Mistletoe and Kelly

“Vanilla beans?”

“Check.”

“Cocoa?”

“Check.”

“Sugar?”

“Got it.”

Kelly Brackett perused over the list for any items still not crossed off.   “Um…cinnamon?”  He looked to the lovely woman beside him reviewing the mounting items in their basket hanging from his arm.

Recently, such a joint venture was becoming increasingly rare.  Working at the same institution in the same department with increasing staffing demands allowed them little free time together.    Although hardly the gentleman’s idea of a date, the little necessary errand to Becky Butter’s Kitchen Shoppe had become a tradition in preparation for the upcoming ‘baking season’. 

“Over here.  Walk this way…”  She led him seductively to the spices.  “Cinnamon…yep!”

“Mistletoe.”

“Huh?”   She looked to his eyes from the basket of inventory hanging from the gentleman’s arm.  “That wasn’t on my list.  And this is a bake shop, Kel not a florist-”

“No. Mistletoe.”  He pointed to the little sprig of green with white berries dangling mischievously from the quaint little archway above them.  As she looked up to the direction in which he was pointing, the unsuspecting woman felt a lingering little slurp being stolen from her lips by her good-looking assistant.  

She adored the playful romantic that made an appearance on such occasions, which found them far removed from the consuming everyday work.  Work that saw his handsome features wear a more serious expression; evidence to both Dixie and Kel that their relationship was worth the many ups and downs it had endured.

However… they were on a schedule.  “Kel,…maybe we could save that for later?”

“I hate that word.”   Leaning over the basket he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“I know and given your current mood there is little chance of any baking getting done then…  Am I right?”

He shrugged bashfully, licking his lips still red from the smooch. “I suppose I can be a good boy and sacrifice for the cause given sufficient…incentive.”

So much for the customary cup of gourmet Colombian Hazelnut and pastry at the Kitchen Café.  “Well, we could skip the coffee and--”   A playful gleam danced in her blue eyes.

“--Oh, no…”  He nuzzled her neck shamelessly.  “I wouldn’t dream of bucking tradition…”

“Kel.”  Dixie scolded futilely, bringing her hand to his face certain the security cameras were documenting every little goose bump.

Pulling away from her with exaggerated effort, Kel let go a sigh.  “According to the list we’ve got everything…unless you’d like to browse aimlessly through the aisles a while longer.”

Dixie saw the tables at the in store café begin to fill.  “Why don’t I stand in line and you save us a table at the Café?”

“Huh-uh.  I’ll check this stuff out then take it to the car.   You save us a table.”

Adoringly from her table, she watched his form as he faced the elements and unlocked the trunk of his car, careful not to damage the packages.

Unknowingly, one table down from Dixie, a waitress rewarded herself also with an extended glance to the unsuspecting man in the parking lot.

“May I take your order?”  The pre-occupied woman finally pulled her attention to her customer seated in the booth. 

“Yes I’ll have one of those…”  She pointed out the window to the dark haired gentlemen locking his trunk.

“Believe me, I wish he was on the menu!”  The waitress agreed removing the pencil from behind her ear.  “I have some toppings that would-never mind, I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry Honey…nothing wrong with a little wishful daydreaming now and then.”  The beleaguered shopper smiled up at the attractive young waitress.  “I don’t think they make’em like that much anymore.  You know, he actually opened the door for me on his way out?’

“You must be living right, Ma’m…looks like you’re gonna get your wish.  He’s coming back.”

“In that case, I’ll have a cup of the Columbian Blend and the beefcake--cheesecake…”

Dixie laughed out loud and blushed as the topic of the wishful ladies’ conversation approached her own table with a smile sweeter than any pastry topping and for her alone.

Regardless of whether the afternoon was spent wrapped in an apron listening to him cursing at tangled Christmas lights or tangled in his arms, Dixie was looking forward to the adventure.  Now this is Christmas…. Mistletoe and Kelly.  

**

Kel finally plopped down on the sofa after fifteen minutes of wrestling with green plastic coated wire.  He lifted the box and squinted his tired eyes to read perhaps some enlightenment to his dilemma.  “Dix these are cluster lights!!’  He released the box to the force of gravity.

“Oh.”  She looked up from the refrigerator shelves, to the department of Emergency services shackled and fettered in green wire with his head propped on the back of the sofa pleading with the ceiling.  In her rush to get home from an already overtime-lengthened workday she had picked up the wrong type of lighting for the tree.  “Can’t you just un-cluster them?”

“I’ve wasted the last fifteen minutes of my life trying to un-tangle what modern technology has bound together for all eternity …at the rate I’m going I’ll still be sitting here next Christmas….!!” 

Dixie walked over to her debonair devotee in distress.  Kel considered the view adequate compensation for his frustration.  Still, he made the suggestion.

