"like sands through the hourglass so are the...Days of our Lives"

Christyne's

"The Teens" Fan Fiction Site

Holding Carrie in his arms, Mike gently moved her about the dance floor to Glenn Miller’s theme song "Moonlight Serenade". They were the only two people occupying the center of the ballroom’s gleaming parquet floor. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her since the music began. He wore his full dress army uniform – the one designated only for the most special of occasions even down to the white gloves on his hands. He began to notice more than just Carrie’s face, beautiful though it was.

She was dressed all in white – a floor length gown, in fact. He wasn’t sure what one of the dress materials was but the other he recognized as lace. Her hair was formed into the softest of curls on top of her head with long tendrils caressing her neck in the same spots he loved to kiss. Around her hair he noticed a soft white diaphanous material - - a veil - - Carrie was wearing a veil. The music stopped and as she lowered her left hand from his shoulder, the diamond she wore on her ring finger refracted the room’s light revealing the rainbow captured within its facets. In tandem with the diamond was a solid band of gold. He raised her delicate hand to his lips, kissed it, looked into Carrie’s eyes and felt a contentedness unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

Carrie smiled, leaned toward him and whispered so only he could hear her, "I love you." Mike began to lean toward her for a kiss when he felt himself unable to get closer - as if something was holding him back. His eyes opened and he realized he was trying to sit up on the couch. It had been a dream - a very vivid dream.

Guinevere had rolled into his lap from her position on his shoulder and slowly righted herself still asleep for the most part. Mike lightly petted her as a way of apologizing for disrupting her slumber. All was forgiven with a rough-tongued lick to his hand as she settled back down to her own dreams, whatever they were. Mike repositioned the pillows and laid back pondering the message his subconscious seemed to be determined he receive.

How could he have gone from a little over a month ago just being a friend to Carrie to dreaming of marrying her? What had driven him to go to the USO that first night he arrived at Fort Dix – was it to avoid the potential loss of a valued friendship, or, was it once and for all to look into Carrie’s face and admit she was his future? Mike had always been one to face truths and think things through as he lay in the dark on his bed from the time he was a boy. Without other distractions he could see things more clearly in the dark, strange though that sounded.

So it was in this Sunday’s early morning hours as the rest of the apartment was quiet – except for the light purring emanating from Guinevere. He began to know the answers to the questions he had posed but what to do with those answers when it came to acting upon them was the next step.

Suddenly, the telephone on the desk began ringing startling Guinevere and causing Mike to sit up immediately.

Three…four…five rings…Mike wondered if he shouldn’t answer it so Carrie could sleep. He pushed back the covers slightly as he prepared to rise when he heard her feet padding down the hallway and into the living room. Mike wasn’t sure how completely awake Carrie was and got a clue as she bumped her toe into the desk leg.

"Ow! Darn it," Carrie whispered. She cleared her throat slightly and picked up the receiver in mid-ring.

"Hello? This is she." Carrie kept her voice low unaware Mike had been awake since before the telephone had started ringing.

"Yes…yes, he is. May I tell him who’s calling? Just a moment, please."

Carrie started to turn to her left to face the couch when Mike approached her from behind.

"Oh, Mike! You startled me. I thought you were asleep." Carried held her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone as she spoke.

"No, I heard the phone when it started ringing."

"It’s for you. It’s someone at the base hospital."

"Oh, I did give them this number if they needed to reach me. Maybe it’s about one of my patients."

"While you talk to them, I’m going to turn up the thermostat in here a few degrees. I think the tree is actually making the room a little chillier. Do you want your shirt?"

"No, that’s okay. This probably won’t take very long. They may just need to get my approval for a medication or something. I don’t have any critical patients."

Carrie nodded and handed him the phone. She headed toward the wall thermostat as Mike stood where she had moments before.

"This is Dr. Horton…yes…yes…what? Oh, my God…when?"

The change of tone in Mike’s voice made Carrie turn around to face him. He was standing but he braced himself against the desk with his right hand on the desktop – palm flat. Something was wrong – she could see it in Mike’s body language. His head had dropped as though it would help him concentrate better on what was being said on the other end of the line.

"No, no one from my family has tried to reach me that I know of. I’ve been at this number since about four o’clock yesterday afternoon. That’s probably why they called the base. They might not have known I was here. Yes, I’ll call him immediately. Did he leave any details?"

Following his question there was a long period of silence from Mike as he listened to the barely audible voice Carrie could hear from where she stood. Minutes later the disembodied voice ceased.

"I see. Thank you. Thank you for filling me in. Yes, I’ll call him."

Mike slowly replaced the receiver on the cradle – head still lowered.

"Mike? What was that about? It didn’t sound like anything about a patient."

Mike stared at the desk for a few moments before slowly turning his head to look at Carrie. What she saw frightened her. She had seen a similar look on his face a little over a year ago but she hoped it was only her imagination and the dim light of the early morning making her apprehensive.

"Carrie, come here. I want you to sit down," Mike said in a quiet voice.

Immediately, her body tensed and she stood almost at attention.

"What is it, Mike? Tell me."

"I will, but first I want you to sit down."

Mike pulled out the desk chair and reached his right hand for her to come to him. Though her mind irrationally told her if she didn’t walk toward him, there would be no bad news, her feet disobeyed and soon she stood before him looking up into what were clouded blue eyes.

"Oh, God, no, not Eric. Please, no."

Mike reacted as though he had been given a dose of smelling salts – his senses restored.

"No, no, no, Carrie. It isn’t Eric. Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think."

The noticeable wave of relief flowing over Carrie made Mike feel guilty for his emotional selfishness. Of course, Carrie’s first reaction would be about her brother’s safety.

"Who’s trying to reach you from Salem? I am right in assuming it’s someone back home?"

"Yeah, it’s Dad."

"Mickey? Mike, what’s going on? Is it your grandmother?"

Mike took a deep breath and said the words to Carrie that had been spoken into his ear minutes earlier.

"After completing a bombing mission over Dresden early yesterday morning, Lucas’ squadron was heading back to England. His plane was hit by anti-aircraft flack – there was smoke from at least two engines from what other crews could see."

"Oh, Mike…not Lucas."

"They kept losing altitude and…there was a lot of fire. By the time they got to the Channel, they had lost so much altitude they were barely above the thick cloudbank. Their buddies tried to stay with them but eventually the plane disappeared into the clouds."

"Mike…"

Though Carrie tried to say something to him, Mike talked on as if he didn’t hear her. Maybe, she reasoned, if he didn’t say it all at one time, he wouldn’t be able to finish. "They couldn’t follow the plane; it was too dangerous. They radioed in the last sighting they had of the bomber. If they did go in, they’d have needed to bail out to have a chance before the plane hit the water. Carrie, they’ve disappeared. There’s not a trace of the plane or…the…crew. It’s my brother, Carrie, my brother – Lucas - who’s missing."

Carrie slipped her arms around Mike who remained motionless and rested her cheek against his chest. She turned her face away from him until she could make the tears stop forming. She wouldn’t let on to Mike she had seen it, but his chin had trembled slightly when he had spoken Lucas’ name. They stood there for several minutes before Carrie pulled back and looked into Mike’s face.

