Christmas Red
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“How come it’s always Christmas when we’re kids but then after a while, you’re like, ‘It’s not really a big deal anymore?'” said Eileen.
The other three people at the table looked at her blankly. It was late and they’d all been drinking, so maybe it wasn’t too surprising.
“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Eileen said, taking another sip of her drink. “I meant how can you just stop wanting to celebrate Christmas?” she asked, turning toward the guy she was with. She knew his name but had forgotten what it was by the time they’d reached the restaurant, so instead called him Mr. Sock Monkey.
He laughed at that, but then he told them he didn’t really like the holiday. His mother had died on the last Christmas before he’d become an adult, and it had only served to make the whole thing seem more like a funeral than anything else. It wasn’t fun; it was sad and dark and depressing.
Eileen glanced at her own date. The man across from her was older and distinguished-looking, probably around fifty or so, and his white hair made him look kind of grandfatherly. He didn’t really look like the type who would complain about the holidays, so maybe this conversation could be interesting after all.
She took another sip of her drink and leaned forward as if sharing a secret with him. “But I do love Christmas,” she said, glancing over at Mr. Sock Monkey. “It’s not my favorite day, but I still like it.”
“Really?” the white-haired gentleman said, looking surprised. “Not even when you were a kid?”
“Of course! Who doesn’t want presents?” Eileen replied with a little laugh. “Besides, I loved all the stuff leading up to it,” she added.
Her date smiled as he watched her speak. “So why aren’t you married yet?”
Eileen turned her head slowly, giving the man a wide smile. “Why? Don’t I make good company?”
The man raised an eyebrow but then laughed and shook his head. “No, I suppose not,” he answered. “Well, in any case, Merry Christmas to you.”
They both stood up as the waiter approached the table. Eileen looked back at her date as she collected her coat and purse from the back of the chair. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and she smiled at him. “Merry Christmas,” she said softly.
Eileen went back home with Mr. Sock Monkey that night, and they didn’t see each other for two days afterward. It was a Sunday when she called him, and after the initial greetings were done, he asked how things had gone with Mr. Sock Monkey.
Eileen told him that the older gentleman had been very sweet but hadn’t really seemed interested in her, and she’d taken that as a sign that it might be time to look elsewhere.
Mr. Sock Monkey didn’t seem surprised by that news, which made her wonder if perhaps he hadn’t been as much of a gentleman as he thought. But there was no way to know since she hadn’t asked.
“I don’t mean to pry,” Mr. Sock Monkey said after a brief pause, “but did you enjoy your time together?”
“Oh, yes!” she said. “It was just…weird. I’ve never dated a guy who’s so…well, old.”
“You’re only twenty-seven yourself,” Mr. Sock Monkey replied.
Eileen didn’t answer that, though, instead telling her date about how she’d seen the movie It’s a Wonderful Life. She was almost done when Mr. Sock Monkey interrupted her.
“Are you saying he doesn’t think you’re wonderful?”
Eileen chuckled. “No, not like that,” she answered. “But it seems like he’d prefer a younger woman, or maybe someone who isn’t divorced.”
The older man nodded slowly. “Yes, I think he was looking for a more conventional woman, one without children or baggage, one that wasn’t in the process of trying to start a career,” he said. “And those aren’t necessarily bad things.”
He paused before continuing. “There are plenty of people out there who want a partner like that, but that doesn’t mean they have to make you feel bad for not being a more conventional person yourself.”
Eileen was quiet for a moment before replying. “I know,” she said. “That’s why I don’t think I’d go out with him again.”
Mr. Sock Monkey looked at his watch. “Well, I hope you have a nice Christmas,” he said. “Maybe we can hang out sometime soon.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’m pretty busy these days,” she replied, “and it wouldn’t be fair to bring anyone else into this mix.”
“I understand,” he said. “But I do hope you have a nice Christmas.”
She hesitated, then added, “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
They ended up hanging out a couple of times the following year when Eileen still had her apartment. Mr. Sock Monkey had a big house outside Chicago, which meant that if she wanted to see him, she’d have to travel quite a distance to get there.
But Eileen enjoyed traveling, especially if she was able to take a vacation and see more of the country. She liked going to national parks and cities and other interesting places, so that was usually her plan whenever she went on a date with Mr. Sock Monkey.
Eileen went through two years of dating the older man before she finally told him about her daughter, and the conversation that followed was one of the most awkward things Eileen ever experienced.
The two of them were sitting on his front porch swing, the wind blowing lightly off the lake behind him, but neither one of them was speaking. They hadn’t really talked in the three weeks since Eileen had come out and told Mr. Sock Monkey. She was worried that she wouldn’t be able to tell him, and was even more worried that the reaction would be bad.
But Mr. Sock Monkey was surprisingly calm when she told him about her daughter. He didn’t seem upset, angry, or even concerned, though it was clear from the way he kept looking at his feet that he was deeply troubled. And Eileen found herself wanting to talk about her daughter again and find out what he thought.
“I don’t know if it makes sense,” she said after another long silence, “but I just…feel like we’ve been here forever.”
She paused for a moment, and when she looked up at him, she saw that he had tears in his eyes.
“Oh, honey,” he said, wrapping her up in a hug. “Of course I’m sorry.”
He held her there, gently rocking back and forth in the swing, while Eileen tried to figure out what to say. She wanted to thank him, but she also wanted to ask him questions.
“So, how old are your children?” she finally asked.
Mr. Sock Monkey let go of her and sat down next to her. It was odd, she thought because it wasn’t as if they’d spent the entire evening talking, but now he seemed so much closer. She didn’t understand why, but she felt safe, comforted, and content.
