The Loneliest Time of the Year

On the Monday before Christmas, Angela walked through the canned goods section of the grocery store in search of the vegetable soup that was on sale. She was frowning at the time because of the song that was playing over the speaker system.

If I hear that song one more time, I'm going to scream, she thought to herself.

The song was "It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year" by Andy Williams and it seemed as if no matter where she went after Thanksgiving, it played at least one time while she was there.

Two years before, she'd have probably sung along in her head because Angela had loved Christmas then. She'd decorated her house with garlands of pine and tinsel, always had a wreath on her front door, and there was a special spot in the family room for the Christmas tree. She'd stopped buying real trees years ago because it was a mess to clean up all the needles once they were taken down, but the tall artificial tree looked almost the same and on New Year's day, it was easy to take apart and put back into the box.

Last year, she hadn't put up any garland but she had put up and decorated the tree, and once she was done, sat on the couch and cried for an hour. This year, though it was the twentieth of December, and the tree was still in the box in her garage along with all the lights and ornaments.

Angela had thought about putting the tree up again, but then thought, why bother? It'll be just me here and it'll remind me of how it used to be. I'll sit on the couch and cry for a while, and then be sad until I take it down.

Last Christmas had been hard because her husband had decided in June that he didn't love her anymore. He'd moved to a rented house that summer and had filed for divorce. Angela signed the papers the Monday after Thanksgiving but didn't really come to grips with the fact she was single again until New Year's day. It was too hard to believe that after twenty-four years of marriage, she was again alone. He'd have his fling and then realize what he'd had and come back to her. After all, she was only forty-eight and still had her figure. True, that figure was bigger than when she was eighteen, but two kids did that to a woman. The men who stared at her at the grocery store seemed to like her.

That Christmas, her two daughters brought their husbands over for Christmas dinner and it was almost like before except her husband wasn't there but it felt a little strained. Her daughters had always loved their father because he gave them everything they wanted. Angela was left with the role of meting out discipline so her daughters would grow up to be good women. She knew both her daughters thought she was the cause for the divorce. Still, just having them there made her feel better about everything. It wasn't until they left she felt really alone.

In some ways, Angela thought she probably was the cause. The inevitable began to happen to her when she was forty-five, and a few months later, her husband seemed to have lost interest in her. She'd tried to get him to have sex, but usually he'd say he was too tired or had to get up early in the morning. She'd asked her doctor about that. Her doctor said men went through a change too and it was probably just his age.

Angela didn't think the problem was her husband's age. One night after she'd tried to get him to come to bed early and failed, she woke up about an hour later and had to used the bathroom. When she came out of the bathroom, Angela noticed the lights in the living room were still on. Thinking he'd probably fallen asleep on the couch, she quietly walked to the door and then looked to see if that was the case.

It wasn't. He wasn't asleep. He was leaned back in his desk chair with his pants down around his ankles and looking at his computer screen. On that screen was a video of a naked young girl touching herself, and her husband was stroking himself.

After he moved out, Angela had driven by the house he was renting one Saturday afternoon, and saw her replacement. The woman was about thirty and her body was trim and fit.

At first, she was furious that her husband would want a woman almost young enough to be his daughter. A week later, she was crying every night, alone in her bed and wondering if there was a way to get him back. A month later, she was furious again and didn't want him back. The divorce papers made her both sad and furious, sad because it was over, and furious because he'd just dumped her like a used tissue.

The summer after her first Christmas as a divorced woman, her daughter's husbands had taken jobs on the West Coast, one in California and one in Washington State. She hoped they'd come for Christmas again, but they both called to wish her well on her birthday in October and said they couldn't make it for Christmas. It was too far to travel and too expensive.

From then until the first of November, Angela was sad. By Thanksgiving, she was angry with them for moving so far away. When the stores started putting up Christmas decorations and having sales, Angela had decided Christmas was just a way for stores to take more of your money and that made her cynical about the whole thing.

