Surrounded by the happy bustle of the holiday, I smile, I joke, I laugh in all the appropriate places. Yet, over it all is a lingering ache, a yearning to be somewhere else. Lingering images of him overlay my thoughts, sometimes vividly catching me by surprise in the middle of activities, always there just below the surface. His voice floats in my mind, filling in his replies to my imagined questions.
Cradling the cup of coffee in trembling fingers, I inhale the aromatic fumes that float around my face and smile at my father, as he proudly models the hat I had knit him. As I lift my eyes, I once again catch a conspiratorial glance pass between my brothers, and brush it off as their excitement at managing to keep their present for our parents a secret this year.
Gradually, the floor beneath the tree became visible. Final packages are distributed and the requisite oohs and aahs uttered. Rising, I offer to help Mom with the meal. She thanks me for the offer, but says it is pretty much ready, just has to go in the oven to cook, and suggests I play some carols for her.
I laugh softly as I realize all my carol books are already spread over the beautiful old upright piano. Lifting the lid, I am overcome with wonder as always by the glittering spread of the keys. Without thought, I begin to pick out the notes of my favorite carol. A smile flickers across my face as I hear my father's mellow tenor blend with my own husky contralto.
Time seems to stand still as the warm melodies of the traditional songs flow through my body and out of my fingers. My floating hands articulate the surging ebb and flow of my emotions on this special day.
The light tap against my shoulder pulls me out of the musically induced trance and I turn to see my brother, a strange combination of guilt and excitement painted on his face. "Hey, I forgot my sweater at your house with my luggage. Would you mind going over to pick it up for me?"
Rising with a sigh, I roll my eyes as I say, "Yeah, cause it's such a long walk...."
Wrapping my scarf around my neck as I walk out the door, I let myself again wonder what he is doing across the sea. He had been strangely reticent to discuss his plans for the holiday, leaving me room to wonder about his activities today.
Turning into my driveway, I'm greeted by two dog paws planted in the middle of my chest, tumbling me back into the snow bank. Laughing and squirming out from under 45 pounds worth of wagging fur, I realize that I never leave her outside when I leave. Simultaneously, I realize that the lights are on in my living room as well. I shake my head, blaming my forgetfulness on my mother's very early morning phone call.
"What?"
"Are you ever going to get up?"
"I'll be right there."
Throwing a stick for the dog, I slip my key into the lock. I let out a soft groan as it turns with no resistance, indicating my morning confusion had been complete, and I had forgotten to lock the door as well. Stepping inside, I peel off my jacket and decide to let the dog play outside for a few more minutes before putting her back inside.
Without looking, I toss my keys and jacket at the couch as I head toward the spare bedroom where my brother's luggage was stored. A muffled grunt stops me in my tracks as my hand reaches for the baseball bat I keep propped beside the front door. Pulling back the bat, I whirl around to confront the bastard who had the nerve to break into my house.
But, the bat drops from my fingers as the figure on the couch begins to rise, pushing tousled hair back from his face. My breath escapes me in a rush as his name slips from my lips. My feet propel me across the floor to stand before him. Trembling fingers lift to rest lightly on his chest.
In my confusion, the words come out in a hopeless jumble. "But how? When? You didn't say anything. Is it really you?"
