The Broken Holiday

"I wanna heal, I wanna feel, Like I'm close to something real…"

"Hello?"

Kyle's voice was drowned out. The girl rapped on, sounding even better, he mused, than Linkin Park, but still oblivious. Her shoulder-length, straight black hair swayed as she lurched back and forth, then she stood, rigid, and raised her fist straight up.

"I will never know myself Until I do this on my own I will never feel anything else Until my wounds are healed…"

"HELLO!"

She jumped around at his shout, uttering a startled, "Oh shit!" and clutching her heart. Face burning, she ran to the stereo to shut it off. As soon as Linkin Park was squelched, she turned to face Kyle, mortified.

"I knocked, I swear," Kyle explained, laughing, forcing his voice back down to a normal speaking level. "I didn't mean to scare you..."

He trailed off then, because something about this girl tickled his memory. She looked familiar, from the black sweater that her small frame seemed lost in, to the complete lack of makeup, deep olive complexion, and those huge brown eyes. And at the same time, something about herfelt warmly familiar. One look at her and some chord within him was struck in a perfect harmony.

She was studying him with equal intensity, the humiliation at having been caught dancing around forgotten.

"I know you," she said. "Don't I? Do you go to City?"

That's when it clicked for Kyle, or at least the part of the question of why she looked familiar. She was in his English Lit class at City University. He remembered her bringing up Vonnegut during a Q and A session after a lecture about 20th century authors, and recalled thinking she looked like a waifish Sandra Bullock.

He wondered briefly what she was doing here, until he remembered that there was a program at the university for students to earn credit by doing charity work as tutors.That must be it.

"We both have Gunderson on Wednesdays," he smiled.

"Oh, right," she smiled back, but just like his eyes, hers were still puzzling over something. Then her face returned to embarrassment. "God, I can't believe you just saw me dancing around like that. You must think I'm a loon."

"Everyone does that," he chuckled. "I'm really sorry to barge in. I went to the reception office, but no one was there."

"Oh, sorry about that. Most everyone is on a field trip at the City Center- shopping, Santa visits, you know, stuff like that. It's a big day for the little kids, and a lot of the teachers and counselors go with. It's pretty much just me holding down the fort until they get back."

"That's funny," Kyle replied. His mom had said that she'd called ahead to make sure that this afternoon would be a good time to find people in the office. He shrugged it off and held up the envelope. "Well, anyway, this needs to get to one of the boarders, or one of the former boarders anyways. Can I leave it with you?"

"Sure. Who's it for?"

"Noel Christensen."

"That's me."

"You're Noel?"

"Is that surprising?"

"I thought, um…" he drifted off, his mind a-jumble.

All his life, every Christmas, his family sent cards with little presents enclosed- gift certificates, a little spending money- to Noel Christensen at St. Isidore's Home for Children. He knew her story, so he knew why they sent them, although in the last few years he'd wondered at his mother's insistence thathe always be the one to mail them. And this year she'd told him that he had to deliver it personally to the office there, that there would be people there to receive him, and that they would forward it to Noel, who, according to his mom's version of the story, no longer resided there. But here she was, and she was the only one here.

In the moment or two it took for him to process this, he stared at Noel with increasing appreciation. If he'd known that she was this pretty, and that he'd feel… the way he felt when he saw her, he would've been delivering them in person all along.

"I'm sorry," he finally got his voice back. "Someone told me you didn't live here anymore."

Noel gave a short laugh. "Well, I wouldn't, but my scholarship at City only covers tuition and books. St. Isidore's offered to let me stay on here if I work as a tutor. Besides, I get a room to myself as a teacher. If I lived at the college dorms I'd have to put up with a roommate, and I've had enough of that already."

"I see," Kyle nodded with a smile. "Well, I guess this belongs to you."

He handed the envelope over, and Noel opened it. When she unfolded the card, the first thing visible was a check for two hundred-fifty dollars. Her dark eyes widened in shock, and she glanced up at Kyle before reading the message in the card.

"Dear Noel,

We hope this gift finds you well this holiday season. Although we have never personally known you, it brings us great joy to give this and hope that you may use it. With our warmest regards, and best wishes for a bright and happy future, have a Happy Birthday, a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, with many more to come.