"I’m sorry I blurted that out about Eric. I…"

"Carrie, it’s normal. He’s your brother. Of course, he’d be your first thought. I understand."

Carrie nodded her head and reached in her housecoat pocket for a tissue to blow her nose.

"I need to call Dad. Apparently, he’s been trying to reach me since yesterday morning."

"I’m a little surprised they’d call him."

"I guess maybe it’s because Maggie’s been closer to Lucas the past few years. He and Kate haven’t been as close since Austin was killed. She really wanted Lucas to stay out of the war and when he enlisted in the Army Air Corps she refused to talk to him."

"I had no idea. He didn’t mention it in his letters. Oh my, Kate must be beside herself. I thought she’d never come out of it after learning about Austin."

"Well, it’s almost six which is five back home. Something tells me, though, Dad and maybe the rest of the family are probably up."

Mike placed the call and within two rings Mickey was on the line. They talked at length and Carrie was able to follow along for the most part just hearing what Mike said and his reactions to what Mickey told him.

"Does Gran know? It figures. Give her a hug and kiss for me. Dad, even though I’m in the Army, they probably won’t notify me any sooner than they will you. If they would just tell us whether they found the plane or, more importantly, the crew, without going through the chain of command but that’s the dictated policy. I know the English Channel isn’t that wide but it probably still takes awhile to search thoroughly and particularly with all the fog hindering them. Between you, Carrie and me, Dad, the longer he’s in the water, the less his chances of surviving. Hold on a sec, Dad, Carrie’s trying to get my attention."

"Mike, I think I know of someone who could help us get through the red tape. Someone who isn’t subject to military protocol but who still has connections - especially in Europe."

Mike looked at her until he realized who she had in mind. His face showed the first optimism since the phone had rung over an hour ago.

"Dad, I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything, okay? Let me know likewise. I will. Tell everyone I love them. Carrie sends her love, too. I hope I’ll talk to you soon and it’ll be good news. Good-bye."

"Mike, why didn’t you say anything to Mickey about my idea?"

"I don’t want to get everyone’s hopes up if it doesn’t work out. They’re dealing with enough right now. He said Gran’s being the family’s strength. Dad got a call from Victor after the telegram was delivered. I was right, Lucas still hasn’t been in touch with his mother since he went to England. The worst part, other than that Lucas is missing?

"What?"

"Phillip was the one who brought the telegram. He’s had to deliver similar ones and worse to people in Salem these past two years…poor kid. The office mixed it in with his regular deliveries not realizing the mistake."

"Oh my God, poor Phillip. Mike, let me make the call. I know it’s early but we can’t afford to waste time."

Mike stepped aside as Carrie found her address book and turned it to the page containing the number she wanted. After dialing the number a sleepy voice came on the line."

"Hello."

"Good morning, Kurt. This is Carrie Brady. I’m sorry to wake you so early, especially on Sunday:"

"No, that’s all right, Carrie. I should be getting up in a little bit anyway. What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I’m glad you said that because I have a very big favor to ask of you."

Carrie proceeded to fill Kurt in on all the particulars as Mike relayed them to her in addition to what she had gleaned in the conversation with Mickey. When she finished Mike spoke with him and provided more concrete details.

"Mike, I’ll do what I can using my contacts with the Red Cross and the diplomatic corps. I have to tell you any answers might take awhile. Even I can’t always get answers to questions I need to do my work in a hurry."

"Understood, but just that you’re willing to do this is more than my family and I could hope for. I can’t thank you enough, Kurt."

"Don’t thank me yet, Mike. We don’t know if I really can be of help. Where will you be today?"

"I’ll be with Carrie until my train leaves for Fort Dix at 4:15pm. We had planned to go out today but I think we’ll be staying here – near the phone."

Mike looked at Carrie as he spoke and she nodded in agreement. There would be no fun excursion on this day. Carrie touched Mike’s arm to get his attention again before he gave Kurt all the details about what squadron Lucas was a part of to help him narrow the search for his contacts.

"Mike, I think we might be out for maybe an hour or two this morning."

Mike furrowed his brow unable to decipher what she meant by that statement.

"What I mean is, I’d like to go to Mass this morning at St. Thomas’s. Maybe you’d like to go with me."

He stared at her for maybe fifteen seconds and slowly began nodding his head.

"Kurt, we’ll be out for a couple of hours in the morning but we’ll be back around noon."

"That’s fine. Honestly, Mike, I don’t think I’ll have an answer for you that soon. That’s only about six hours from now. It will take me an hour or two just to set things in motion. I wish I could speed it up but I have to be realistic."

"I’d prefer that. Okay, I guess I’ve told you everything except for the squadron number and where they’re stationed based on the limited information Lucas was allowed to put in his V-mails to me for security reasons."

As he spoke with Kurt, Carrie pantomimed she would go take her shower and dress. She walked into her bedroom, made the bed, gathered her shower items and walked down the hall into the bathroom still hearing Mike’s voice in the living room. She started the shower and waited awhile as the hot water was slow to come through the pipes given the temperature outside. She closed the bathroom door and locked it.

When the water reached a comfortable temperature, she stepped in and stared at the water cascading from the shower nozzle. She turned toward the tiled wall, raised her arm and placed her forehead against the outside of her left wrist before silently beginning to sob. She had felt an obligation to stay strong for Mike but here, in the shower, the sound would somewhat muffle her need to release what she’d wanted to do since Mike had first told her about Lucas.

That look she had seen earlier on Mike’s face was the same one she’d seen when he’d told her of Austin’s death almost a year ago. Though she had felt sad then, should anything really have happened to Lucas, this time she would be far more devastated. They had been friends for years and though he could appear brash to others, Carrie always knew lurking just beneath that cocky exterior was a person of incredible warmth and sensitivity. Next to Mike and Jenn he had become one of her closest friends. Her sobs softly subsided and she finished her shower ready to once again be someone Mike could lean on for strength.

When she emerged from her bedroom dressed in a gray wool dress with long sleeves and darted pleats in the skirt, she saw Mike sitting on the couch staring at the empty fireplace deep in thought.

:"Mike the shower’s all yours whenever you want."

He stood and picked up his duffel bag containing his razor, shaving cream, shampoo and soap and started to walk by Carrie. He turned and looked at her and smiled.

"Nice dress – new?"

"Yeah. I bought it on sale."

‘It looks great. What time is Mass?"

"There’s one at 9:00 we can probably make."

"Sounds good. Kurt said he probably wouldn’t know anything for several hours. He seemed to have an idea whom to contact. I think if we can learn anything today…if there’s anything to learn, it will be from Kurt."

"I have a lot of confidence in his abilities. I feel good knowing he’s involved."

Mike nodded his head and headed for the bathroom.

In an hour they were walking into St. Thomas’ for the nine o’ clock mass along with several other hundreds. When it concluded Carrie made her way to one small alcove where she lit a candle for Lucas. Mike followed in kind. When she lit a second he looked at her for an explanation without saying a word.

"For Austin."

