The
Only Gift
By: Joeylance
Song Fiction based on *Nsync "The Only
Gift" from the "Home for Christmas" CD.
I was making my list
I was checking it twice
In the middle of this
I got tears in my eyes
For in my foolish heart
There was one simple truth
The only gift I wanted was you
I was trimming the tree
I was stringing the lights
While the radio played Silent Night
There were present you sent
Though there were quite a few
The only gift I wanted was you
You need to be home with me
Alone with me
Holding me next to the Christmas tree
Kissing under the mistletoe
As candles glow
Please come home soon
It’s not the same without you
As the bittersweet night
Had come to an end
(An end)
I was saying goodbye
(Bye, bye, bye)
To my family and friends
SUNDAY – DECEMBER 22ND
"So that my friends is the true meaning of
Christmas. As the song says may your
days be merry and bright and all your Christmases be white." With those final words, she hit the save key
on her laptop. "Done" she
sighed in relief. Then she re-read it.
"Oh my gosh." She said when she finished.
"This is the worst piece of crap I’ve ever written. Talk about trite and cliché filled. For crying out loud – I’m a
professional. I get paid to write this
drivel? This reads like a 3rd grade
essay that the teacher puts up in the hallway for parent's night. The one that gets the gold star and then a
place of honor on the refrigerator door.
It’s god-awful, but I just can’t think anymore tonight. My brain is fired. Maybe tomorrow in the cold harsh reality of that 10:00 AM
deadline looming on the horizon; things will come together."
"It’s a Christmas column for pity’s sake"
she continued out loud to no one in particular. "How hard can that be to write?" Apparently very – since she had written and
re-written it way too many time to count.
If her computer screen had been a piece of paper there would be holes in
it from all of the deletions. She normally could write these in her
sleep. Actually, she had the bad habit
of writing and fine tuning her columns in her head before going to sleep and
then losing them in the morning.
Sometimes she figured that a tape recorder by her bed would be the
solution, but so far, she hadn’t acted upon that idea. Some of her best works were lost to the
ages.
Looking over the column one more time, she realized
that her first assessment of it was correct.
Sure some parts were okay with just the right amount of saccharine
sweetness to bring a tear to the eye and a lump to the throat. The sugar plum fairy, peace on earth, good
will to men blah blah blah that was expected at this time of the year. It wasn’t like she "hated"
Christmas. I mean she wasn’t worried
that the ghost of Christmas past would
show up at the stroke of one. She just had no time for Christmas this
year.
Samantha closed the lid of her laptop and set it
down on the coffee table. She would
re-write, spell check and proof it in the morning. It doubtlessly also had numerous grammatical and spelling
mistakes as Ninja; her new black kitten has "helped." The cat meowed in protest as the action of
placing the computer down had caused her to be squished when Sam leaned
forward.
"Sorry, little one." She said as she stroked the cat’s ears who
purred in response bumping her nose against Sam’s with her paws resting on her
shoulders. Absentmindedly petting the
cat she thought about all the things she had to do in the next few days before
Christmas arrived. This was her second
Christmas without her parents and the first without him.
She sometimes wondered if things could get any
worse. Yes, actually it could, she was
living in LA at Christmas time. LaLa
Land whose Christmas trees were pink or sometimes blue and Santa wore shorts. Where palm trees were strung with Christmas
lights and poodles were dyed red and had green toe nail polish. Where the excess of Christmas was evident in
spades. Christmas was snow and pine
trees and well. At least that’s what
all the cards depicted. Not that she
had ever seen snow at Christmas being from Mississippi and all, but it just
seemed wrong out here.
Mississippi –how many years had she been gone? It would be seven in June. That last year, she had been staying at her
Grandma’s house till the end of the school year. She was moving out to Los Angeles to join her parents;
successful, free-lance writers who had written several scripts which had been
made into TV shows. Being there would
allow them to be closer to the action.
Also since this was going to be Sam’s career path, they figured it would
be a great opportunity for her.
Although only sixteen she had enough credits to graduate, and she would
be entering college when she got there.
She didn’t mind leaving Clinton. She had never been accepted there. She was the "weird" writer
chick. The one that didn’t fit in. Writing had been her escape and
salvation. It still was. She wasn’t popular and she wasn’t talented. Well, not in the musical and theatrical
sense. Sometimes she wrote for the
school paper but most people didn’t "get" her writing. Not that they were hicks or dumb, it was
just that she had a very unique and unusual style that wasn’t quite
understood. One reviewer in the school
paper had called her stories childlike and excessively over-written.
Oh, she had a few close dear friends but they were on
the outside fringe like her. She was
tall, gangly and shy with braces, thick glasses and oily skin. The "perfect" geek; a straight A
student, in the Honor Society and totally unaccepted by the "popular"
kids. She remembered how someone had
once said; "these were the best years of your life." If so, she had thought just shoot me now.