Sincerely yours, The Obermans (Richard, Natalie, Jennifer and Kyle)"

"You're Kyle Oberman?" she asked, voice wavering.

He grinned. "Is that surprising?"

Noel flushed at his jibe, but then shook her head slowly.

"Every year your family sends me these cards," she looked up at him. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. My parents always wished they could do more. I think they would have adopted you themselves if they'd had enough money to support a third kid."

She smiled patiently, as if those were words she was accustomed to hearing.

"It's nice to finally meet one of you in person."

"Likewise." He offered his hand for a shake, and she took it. Down in the pit of his stomach, he could feel the charge of attraction at the squeezing of their hands. It felt wrong to confine it to a formal handshake, but confine it they did.

Noel stared at him in a look that seemed to be wondering how to tackle the entire situation. A few moments later, as if having decided on the correct course of action, she took a deep breath, and held out the check.

"Please tell your parents how much I really appreciate it. And I hope they'll understand, but I really don't need this."

"No, keep it. They… we want you to have it."

"I know, and it was really nice when I was a kid," she smiled half-heartedly, "and I love the card. But I have everything I need, really."

"Then just get yourself something you want, or save it for a rainy day."

"I can't take this in good conscience. It's too much."

"Yes, you can."

"No, I can't."

"Take it," he reached out and gently pushed her hand back towards her. "I won't take it back. It's a present."

"No, it's not," Noel argued, her face setting in irritation.

"Then what would you call it?"

"Charity."

"It's not meant like that."

"But that's what it is. I didn't know any better when I was little, but I see it for what it is now," she hardened her voice. "And even if you mean it as a present, it's wasted. I barely celebrate Christmas, and Idefinitely don't celebrate my birthday."

"Why not?" He blanched.

"Oh, please. Who celebrates getting thrown in a Dumpster and being left to die? Woo-hoo! Let's break out the champagne!"

Kyle's jaw clenched. The chord that had struck so beautifully when he'd seen her, sweetening further by recognition and the warm handshake, was starting to turn into a very sour note.

"Fine," he leveled his voice calmly. "That doesn't mean you have to turn away people who want to help."

"In case you and your family haven't noticed, I'm all grown up now. I don't need your help, and I don't want your help."

Kyle turned around and stalked to the door, leaving the check in her hand, trembling with sudden, pent-up anger. When he opened the door, he stopped, and against his better judgment, spoke.

"You're right. You don't need our help," he turned his head, but not enough to make eye contact. "And getting thrown in a Dumpster is nothing to celebrate. I don't even care if you hate Christmas, too,Noel. But you survived against all odds. You're healthy, educated and... beautiful, and there are people who care about you. If you can't find anything in that worth celebrating, there's something wrong with you. Tear up the money if you don't want it."

Kyle hastened out to the path, and after deciding not to tell his parents that she rejected their present, he resolved to clear Noel out of mind immediately. Obviously, the girl had issues, and he had better things to do with his life than waste thoughts on her.

Walking to his pick-up, he put his hat back on and surveyed the sky. It was getting dark, the white lights on the pine trees beginning to stand out against a horizon of deepening blue. It promised to be a good night, and he had plans after dinner.

"Kyle, wait!" Noel's voice came from behind. "Please," she cried when he kept going.

Reluctant, he stopped and turned to see her running after him, her hands hidden beneath the warm cuffs of her oversized sweater. She stopped in front of him breathlessly, tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean to offend you."

He said nothing in reply, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"You probably think that I'm the most ungrateful bitch that ever existed," she shook her head as if trying to clear cobwebs of emotion. "I'm not normally like that, really. I hope you can believe that. What you just said, it's true. I know it. I've thought that before. It's just that, going into school this year and all, I just want to be more independent, and- "

"You don't have to explain." Kyle softened.