By eleven o’clock they were back in the apartment prepared to begin their vigil by the telephone. Carrie fixed a pot of coffee and made a light lunch though neither one of them was especially hungry. Mike had bought a Sunday Times and pulled out the crossword puzzle to work on while Carrie read the editorial section. A couple of times when the phone rang they’d been disappointed when it was Mickey checking to see if they’d heard anything. By late afternoon they began to face the possibility Kurt might not have been able to prevail on his sources to come forth with any information – good or bad.

"Carrie, I have to get ready to catch the train to Fort Dix."

Mike looked at his watch to see it was almost four o’ clock. He had stayed as long as he dared and still be able to make a train back to the post in time. He gathered his things and dressed for the freezing weather outside.

"I’ll call Kurt when I get back to the post and let him know where to reach me."

"You’ll let me know if you hear anything?"

"You’ll be the first one."

"Okay, I’ll walk you downstairs to the front door of the building. I need to stretch my legs and stop staring at the telephone if only for a few minutes."

Mike swung his duffel bag over his shoulder as Carrie opened the front door of the apartment. They slowly walked down the hallway to the steps leading to the front door and the street beyond. Carrie turned to Mike and hugged him with everything she possessed. When she pulled back Mike kissed her long and hard, as though he needed to feel something positive in all that had happened since early that morning.

"I love you, Mike. I’ll see you on Christmas Eve."

"I’ll be here after I finish rounds…unless."

"Unless what?"

"Unless I need to go home to Salem to be with the family in case…"

"Mike, I’ve had this feeling since we came out of St. Thomas’s that I can’t explain, but, I think Lucas will be found. I don’t know why I feel that way – maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I think it’s more than that."

"I hope you’re right, Carrie. God, how I hope you’re right."

With one last light kiss Mike began walking down the block. Carrie turned to climb the stoop steps when she faintly heard a telephone ringing. Two more steps and she could tell it was in her building somewhere. She hurriedly climbed the fifteen steps to the second floor and realized it was the telephone in her apartment. She raced in afraid it would stop ringing before she could answer it.

"Hello?"

"Carrie, it’s Kurt. I have news. Is Mike there?"

"Oh, Kurt, he just left to catch a cab to the train station. Please, please will you stay on the line while I try to catch him?"

"Absolutely…I think he’ll want to hear this."

Her heart leapt inside her rib cage at the sound in Kurt’s voice and the words he’d just uttered. She put down the phone and hunted for her shoes that eluded her for a minute. She looked out the bay window and could see Mike had just crossed the street heading for a cab. She raced down the hall, down the staircase, out the front of the building and into the street yelling Mike’s name repeatedly. After the fifth time Mike turned around and saw her running toward him. As she approached he saw a change in her face from what it had been all day. Her eyes sparkled and there was a smile from ear to ear.

"Mike! Kurt’s on the phone. He’s waiting to tell you the news and he said he thinks you’ll want to hear it."

Mike smiled, grabbed Carrie’s hand and pulled her back toward the apartment building. She motioned for him to go ahead and that she’d catch up. He sprinted up the stairs two at a time. He entered the now so familiar apartment and saw the receiver lying on its side with Kurt waiting to end the uncertain agony that had filled the day. He dropped his duffel bag and crossed the living room floor to the desk. He picked up the receiver with a shaking hand.

"Kurt, it’s Mike. Carrie said you had news for me?"

Carrie walked back to the apartment slowly. She thought she might slip on a patch or two of ice that had formed and more importantly, if Mike needed to pull himself together after the phone call she wanted to allow him time. When she came around the doorway of her apartment, Mike was eagerly waiting for her. Her eyebrows raised forming a questioning look on her face as she stared at Mike.

"They found him, Carrie. Lucas is alive."

They each walked toward one another before Carrie leaped into Mike’s arms as he swung her around in what was a dance of happiness.

"That’s wonderful, Mike! Is he all right?"

"Well, he did have to bail out of the plane before it hit the water. Air/Sea rescue spotted him and picked him up. He’s got a broken right arm and a few minor burns but other than that, he’s fine."

"My intuition after we left St. Thomas’s was right, then."

"Yup, it was. There is a down side to it, though. He’s the only one of his crew to survive. The rest didn’t make it out of the plane in time before the fire hit the fuel tanks."

"Oh, he was close to them. Does he know – I mean was he conscious – did he see it?"

"Yes, he knows. He’s at the hospital having his arm set and his burns tended to, which leads to the other news. They’re sending him home on leave until his arm heals. He’ll probably be in the States a day or so after Christmas for probably about a month to six weeks."

"That means he’ll be in New York next week! Oh, Mike – I can hardly wait to see him. We have to be sure he spends time here before he goes on to Salem. Mike, what started out as one of the worst days is becoming one of the best."

"I know. I am as high now as I was low this morning. I need to catch that train. I’ll call Dad and everyone else from the base. I thanked Kurt for all his efforts. He was amazing. He got all the information even down to the medical report on Lucas. I have a whole new respect for him and I owe him big time."

"Yes, he is very special. I’m glad to know him and say he’s also a friend…like Lucas."

They hugged each other once again before Mike kissed Carrie with everything he had in him at that moment to give. He looked into her eyes upon setting her down.

"I love you Carrie. I couldn’t have gotten through the past hours without you here to keep me from calling Kurt every other minute."

"I wanted to do that, too. Let’s chalk this up as a win for the good guys??"

Mike smiled broadly, hugged her one last time, dashed out the door and down the street.

When he was no longer in view she closed the apartment door and walked over to the mantle where the little tin airplane was sitting as part of her Christmas display. She stared at it before looking at the other representations of Jack, Eric, Kurt and Mike. It has been close but Lucas was alive and coming home. As happy as that made her, a disturbing thought also mingled in the euphoria. As the belief the European invasion by the allies was coming at some future time and the navy and marines in the South Pacific began to claim island by island, more men would be leaving American shores. The Horton, Brady and Roberts families had been tested today – again. Who might it be in harm’s way in the future and would they be as lucky? Carrie felt a chill run up her spine.

Holding Guinevere in the crook of her left arm, Carrie pushed aside the white shadow panel curtain in the living room window that afforded her a clear view of the street in front of her apartment building. Huge fluffy snowflakes floated past the glass pane on their way to blanket the sidewalk, street and parked cars. Though the window was double paned, she could feel the chilly air as she touched the back of her hand to the glass.

Guinevere found the snowflakes fascinating as she watched them dance by her nose on the other side of the window. Normally, Carrie would have found the snowfall beautiful but tonight she wished it would abate long enough for her to see Mike’s familiar stride coming up the street as he always did from the corner where the cab let him out – duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

She had been able to leave the newsroom early in the afternoon – a gift from her boss. The leaden color of the sky as she emerged from Rockefeller Center told her this would be a white Christmas though it hadn’t yet begun to snow. A few blocks from the apartment, she ran into the market to pick up a surprise she had ordered for Mike, went to the music store to buy two new 78’s and got home in time to tidy up as well as light a fire before starting dinner.