All this time, the radio had been softly playing
Christmas music in the background. She
was not really even listening then "The Only Gift" came on.
And they all wished me well
And I knew that I knew
The only gift I wanted was you
"Oh my gosh" she said as she whirled
towards the radio. That was Lance
Bass. Talk about a blast from the past;
to use a tired old cliché. He was one
of the popular kids and hearing his deep voice brought back the End of the Year
Dance incident or as she liked to refer to it "the why I wish I’d had
Carrie power that night. They’d been in
school together since first grade; in fact, his mother had been her teacher one
year. They weren’t fast friends or
anything like that since they ran in completely different circles.
Anyway, the End of the Year Dance (such an original
name) was held the day before the last day of school and was semi-formal. She hadn’t been planning to go (she was
leaving for California as soon as school was out) till she started getting
notes in her locker signed Lance.
Looking back, now she couldn’t believe how naïve and gullible she’d
been. The notes said that he wanted to
take her to the dance but was too shy to ask her in person.
If she wanted to go, she should just respond with a
note. They had communicated this way
for a week. She was hesitant but the
notes got more and more insistent, so she figured what the heck; it might be
fun. Besides, it beat staying home and
ridiculing the people who went; like she had done each previous year with her
friends.
The last note said that he would pick her up at her
house and he was arriving in a Iimo.
Plus she mustn’t tell anyone; it would be their little secret. All would be revealed at the dance. She was so excited. She couldn’t believe how much it meant to
her to be going. Her grandma helped her
pick out a special dress; do her make-up and fix her hair. She hadn’t even told her close friends.
That night she waited nervously on the porch for
him. The note had said he would pull up
and honk the horn twice. He arrived right on time. As she was walking towards the Iimo the door was flung open and a
bag of dog food and a corsage of dog bones was thrown onto the sidewalk. She heard laughter as the Iimo door slammed
shut and sped away. The card on the dog
food said, "Here’s our dinner out hope you enjoy it." While the "corsage" card said
"The perfect flower for the perfect dog.
Bark Bark." She stood there
for the longest time stunned as tears streamed down her face. Running into the
house, she didn’t even stop to explain to her
grandma why she wasn’t going to the dance.
She had just wadded up the dress and thrown it in the trash. The dog food and corsage were inside it. She didn’t go to school that last day. Instead, she stayed home and packed. No sense in giving them more fuel for their
fire. Leaving the next day, she never looked back. Grandma moved out soon afterwards to be with them till she passed
away. Sam had vowed never to return.
Now he was a big "poop" star, as she
liked to say. It seemed fitting – she
liked the canine analogy. Switching off
the radio, she decided that sleep was what she needed and headed to bed. Ninja following closely on her heels.
Part 2
MONDAY – DECEMBER 23RD
Sam was up bright and early the next morning. After feeding Ninja and having a little
breakfast she picked up her laptop and completely re-wrote her column Finally
satisfied and coupled with the fact that is was 9:59 she sent it off to her
editor. Drinking her juice she got out
a piece of paper and made a list of "to dos" for the day. She had to get a few last minute groceries
and then she was going to go through the decorations that had been
packed away since she had moved into her new
home. After her parents death she
decided that their house was much too big for just one person. She had sold it and bought a modest little
one for herself. Her parents had been
very successful since their move to LA winning numerous Emmys and being in
great demand. They had left her
extremely well off with a very substantial trust fund. Wisely, they had stipulated that she would
just get a small allowance from it till she was 30. She could however sell the house if she wanted. The other reason she didn’t want to stay
there was too many memories. Good ones,
mostly, but it was just more than she could bear at times. It was easier to start in a new place.
Before heading out, she decided to check her
e-mail. Logging on she saw there was a
message from her publicist. Probably
her new press release. She was
compiling a collection of her best columns for release in the spring. Printing it out, she sat down to read it and
add her own comments. Allof which she wouldn’t be sending back to the
publicist. Sometimes her sarcastic
tongue got her in trouble, so she tried to curb that
tendency.
She wasn’t always successful.
Press Release – Samantha Harrison
Samantha Harrison is a twenty-three year old writer
phenom who resides in Los Angeles. (Oh
please, we just don’t know how to classify her "unique" talent.) She writes under various pseudonyms and in
various genres. (She listens to the
little voices in her head and they drag her every which way). As Miss Jane, she writes humorous musings
about life in the rural South. (Who
knew the trauma of my adolescence would pay off so handsomely.) Her weekly column isn’t as irreverent as
Dave Barry but it strikes just the right chord between humor and angst. (Now I’m being psychoanalyzed?)
She also writes as Sam Harris. One of the premiere hard-boiled detective
novelists of our time. Her hard edge
style, witty dialogue and tantalizing twists and turns have made her works
sought out by many. (They make a great
beach read.)