“Why don’t you just let me go to the store and get another set?”  He offered, knowing what was coming.

“We paid good money for them…”  The nurse handed her frustrated fellow a cup full of the smooth creamy holiday beverage.  “Eggnog?”  She offered.

“Thanks.”  He took an appreciative sip. 

“Besides…I’m not going to let a little knotted string of wire unravel my Christmas spirit!” 

“Little knot?”  Kel swallowed preparing his debate.

Here comes at least three analogies, Dixie shored herself licking her lips. 

“Dix, fishing line in a tree gets ‘a little knotted’,”

There’s one.

“…hair in a ponytail sometimes ‘gets a little knotted’,”

“… these wires have been mechanically macraméed …”

Macramé is a metaphor---that counts!  Dixie gloated with a wide grin.

“…and this has nothing to do with Christmas spirit.”  He sighed.  “I don’t understand why we’re going to all this trouble when you are going to be spending the majority of the holiday in the Mid-west, at your brother’s house…”

“Well, if we’re not going to share the day together I want you to at least…. be happy…and have a little bit of Christmas around.”  She spoke the truth having worn herself ragged, partially out of guilt, preparing for the upcoming season in order that Kel might enjoy all of the festivity of the holiday.  Pretending at first not to be to excited at the thought of spending the next two weeks bundled in a blanket by the fire, sipping hot chocolate with her brother and his family on their snow covered little farm. 

“I don’t need cookies, poinsettias, or a tree with lights to be happy…chances are I’m going to be at the hospital anyway…”

Hence the poinsettia perched on your desk compliments of yours truly. “But it’s Christmas...Ebenezer.”

“You’re my Christmas.  And that’s pretty much everyday.  I can sacrifice a little for two weeks in December…..I think.”  He watched her lovely face take on a radiant glow.  “I’ll just work through the day as though it were any other…like I’ve done a hundred other Christmases.”

“A hundred?  According to my calculations you’ve only had forty-five.”  A wry smile complicated her beautiful features as she took the mug of eggnog from his hands and sipped.

An unsolicited sigh came from the man draped in wire. 

“Here it comes….”

“Here what comes?”

“The guilt trip.  Look, I’ll stay here if you like…I can still get a partial refund for my tickets.”

“Dix, I’m a big boy.”  He tilted the mug still in her hands toward his lips and took another sip of eggnog.  “I can cope.  You enjoy Christmas with your Mom at your brother’s house.”

Standing once again to begin his tedious task of unweaving, he vowed that the minute she turned her head for more than five minutes, he would be out the door to Standard Hardware purchasing several boxes of garland lights!

 Admiring his shape she stood with him, placing her beverage on the coffee table and fingered his necklace of light strings.  “You know…you’d make a great Christmas tree if you were a bit taller and maybe a little…”   She affectionately hinted around his waste line with gentle caresses as he filled in the blank.

“…Fuller?”  He asked.

“More full.”  She corrected. 

“Fuller.”  He confirmed. 

“Huh-uh.  ‘Fuller’ is grammatically incorrect.  --Unless you play the part of a cowboy on a TV show.”

She’s usually right about these things but she can be so smug!… Dixie wrapped her arms around his neck.    So let her be snug-smug!…smug!   Argument conceded.  He preferred to return to the yuletide analogy.  “I think I know where you could find some garland.”

“Maybe a  few ornaments…” 

The bracelets of green and glass dropped to the floor as he reached for her waist and pulled her soft curves against him.

“What do you say …”  Dixie kissed him.  “… turn you on?”

“Definitely, I’ll need plugged in …and then we can get ... tangled...”   

“Irreversibly.”

**

The cookies were baked, the tree was lit and decorated, and the gifts wrapped for the Saturday of the  weekend before Christmas on Wednesday.  Dixie and Kelly agreed to exchange any presents after arrival home…at least one of them would feel much more festive.  Finding a smile had become increasingly difficult in approach of the day of Dixie’s departure for her brother’s farm in the Wyoming.  Initially as part of her Christmas present, the Chief of Emergency services saw an opportunity for respite and retreat in such a homecoming, and persuaded Dixie to take advantage the time and visit her family.  He would stay behind and stay available should extra staffing be necessary at the Rampart.  Of late, the physician had been battling to keep his mood elevated.

Maybe this will be the last year they spend Christmas with separate last names.  He carefully relinquished to her shoulder the carryon bag containing cookies and fudge.

“I miss you already.”  He scowled as her hand touched his lips.

“It won’t be that bad.”  She comforted herself as well as the melancholy man holding her.  Come on…we’ve been through this before.   

“I know ….I promised myself I wasn’t going to say that.”   Kelly pulled up a smile.