Mike had called her from the infirmary to tell her he’d be a little late. The doctor who was taking his patient load for the two days he’d be gone hadn’t arrived and he needed to review medical charts with him before he left. After putting down the receiver, Carrie had looked out the window and seen the snowstorm begin in earnest.

Now, it was almost six thirty, dark, snowing and Mike was nowhere in sight. He had offered to call her before he left to catch the train so she could anticipate his time of arrival but Carrie had told him it wasn’t necessary. She was beginning to wish she’d taken him up on that offer. She knew staring into the street through the window wouldn’t bring him any faster but she couldn’t stop peering out. Since Sunday she had waited for today. It was the anticipation of celebrating their first Christmas as a couple that had her longing for the hours to fly by all week though, as if in defiance, they had crept by until this afternoon. She wondered if she should call him at the hospital in case he hadn’t left yet.

Pondering whether to make the call or not, she suddenly saw beneath the circle of light shed by the corner street standard, a yellow cab stop. Emerging from the right rear side was a man in uniform. She saw him lean in as if he were giving the cabby his fare, turn and start to walk up the street. Guinevere, who had grown bored watching the endless snowflakes, noted the figure on the street as well. She began squirming in Carrie’s arms demanding to be set down and, once free, ran to the front door meowing.

Within three strides Carrie, too, knew it was Mike. He always had that relaxed, comfortable way of walking that she found distinctive and easy-to-watch from the time she was a teenager. She ran to the phonograph and put on one of the two new records she’d bought that afternoon, lit all the scented candles placed about the room and checked her makeup and hair before going to the door to open it as she heard Mike climb the stairs. Barely had he knocked when she opened the door.

"Hi! I was starting to get worried about you."

"Hi, yourself! I’m sorry it took longer than I thought to get a cab. The streets are already piling up with snow and the traffic is beginning to slow down because of it."

Carrie could feel the cold air emanating from Mike’s military overcoat as he entered the foyer. There was a touch of snow on the tips of his shoes, the shoulders of his coat and the top of his cap. He began to remove his gloves after placing his duffel bag under the coat rack that ran along the entryway to the apartment.

"Wow, is it cold out there!"

"Here, Mike, let me help you out of that coat."

"Thanks, I’m feeling warmer already just since I walked through the door. Hey, Guinevere, are you trying to get stepped on?"

Guinevere had been rubbing against Mike’s legs since he’d come into the apartment. Mike reached down and picked her up gently and began rubbing her under the chin, which he knew was her favorite spot.

"It’s a good thing you’re not out in this weather at the Cloisters tonight, Guinevere. You’re the same color as the snow, huh? I’m not so sure I’d find you this time."

As if in response, the cat began to meow conversationally to Mike.

"Wait, I take that back. You’re louder than an air raid siren when you want to be heard." Mike chuckled as he lowered her to the floor.

Carrie had hung Mike’s coat in the foyer and come up behind him as he conversed with Guinevere. As he straightened up, he turned and looked directly into Carrie’s beautiful face. The firelight as well as the candles created an amber glow in the room softening her features. It momentarily caught him off guard to see her in the ethereal light.

"Mike? What is it?"

"You…you look absolutely beautiful," Mike replied in a hushed tone staring at her all the while.

"Oh, Mike, you don’t have to say that."

"Yes, I do. In fact, I don’t know if I say it often enough."

Carrie noticed Mike’s cheeks, nose and chin were slightly tinged with red from the cold.

"Would you like to go stand by the fire and thaw out a little?"

"That sounds like a really, really great idea."

Carrie put her arm around Mike’s waist as they walked toward the enticing warmth of the fire. When they stood directly before it, Mike turned to face her once more.

"Before another moment goes by, there are three little words I’ve been longing to tell you all week but especially today."

"Three little words?"

"Uh-huh."

Suddenly, Mike encircled Carrie’s waist and lifted her from the floor taking her by surprise.

"Merry…Christmas…Carrie!"

He kissed her for emphasis in between each word as he uttered them and finished with a long, slow deep kiss that left them each breathless at its conclusion. Carrie pulled back enough to look into Mike’s eyes. They positively twinkled in the firelight and the smile on his face made her respond in kind.

"Oh, I get it…those three little words. You think you’re pretty clever don’t you, Captain Horton."

"Well, I don’t wanna brag, but, you’ve got to admit it wasn’t what you expected, right?"

"Mmm hmm, and the only reason you’re not in big trouble is the kisses that you delivered with it."

"Speaking of kisses…" Mike leaned in for another series of small, tender kisses as he held Carrie off the floor and close to him. Carrie’s arms wrapped around Mike’s neck as she lost herself in the moment. What finally caused them to become aware of the world around them was the needle of the phonograph as it stuck in a groove at the conclusion of the record it was playing.

"Mike, you’d better let me down so I can go keep the record from being ruined."

"Nah, stay here and I’ll just buy you another one."

"That’s tempting but I just bought it today. Besides, I want to check dinner. You are hungry?"

"Yeah, but I could just nibble here…and here…and back here…and be happy."

Mike had demonstrated by nibbling on her throat, ear and back of her neck repeatedly sending shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold outside. Amazing how he’d learned all her "special" spots in a little over a month. Though she felt herself weakening, particularly, her knees, she pushed back from Mike and attempted to regain her sensibilities.

"Mike, I…uh…really need to check on dinner and while I do that, why don’t you start the record over?"

She looked up at him pleading with a face as red as the color of her blouse. Mike shyly grinned and stepped back, knowing that only by putting a little distance between them could he stop the exploration of her neck for the next hour or so.

"Sure," Mike throatily said never letting Carrie break eye contact with him. She smiled briefly, turned and headed for the kitchen.

Mike headed to the phonograph and lifted the arm to the outer edge of the record, lowering the needle until it caught and began to play the song. It was Judy Garland’s "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" that Carrie had bought. She had seen the movie "Meet Me in St. Louis" and loved the film so much she could, and had, recited scenes of dialogue from it to Mike.

The lyric was especially poignant given the circumstances of so many separated during the holiday season. Mike put his hands in his pockets and headed back to the fireplace to soak up some additional warmth when he noticed something that hadn’t been there last weekend before he left. At least, he didn’t think it had been. With all they had gone through waiting to hear about Lucas, maybe he just hadn’t seen them.

"Carrie?"

"Yeah?"

"Were these here last weekend?"

"Were what here last weekend?" came Carrie’s voice through the kitchen door as she rattled some pot or pan.

"These…the stockings."

"Oh, no - I made them during the week when I was working on the tree skirt. I had enough material left, so I made one for each of us."

Each stocking was made of felt - appliquéd with sequins, beads and embroidery. One was a sleigh with reindeer and a Santa in the sled. On the side of the sled in large red chain stitch lettering was "Mike". The other was a snowman, with a deer, rabbit and squirrel with "Carrie" neatly stitched in green. The one that made Mike gently laugh was the one in the middle. It was smaller than the other two by almost half. Where the toe was rounded on each of theirs, it had four toes. Two gray appliquéd mice decorated it – each wearing a Santa hat and at the top neatly stitched in black was "Guinevere."

