I was seventeen, almost eighteen, and this was the first time I had bought a Christmas present for a girl.
We had been going together, Donna and I, since late spring, when I had first asked her out. On our first date, I took her to a movie, "Because They're Young". starring Pat Boone, a story of teenage love and intrigue. We liked that movie a lot because we recognized some of our friends in the plot.
Since that time we had gone out almost every weekend, and talked on the phone almost every day. I had missed her birthday, so this Christmas was the first occasion I had to buy her a present.
One of the things I had hoped to do was take her to the youth party our church held on Christmas Eve, but she said that their family tradition was to decorate the tree and sing carols that night, and invited me over instead.
For weeks I had agonized over what the gift should be. My friends were of little help, though they tried. Bill suggested a bottle of perfume from the toiletries department at Kresge's. Bill was known for watching his pennies.
Another friend-goofy Larry- thought a car would make a good gift. But of course, all he ever thought about was cars. He forgot that none of our crowd had a license and anyway, who had that kind of money? Like I said: no help!
I finally decided on a sweater, a fuzzy pink and gray number. Never gave a thought as to how the color would clash with her red hair. I liked it because it was soft and warm-just like Donna.
Carefully I wrapped it, using several bows on the outside. I wanted to put a card inside, and write something mushy on it, but knew her parents and nosey little brother would see it. Instead, I rehearsed what I would say to her as I gave her the package. Over and over again until it sounded just right!
On Christmas Eve, I said good-by to my parents and siblings-they were going to grandfather's for dinner---and left for Donna's house, a twenty minute walk. Even though this is Buffalo, snow had been non-existent that winter. It looked like it was going to be a drab Christmas. And it felt warm out tonight, too. Any precipitation which fell would have to be in the form of rain. In fact a light drizzle had just started as I turned onto their block. As I went up the stairs of their Manchester Place home, I could hear laughter and raucous comments- signs of the happy holiday spirit within. Ringing the doorbell, I hid the package behind my back, and hoped that she would be the one to answer the door.A click, a widening wedge of light and the door was opened......by David Davis? He was a newcomer to the youth group to which we belonged, and now .... a rival?! Smirking, turned and called back into the house:
"Hey Donna, Mike is here."
He went back into the house, but I was so shocked by his presence, I couldn't move from the spot. Donna, her hair in a ponytail, bounced into view.
"Merry Christmas", she exclaimed, and started to kiss me, only to back off when she heard her mother coming into the room. We were both a little reticent about showing physical affection in front of others, but this maneuver confused me. Was it because of her mother, or because of ... ?
Donna led me into the living room where her whole family had gathered around the Christmas tree. Her parents, her maternal grandmother who lived with them, her creepy little brother, her older brother, home from the Air Force, and him ... the guy who I felt didn't belong.
After I had said the appropriate greetings to all, Donna signaled to David, and the two of them scurried to the kitchen. I could hear them whispering but couldn't make out any of the words. Her father was asking me in his booming voice about the weather or something equally inane. As I tried to answer his questions, my eye fell I upon a single package---a strangely familiar looking box- on the dining room table. From my vantage point I could only see a little of the contents. It was something fuzzy... and pink ... and gray.
Trying not to show any emotion, I looked away, and swallowed hard a couple of times. When she re-entered the room, alone, I managed only to say, "Donna, this is for you. Merry Christmas", and handed her the package.
With that, I turned on my heel and started to leave.
"Wait, don't go," she said. "We're about to make hot cocoa and sing Christmas carols.
"I'm not feeling well," I told her. "I should just go home. I just wanted you to have this," I said, pointing to the box in her hands.
"Hold on," she said, "Are you sure? At least let my dad drive you home if you're not feeling well."
"No", I replied, "I should really just go."
"Wait", she said again, pulling the door closed behind her. Her arms came up to encircle my neck, as she gave me that kiss we missed earlier. Confused, I hesitated before kissing her back, and she pulled away. Her eyes searched mine for some clue as to why I was acting the way was, but hearing her father call, she turned away before my face betrayed the turmoil inside.
The walk home was awful. I keep seeing the smirking face of David Davis just in front of me. The creep had stolen my girl, and on Christmas Eve, too! Why did I leave? Why did I give up so easily? And how of all things had they managed to buy her the same sweater that I did?
Thoughts of doom and gloom permeated my being. Some Christmas this was turning out to be.
While the air still felt warm, the rain had changed over to snow. Large wet flakes failing lazily through the air were building up rather quickly on the ground. As I turned onto my block, there was already an inch of the stuff crunching under my feet.
And then I saw him.
About two houses away, there was a man in a red suit backing down from a neighbors front steps. Santa Claus!
I stayed right where I was, not wanting to disturb the scene playing itself out in front of me.