Another area she has seen success in is the field
of romance novels. You are probably
familiar with Desiree Flame. She is one
of today’s best selling romance novelists – a modern day Barbara Cartland or
Danielle Steele. (Yea, like they are
hard to write. Just follow the formula
of meet, break up and get back together and you have it made. Of course, a little bodice ripping and heavy
breathing are helpful too. They are mostly
PG –13. I
can’t bring myself to write porn.)
S. J Harrison is the name you might be familiar
with if you read various magazines from Reader’s Digest" to "Truckers
International." (Hey, a girl had
to eat in the beginning.)
We are hoping to soon see a novel written under her
own name. (Every writer has the great
American novel in them. However, I
think mine is buried so deep in my psyche it may never come out. This girl really needs to get a life; all
she does is write.)
Samantha is the daughter of the late Sid and Mary
Harrison who were tragically killed in a private plane accident in the summer
of 2001. (I was supposed to be on that
plane, but was delayed. Talk about the
guilt I had to deal with for awhile.)
We think that you will continue to hear great
things from this still young and very talented writer – Samantha Harrison (Yes,
get the name in there again.)
She dashed an e-mail off to John to tell him that
is sounded great and wished him a Merry Christmas. She would see him tomorrow at Stacy and Ted’s party. She then got dressed and headed to the
grocery store. When she returned she
removed Ninja from the counter for the millionth time and put the food away.
Time to tackle the decorations. Going up to the attic she got out the boxes
that her grandma had so lovingly packed away each year when the holidays were
over. These boxes hadn’t been opened
for three years. She carried them
downstairs and then went and got her grandma’s artificial tree. At least it wasn’t pink. Actually it was quite realistic and it sure
beat vacuuming up needles. After
struggling to put it together in the
proper order, the directions had been lost; she
stopped for lunch.
LATER
She sat down on the floor and began to open the
boxes of ornaments. Each had the
contents listed on the outside along with the year in which they were
purchased. The ornaments had been
carefully wrapped in tissue paper. The
first contained ones she had made in school.
You know the ones, that only a grandma or mother could love and do. She laughed at some of her creations. Art certainly hadn’t been her forte. She found the ones that her grandparents had
put on the tree each year. They brought
back so many
wonderful memories. As for the lights, she had picked up some new ones at the
store. When she was finished she stood
back and admired her work and then took Ninja out of the tree for the twentieth
time in ten minutes. Maybe this wasn’t
such a good idea.
After taking the boxes back up to the attic, she
tripped over a box that she missed before.
It had come from her grandma’s house but she never opened it. Curious she sat down and tore off the
tape. It had copies of all of the
stories she had written in school; her awards, etc. There on the bottom was a wrapped present addressed to her. She took out the card and read: Sam, I am
sorry that I missed you on the last day of school. Best of luck to you in California. Write me some time and let me know how you are doing.
Hope you
like this book. I remembered you once
said she was your favorite. Your
friend, Lance. She tore off the paper
with trembling hands to find a collection of Emily Dickinson’s poems. She was her favorite poet. This made no sense. Why had he sent this to her? This was going to require some serious
thought.
TUESDAY – DECEMBER 24th
It was almost time to get ready for the party. She had been thinking about Lance since last
night and still couldn’t figure out why he had sent her the poetry book. It wasn’t like the answer would change the
course of history but it was bugging the heck out of her. Oh well, time to focus on other things. Going to a party and acting like she was
having a good time. She hadn’t wanted
to impose on Ted and Stacy’s Christmas but they weren’t going to have her spend
the evening alone. Luckily, she had
plans for tomorrow so she wouldn’t be getting any more pity invitations.
Being an e-mail junkie, she decided to check one
more time before getting dressed.
Curious, she saw Theodore Giesel on her new contacts list. Who did she know that used a Dr. Seuss’
pseudonym? She opened it and couldn’t
believe her eyes.
Dear Miss Jane,
I got your e-mail address
from the bottom of your column which I read in this morning’s newspaper. I haven’t been touched this much by writing
in such a long time.
I am a "good ole
southern" boy at heart and it warmed me to read your words. You took me back to my childhood. It was almost like you were there with me
when I was rowing up. You made me think
about things I had thought were long buried.
It was mostly happy memories but a few hit really close to home. Thank you so much. In my busy, hectic life, I sometimes forget to stop and think
about the things that are really important in life. Again thank you so much and Merry Christmas!
Sincerely,
Lance
Bass
"Holy Hell" she said. Then chagrined added "Sorry Grandma,
I’ll put a quarter in the swear jar.
Why does Lance keep coming back into my life after all these years? It makes no flipping sense."
And you need to be home with me
Alone with me
Holding me next to the Christmas tree
Kissing under the mistletoe
As candles glow
Please come home soon’
It’s not the same without you
Deck the hall with boughs of holly
Fa la la la la la la la la la la la
Ooh Ooh
The only gift I wanted was you
LATER
She checked her reflection in the mirror one last
time before heading out the door. Her
dark brown hair was pulled up in a simple twist and held with a silver
clip. Her violet eyes were enhanced by
the colored contacts she now wore. She
had on a dark violet velvet dress, a simple design, clinging in all the right
places to her 6 foot frame. Slipping on
her silver heels and grabbing her purse, she headed out the door.