It wasn't the songs that angered her as much as the people. They were all walking around smiling. If she went to the mall, she saw men talking to saleswomen about sweaters or men talking to saleswomen in jewelry stores about earrings or necklaces. In Walmart, she saw smiling women searching the shelves in the toy department for dolls or toy cars or some other toy for their children or grandchildren.

Angela didn't have any grandchildren to buy for. If she had, that would have made her a little happier, but her daughters had both said they wanted financial security first and children later. She couldn't even buy anything for her daughters. They'd both decided Christmas was too commercial and had told her they weren't going to buy her anything and didn't want anything from her.

Angela wished the whole thing was over and people could get back to doing what they always did.

She finally spotted the vegetable soup above the sale tag with a picture of a wreath on it. Why did every store put anything she wanted on the top shelf? Didn't they know there were a lot of women just over five feet tall and wouldn't be able to reach it? Angela had one foot on the bottom shelf and was reaching for a hand-hold to pull herself up when a voice behind her said, "Ma'am, you're going to hurt your self. How many do you want? I'll get them for you".

Angela stepped down and turned to tell the man she wanted two, but stopped when she saw who he was. He was a store employee, probably only around nineteen, and he was wearing a stupid red velvet pointed hat with a white pompom on top. It wasn't enough that the store had to play Christmas music and have big plastic bows and candy canes all over the place, she thought. They had to dress up their employees too.

Angela said she needed two. He took them from the shelf, handed them to her, and then asked if he could do anything else for her. Angela wanted to tell him to take off his dumb elf hat and act like a grownup, but she couldn't.

"No, thank you. This is all I need for now."

The young girl at the checkout was wearing reindeer antlers and wished her a Merry Christmas. Angela had to stop herself from snapping back, "What's there to be merry about". She just stuck the receipt in her purse and then pushed her cart away from the checkout.

Angela was pushing the cart toward the door when she saw a little girl about five standing by the wall all by herself. Angela had read the news stories about little children being abducted from stores, and it didn't seem right to just let her stand there alone. None of the store employees were paying attention to her. She walked up to the little girl and smiled.

"Honey, where's your mommy?"

The little girl's face was serious.

"Daddy says Mommy is in Heaven now."

It was the innocent statement of the unquestioning belief of a child, and nearly brought Angela to tears. She couldn't leave her alone now.

"Well, is your daddy here?"

The little girl nodded and pointed at one of the checkout lanes. Angela had just looked up when a man quickly pushed his shopping cart up beside her. He looked angry. He sounded angrier.

"Why are you talking to my daughter?"

Angela shrugged.

"I saw her standing here by herself, and it worried me that...well, I don't like seeing children alone, especially little girls. Too many things can happen to them. I have two daughters of my own."

The man seemed to calm down a little then.

"Oh, I thought...well, I guess I was thinking the same thing you were thinking. Erica likes to run around, so I told her to go stand by the wall where I could watch her while I checked out. "

Angela smiled.

"I remember my daughters being that way when they were her age. What is she -- five?"

The man smiled then.

"Six, actually. If you ask her, she'll say six and a half though. She can't wait to get older. I keep telling her one of these days, she'll be wishing she wasn't getting older, but I guess she can't understand that yet."

He bent down then because the little girl was tugging at his sleeve. She whispered something to him, and he frowned.

"It can't wait until we get home?"

The little girl shook her head, and the man looked at Angela.

"Erica has to use the restroom. She's old enough I don't feel right taking her in the men's, and I don't feel safe letting her go in the women's by herself. I really hate to ask, but could you..."

Angela would normally have said no, and especially so because of the mood she was in, but the little girl was so cute and the man was being so nice now that he knew why Angela had talked to the little girl. She smiled a genuine smile.

"Sure. Come on Erica. Let's see if we can find the little girl's room."

When they came back out, Erica was smiling and holding Angela's hand. Brent was surprised by that. Since his wife had been killed in a car accident, Erica hadn't been very friendly to anyone but him, but evidently she liked this woman for some reason.