"Yes, I do. I owe you this. I just want you to know that… it's just that this time of year gets a little tough. I can't help but think about it, and I probably do it a little too much, and, oh, God, I'm babbling," she took a deep breath. "I let it get to me and I shouldn't. And I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful, because I'm not. For the first couple years after I was found, I was practically buried in gifts and donations and couples lined up to adopt me," she paused, rolling her eyes. "Of course, some of them turned out to be total lunatics, and social services turned others down, and by the time that was all through, anyone half-decent had backed out or found another baby to adopt-"

"Noel, please-"

"No, let me get this out. All of it died off, all of it, except for your family. Every year, I knew I could count on a card from the Obermans. I even pretended sometimes that those cards were from a family I really belonged to. It got me through some really rough Christmastimes, and I just wanted you to know that it's really meantso much to me."

Kyle had stood watching her as she spoke, understanding and taking it all in, but at the same time trying not to laugh. The way she just unloaded it all and stood before him now- it was like watching a wind-up Chatty Cathy doll finally run out of breath and wheeze out. Now, slumped and breathless, with pleading, exhausted eyes, Noel waited for his judgment.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Try as he might, Kyle couldn't keep the corners of his mouth from twitching in amusement. Not failing to notice it, Noel stayed silent for a few moments, considering herself from his point of view until her own expression started to change. It melted into relief and, and at the same time, they both started to giggle, and it didn't stop. The more they tried to stop, the more they laughed until they were lost in a gales of it. When Noel snorted, Kyle thought he'd die of laughing, his stomach starting to cramp. It took a minute for either of them to be capable of speech.

"Yeah," she squeaked, nearly doubling over, covering her mouth as if that might stop the fit. "I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. Oh, God," she rolled her eyes, straightening up, the last of the giggles coming out as she wiped tears away. "I can't believe I just said all that."

"Neither can I. If you let loose like that in class, you're liable to give Gunderson a stroke."

"She needs one. Anything to keep her from talking in that monotone she's got going. I thought I'd love that class, but it's all I can do to keep from falling asleep."

"That makes two of us," he answered, wiping the corners of his own eyes. "That's the best laugh I've had in a long time."

"So glad to have amuse," Noel smiled, aftershocks of the laughing fit finally dying into giggles. "So we're okay then?"

"Yeah, we're okay," he sighed, offering his hand for another shake, and she took it. "I'll pass onto my parents what you said about how much you liked the cards."

"Okay, but just not the part about me pretending to be part of your family. I don't want them to freak out."

"Actually, my Mom would probably cry, so I definitely won't tell them that," he chuckled.

Their hands were still joined, moving slowly and then stopping, and the same electricity from before insinuated itself, starting to flow as the giddiness left them. Standing so closely, Kyle noticed every detail of her- the dampness of her lips and the amber-colored striations in otherwise chocolatey eyes, and the sheen of her skin, still damp with the sweat she'd worked up dancing. Even through her olive complexion he saw crimson in her cheeks, but whether that was from dancing, laughing, the sting of cold air or the same thing that had his own heart pumping, blood rushing and flushing his skin, he didn't know.

"Thank you for the card, and the present." She broke their silence and handshake at the same time, searching his eyes with hers, as if hoping to find some definition of what they were feeling.

"You're welcome."

She nodded after a moment, and then turned and began walking back to the bungalow.

"So I'll see you in class?" he called after her.

She turned around with an instant smile.

"I look forward to it."

With a grin, Kyle turned, being sure to be the first one to do it this time, and walked the last few steps to his truck. A deep blue, it blended now almost completely into the darkened evening save for its shine under the Christmas lights. He opened the driver's side door.

"Kyle?"

He swiveled around to see Noel, still standing there. She was fidgeting shyly, unsure.

"This is going to sound silly, I guess, but... I sort of feel like I should... hug you."

"I'm all for that," Kyle grinned.

He was going to step towards her, but there was no time. In an instant, elated, she'd rushed across the short distance between them and practically crashed into his outstretched arms. Kyle's breath was nearly knocked out of him, and not just with the force of her embrace, but the encompassing intensity of it. Noel didn't just hug, but trulyheld him.

At first her hands held onto his sides, clutching, drawing all of him against her. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder, and then her hands slid to his back, fingers outstretched, pulling him close.