Arriving at Ted and Stacy’s she saw that the usual
suspects were there. Writers, industry
people, friends etc. Scanning the room,
she saw that "he" was here.
Oh well, she knew that she’d have to see him some time just why did it
have to be tonight!
Kendall Sinclair, his name even sounded like one of
her romance characters or Ace Sinclair as he was known was surrounded by a bevy
of silicon plastic babes hanging on his every word. She was just disgusted.
How did I ever got hooked up with him?
Oh wait, I remember he was hired to play a bit part on
"Malibu" my parents’ new show.
Looking back, she realized that he was just using her to further his
career. What better way than dating the
writers’ daughter. He had a lead role
by the end of the season. She
might be a great writer, but was a lousy judge of
character. They had dated and he’d
proposed. Like an idiot, she’d
accepted. Then he had asked to stay at
her parents’ place while his was being painted. They were going to be out of town so it was perfect. Returning home early Sam had found him
"entertaining" a few close friends.
The engagement was off.
Steeling her spine, she went over to said
hello. No use being bitter. He gave he that "star" smile and
then returned to his groupies.
Turning she froze in her tracks. Why was he here? Holy @$#&! (Sorry Grandma).
It was Lance Bass. Looking well,
frankly HOT no very HOT. She remembered
reading that he had been training to go into space. It had certainly paid off.
This was surreal.
Lance looked up and saw a stunning vision across
the room. Sam would have done Hans
Christian Andersen proud. The Ugly
Duckling has blossomed into a beautiful swan.
(I know it’s a cliché but work with me here) Who was she? There was
something oddly familiar about her. He
couldn’t figure it out.
Sam was looking for an escape route when Stacy came
up beside her. "Would you like to
be introduced?" She asked.
Startled Sam snapped back into focus. "What?" she asked confused.
"I said would you like to be
introduced?" Replied Stacy.
"Oh I’m not…..Sam stammered.
"I won’t take no for an answer" said
Stacy as she dragged Sam across the room towards Lance.
"Please introduce me as SJ not Samantha"
whispered Sam desperately.
"Why?"
Asked Stacy.
"Please just do it." She begged.
"Okay, but I don’t understand" was
Stacy’s reply.
"Lance, there’s someone I would like you to
meet" she said griping Sam’s arm so she couldn’t run away.
“S.J. Harris – Lance Bass.”
He smiled warmly and extended his hand. ""Very pleased to meet you."
"Likewise" said Sam as she took his hand
in hers.
"I’ll leave you two to get
acquainted." Said Stacy as she
left them standing there.
"Damn" thought Sam to herself. This was a set-up. Stacy invited him so she could "hook" us up. If only she knew our history."
"SJ?
Does it stand for something?"
He said as he released her hand.
"No, SJ is just fine." She replied.
"So what do you do?" He asked politely.
"I’m a writer." She replied. No sooner
has the words left her mouth then Alex walked by and said "Great Miss Jane column today. It was one of your best ever!"
"You’re Miss Jane?" He said excitedly. "I sent you an e-mail on that very column. It really touched me."
"Guilty as charged and I read your e-mail just
before coming her tonight. Thank you it
was very thoughtful of you." She
responded.
"You are very talented." He continued. "Quite unique. You
have an ability to put together words that normally one wouldn’t associate with
each other."
I appreciate your kind words. Writers don’t often get such immediate
feedback on their work. It is one of
the few "entertainment genres" that don’t get instant
gratification."
They stood making small talk for the next few
minutes then he asked. "So where
do you get your inspiration for Miss Jane?
It is so true to life. Did you
ever live in the South?
Momentarily taken aback she responded "Well I
sometimes draw on life experiences like End of the Year Dances and other times
I make it up out of whole cloth."
She scanned his face and saw no flicker of remembrance."
"End of the Year Dances? Did you have those too? He responded back and then continuing
said. "I always thought that they
were a little lame, but fun to attend.
Did you get to any?"
This is crazy she thought to herself. He doesn’t have a clue. "No, I was invited to one my last year
of school by someone I had always thought was a nice person even if he wasn’t a
close friend. It turned out that it was
just a ruse for a cruel joke. My date
if you could call him that pulled up in a limo and threw dog food and a dog
bone corsage at my feet before speeding off.
It was probably one of the most humiliating and hurtful experiences of
my life."
"Oh how terrible for you. He should have been taken out and…well
that’s just wrong." He responded
angrily.
She stood there staring at him. Unable to believe his words. Finally, he said. "You know you are either the world’s greatest actor or a
totally and completely unfeeling son of a #^@*&!
That being said she turned and walked away; leaving
him standing there totally perplexed.
Regaining his senses – he tried to follow her but was stopped by
numerous people. BY the time he had
freed himself – he saw that she was heading out the door.