“That’s better.” Her hand ran against his cheek and pulled it down to her face for a kiss.  “I’ll call you.”  Dixie shook her head at her own silly tearfulness. “Bye.”

He squeezed her hand as it pulled from his grasp.

“Bye.”

**

Indeed, the December in Cheyenne, Wyoming proved to be everything Currier and Ives might have suggested for a winter holiday with the forecast predicting a freshening by Mother Nature off and on over the next several days.  The wave of nostalgia had her straining to remember exactly what had compelled her to Southern California in the first place.  She caught herself contemplating what it was about the apparent farmhouse coziness that seemed inherent to fostering a loving home and how she might want the same nurturing environment for her family…for their family.  Hmm…their family.  Was he thinking along those lines?  Would he want the same thing?  Could he ever leave Southern California?

“Maybe next year.  Sooner preferably!”   Margie, her brother’s bubbly brunette wife extended warmly as she poured the last cup of the coffee for herself while the dishes were being cleaned and put away. 

“Sure…the more the merrier!”  Their matriarch added with a twinkle of delight in her eye as the last of the dinner dishes were dried and put away. “Some day I’m going to catch Dr. Killer Buns under the mistletoe.”

“We haven’t seen Kel in such a long time.  Lord knows we’ve got the room. We’d love to have the ‘Good Doctor’ for visit--just as long as you two keep your hands above the table.”  She gave Dixie a sly grin.

“Well…that is unless nobody’s looking.”  Verna giggled as Dixie blushed.

Dixie looked at her watch.   All this talk about Kel although meant to comfort her, made her heart yearn for him all the more.  To share the special something after the dinner dishes that soothed and satisfied.  Even on the night before Christmas Eve. 

** 

The next day saw the children in and out of the house involved in sled riding and other activities to absorb their excitement.  Margie, Verna, and Dixie were in and out with last minute errands in preparation for the evening’s merriment following the candle light church service.  Unofficially, members of the Cheyenne Church of the United Unamit would be traditionally collecting for food, fun and fellowship…and punch, which was infamous for its mysterious little ‘kick’.  

Dixie again longed to share this sense of tradition and good will with her favorite person on Earth as she retreated to the phone in the den.

**

Five rings…six rings…Maybe he’s in another room….nine rings ten rings….maybe he’s asleep.  Dixie looked at her watch.  Twelve rings….probably went into work…  She hung up the phone disappointed.  Communication had been a disaster and it had been five days since they had last spoken at the airport   Feels like forever.   Trying not to sulk, Dixie waited a few minutes before joining the in the festivities by the fireplace.  She watched the snowfall outside the window a few moments then looked inside to the gorgeous red poinsettia dominating the credenza pondering the lowly little singular bloom she had seated on Kel’s office desk. 

“You’re my Christmas… and that’s every day.”  Dixie tried to find inspiration in the words but instead intensely ached for the deep voice behind them.  Come on, Dix.  Grow up.  Get out there and forget about missing him.   In the background she heard her brother warming up at the piano with ‘Deck the Halls’. 

With a deep sigh, she opened the door and entered the hallway.  A few close friends from church had stopped by and began to collect around the piano for a sing-along.   Dixie plopped in the middle of the children …instant distraction.  But not enough time passed before the requests mounted.

“Aunt Dix….Sing something for us.”  April the nine-soon-to-be-thirty year old requested.

“Yeah!  Sing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer!!”

“Please?”

“C’mon Aunt Dix!”

Come on Aunt Dix…Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer…not Blue Christmas or I’ll be Home For Christmas…or Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas…you can do it.

“Okay …sure.  But only if you help me.”  Dixie leaned forward as her ponytail dropped over her shoulder.

“Yep!!”

“Yay!”

“Yeah we have to help her cause…she misses Uncle Kel.”  Billy the twelve year-old teased and informed the crowd.

“Billy!”  Margie scolded.

“Uncle Kel’s her boyfriend!”  They kidded as they enlightened their friends.

Dixie rolled her eyes as her brother played the beginning chords of the introduction.  “You know Dasher and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen...Comet and Cupid and Donner….”  Her effervescent voice chimed to everyone’s delight the whole way down through….’hi-stooo-ry!’.   The cheers and laughter was followed by shouts for an encore.  Looking across to the understanding but hopeful face of her mom, Dixie exchanged glances with her brother and nodded a cue for the chords of White Christmas.

Of course, they delighted the entire accumulating crowd and followed up with the carol sing.  Truly something to cherish…something to share…something to pass on…  Relishing in the fullness of the evening, Dixie leaned against the hearth as yet another group of friends stopped in with well wishes and moseying by the hors d’ourve table and punch bowls.

