(Before we get started: just a little housekeeping reminder to put your requests on the introduction page so they don't get lost or accidentally ignored and I can keep up with them! And Merry Christmas!)
In which, the biggest disappointment of her life takes a turn she only dreamt of
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Next Christmas
"Hey, darling," she heard it almost instantly. Steve Christoff was a gruff sounding individual. His voice matched his outer appearance and permanently knitted brows. But that didn't mean he lacked emotions other than anger. A deep, burly sound was more endearing when he said her name. It whispered a little softer than most. It gave his laugh more of a jolly heft. He couldn't help his resting face.
Underneath a rough exterior was a man who cared deeply. Who loved and felt and hoped and dreamed leaps and bounds beyond what he could express. And his voice, though subtle to others, would change in intonation when he was upset. But she could hear it like the snapping of a twig in a silent library.
"Hi," she replied, twirling the phone cord about her finger. She'd been expecting his call all day. She'd been waiting impatiently for it - sitting and watching the phone in between the Christmas preparations. Though he was clearly unhappy about something, she still couldn't help the blush that spread across her cheeks when she heard his voice on the other end of the line.
"What's going on at home?" They'd grown up a few houses from each other. But that meant nothing during their childhood. They didn't meet until high school biology. Lab partners. She saw him smile for the first time when she gave him her address. A light laugh and a shake of his head.
Afterwards, it was rare that either one would venture out further than the other's residence. They'd meet at one house or another. If they couldn't make that work, they'd meet in the middle.If they couldn't make that work, they'd call and just listen to the other's voice.
"The regular. The cooking and cleaning craziness." Her mother went into a craze every year just before Christmas. The house wasn't near clean enough for her mother-in-law to visit. All the decorations, that had been so painstakingly moved left and right until they were perfectly placed, had to be worked around. The driveway was shoveled, every piece of glass polished until it reflected the snow. Heaven forbid even a speck of dust or microscopic crumb be left behind.
That didn't mean she doesn't love it. The time of year. The snow. The lights. Sitting by the fire, just watching the twinkle of the Christmas tree. Spending time with her loved ones. She couldn't be more excited for her first Christmas with her boyfriend. After all, their romantic relationship was a fairly recent development.
She peeks out the front windows down the street as she continues. "I can't speak for your house though."
It seemed a little too quiet at the Christoff residence. There was usually a buzz around the suavely decorated two-story. But it remained nearly silent this Christmas - the lights rarely flickered a tinkle, as if they were sad. The way the roof plopped snow onto the bushes was no equal to the dust of a powdered sugar over cookies - which was unusual.