Sam had made her excuses and was just getting into
her car as Lance got to the doorway.
Speeding off she didn’t see him standing there totally lost.
Ace walked out and stood beside him having
witnessed their conversation inside the house.
"I see that you have been subjected to the infamous Samantha Harrison’s
charm."
"What?"
Said Lance turning to face him.
"I said I see that you have been treated to
the fabulous people skills of my ex-fiancé."
"Samantha Harrison?" Lance repeated
"Yeah the great writer for Mississippi. The phenom of the month. The cold fish that writes steamy romance
novels and never puts out."
Lance resisted the strong and violent urge to punch
him in the face. Instead he just turned
and walked quietly back into the house where he headed for the bar. Getting his drink he took it outside to the
patio and sat down to think. Samantha
Harrison; that was Sam! Boy had she
changed! Now he realized why she had
looked so familiar. But why was she so
mad at him? It has something to do with
the End of the Year Dance over seven years ago. He had been planning to go and then had gotten sick in
school. Who would have pulled such a
mean and cruel trick on her and why was she blaming him? Thinking back he remembered that her
grandmother had been very cold to him when he dropped off Sam’s going away
gift. He had to talk to her and
straighten this misunderstanding which seemed to have been brewing in her mind
for all these past years. He’d get her
number from Stacy or barring that he still had her e-mail address. He’d do it tonight!
WEDNESDAY– DECEMBER 25th
You need to be home with me
Alone with me
Holding me next to the Christmas tree
Kissing under the mistletoe
As candles glow
Please come home soon’
It’s not the same without you
I was making my list
I was checking it twice
In the middle of this
I got tears in my eyes
For in my wishful heart
There was one simple truth
The only gift I wanted was you
For in my wishful heart
There was one simple truth
The only gift I wanted was you
Christmas!!!!
As much as she hated to admit it – Sam was looking forward to
today. She volunteered at the 17th
Street Homeless Shelter/Mission once a week.
Today she was going to help serve dinner, play with the children and
then help hand out gifts. She also had
a special story which she planned to share.
They gave her so much more than she gave them. This WAS the true meaning of Christmas.
After showering, feeding Ninja and eating breakfast
she slipped on a red turtleneck sweater and blue jeans. Running a little late, she decided to check
on her e-mail when she returned. What
could be so urgent that she had to read it on Christmas day? Grabbing her keys – she was heading out the
door as the phone was ringing.
Hesitating for a moment, she considered answering it but figured the
machine could get it. She didn’t want
to be late.
Arriving at the mission and parking her car, she
went inside. Immediately mobbed by the
children she was giving hugs and kisses when the director came over.
"Sam, so glad to see you. It’s so wonderful that you would give up
your Christmas to help us." Said
Mary Jones, the director.
"I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather
be." She sincerely replied.
"Children, I need to speak to Sam for a few
minutes, so if you could please let her go.
I’ll return her to you all as soon as possible."
Reluctantly and with some grumbling the kids
released Sam.
"I’ll be in soon, save me a place on the
sofa. Okay? She said laughingly.
Tousling a few heads of hair before she left.
When they got into the office, Mary motioned for
Sam to sit. After they were both
seated, she said. "Sam, I also
want to thank you for your very generous donation. Rest assured it will be put to good use."
"You are very welcome. Replied Sam. Now what can I do first?
I am at your disposal.
"Here’s how we plan to have things go, but you
know from experience that things don’t always run smoothly here. Today is no exception. We will be having a celebrity visiting." Said Mary.
Oh great thought Sam a photo op to add to some
star’s ego tip. Then she said
aloud. "Not to be cynical but is
this going to just be a quick in and out with photographs and no real help
given?’
"No, replied Mary. " He is just going
to accompanied by his bodyguard. No
entourage and no photographers."
"That’s refreshing. Who is this generous star?"
She inquired.
"Lance Bass" said Mary. "I’m sure that you’re heard of
him. He asked specifically if you would
be here today?"
"He did?
Why?" Sam said
incredulously.
"I don’t know" Mary replied back. "We’ll just have to wait and see. Now here’s the plan. You can play with the children and then read
your story. After that, we will serve
dinner and then hand out the gifts. The
rest of the day we’ll play by ear."
"Sure" said Sam somewhat dazed. Life certainly kept throwing her curve balls
and she was striking out. Why does this
man keep showing up in my life? She,
momentarily considered coming up with some excuse and leaving, but the thought
of disappointing the children was not something she was prepared to do. She’d just have to make the best of it. No more running away!
Sam was in the playroom attempting to play Twister
when she heard a commotion in the hallway.
HE must be here. Momentarily
distracted she fell in a heap with children piled on top of her. Lance walked in with Mary and his body guard
John and saw Sam giggling on the floor as three of the girls were tickling her.
"Stop, stop." She said trying to catch her breath. "I give up."
