A Merry Little Christmas

by Derek Handley

(inspired by the song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” as performed by Judy Garland, written by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane)

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Should I put a candle on the table?

We nearly always had a candle, more than one if Danny could get away with it. I never liked candles… I always said that the flickering irritated my eyes, but I actually just found them distracting and impractical. It’s too dark by candlelight. You should be able to see your dinner.

I can see mine now. A sliced turkey breast and some cold ham, roast potatoes. I forgot to buy peas, and gravy was too much bother to make… it all looks so dry.

By candlelight it might look appetizing. I’m not hungry now anyway.

It’s been like this all day. The last few days, even. I wanted the tree, and then I didn’t want the tree, and then I took it out of the attic anyway, but left it in its box. I bought the snow spray for the windows and then left it sitting on the kitchen table. We always had my crumbly brown bread with soup, but I didn’t bake any bread.

It’s too much fuss to bake for one.

It was silly making a dinner for one. I could’ve opened a tin of something, saved time. At least I didn’t open the wine. That would’ve been a waste.

I had so many invitations… Mum, and Larry and Jo, and Fred and Andy, and Julie. And what did I say? No, being around people would only remind me that it’s Christmas, and that would make me feel more lonely. Christmas was ours, so I’d miss him all the more. I’ll just do some work, and watch a movie, and have an ordinary day. I’m not in the mood for Christmas. It’s just another day, isn’t it? I’m fine. I’ll be fine.

I’ll be fine.

It’s been eleven months.

I was getting to be fine, and every day was another day, but now it’s Christmas. And I’m on my own. And he can never come back, and I’m alone, and it’s not an ordinary day, there’s all the tradition, and there’s what you always did, and everything you’re supposed to do, and everything you want, and this stupid plate of dry turkey and cold ham and wondering about candles, and I miss my Danny, and look, my arm just jerked out and swept the plate off the table and it smashed on the floor, and it’s just as well there’s no gravy because it’d be more of a mess, and it hurts so much today, and why did you have to go and fall and leave me Danny? All alone and I. Can’t. Breathe. The stupid ladder and the stupid gutters and you, you, my Danny, you left me all alone, and I can’t just, why can’t I move Danny why

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It’s dark outside by the time I get up again. I clean up my mess and realize I’m hungry, and I pick at the turkey and have a little ham. I look at the tree in its dusty box by the fridge, and the unused snow spray on the kitchen table. Bits of our Christmas. I’m trapped between bits of our Christmas and something else.

I sit for a while, turning the snow spray around and around in my hands. Then I pick up the phone.

“Hello, Andy? I know it’s getting a bit late, but would you mind if I came over for a while? I have wine, and a candle and snow spray…”

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Derek Handley is an occasional blogger at Live Journal and Gaming Brouhaha.