If Only In My Dreams

It had been her choice that made him leave. She was the one who chose the Junior Gazette over him. He loved her enough to want to stay in Norbridge when his father went back to the States; but when she proved that the paper was more important to her, he knew that he could not compete and would not put himself through that pain. Now he wished he’d had the courage to do that. It would have been a darn sight better than Zoë.

Now to be fair, Zoë was not that bad. In fact, when Spike first met her, she seemed to him to be a more confident version of Lynda. She was less paranoid, and always upfront about how she felt (sometimes scarily so); but she had everything thing he had loved about Lynda, even down to being just as manipulative (which was something he never admitted that he liked). He was able to have a good time with Zoë, with a lot less fights, which was a refreshing change.

The only drawback was that he had not been able to stop thinking of Lynda, and deep down Spike knew that Zoë was a poor substitute. The thing was, Zoë must be picking up on this inner reluctance, for lately she had been getting rather possessive. What made it worse was that Zoë had come over one day just in time to hear his father ask about Lynda. No matter how many times Spike protested that Lynda was back in Norbridge, and that he had not heard one word from her; Zoë’s hackles were up. She had been another woman in Spike’s life, and somehow she knew that Lynda was not just another ex-girlfriend.

Zoë was showing her true colours now; and if Spike thought Lynda was the most possessive person he had ever met, then he owed her an apology. Zoë was now getting rather possessive, even to the point of wanting to know what was in his letters. Spike was feeling smothered.

Luckily, Zoë was out shopping at the moment, so he could write out his Christmas cards in peace. Normally he would not think of sending cards to everyone, but this was the first Christmas back in the States in over four years, and he was feeling rather nostalgic for Norbridge. He was even thinking of going back for a visit in the new year—if he could hide his intentions from Zoë.

But for now he would content himself with writing out the cards, and imagining the amazed looks on the faces of his friends when they received them. He had written to all his friends on the news team—Frazz, Kenny, Sarah, Tiddler, Colin, Sam, Jeff, Sonya… Now he just had one more to write… Lynda’s. If he had the courage to write it.

He had just made the decision to write Lynda a card when Zoë came in. Seeing the Christmas cards on the table in front of him, she immediately picked the pile up and started sorting through them, occasionally asking who this person was (Sarah, Sam, Sonya, Tiddler…). There was no way he could write one to Lynda with her there.

“Writing any more?” Zoë asked when she finished looking through the cards and found none addressed to Lynda Day.

“No,” Spike said shortly, annoyed. Zoë may be his girlfriend but it was none of her business if he decided to send a card to Lynda or not. He knew it was not worth the fight to point that out, so he just agreed with her suggestion to drop the cards off on their way to the movies. He could always write Lynda’s card later.

It was very late in the night, but Spike was sitting at the table with an empty Christmas card in front of him, mulling over what he would write. In everyone else’s card he had written ‘Hope to see you soon’, but somehow he felt that it was not the right sort of thing to write in Lynda’s card. He was drawing a blank. What could he say to Lynda after over five months?

He heard noises coming from upstairs, and the hall light came on. “Are you still up Spike?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“What are you doing down there this time of night?”

Spike sighed. “Nothing, Dad. I’ll be up in a minute.” Seizing his pen he quickly wrote in the card ‘Missing you, love Spike.’ Hurriedly stuffing the card in the envelope, he told himself he’d post it first thing in the morning, before he lost his nerve or Zoë saw it.

Lynda came home late again, dead tired. Sometimes it seemed like the past five months had been nothing but work trying to get the new, commercial Junior Gazette on its feet. She had been so busy that she had no time to think about Spike… except for that annoying hiccup she had developed whenever she heard the name (or word) Spike.

Not being hungry she bypassed the kitchen and went straight up to her room, where she found a lone Christmas card waiting for her on her bed. Curious, she opened it.

“Lynda,
“Missing you,
“Love, Spike.”