This is my entry into the 'Winter Holidays Story Contest'. Be sure to vote, and either leave a comment or send feedback. I hope you enjoy it.
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Dozens of lights twinkled from their perches. A fresh pine scent filled the air. Gaily wrapped presents crowded together to find a spot under the tree. People scurried through the stores to find those last elusive gifts. It was three days before Christmas, and Abby wished it was over.
The packages were empty, fake, like the tree with its air freshener stuffed in the center. A single card sat on the coffee table; a reminder of how few people remembered her. Abby hated the holidays.
She pulled the plug, pitching the room into darkness. Across the road, her neighbor’s Santa display illuminated their entire yard. Each hour the elves at his side gave out a squawky rendition of Christmas songs. Tuning them out didn’t work, and she sighed as a deep sadness filled her.
Life wasn’t supposed to be so hard, she thought for the millionth time. Where had she gone wrong to end up so alone? She remembered childhood dreams of a house filled with family and friends celebrating the holidays together. Laughter rang out from each room. Her husband stood at her side, beaming at her with love.
The bubble burst somewhere after she graduated from high school. Struggling to find a decent job, she had taken the only thing offered to her. Now, twelve years later, she still answered phones in the same dreary office. Her boss, a lawyer with a bad reputation, saw few clients. Most days she felt dirty after spending eight hours around him, and hurried home to take a shower.
Disheartened, she went to bed. The dream began right away.
****
Wrapping paper, tape, and ribbon lay scattered across the floor. One of the kittens had a bow stuck to his tail. His antics as he tried to remove it made her laugh.
“Honey? I’m home!”
“In the kitchen,” she yelled, drying her hands before greeting him.
“It smells delicious in here. Your stew?”
He stopped in front of his wife to give her a kiss. It was part of their ritual, but he loved it. She was his other half. By the end of his day at work, he couldn’t wait to see her.
“Changed my mind—you’re what smells so good.”
He nibbled her earlobe before covering her neck with soft kisses. Hearing her sweet moans, he slipped his hands under her shirt. Brushing his thumbs over her nipples wasn’t enough. Pulling the fleecy material up, he buried his face between her naked breasts.
“Sam, baby, oh yes,” she whispered, pressing his head closer to her aching flesh.
She caressed his back, tugging his shirt out of his slacks to find warm skin. Her nails skimmed along his spine, making his shaft swell even more. His mouth latched onto one rosy nipple while his fingers played with the other.
“Abby, I need you.”
Her nod was enough for him. Swinging her up into his arms, he carried her to their bedroom. She watched him strip before adding her own clothing to the pile. Their hunger for each other made their mating swift. Thrusting his throbbing member into her creamy center was all he had thought of from the moment he got home. The reality of her sweet body drove him wild as she let go, taking him with her.
“Oh Sam,” she murmured, her body alive from his touch. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I think it was that sexy smile you gave me.”
“Is that all I had to do? And here I thought it was my stew.”
“Nah, I could live without that, but never without you,” he replied, trailing his fingers over her cheek.
Leaning over to kiss him, she shrieked when she caught sight of the clock.
“Oh my god, look at the time!”
Hopping out of bed, she ran into the bathroom. He heard the water go on and pictured her in the shower. Seconds later, she called out to him.
“Sam, hurry. Tonight is the family Christmas dinner.”
“It won’t hurt if we’re late.”
“Honey, we have to load all the gifts into the car yet, plus the food, and—”
He chuckled, knowing he would do anything for his beautiful wife.
****
Waking with a start, Abby felt caught between the dream and reality. When the image of a happy Christmas dissolved, she slammed her fist into the pillow. The doorbell rang just as she fell back asleep.
Drowsy yet, she opened the door.
“Agnes Brickman?”
“I’m sorry, you have the wrong place,” she said, moving to shut the door on the deliveryman.
“Excuse me, please?”
This time she paid attention to the man standing there. About her age, his blond hair and blue eyes gave him a boyish look.
“This isn’t 209 West Grant?”
“No, I’m 209 East Grant.”
“Thank you, miss. Merry Christmas!”
He turned to trace his steps back to the delivery truck idling at the curb. Abby watched as he swung his lean frame inside, waving at her before taking off.
An hour later, she left for work. The snowy roads didn’t seem to deter anyone or ruin the holiday spirit for them. People smiled and waved as they headed off to who knew where. By the time she sat at her desk, her mood was worse than the day before. With nothing to do, she began to daydream.
“Delivery.”
The voice intruding on her fantasies sounded familiar.
“Hey, it’s you.”
“Did you find the right address this morning?” she asked when she recognized the man standing near her desk.
“One Agnes Brickman has her packages safe and sound.”
Trying not to make it obvious she was looking at him wasn’t easy for her. It had been so long since she found a man who interested her. But his sparkling blue eyes were like a magnet, drawing her gaze up to his face. This time she noticed the jagged scar running down his cheek.
“Bad wreck. I was seven. The garage jumped in front of my bike.”
Tipping her head, she gave him a little smirk.
“I swear. It was moving day. No one told me that meant buildings too.”
His incredulous look made Abby laugh despite her mood. She could just imagine a little boy giving that explanation to his parents.
“Now that we have the hard stuff out of the way, will you marry me?”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I suppose I should introduce myself first. Sam Wyatt.”
His name brought her dream back, where her husband’s name had been Sam too.
“This is where you say yes, and then tell me your name just for the record,” he whispered, leaning across her desk.
“Abby, my name is Abby.”
She didn’t know what made her answer. That wasn’t her intention, but the words seemed to slip out on their own.
“Abby—Abby and Sam—Sam and Abby. I like it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she replied without thinking.
“Fantastic! Now I’m a happy man! I can’t wait to call my parents and tell them.”
“Parents? Ah, tell them what?”
“That we’re getting married. You did accept, you know.”
“I did?”
“You aren’t going to back out so close to the wedding, are you?”
