December 23rd

1

Snow blew across the moon one cold December night. December 23^rd to be exact. Inside my kitchen was warm, the air holding a cinnamon smell. Bread rose in one corner, cookies cooled in another and dirty dishes grew as if by magic on the counter. I could see no bedtime in the near future for me. 2

I turned up the radio, after all there was no one to rouse from sleep. The first Christmas since the divorce and  Jill was with her  father. It left me quite alone. . I didn’t feel a pang of jealousy exactly. Not even a loneliness really. I wasn’t quite sure what I felt, but I turned the radio up another notch just to chase it away.3

Lifting the cloth from the bread dough, it had doubled. I was ready to punch it down, re-knead it for it’s final rising when the phone rang. 4

"Hello" I said.5

"Hello back." he said.6

His voice swept me back 30 years. 7

"How are you?" He asked after an awkward silence. 8

I was, I’ll admit, at a loss for words. 9

Suddenly I was 17 to his 24. A police officer on the West Coast he was tall, dark and handsome, but not a stereo type. His eyes mischievous and his laughter infectious. I found myself flirty and full of the nervous excitement of youth; on the cusp of womanhood. Not quite understanding all that entailed. 10

I found myself lying on the beach, watching heat lightning, listening to him read his poetry.11

Words full of all he expected to accomplish. Both still young enough to think we could change the world, but old enough to know it took more than just ideals. 12

I was reclining on a quilt, while he braided my hair, kissing the top of my head as he struggled with the wording of a poem or with prose. I only listened, offering no suggestions, for what did I know? He was god...the words would come.13

We bicycled whole afternoons away. Pic niced among wild flowers. 14

Slept with the windows of his beach house thrown open to the waves.15

Fed hungry seagulls, their cries echoing down the beach, their voracious cousins would fly in swoop down uninvited. Dive bombers. Thieves.16

We touched and held, but did no more. I was too young. The ring I wore the promise that one day it would happen. 17

"You still there?" He asked. 18

Bringing me back to my kitchen. I untied my apron, switched the receiver to my other ear. Sat down at the kitchen table. 19

"I know this must be a bit of a surprise. Perhaps I shouldn’t have called...it’s been so many years..." his voice trailed..20

"Yeah," I said. "I’m still here." I swallowed hard. "How are you? How are the wife and kids?"21