train with some girlfriends and we'd spend hours skating. There was a hotdog stand near the bridge and a hot chocolate truck at the opposite bank. We'd skate over and back and pool all of our money and if we were lucky we could manage to have both, or at least a share of both', she tells him.

He runs his hand along her back. The evening has cooled and the friction of his hand against the material of her sweater leaves a trail of heat along her back. She leans closer to him, the heat from his body seeping into her.