�
A few days before Christmas
Why did I think it was a good idea in the first place, she asked herself, raising her hand to knock. I could be back in London, Christmas shopping, before I head back to Springfield.
She paused.
Because for some reason it is a good idea, a voice within her insisted.
She drew back her hand to knock, and, suddenly, the door opened of its own accord.
"Miss Froy!" She embraced the elderly woman. "Thank you so much for letting me stay with you. I know it is entirely out of season..."
�
The Kitchen
"... but somehow, I feel closer to Danny here." She sipped the still steeping tea, as she regathered her thoughts. "It's odd; I had started getting my life together again- or I thought I was getting my life together again- and there he was again... That dream was so real...
"I understand my dear."
"It was so like him... trying to fix my life again, and giving advice. As much as I hated to admit it, he was usually right. He really could be the 'smart one.' Why shouldn't the dream Danny be right, too?" she chuckled as she studied the tea leaves.
"Sometimes we're not meant to understand such things."
"He really would have loved it here. At least I think he would have loved it here. It's funny what ten years could do to a person." She sighed. "Who knows what ten years would have done to Danny? What would he have become in the end? Could he have really let the family go? Sometimes I look into a mirror and hardly recognize myself for the girl I was ten years ago. And yet... I still think he would have loved it here" she looked off into space, with a slight quirk to her lips before adding, "except for the early rising."
In town
She ticked off her Christmas shopping list, and hummed a medley of favorite Christmas carols, as a picture perfect, light snowfall drifted downward: Dad, Ross, Holly, Vanessa, Bill, Matt, Selena, Buzz, Drew and Jesse, Rick, Abby, Meta...
She checked her watch. Four o'clock the Saturday before Christmas and she still hadn't found the perfect gift for little Bert. She could hardly get her something from duty-free at Heathrow. This is what comes when it has to be perfect, she chided herself. You should have just handed over your credit card at Hamleys and have it done with but no.... it had to be perfect..."
At that, she spied it in the window, the perfect teddy bear, warm, fuzzy, and huggable, and antique surely, but spit and polished in a navy, old-time British sailor suit. The cap hung at such an angle that.. there was no doubt who would win the war. "I've never seen anything like it," she whispered. "She'll love it."
Snow blew in with her as she pushed open the door of the Dickensian antique shop. "Halloo, halloo..."
A rumpled pile of clothing on a stool behind the polished wooden counter magically roused itself and metamophasized into an ancient, wrinkled, white-haired man, "Yes, love.." A strangely, familiar wrinkled, white-haired man.
"I was wondering if the..."
"Oh, it's you, love! I was wondering when you were going to be back..." He immediately, shuffled off to the back of the shop, and began rummaging in several dusty cabinets. A loud sneeze emanated from the back.
"You must have me confused...Sir, I was just wondering... The bear..."
"Oh, don't fret, miss, I have it right here... Couldn't forget it... It's not every day a Patek Philipe comes through this shop..."
"No, it can't be mine, I.... I..., a Patek Philipe, you say?"
"Aha, here it is! One beautiful, gold, Patek Philipe pocket watch. An exceptional piece of workmanship. It is a very special man who would give this up for his wife's ring." Automatically, her hand went up to feel the ring on a chain beneath her sweater.
She took the solid gold pocket watch he held out to her in the palm of his hand. It felt heavy to her, heavy and warm. "It doesn't have a chain," she commented almost to herself.
"Yes, strange. Your husband took the chain off before he gave it to me. Such a cheap chain for such a piece. But I'm sure your husband will be very glad to have it back. And for Christmas yet..."
A Saturday morning before Christmas, 2000
She hunched over their kitchen table, counting a neverending series of small bills, ones, fives, a ten here and there, her eyes strangely affixed on her task
Still in his pajamas, he approached with some trepidation. "Uh, Michelle, what are you doing?"
"Hmmmmm, oh, nothing." She continued counting away.
"Uh, Michelle," he cautiously sat himself opposite her at the kitchen table. "Do you need some help?"