As he pushed his cart away from her, Angela was surprised that she actually felt happy again. It shouldn't have been that way. That same stupid song was playing over the speaker system for at least the second time since she'd gotten there, and she knew the person who'd been outside the door ringing a bell and asking for donations would still be there, but for some reason she was happy. She caught herself humming to the song, but then stopped. It wasn't right to be happy when she hated everything going on around her.

Angela drove into her drive and got out to take her groceries inside, but stopped when she saw a man come out of the house across the street and walk to his car, get a bag of groceries from the trunk and then go back inside. The sign in the front yard saying the house was for sale had been gone for two weeks, and she'd seen a different car in the drive, but she hadn't seen any people.

The man looked a lot like the man from the grocery store, but that couldn't be. Coincidences like that just didn't happen. When he came back out, she looked more carefully, and realized it was him when he waved and started across the street toward her.

He was chuckling when he walked up to her.

"Back there at the grocery store, I didn't know you were my neighbor. I've been busy trying to work and get moved in at the same time, so I guess we missed each other."

Angela found herself smiling.

"I knew somebody had moved in, but I never saw you either."

Brent smiled.

"You probably haven't because at this time of year I leave for work in the dark and it's already dark when I get home. I'm Brent Michaels. Pleased to meet you...again."

He held out his hand and Angela took it.

"I'm Angela Jackson. When did you and Erica move in?"

"Just last week. I got transferred here and had to stay in a hotel room until I could get my house in Raleigh sold and buy one here. That all finally came together two weeks ago, so I took my relocation time over the Christmas holidays. The movers dropped off everything last Monday, and I moved in that night.

"Erica didn't come with me to stay. I didn't want to take her out of one school and put her in a new one in the middle of the school year. She's on Christmas break right now, and she wanted to spend Christmas with me. She'll go back to Grandma's the day after New Year's. I guess I could have gone there, but Erica wanted to spend Christmas here for some reason. She'll come to live with me after school's out."

Angela shivered then and Brent noticed.

"Looks like you're freezing out here. I better let you get back inside to warm up. It was nice meeting you again."

Angela smiled as she carried her groceries into the house. She'd been a little concerned about who would buy the house across the street. The former owners had been an older couple who kept to themselves most of the time, but they were friendly.

Brent seemed like a nice guy, and Erica was adorable. She reminded Angela of her own daughters when they were that age, except Erica was a little smaller and had blonde hair instead of dark brown. It would probably be nice having them in the neighborhood.

}{

Angela worked in city government as an accountant, and all government workers except the police and fire departments always got Christmas Eve day off work with pay as well as the week between Christmas and New Year's Day. This year, Christmas fell on a Sunday. Since the city offices weren't open on Saturday, the Friday before Christmas became the Christmas Eve vacation day they'd have otherwise missed.

Angela planned to spend that Friday and the weekend like she usually did if she wasn't working, or at least how she'd spent those days since her divorce. Her internal alarm clock wouldn't let her sleep in, so she'd be awake at six, but she'd spend the day in some comfortable clothes just lounging on the couch, eating when she felt like eating, and in general doing nothing.

That plan got interrupted on Friday morning while she was drinking coffee. When she answered the knock on her front door, Brent was standing there.

"Angela, I hate to ask you this but I don't know anybody else to ask. We had a small fire at the factory this morning. It's out now, but since I'm the Facility Manager, I have to go down and have a look at the damage.

"The problem is I can't leave Erica at home by herself and I can't take her with me. Could you maybe watch her until I get back? She's had breakfast and she's dressed and everything."

Angela wanted to say no, but the look on Brent's face wouldn't let her.

"Sure. Bring her over. How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"Probably just a couple of hours. I won't be able to do anything about it until next week except get an idea of what has to be done. I can't thank you enough."