Carrie came through the kitchen door with a tureen of vegetable soup setting it on the dining table.

"Do you like them?"

"They’re beautiful, Carrie. I can’t believe you did this in less than a week."

"One evening, I just got the inspiration to use the felt material I’ve had a couple of Christmases and made the tree skirt and stockings. I was hoping you’d like the Santa. I designed it to represent the times you’ve played Santa in the pediatric ward at University Hospital and…"

Carrie walked toward him and put her arms loosely around his torso.

"I know about the Horton family tradition of hanging ornaments with everyone’s name on them. This year you can’t be home to be a part of that. I didn’t want to interfere with that tradition, so I made the stocking with your name on it instead."

Mike said nothing but wrapped his arms around Carrie and hugged her as a "thank you."

"Come on, Horton, time to warm you up with a good meal. I even made bread today."

They made their way to the table and enjoyed a slow, leisurely meal, talking, listening to the Judy Garland record a few times and reminiscing about past Christmases they had shared as kids. Carrie got up to clear the table and Mike began to help her with the dishes.

"No, no - Mike, sit still. I’ve got one more little surprise I was able to get for you today."

Mike looked at her quizzically but sat down again. He listened intently for clues as he heard her move about the kitchen.

"Okay, Mike. Put your hands over your eyes and no peeking."

"Carrie, do I have to?"

"Do you want your surprise?"

"Okay, okay – my hands are covering my eyes but I feel stupid doing this."

He heard her come through the door and stand next to him on his left. When she allowed him to look at the surprise, his eyes began to mist over.

"How in the world did you know my family always has snowballs for dessert on Christmas Eve?"

"When Jenn called me Monday to let me know they had arrived safely and get the latest on Lucas, I asked her if there was anything you had at Christmas Eve dinner as a tradition. She told me about the vanilla ice cream, covered in coconut and with the little red candle lit on the top."

"I can’t…I can’t believe…you did this. I don’t know what to say."

"Well, I do, Mike. It’s just three little words…Merry Christmas, Mike."

Mike started to laugh though Carrie could see there were still tears in his eyes. She’d had no idea how special a little scoop of ice cream could be to Mike. It made her happier that she’d had the idea to ask Jenn about Horton holiday traditions. They each blew out the red candle and slowly ate their snowballs, savoring the treat and the memories that went with each spoonful.

They washed the dishes and headed back into the living room. Mike noticed the record had stuck again and started to play the same song again.

"Mike, I like this song because of the holiday but I really bought it for the tune on the other side. Would you give me an early Christmas present and dance with me while it plays?"

"Okay, what’s on the flip side?"

"It’s another song from the movie Judy Garland sings and the minute I heard it, I thought of you and how I felt all those years when you were so close and, I thought, forever out of reach."

Mike turned the 78 over and saw the title but he hadn’t heard the lyrics before. He started the record and as the introduction began, walked to Carrie, put his arms around her and began to slowly dance. Listening to the words Mike soon understood why Carrie had bought the record.

The moment I saw him smile,
I knew he was just my style.
My only regret,
Is we’ve never met,
Though I dream of him all the while.

But he doesn’t know I exist,
No matter how I may persist.
So, it’s clear to see
That he’s not meant for me
Though I live at 5135 Kensington Avenue
And, he lives at 5133.

How can I ignore
The boy next door
I love him, more than I can say.
Doesn’t try to please me,
Doesn’t even tease me,
And, he never sees me glance his way.

And though I’m heart sore
The boy next door,
Affection for me will not display
I just adore him,
So, I can’t ignore him
The boy next door.

As the song ended Mike noticed Carrie had turned her head away from him. He gently placed his left index finger beneath her chin and turned her head to face him. As he’d expected, tears slowly rolled down her cheeks though she smiled at seeing his face.

"Carrie, I find myself glancing your way all the time. I might tease and certainly try to please you. I’m not the boy next door, now. I’m the man standing in front of you. The man who loves you."

Mike kissed the tears from her face and ended with a kiss of deepest tenderness. Neither said a word – just stared at one another – knowing their bond of friendship would be there always but from that moment forward they would explore all the emotions associated with finding that one person who made their lives complete. It was subtle but powerful all at one time.

"Wow, this is some Christmas, so far, and I haven’t even opened a present yet."

"I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Michael William Horton, you never could wait to open your presents. Every year when I gave you one, you’d shake it, hold it up to the light, trying to figure out what it was by the shape and weight of the box. Just enjoy the excitement of anticipating."

Mike wiggled his eyebrows and said, "I am about some things in my future."

"Michael!!"

"What? I’m talking about my presents, of course."

"Oh, sure and I supposed it’s never once crossed your mind that there’s a bunch of stuff under the tree with your name on it?"

"There is?" Mike feigned a shocked look.

"You are the world’s worst actor, I swear. Yes, there are all sorts of things with your name on it. It’s what came in a huge box from your family this past Tuesday at the same time I got mine from my family. Notice, I haven’t opened a single one."

"That reminds me…wait here."

Mike headed to the foyer and returned with four gift boxes. One he dropped into Carrie’s stocking, another into Guinevere’s and the last two he placed beneath the tree.

"Don’t you want to open up just one of them Carrie. Huh, huh??"

He poked his index finger into her arm for emphasis.

"No, I could wait until tomorrow but I don’t think you could last the night especially since you’re sleeping out here where they’re so close by. Tell you what, we can open one family gift and we can open our gifts to one another…but we don’t take what’s in the stockings out until tomorrow. In my family, there’s always one extra special gift in the stocking that makes it worth waiting for."

"I heard about that tradition. You’re not the only one who did some inquiries about family traditions this past week."

Carrie’s face lit up when she realized exactly what Mike meant.

"Throw another log on the fire, I’ll get my gifts for you and we’ll sit on the couch and open them?"

"Deal."

The first gift Mike opened was a medical bag with his initials in gold on the side near the handle. That was the gift from his grandmother Alice. Carrie’s family gift was a formal portrait of the Brady and Black clans in a tri-fold frame. In the center with the family portraits on either side, was Eric resplendent in his navy uniform. The note from her grandmother told her it was to symbolize the two families sharing him in their love and prayers while he was away. Mike had gotten her the "Sleepy Time Gal" record she’d wanted by Harry James and Carrie had given Mike a subscription to the Saturday Evening Post. The next gift was in a lightweight box Mike handed to her.

"Are you sure there’s anything in here?"

"Yup, wrapped it myself."

Carrie grinned as though she was sharing a private joke.

"What’s so funny?"

"Nothing, I was remembering another time you wrapped a gift for me – on my twenty-first birthday. You were so proud of the ribbon."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that."

Carrie opened the box and discovered endless amounts of tissue paper. Getting to the last layer, she discovered an envelope. Opening it her eyes grew large with surprise.

"Mike, are you kidding me? These are so hard to come by. I’ve been wanting to see this show ever since it opened. Everyone tells me the music is wonderful and the play is different but terrific. I love Richard Rodgers music but I thought he wouldn’t find someone else to be his partner writing lyrics after Lorenz Hart died."