With his nose buried in thick, coconut-scented hair and his body against Noel's, Kyle inhaled deeply and held her back. She stood on tip-toes so the two of them were chest-to-chest, and he could feel the beat of her heart beneath soft breasts, which fell and rose in deep, relaxed breaths. Closing his eyes, Kyle melted into her rhythm, his breathing matching hers as if by nature. With one hand gathered in her hair, he kissed the top of her head with small pecks.

It was then that he became aware of how delicious her warm breath felt against his neck, and that her lips were grazing him there. Then he felt her eyelashes flutter there as well, as she opened her eyes. He forced his own open, and the spell was broken. A moment later, they disengaged and regarded each other in silence.

"Goodnight," she finally said, giving a wan little smile.

"Goodnight, Noel."

This time, as she turned to walk away, her steps were thoughtfully slow, and he watched until she reached the bungalow door and, after her silhouette turned and gave him a wave, she shut it.

* * * * * * *

When Kyle got home, he found his Mom at the kitchen table writing last-minute Christmas cards to their neighbors. Natalie looked over her reading glasses at him with a knowing smile.

"Is she pretty?" she asked.

"You knew there was no one there but her, didn't you?"

"Well, I knew that she would be one of very few there, yes. The receptionist told me their office would be closed."

"So you lied to me," he smirked. "Ha! After all these years, I finally caught you in a lie."

"I didn't lie. I just… fibbed a little. It was for a good cause. Let's just call it an early Christmas present."

"Whatever."

"So she's not pretty?"

"She's beautiful, actually," he mused, opening the fridge and taking out a carton of milk. "And she wanted me to thank you and Dad for all the cards and presents. Turns out we have a class together, too." He shut the fridge and turned to her. "But I don't see what that has to do with a present for me. It's not like she's for sale, Ma."

"Of course not! I just always had the idea that you two might get along. Didn't you like her?"

He hardly knew how to answer that without sounding infatuated, so he paused, searching for the right words. That was, naturally, a mistake, because the silence spoke volumes.

"I knew it," Natalie smiled.

"Oh, please, Miss Matchmaker," he tried to cover his embarrassment by taking a swig out of the milk carton. "You've never met her. How could you know we'd get along?"

His mother just smiled secretively, filling out an envelope.

"It was just a feeling I had,"for nineteen years now. "Get a glass, Kyle. You know how I feel about drinking out of the carton."

* * * * * * *

The next evening, upstairs in his old room, Kyle went through all the pockets of his pants before tossing them into the hamper. Reaching into the back pocket of the pair of jeans he'd worn the previous day at St. Isidore's, he felt a folded piece of paper. Drawing it out, he smirked, knowing what he'd find before unfolding it and seeing his father's handwriting. A check in the amount of two hundred-fifty dollars, made out to Noel Christensen.

Wryly, he recalled how floored he'd been by her embrace.

Instead of going downstairs to find the telephone book, which was probably buried underneath stacks of magazines and Christmas catalogs, he tapped up "St. Isidore Orphanage" on Google and quickly found their homepage. Dialing the number he found there, he was relieved to hear that a switchboard answered after business hours. After being transferred to the appropriate dorm, he waited for the woman who answered to go find Noel. At last, her familiar voice piped through.

"Hello?"

"I thought orphans were supposed to pick pockets, not stuff money into them."

She laughed in instant recognition. "I was wondering what you'd do when you found that."

"Lucky it was me. If my Mom had found it, she'd have probably thought that I never gave it to you in the first place, and I'd be in some deep shit."

"Your Mom still does your laundry?"

"Hey, I'm on vacation," he chuckled. "So did you just hug me so you could put this in my pocket? Was that speech all a put-on?"

"No," she replied softly.

Looking down at the check, he sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Tough luck, Kyle. Guess you'll have to rip it up and throw it away."

An idea sparked. It depended on a few things, he thought, but it could work.

"If you don't take this money," he told her, "I'm going to have to find a way to spend it on you. What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"You'renot taking me out on a date."

"Oh? So I suppose it doesn't interest you that there's a Linkin Park concert tomorrow night, and that I can get tickets?"