"No!"
The force of her objection knocked him backward in his chair. "Uh, sorry."
Instantly, she felt contrite. "I'm sorry. It's just... I'm counting money for Christmas presents." She sighed.
"Christmas presents!?" He started chuckling. "Why don't you take the credit cards to the mall? After all, it doesn't seem to stop you the rest of the year. At this rate, you're going to be counting until Christmas Day!"
"Actually, I already did all the Christmas shopping with the credit cards." She smiled sweetly at him. "You can thank me in January when the bill comes and Pilar has clothing which covers all of her."
He had to grin at the thought. "So, what's with the one dollar bills?"
Her smile faded into a thoughtful study of his face. "I still need to get you something."
He leaned in to nuzzle her neck. "I am sure I will love whatever you get me...."
She sighed happily, as she continued to count away.
He started to pick her up when she squealed, "Danny! You don't get it."
"Hmmmm," his face was still buried in her neck.
"Our credit cards are actually YOUR credit cards since they're linked to your account."
He shrugged, "So?"
"So what the point of Christmas if you're paying for your own gifts?"
He managed to refrain from pointing out another Saturday morning upstairs. "Uh, huh. You know everything I have is yours."
"But Christmas is supposed to come from the heart. I don't want to buy you something with your money, and then wrap it up." She didn't mention that she refused to ask Rick or her father to release any money from her trust fund beyond the amounts released automatically for her tuition. "I want to give you something."
"I see." He didn't ask where the ones and fives came from. Knowing Michelle, she had probably been squirelling away extra lunch money by giving up cookies or soda for months.
"Something meaningful." She started counting again.
He sighed as he clambered up the steps to their bedroom alone. He wondered how many Saturday mornings would be sacrificed to her meaningful gift.
Christmas Morning, 2000
A strange feathering sensation skimmed his tummy. He dreamily smiled, anticipating what was to come when it started.
Outright tickling. "Wake up! It's Christmas!" She bashed him over the head with a pillow.
One eyelid strained open. "Uh, I thought I was marrying Michelle Bauer in May. I think an alien has taken over her body."
She giggled. "Danny! It's Christmas. Wake up, we need to open presents before everyone gets here."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes, I'm sure." She sat on the bed with her hands on her hips. "Danny?"
She leaned over him and whispered in his ear, "After your open your gift, I won't have to get up early on Saturday anymore."
His eyes popped open, and he sat straight up in bed. "Where is it?"
A small box appeared in his lap. "Open it, open it!"
Gingerly, he picked up the box, and shook it next to his ear.
"Is it a motorcycle?"
She shook her head in mock seriousness.
"Is it a doll?"
"Nope."
"Is it a swimming pool?"
"You're not very good at this," she was practically bouncing on the bed. "Just open it!"
Having prolonged Michelle's suspense long enough, Danny tore open the wrapping of her gift. "It's... my father's pocket watch?"
"Yes, yes," she was so excited she was ready to burst. "I put it on a chain so you don't have to carry it around in your pockets all the time."
"Besides you told me that your parents broke the original chain when..., well, ahem, anyway... I thought since you're starting out it should have a new chain. Of course, it's not a very good chain, not for a watch that's solid gold, but I can replace it after I start working...."
"Michelle," he hugged her close to him. "I don't ever want to replace it."
Yorkshire, 2010
She handed the proprietor her platinum card without blinking, still cradling the watch in the palm of her hand.
As she left the shop, the proprietor called after her, "Miss, your gloves!"
She chose not to hear him.
She pressed the warmth of the watch into her palm as she drove back to the farmhouse. As she packed, it was on the comforter next to her suitcase.
When she was done, she sat down on the bed next to the watch and looked down at it. Danny had loved it so, one of the few tangible reminders of his father. Even with his father dead all those years, he had almost never referred to it as his. It was always his father's watch. Until now.
She pressed the watch into Miss Froy's hand as she said her goodbyes. "He should have this."