"I knew you’d wanted to see it. Jenn told me. It took a little time but we have the tickets. Notice we aren’t going to see it right away, however."

"Oh, Mike - it’s for Valentine’s Day. Oh, thank you, thank you! I can’t wait to see ‘Oklahoma’. Wait…you won’t believe this. Here’s one more present from me."

Mike tore into the box as he did with most gifts. Inside was a small envelope. He read the contents and began to laugh.

"Well, I guess we have the whole evening planned. Dinner for two at Sardi’s…on Valentine’s Day. I don’t believe it."

"Well, I know you’ve wanted to try some of the night life in New York but we haven’t really done that, yet, so I thought this would be a great place to go and on a special day, too. Oh, speaking of nightlife, did I tell you we have a New Year’s invitation to the ball at the Grand Hotel Kurt is giving on behalf of the International Red Cross and the Swiss Embassy?"

"We got an invitation? I think I have the time off, but I can’t wear a tuxedo, Carrie. Military uniform is required at all times."

"That’s fine, there probably will be plenty of others in uniform as well. He actually extended the invitation to the four of us including Jack and Jenn but they won’t be back in time. I have to hunt for an evening gown."

"I’ll bet you’re just dreading that."

"Very funny, Mike. I can hardly wait though it’s tough to find a dress sometimes these days with the shortages. I have almost a whole week to hunt."

"You know, I think the fire is starting to die down again. Maybe I should put another log on."

"Let’s save it for tomorrow. We still have more presents to open then, including the stockings. I also have to call my family and I’m sure you want to call home, too. If the snow isn’t too bad, maybe we can go to St. Thomas’s for Christmas mass in the morning."

"I’d like to do that. After everything that happened last weekend, we have a lot to be grateful for. Did I tell you I got a v-mail from Lucas? He didn’t write it – actually, it was a Red Cross volunteer. Having a broken right arm means he can’t write, either. He should be in the States by Tuesday. They put him on the flight list to leave England the day before and I’ll check on him when he’s at Fort Dix. He has to have his arm looked at periodically when he arrives before he goes on to Salem to make sure it’s healing properly."

"I can’t wait to see him. It’s been much too long. I think nearly losing him made me realize just how much I did miss him."

"Yeah, it was a wake up call for me to. Speaking of wake up calls, if we do want to get up and go to mass, maybe we should hold off with the rest of Christmas until tomorrow morning. I’ve had a little bit of present opening so I’ll make it until morning."

"You sure?"

"No, but I’ll be here near the tree so…I’ll just rattle a gift if I get the urge to satisfy my curiosity."

"And I thought Guinevere was the one I’d keep having to swat about playing with the gifts."

They cleaned up the discarded gift wrap, saved what was recyclable and prepared to turn in. Knowing it was useless, Mike made no attempt to put Guinevere in her basket. She had already climbed up on the sofa and gone to sleep where Mike’s pillows were.

"Thank you for a beautiful Christmas Eve, Mike. It’s everything I’d hoped it would be."

"It has been for me, too, and more. This is a great one to build the future ones on, Carrie."

Carrie blew out the scented candles and silently made a wish on each one as she did so.

"Merry Christmas, Mike."

"I love you, Carrie"

Both expressions containing those three little words were spoken with heart-filled emotion. They met in the center of the living room for one final "good night" kiss before Carrie went to her bedroom and Mike prepared to wrestle Guinevere for the center of the couch.

The snow had stopped though it draped the entire street in a blanket of white. The moon had appeared making it almost daylight as it reflected off the fresh power.

All was calm, all was bright.

Saturday, December 25th, 1943 - Christmas Day

Carrie lay on her back in bed surrounded by every comforter and blanket she possessed as insulation against the cold of the room. Maybe it was the fact it was a Saturday morning or a holiday but she languished beneath the covers in no hurry to begin the day. Her limbs were relaxed to their ultimate and the linens cradled her in their loving embrace. She also thought the nearness of Mike contributed to her sense of contentment. Since awakening twenty minutes earlier at seven o’clock she’d not heard a sound from the apartment. Usually Guinevere began her morning routine of demanding food by walking up and down Carrie in the bed but she had closed the door last night leaving the cat with Mike in the living room. She thought Guinevere probably preferred that anyway seeing as how she’d glued herself to Mike from the moment he had entered the apartment. Who could blame her?

People often claimed pets reflected their owner’s interests. A dreamy smile came to Carrie’s mouth as she slowly closed her eyes thinking of how she, too, loved to be near Mike when he came to spend time with her. . The smell of his Old Spice, the warmth his body radiated, the vibration of his voice she could feel in his chest as he talked when she was hugging him were things she never tired of.

Suddenly, she heard the shutting of the bathroom door followed by the shower being turned on. There next came a sound Carrie at first wasn’t sure she was hearing but after a few bars, she was positive and amazed…Mike was singing, sort of, in the shower. She sat up in bed, hugging her knees, head cocked toward the shared wall between the bedroom and bathroom to better hear the aria.

"Ya da daa, Ya da daa,

Ya da da da daaaaaaa.

Ya da da , da da da da

Da da da da da da da daaaaaaa…"

Leafing through her vast catalogue of mentally stored musical knowledge and zeroing in on the Christmas category, she realized Mike was singing "Jingle Bells". It took her a little longer to narrow down the choices given he wasn’t using the words but the phrasing and melody gave it away. He sounded so happy and for some reason it began to make her giggle. After a few minutes the water shut off though Mike continued to "sing". Carrie, unable to keep from laughing at his rendition of the song, grabbed her pillow to muffle her nearly uncontrollable gales of delightful squeals as another wave of amusement washed over her.

Not often did Mike display his talent for goofiness in his capacity as the older brother of Lucas and Jenn as well as the eldest of their shared group of friends. He usually took it upon himself to be the sensible, responsible person when they were together. Only in rare instances would Mike let fly with silly faces, goofy dances or walks plus the occasional dead-on impressions he could do of people they knew.

Finally, Carrie pulled herself together, wiped the happy tears from her eyes and knew today would be one of the best Christmases ever. She slipped into her red, fuzzy housecoat and matching slippers, made the bed and opened the drapes to view a scene of pristine white snow covering everything on the block. The sun was almost painful to the eyes as it reflected off the sparkling crystals. Bright blue sky with not a cloud to be seen contrasted to the white of the snow. She opened the bedroom door to be greeted by a wall of warmth emanating from the living room and Guinevere who sat primly waiting to be acknowledged by Carrie.

"Well, and how are you this fine morning? Did you and Mike learn to share the couch or were you selfish as usual taking your half out of the middle? Huh?"

Guinevere rose to her feet, allowing Carrie to pet her a few times before racing down the hall toward the kitchen.

"I think I got my answer," Carrie said, smiling as she also made her way to the kitchen. She was nearly finished preparing breakfast when Mike came into the kitchen through the swinging door.

"Merry Christmas, Ho-Ho-Ho, and other appropriate seasonal greetings, Carrie."

"Same to you and many more, Mike. My, you’re certainly in a jolly mood – full of holiday cheer no less."

"Hey, I’m with the woman I love, it’s a beautiful day, and…I get to open my presents!"