After a couple of hours the children tired and the crowd thinned.  Dixie could also feel herself becoming weary as she went to the phone one more time.  Her heart sank in frustration with every ring.  I just wanted to hear his voice…to wish him Merry Christmas.  Dixie looked out beyond the snow-thickened sky.  Was that too much to ask?!

Apparently so…she walked back to the family room and sat in the sofa by the fireplace.   Nine-year-old April interrupted her thoughts.  “What’s the matter, Aunt Dix?”  She spoke over the charming remnants of a lisp, her characteristic McCall-blue eyes reflecting the firelight. 

Dixie smiled.

Never silent for more than fifteen seconds, April tried another more direct approach.  “You look…well, distant.”

Distant?  Dixie let out a chuckle. “You’re pretty observant.”

“I try.”  Watching the fire, April leaned against her aunt’s shoulders, which automatically released into an enveloping embrace around the child.

“So, April…what do you want for Christmas?”

“My tonsils out.”

“That’s a pretty tough order….why?”

“Almost all of my friends had their tonsils out and they got out of school…”

“But I thought you liked school.”

“Well, I do, but….and they get tons of ice cream.”

“Why don’t you just wish for tons of ice cream?”  Dixie encouraged.

“You have a point.”   The young lady nodded.  “And…I want a bee-bee gun.”

“A bee-bee gun.” 

“With three brothers…especially two older…I figure I need an equalizer.”

Dixie laughed.

“How ‘bout you, Aunt Dix?  What do you want for Christmas?”

“I…just want to talk to a special someone…a very special someone.”

“Oh.  I bet I know who…”

“Oh yeah?  Who?”  The little girl’s aunt tugged at her pigtails.

“Mom says if I mention his name again she’ll wreck Santa’s sleigh.”

“Now, why would she say a thing like that?”

“Cause she knows how much you miss him and we don’t want to wreck your holiday because we want you to come back again.”  Her eyebrows rose as she offered her innocent explanation.

Dixie chuckled and smiled brushing the thin blonde bangs out of the little girls face.

 April continued.  “If it’s any consolation…I bet he’s pining for you right now too.”

“Pining?”

“Yep…sulking despondently.”  Drama and theatrics were little April’s forte.

“You think so?”

“If he’s as smart as you say he is.”  A coy smile crossed her features.

Dixie laughed as she marveled proudly at her astute little niece piecing together and repeating segments of former dinner conversations.   “You’re a very bright young lady, April.  When did you become so …wise.”

“I read a lot.”

“Oh.  Well…that’s great.”

“And I watch ‘The Edge of Night’ when I get the chance.”

“Does your mom know you watch soap operas?” 

‘She watches them.  I just catch the tail end segment when I get home from school.  You know, I think Adam and Nichole are a great couple…I always wanted them to get married-”

“You think they will?”  Dixie tied April’s long pigtails together in a loose affectionate knot. 

“It may take a while but eventually they’ll get around to it…just like you and Uncle Kel--” April stopped in mid-sentence, her jaw dropping in disbelief upon remembering her mother’s warning to avoid ‘the subject’.  “Want some punch?”  The little girl popped off the couch and headed toward the punch bowl.

“Love some.”   Dixie rose, smoky laughter bubbling from within her, as the doorbell chimed once more. 

“Dix?  Could you, please?  I think Mark is putting the baby to bed,”  came the plea from Margie who had retreated to the back porch taking out an extra bottle of ginger ale to chill in the snow. 

“Sure.”  Dixie yelled over her shoulder headed toward the large door looking out the window to see if she might recognize the visitors.  One single soul stood outside in the snow, holding some sort of package and a large bag; his specific form smudged by the large falling white flakes.

“Who is it?”  Margie yelled bringing her chilled bottle from the outside.

“I don’t know.”  Dixie returned as she opened the door and allowed the rush of cool to maybe awaken her from what she was afraid might be a wishful illusion or daydream. 

Piercing the visual impression was the unmistakable familiar voice that sounded equally happy and taken with the masterpiece in the doorframe.  “Hi.” He dropped his bag into the snow and placed his sack of gifts on it before opening his arms and stepping toward her.

 “Kel!”  She could feel her entire form radiate a smile as she flew into his embrace.  His cool snow sprinkled suede jacket and gloves surrounded her frame like the comfort of answered prayer.  She pulled her face away from his chest long enough to place a lasting kiss of resuscitation upon his lips.  “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”  His voice held inflections of enthusiasm that warmed any chill that may have found its way near the couple.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.  I can’t believe this!!”  She cried and sniffed, hoping she was holding more than just a Christmas dream in her arms.    

“Merry Christmas, Dix.”   The snowflakes collected and melted rapidly on his wavy hair and eye lashes.

 Just one more lingering kiss before they picked up the bags and headed into the warmth.   “Merry Christmas, Kel!”

                                                                               Merry Christmas!!