"Alright girls, let her up." Said Mary firmly.
The girls stopped and Lance walked over and held
out his hand to her. She hesitated and
then took it as he helped her up.
"Good to see you again." He said warmly. "I see that your mood has improved considerably since last
night."
"It must be the company – it’s so much nicer
than the other night. She replied with
a slight edge to her voice.
Releasing her hand, he turned to Mary who was
walking over to them and said.
"What can I do to help? I
am all yours."
Well, until Sam reads her story you can just hang
out and play with the children. We have
a variety of board games, etc to choose from.
I try and limit their use of video games and TV. I stress finding other ways to amuse
themselves rather than electronically.
It seems to keep things calmer."
She answered.
"Great!
Okay guys what shall we do? He
said turning to the kids.
"Twister, Go Fish, Racko," they were all
yelling at him.
"Wait one at a time." He said as he threw his hands up in the
air. "I see that you have been
playing Twister. That looks like fun,
but I’m warning you I’m not very good at it.
My friend JC is much more limber and flexible than me and plays a mean
game of Twister."
"Sam" he said turning back to her. Do you want to play with me?"
"No" Sam responded "I think I’ll sit this one out. Besides how do I know you will play
fair? You haven’t in the past."
He got a hurt look in his eyes and said, "I
promise – I’ll be good and we have to talk later."
"That would be a new one.’ She retorted back. "And we’ll see about the talking."
Suddenly realizing that the children were staring
at them, she stopped. This was not fair
to the children and was not the reason she was here. Her tone brightened and she said. "Let’s play Twister!"
After a few minutes, she had to admit that she was
having fun. Everyone was really getting
into it, laughing and giggling. Of
course, the fact that she beat him soundly was an added bonus.
Mary walked in and got everyone attention. "It’s time to take your places and
listen to the special story that Sam has written for us.
Sam took her place on the chair that Mary had
placed in the center of the room. Lance
was sitting on the sofa directly across from her; little girls vying for a
place next to him. It was extremely
distracting. She tried not to look at
him, but damn he looked good in his green sweater and blue jeans. When had his eyes gotten that
gorgeous? His face was slightly flushed
from playing the game.
Clearing her throat, she started to read. Within seconds everyone was caught up and captivated
by her storytelling. The story was
about a little field mouse who was witness to the Christ’s Child birth in
Bethlehem those many years ago. By the
time she came to the end there was not a dry eye in the room.
Lance stood up and quietly applauded. "That was one of most moving and
meaningful stories I have ever hear about the Christmas story. Are you going to publish it?"
"I’m not sure yet" she answered back.
"Well, if you do I would like to buy the
rights for it for my production company A Happy Place and sell it to one of the
networks. It has the potential to be
classic like "Frosty the Snowman."
He said.
Somewhat taken back she said warily, "Let me think about it. Okay?"
"Sure."
He answered
Mary stood up and said. "All right, everyone it is time for dinner. Children I want you to go and wash your
hands and then line up. Lance I think I
will have you help serve the potatoes and Sam you can serve the corn and John
you will be at the desert table to make sure that there is just one per
person. We’re not going to have what
happened at Thanksgiving occur again are we children?"
"No, Ma’am" they responded sheepishly.
Everything went like clock work and soon all were
served and seated to enjoy their meal.
Mary had Sam and Lance sit together.
She wasn’t sure what was going on with those two, but it had to be
something major that needed to be resolved.
She was going to give them every opportunity to work it out and if that
didn’t work, she was going to lock them in her office till they talked it out.
Sam was actually having a good time. Lance was telling her concert bloopers and
she was laughing so hard she was having trouble eating. Then it happened. Sally, Mary’s assistant walked over to Lance and said that a
photographer was outside and wanted to take a few pictures.
"What?’
Said Sam indignantly as she stood up.
"I thought you weren’t going to have this be a photo op?" Just as abruptly, she sat down. No scene, Sam, no scene!
She leaned over and quietly hissed in his ear. "Let me guess you’re just an innocent
pawn in this game of life. You know not
about this whatsoever, right?"
"Honest" he said almost pleadingly. "I don’t."
"Yea, right." She responded back sarcastically.
"Sally who is the photographer? She asked.
Sally handed her his card. She looked at it and grinned slyly. I know him.
There’s no way Lance is going to weasel out of this one. "Show him in" she said.
Dean Stanton, a photographer for the paper she
worked out of walked in and over to the table.
"Hi, Sam. Good to see
you. What are you doing here?"
"I volunteer here a lot and do you mind if I
ask you a question?" She said back
"No, go ahead what is it?" He replied
"How long have you had this photo
assignment?" She questioned
"Funny thing, I was driving around looking for
some pictures to use for tomorrow’s paper.
You know, warm fuzzy Christmas stuff and I got a call that someone from
here had called the Photo Tip Line. So
I drove over to see if I could get a picture."
Lance leaned over and quietly said. "See, I told you."