It had been over twenty years since Angela's daughters were as young as Erica, so she'd forgotten how inquisitive little girls can be. Erica looked at everything in Angela's living room and kitchen and asked questions about everything she saw. Angela answered them all until Erica asked when she was going to put up her Christmas tree. Angela didn't know how to tell a six year old that after her husband divorced her and her daughters moved to the West Coast, Christmas didn't mean anything to her any more.

"Well, Erica, it's just me by myself, so there wouldn't be anybody else to see my Christmas tree. I just decided not to put it up this year."

Erica grinned.

"Daddy and I put ours up last night. Daddy put on the lights and then helped me put on the ornaments. We hung our stockings on the fireplace too."

"Well, I hope Santa brings you everything you want."

Erica smiled knowingly.

"Santa isn't real. It's just your mommy and daddy who buy you things at Christmas, just like they do on your birthday."

Angela had to smile back. Her own daughters had come to the same conclusion as soon as they started school. She'd felt both proud that they were becoming more mature, and sad that they were losing their innocence.

It was almost noon when Brent knocked on Angela's door again.

"Hi. I'm done now. The maintenance foreman and I toured the area and he knows what to do. I might have to check in next week, but I can probably do that by phone. How did you and Erica get along? I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

Angela laughed.

"No trouble at all except for asking me a million questions. She's a smart little girl."

"Yeah, too smart for her own good sometimes. Well, I'll take her off your hands now. Thank you so much."

Angela was surprised at herself after Erica left. She kept unconsciously looking around to see where the little girl was and what she was doing even though she knew Erica wasn't there. She smiled at that. It was just like it was when her own daughters were living at home. If they were quiet, it meant they were up to something they shouldn't be up to, and she'd go to investigate. That made her feel good inside, knowing she was past being a mother again, but still had a mother's instincts. She felt almost good enough to put up with Christmas carols and stupid ornaments for the next week.

She was drinking her coffee the next morning when there was another knock on her door. It was Brent, and Angela thought maybe he needed her to watch Erica again. She was taken aback by what he did want.

"Angela, last night Erica told me you don't have a Christmas tree and she thought everybody should have a Christmas tree. I told her maybe you just hadn't had time yet, but she said you told her you weren't going to put yours up.

"Then she asked if it would be alright if you came over for Christmas Eve to see our tree. We don't do much on Christmas Eve, just have dinner and then watch a Christmas movie. Could I convince you to come over for a little while, just to have dinner with us and watch the movie? It would make Erica happy."

Angela tried to think of a way to say she couldn't, but then she thought about Erica. She liked the little girl and didn't want to disappoint her.

"I suppose I could. What time? Do I need to bring anything?"

"About six would be great, and you don't need to bring anything except you. Erica and I will take care of everything else."

That afternoon, Angela took a shower, fixed her hair, and then put on a dress, the first time she'd worn a dress in months. When she looked in the full-length mirror in her bathroom, she thought the dress needed stockings and heels. After finding a pair of stockings buried in her underwear drawer, she put them on and then found her black heels in the back of her closet. When she looked in the mirror again, she smiled. She wasn't the slender woman she'd been twenty years before, but she still looked pretty good.

When she knocked on Brent's door, it was Erica who answered. The little girl grinned.

"Come in Mrs. Jackson. Daddy's in the kitchen making spaghetti."

As soon as Angela was inside, Erica ran off through a door on the other side of the room. A minute later, Brent came out with her.

"Let me take your coat, Angela."

When she did, Brent grinned.

"Wow. You dressed up."

Angela felt herself blushing.

"No, not really. It's just a dress, but thank you."

Brent turned to Erica then.

"Erica, is the table all set?"

When Erica nodded, he smiled at Angela.

"OK then, let's eat."

The spaghetti wasn't anything special, but it was good. Angela felt comfortable sitting at one end of the table opposite Brent. She was a little embarrassed by how Erica kept looking at her and then Brent and then smiling.

After dinner, Brent put their plates and silverware in the dishwasher and then asked Erica what movie they should watch. Angela expected something like "Rudolph, The Red Nosed Reindeer", or "How The Grinch Stole Christmas", but that's not what the little girl said.