"Are you sure those are in the right order?"

"Hmmm…well, now that you mention it, no…actually, I’m with the woman I love, I get to open my presents and it’s a beautiful day. There, that’s better."

"Gee, I‘m still at the top of the list?"

"Carrie, you’re at the top of all of my lists."

Mike came up behind Carrie, put his arms around her waist and kissed her on her right cheek.

"Just for that, you get butter, syrup and powdered sugar on your French toast. I thought we could splurge a little today. Powdered sugar takes up quite a few ration stamps so I’m kind of stingy with it. Could you see if the coffee’s ready while I get the grapefruit out of the refrigerator? I think we’re ready to eat."

"You got it. I’ll get the silverware, too. I can tell I’ve been here a few times. I’m beginning to find things the first time I open a cupboard or drawer."

They worked silently around one another in the kitchen in a synchronized fashion until everything was on the table in the dining area. The only noise was Guinevere’s occasional reminder to Carrie about her empty bowl. Mike had gone to sit at the table. Before joining him Carrie filled up the cat’s bowl bringing a cessation to her constant barrage of meows. While eating they decided after opening gifts they’d attend mass at St. Thomas’s at eleven o’clock. The afternoon would be reserved for telephoning the families. After finishing a leisurely breakfast, cleaning its remains and putting the dishes away, they headed toward the living room when Mike spotted Guinevere’s head buried in her food bowl.

"Carrie? Did you just feed Guinevere?"

"Yes. Gosh, she wouldn’t be quiet until I did."

Mike looked at the cat and then at Carrie.

"But…I fed her when I got up this morning. She licked the bowl clean."

"What??? Oh, for goodness’ sake – don’t tell me she ate TWO bowls of food. Guinevere? Come here, you..."

Carrie bent over to pick up the whisker-licking cat. In doing so, the feline uttered a loud, but contented, burp. Mike and Carrie stared at one another realizing what had happened. Mike leaned back against the kitchen counter and began to laugh joined by Carrie momentarily. After a minute or two Mike was able to regain his composure.

"Well, I think we’ve been had and by a cat, no less."

"No kidding. The way she carried on I thought she was starving not working on getting seconds."

"You were right, Carrie, pet owners as well as parents have to work in tandem. Guinevere’s already teaching us the technique of playing us against one another."

Mike put his arm around Carrie’s shoulders as they headed toward the sofa. He put another log on the fire then looked over his shoulder to give Carrie a smile.

"Oh, Mike, I’ve tortured you long enough. Let’s open the rest of the presents."

She barely had the words out when Mike dashed for the tree and began reading nametags. With him unaware of her scrutiny, Carrie realized she was seeing glimpses of the little boy Mike had been long before he had been a part of her life. She had seen photographs at his grandmother’s of him riding a bike, fishing with Mickey or blowing out candles on a birthday cake but it was times like these she had an inkling of the child she’d never known.

He brought all her gifts to her, went back to the tree and gathered up all of his before sitting down on the couch to open them. There were useful items like new mittens, scarves and socks plus books, a few clothing items and a couple of frivolous things for each of them. When the last gift was opened, Mike looked at her and pointed toward the fireplace where the stockings hung.

"I guess those are next, huh?"

"I guess."

"Tell you what, why don’t you open Guinevere’s first? I already know what’s in it."

"All right. I can’t imagine what Santa would find for her extra special gift - maybe a skate for her tummy when it starts dragging on the ground from those second helpings."

"Hey, this is her first Christmas. I’m sure Santa wants it to be special for her, too. If you think about it, she’s our special gift from Santa, don’t you think? What were the chances, really, of anyone finding her out there in the courtyard at the Cloisters on that cold, snowy day?"

Mike returned with Guinevere’s stocking and handed it to Carrie. She removed a small box wrapped in Christmas paper with white mice on it sliding down a snowy hill on a leaf. Mike had thought of everything. She removed the white ribbon and opened the box.

"Oh, Mike…I mean, Santa…it’s wonderful."

A small red collar with a gold, heart-shaped pendant hanging from it engraved "Guinevere" was the contents of the box. Mike picked up Guinevere, who had been attacking the pile of white tissue paper left after Mike had opened his presents, and took the collar from Carrie. He slipped it easily around the cat’s neck, adjusting the length to fit her comfortably and buckled it. She stared down at it a moment, sniffing the edges of the heart. A head bump to Mike’s chin seemed to be her personalized "thank you" before jumping down, resuming her game of attack and conquer with the tissue paper.

Mike smiled at Carrie and said, "That went well."

"Yes, you do know how to impress a girl. I think it’s your turn now."

Carrie went to the mantel and removed Mike’s stocking from the hook, brought it back where he sat on the couch and handed it to him.

"Merry Christmas, Mike. I hope you like it. I looked at enough of them before I settled on this particular one."

Mike looked curiously at Carrie trying to discern a clue from her face or what she’d said but nothing came immediately to mind. He dug down into the toe of the stocking where the gift had settled. It was in a small, rectangular box with a curve to the top of it. He slid the pretty red bow from the box taking his time to unwrap it - not something he normally did. This was a special moment and he wanted it to go slowly - savoring each second. Once the paper was removed he held a royal blue velvet, hinged box. He began to have a good idea of what lay inside. Slowly raising the lid his guess was right but not as to the extent of its beauty.

"Carrie…this…this…I…I never expected anything like this. It’s beautiful."

"You really like it? Like I said, I looked at so many I began to have my doubts as to which one you’d really like."

Mike slowly removed the gleaming gold-banded watch from the box. Just looking at it left no doubt it had cost more than a few dollars. The hands of the watch, including the second hand, all were gold with a florescent strip on them. It would be possible to read the dial even in the dark. Mike stared at the watch, noting the print at the bottom of the face "Swiss movement".

"Did Kurt by any chance have something to do with this?"

"Just a little. He gave me the name of a Swiss jeweler in Manhattan and after I picked out this one in the catalog, Kurt, by way of the jeweler, had the manufacturer ship it to the States so you’d have it for Christmas. I noticed how worn the leather band is on the watch you wear and you’re always tapping the dial when it stops to get it going again. You need a good, reliable watch, Mike, and I wanted you to have the best."

Mike unbuckled the leather band of his watch and began to place the new one on his wrist.

"Mike, there’s one more little thing before you put it on…turn it over."

Mike reversed the watch and noticed it had been engraved. He read it silently to himself at first staring at it intently before he looked up at Carrie through loving eyes. He looked at the watch again and read the engraving aloud.

"To M - - Waiting for you, Time stands still - - All my love, C"

"It does, you know. I’ve been waiting for you to see me all these years as someone you could love. I thought it would never happen. Now, the times when you’re here with me go so quickly and when you leave, every minute while I’m waiting to see you again seems to crawl by. I keep wondering what it will be like when you go overseas. I don’t know if I can stand being apart from you again. This past year when I didn’t see you was almost unbearable and that was before you told me you loved me. So, I just wanted you to know that I’ll be here, Mike, waiting for you – no matter how long it takes because my life - is with you."