She had to admit it looked good for him. She had been with him the whole time, so who
had made the call. Mary came over and
said to Dean "So who called
you? It wasn’t one of my staff was
it?"
"No, actually it was an Andrew James Johnson
that called." He said answering
her question.
"Andrew!" said Mary quite loudly. Could you come here please?"
Andrew slowly head hung down walked over to where
they were standing. "Yes, Miss
Mary?" He said barely audible.
"Andrew did you call this
gentleman?" Questioned Mary.
"Yes, Ma’am, I wanted to use the money from
the photo tip to get my Mom something for Christmas. I’m real sorry." He
said as he started to tear up.
"You know that what you did was very
wrong. First you used the phone without
permission and secondly, you violated Mr. Bass’ privacy." Mary said firmly. I want you to go and sit in my office and we will talk about this
in a few minutes."
"Yes, Ma’am said Andrew as he slowly shuffled
out of the dining room.
"I am sorry that you were called here under
false pretenses Mr. Stanton. Please
accept my apology." She said. "Now if you will please excuse me, I
have a little boy to talk to."
That being said she headed out of the dining room.
Lance spoke up
"I have an idea that I think will make everyone happy. Sally, how much is a picture of me worth to
the Mission?"
Sally thought for a moment. Before she said anything. Lance said "whisper the figure in my
ear." She leaned over and did.
Getting a big smile on his face, he said,
"Here is what I propose. I will
let Dean take my picture and run it in the paper, but he will also take some
others that the Mission can use exclusively for funding raising. There’s just one catch."
Here it comes thought Sam. His true nature finally is bubbling to the
surface. "And that would
be?" She asked.
"That you, Sam, allow me to publish your book
and then produce it for TV. The first
year proceeds going to help the Mission.
What do you say?" Lance
responded back
"So let me get this straight, you will give
the photo rights to the mission, produce my book and then give the entire first
year profits to them. So, what’s in it
for you? Salve for a guilty
conscience? Please forgive my cynicism
but this is just to good to be true."
She rolled her eyes to emphasis her disdain for the whole idea.
Exasperated he said, "What do I have to do to
make you trust me?
"Oh I don’t know" she said "maybe be
humiliated beyond belief, eat glass and die, you pick."
"Alright that is about enough," said Mary
walking over to them. She had come back
from talking to Andrew and over heard just the last part of their conversation
and knew she had to intervene.
"Both of you in my office now!" She said firmly.
Sam opened her mouth to speak and Mary put a finger
to her lips and said "Shh."
Lance and Sam headed for the office. Lance quietly whispered to Sam "This is sorta like going to the
principal’s office."
"That’s true," she replied. "But a whole lot scarier."
After they were in the door Mary said "I don’t
know what is going on, but I have had it.
I want you two to resolve this now.
Got it?"
"Yes ma’am" they said in unison.
"You are not leaving here till then. Do I make myself clear?" And with that she turned, slammed the door
and locked it.
Sam stood looking at the floor while Lance picked
at the seam of his jeans. After what
seemed like an eternity, he said
"Well, did you want to go first or should I?"
Sam looked up and said. "Why did you do that to me?
I mean we were never close friends but I always thought you were
different from the rest of those "popular" kids. You of all people were the last person I
thought would do such a thing. Then two
days ago, I find a package from you in a box of my Grandma’s stuff. None of this makes an sense whatsoever. Do you know how long I have hated you for
that night? How I couldn’t bring myself
to listen to your music when you became famous. How seeing you the other night at Stacy’s and then having you act
like you had no clue hurt? I just….she
couldn’t go on suddenly the pain of that night was so overwhelming that all she
could do was stand there and cry. The
last thing she wanted to do.
Lance walked over to her and gently took her in his
arms. She stiffened at first and then
just let it out. She cried, sobbed and
hit his chest with her fists. Finally
exhausted she just laid her head on him and shuddered occasionally. He led her over to the sofa and set her
down. When they were seated he took her
chin and raised her face to look at him.
"Sam, after last night, I did some checking up
on that night so long ago. I called up
Jamie Lee and Andrew. Yes, they got
married. Anyway, I asked about the End
of the Year Dance. Said I had heard
they might have played a prank. They laughed
and told me the whole story. Sam, they
were behind the whole thing. I never
even went to the dance. I got sick at
school. If you don’t believe me, we can
call my mom."
She looked deep into his eyes and saw the truth
revealed there. "I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I have been so blind and so stupid." She said so quietly he could hardly hear
her.
"Of course.
Now can I ask you a favor?"
He said as he drew her closer to him.
"Would you like to come home with me to Mississippi for a few days? That is if you don’t have other
plans."
"Why" she said still shuddering
occasionally from crying.
"I have a confession to make." He started to say. "But it’s not really bad unless of course you’re my
mom."
"What did you do?" She asked.
"I had a stupid argument with my mom and I
figured I’d punish her by not coming home for Christmas. She hasn’t been too fond of some of my
public antics lately. Then I read your
column and called her to apologize. I
am waiting till tomorrow because one I didn’t want to charter a plane and then
make someone else miss their family Christmas and two I was hoping to get you
to come with me." He said softly.
"Why me? I’m so confused." She said as she took hold of his hand.
Ever since last night, you are all I could think
of. I met your ex-fiancée and had the
overwhelming urge to punch him in the face.
He said.
She laughed.
"He has that effect on most people."
"Anyway, will you come home with me? My family would love to see you again. He said sincerely.
"But I don’t have anything to bring and I
don’t want to impose and I have to do something with Ninja. I can’t leave her alone. Who knows what state my house would be in
when I returned. And work" She was
starting to ramble.
Lance laughed
"Sam, you can bring Ninja; your work is anywhere your laptop is and
besides the only gift I want for Christmas is you."
"What?
This is bizarre." She
responded.
"How so?" He replied quizzedly.
"Remember Mr. Hastings?" She asked.
"Sure."
He replied.
She continued
"Well remember how he used to say that there are no coincidences in
the world. That everything happens for
a reason?"
"Sure, vaguely. His class was always so boring." He said rubbing his chin.
"Well the other night when I was having such a
hard time writing my column the song "The Only Gift" came on the
radio. The next day when I was grocery
shopping it played in the store and then was playing when I drove over here. I couldn’t get away from that song. It was suddenly the background music for my life. Then you showed up here.’ Coincidence, I think not."
"Actually" he said. "I asked Stacy for your phone number,
but when I called this morning all I got was the machine."
"So she laughed you will be the call on my
machine which I heard but didn’t turn back to answer. If I had, I probably wouldn’t be sitting here now. And let me guess you sent a backup
e-mail."
"Guilty" he said.
"You realize don’t you that you being at Stacy
and Ted’s party was a set-up? She
thought since we were both from Mississippi that we would be perfect for each
other." She asked.
"Yea, I kind figured that." He replied
"So back to the original question.
Will you come home with me?"
"Yes," she said quietly. "I have been away too long and its time
to face my past."
"I am so glad. He said smiling.
Just then the door opened and Miss Mary walked in
saying. "I hope that everything
has been resolved to everyone’s complete satisfaction. We can’t wait any longer."
They both looked at her confused.
She continued
"The photographer is waiting for his photos, the kids want to show
you their gifts and they also have a surprise for Sam. So let’s get a move on it."
She turned and headed out the door and a big smile
on her face. She had noted that they
were sitting on the sofa, holding hands and although Sam looked like she had
been crying; Mary had a good vibe about this.
Thank you Lord she said silently.
Lance and Sam got up and headed towards the
door. As they walked into the playroom,
the children grabbed Sam and set her in the chair in the middle of the
room. They then told Lance to stand at
the place on honor in the archway.
Looking confused he shrugged his shoulders and did as they had asked.
After Sam was seated they brought her over a big
wrapped box and placed it on her lap.
Standing around they watched as she carefully unwrapped the gift. When she pulled back the tissue, she
gasped. Inside was a scrapbook. Opening it, she saw that they had made
pictures, written stories, poems etc.
It was so beautiful and so heartfelt she started to cry.
"Please don’t cry," said Anisa "We made this for you to be
happy."
Sam drew her close. "These are happy tears." She reassured her.
Just then, Tamara grabbed her hands and Jake took
the scrapbook as they pulled her to her feet.
They dragged her over to where Lance was standing. "Tamara said, "You have to kiss
Lance now."
"What?" said Sam loudly.
"You have to kiss him because he is standing
under the mistletoe. It’s a
law." Said Tamara firmly.
Lance and Sam just looked at each other and then
glanced back at the room where everyone was waiting expectantly. Lance finally said, "Well we can’t disappoint our
public" and leaned over a gave her a peck on the cheek.
"Boo, Boo" yelled some of the kids. "Give her a real kiss. That’s the kind of kiss our moms give
us."
Lance reached over and taking Sam in his arms drew
her to him. He lifted her chin with his
hand and leaned forward. Closing her
eyes she felt his lips gently touch hers.
The kiss was soft and sweet. She
was starting to draw back when she heard
"C’mon you guys can do better than that." She realized that the voice was Mary’s;
taking her arms and putting him around his neck, she deepened the kiss. It was indescribable.
"Alright.
Wo ho!’ Yelled some of the
kids. Lance and Sam turned to see every
body smiling and laughing.
She whispered in his ear. "You realize of course that we have been set up again?"
Lance laughed.
"I know and I’m loving it."
"Okay" said Mary "enough of
this. We have other things to do."
Lance and Sam stood there looking at scene before
them. This Christmas was turning out to
be the best they had ever had.
As the children were getting out their gifts and
starting to play, he pulled her back under the mistletoe. Before kissing her, he said, "you know, it really is true; the only
gift I want for Christmas is you."
The End
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