Mike stared at Carrie in silence long after she had stopped talking. As if coming out of a trance, he put the watch on his wrist, reached toward Carrie removing a tear that had wandered down her face and leaned forward to kiss her ever so gently on her trembling mouth. Slowly pulling back from her he met her gaze directly.

"I want to say something to you, but, I think before I do, you should open your special gift from me."

Carrie nodded, rose from the sofa and retrieved her stocking. Hands slightly shaking she reached into the stocking finding a small box with the end of her fingers. Withdrawing it slowly she stared at the three-by-four-inch box in the bright holiday paper. Seeing the bow her memory returned to that unforgettable twenty-first birthday party five years ago. The ribbon was the same shade of blue as had been on the gift Mike brought to the Penthouse Grille that night. She always remembered it because she compared it to the blue of his eyes finding it nearly a perfect match. He seemed to have a penchant for blue ribbon – that was another thought meandering through her mind at the moment.

Carrie soon had uncovered the box, which was black velvet with "Tiffany’s" written on the lid in gold script letters. She realized the minute the lid was lifted, Mike had never forgotten that eventful birthday either. Elegantly perched in the raised interior black velvet was a pair of exquisite pearl earrings to match her pendant he’d given her marking her arrival into adulthood.

"I had Jenn get me the measurement of the pendant so the earrings would be the same size. She told me it was almost impossible because you never take it off unless you’re in the shower. One morning, apparently, she made an excuse and went into the bathroom while you were there, measured it and sent me the tracing she did of it. It’s to add to the starter set I told you about when I gave you the pendant."

"Mike, they’re beautiful."

"No, Carrie…you’ll make them beautiful simply by wearing them. I never told you but I haven’t forgotten that night at your birthday party. You had that black dress that rustled when you walked."

"Taffeta, it was made of taffeta and velvet..."

"I just remember the sound and the way you looked in it. It hit me, all at once that you weren’t that little girl who hid from the firecrackers on the Fourth of July anymore. What really drove it home was seeing you sitting there with Austin. As hard as I tried not to, I hated thinking that I’d been blinded to what he had seen almost from the first time he had met you. I sat next to you at the table on purpose, Carrie, to drive him away. I was jealous but I wouldn’t admit it, then. When he got up and left to talk with Victor and his mother, I felt this sense of guilty triumph."

"Mike, Austin and I weren’t romantically involved…ever"

"Not because he didn’t want it. Austin told me that he thought you were involved with someone but he never could figure out who it was. You never said anything to give him a hint. I’m telling you this as a way of hoping you’ll understand that I’ve had these feelings for you for a while but I kept pushing them away. Acknowledging them has been almost as difficult as denying them all this time because I worked so hard at keeping them a secret. Be patient with me, Carrie. I want what happens between us to be right and forever. I want us to have what my grandparents had. They loved each other for over fifty years in fact Gran still loves him today years after he’s passed away. The pearls are my promise to you that what lies ahead will be wonderful."

"I know, Mike, but then, I’ve known that since the moment I saw you at the Thanksgiving table. You looked at me in a way I’d only dreamed of. Of course I’ll be patient. Haven’t I been since I was a little girl waiting for you to notice me?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Maybe you should have hit me over the head or something to get my attention."

"And put a lump on that beautiful head of golden hair? Huh-uh."

Leaning forward Carrie kissed him on the top of his head. As she pulled back Mike took her forearms and pulled her to him for a kiss on the forehead and then her mouth. Though he hated to break the moment he knew it took Carrie at least an hour to get ready to go anywhere. Making a grand gesture, raising his wrist to his eye level, he looked at the dial of his watch and spoke like a town crier.

"According to my beautiful, new, shiny, engraved, Swiss-made watch it’s nine thirty and all is not well. You haven’t had your shower yet and if we want to make eleven o’clock mass at St. Thomas’s you’d better get moving. Isn’t it about a twenty minute walk to the church from here."

"Oh, my gosh, you’re right! Where did the time fly? I had no idea it was that late. I also have to take dinner out of the refrigerator to finish thawing."

"I’ll do that while you get ready. What are we having, by the way?"

"Cornish game hens, wild rice and vegetables. They’ll take less time in the oven than a turkey or roasting chicken. What time do you have to be back on post?"

"I need to be on the six o’clock train."

"Good, that’ll give us time to talk to family, eat and do whatever else we want to do."

Carrie flirtatiously smiled as she walked away from Mike after delivering the last part of her sentence. It had Mike wondering just what Carrie had in mind. She was nearly at the hallway when she came running back and picked up her earring box, kissed Mike and scooted away to get ready.

Mike read the paper, listened to Armed Forces Radio’s Bob Hope Christmas program from the South Pacific and kept taking portions from a box of Brach’s chocolate-covered cherries Carrie had gotten from Brady. It was tradition, Carrie had told him, that at least one if not more of the women in the family received a box. The other part of the tradition was to open it first so it could be shared with everyone as they opened their gifts. At first, Mike had told her he didn’t care much for sweets but he took one anyway. Now, he was finding them addictive and noticed just as he heard Carrie enter the living room that he’d gone through the top layer of the box. Carrie was adjusting the back of one pearl earring when she noticed the empty layer of the box.

"Mike, I thought you said you didn’t like sweets."

"Well, I didn’t think I did but those things are so good. Remind me to pick you up another box before we come back to the apartment. Maybe it’s the fruit, you know…the cherry center."

"Yes, I’m sure that’s what it is. Come on. Let’s get going. You can walk off a few of the cherries before we get to St. Thomas’s. Do the pearls look okay with this?"

Carrie wore a forest green wool jumper, an off-white turtleneck sweater with a dainty holly leaf pattern in it and highlighted by her pearl pendant and new earrings. Red heels complimented her outfit as she twirled before Mike for his approval.

"Very nice and the girl wearing the earrings isn’t bad either."

"Mike - quit now. Honestly, do I look okay?"

He got up from the chair and walked toward Carrie smiling. Standing within reach he took her hand and twirled her around until her skirt slightly flared.

"You look lovely and the gams aren’t bad either."

Holding up her index finger in a scolding fashion she said, "We are going to church where my legs are completely unimportant other than as a means of getting me there."

"Oh, I know, but they certainly give me a ‘religious experience’ at the moment."

"Michael! Stop it! You’re going to make me blush. You’re terrible. Come on. Let’s get our coats on. It’s a little after ten thirty now. I don’t want to walk too fast on the streets in case there’s ice. I’d like to not have a repeat of the ice rink episode, if you don’t mind."

They reached the foyer where Mike helped Carrie on with her dark green coat with the Christmas corsage on the lapel. He dressed in his military overcoat, hat and gloves before opening the door. They soon were walking down the block in the beautiful sunshine – Carrie’s arm linked through Mike’s as extra insurance to keep from falling. As they entered the church and took a pew, members of the congregation took note of the handsome soldier and the breathtaking girl on his arm, dressed like a Christmas angel. The singing had already begun. An older woman passed her hymnal to Mike with a large smile. Mike thanked her as he and Carrie began to see "Oh, Come All Ye Faithful" with the rest of those present.