“I have a son who’s six years older than my daughter, and he lives in Los Angeles,” he said. “And then I have a daughter who’s almost sixteen. That’s about all I can say right now.”
The two of them were quiet for a moment before Mr. Sock Monkey took her hand. He was looking at her with such tenderness and warmth that Eileen could hardly bear it. And suddenly, she was happy. So happy that she almost started to cry.
She closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths. This wasn’t real, she told herself. She was dreaming. This couldn’t really be happening. But then Mr. Sock Monkey pulled her close and held her tightly against his chest.
It was the first time anyone had ever held her like that, and it felt so natural, so right, that she never wanted him to stop. She laid her head on his shoulder and he stroked the back of her neck, just as she’d always fantasized he would, and then—
Eileen awoke from her dream, but it was the last one she’d ever have. She never dreamed about Mr. Sock Monkey again after that night. She tried to convince herself that he must have been in some sort of trouble or emergency, but no matter how hard she tried, she could only think about what she’d missed.
They’d had so much fun together, and now he was gone and there was nothing she could do to get him back. She wondered if she could have done something differently, but there was no way of knowing for certain.
And even if she had a second chance, she’d have to face the fact that the old Mr. Sock Monkey would be a very different person by now. It would be like going back in time and having dinner with someone you used to know when they were twenty years younger, except this time, that person would also have a daughter.
And the thought that kept coming back to her was this: What would you say if the old Mr. Sock Monkey walked up to you right now and told you that he had a sixteen-year-old daughter?
She didn’t know. She honestly didn’t know. So she waited, and hoped, and prayed, and wrote letters, and sent gifts, and waited, and hoped, and prayed, and wrote letters, and sent gifts. For several years she went on like this, her life growing steadily more desperate until at last, she realized that if Mr. Sock Monkey wasn’t coming back, then it was time to move on.
But it took her months before she could bring herself to get rid of all of his things. The teddy bears were especially hard for her to let go of. He’d made each one personally, and she couldn’t bear the thought of some other woman holding them the way Eileen had. But she finally put them in boxes and stored them away, just as a precaution.
In time she met a nice man who became her husband, and while they never did have any children, he treated her well and gave her everything she wanted and needed. And she tried not to feel too bad about the fact that, in many ways, her new life was a lot like the old.
In fact, there were times when she thought of Mr. Sock Monkey so often, and wished she could see him again, that she was afraid something was wrong with her. And if there really was, she didn’t want to know. So she started to pray for guidance. And eventually, she learned the answer to her prayers.
It was right after they got married that Mr. Sock Monkey called to tell her he’d received the teddy bears she’d sent. It was nice of him to mention that he’d even made an extra one for his daughter, but Eileen knew that he would never be able to give up the original ones. After all, they were his best work, the reason he’d been successful for so many years.
And then one day, a year later, Mr. Sock Monkey called Eileen and told her that he was going to visit his son. She was happy for him, but she couldn’t help feeling sad, too. The thought of seeing him again had given her hope, and now it was gone.
But when he told her that he was planning to visit his son in Los Angeles, she made up her mind to go see him for herself. And while he was there, she hoped she’d have a chance to find out if Mr. Sock Monkey’s daughter was still alive, and, if she was, what kind of person she was.
So she packed her bags, took her little sister, and drove the five hundred miles to California. She didn’t really have any plan in place. All she knew was that when she saw Mr. Sock Monkey again, she wanted to tell him how much she’d always loved him. And to find out if his daughter looked anything like he used to.
They stayed at a cheap motel in a sketchy part of town, but Mr. Sock Monkey hadn’t been there long before he invited them to stay with him for a few days. Eileen didn’t mind. The rooms were clean, the bed was comfortable, and it was nice to be able to talk to someone who shared so many of her memories.
It was three months later that they heard the news. It was on the radio and in the papers. A small plane had been flying across the Pacific from Japan to L.A. when the pilot lost consciousness and fell into the ocean. The plane crashed shortly after.
Everyone in Mr. Sock Monkey’s neighborhood was deeply saddened by the loss of the young woman who’d been his daughter, but Eileen could hardly believe it. Even after all these years, Mr. Sock Monkey had never let her know whether she was a boy or a girl.
It took weeks of begging and then pleading, but Mr. Sock Monkey finally relented and told her what his daughter’s name had been. And he even admitted that she was sixteen when they met. She was, in fact, a real person. He’d just been hoping to keep that a secret for as long as he could.
But no amount of pleading could change the fact that Mr. Sock Monkey had died more than half a century ago. And in the end, that was something that Eileen couldn’t live with.
It was early morning. Eileen had just gotten off work, and she was waiting at the bus stop, thinking about Mr. Sock Monkey. She wondered if he’d really loved his daughter, or if he’d only pretended to be in love with her just so she wouldn’t get hurt. After all, it was well known that Mr. Sock Monkey didn’t want to marry Eileen. She was too good for him, he’d said.
He never told her why, and she had no way of knowing, but she was sure that Mr. Sock Monkey had never been able to make up his mind, and that was probably why he’d kept quiet all those years. Because, deep down inside, he knew he wanted to marry her. But because he didn’t really know himself, he couldn’t decide.
Eileen stood at the bus stop, looking up at the sky. It was clear and blue, but there was no sign of the sun. Eileen was wearing a gray sweater with big black buttons. Her hair was short and neat, and she was smiling.
The bus pulled up, but when it stopped, no one got on. The driver gave a sigh of resignation and then started the bus back down the street. Eileen’s face grew serious as she thought about all that she’d lost.
It was getting dark when Eileen arrived home. She opened the door and saw her sister sitting on the sofa, watching television.
“Where were you?” her sister asked.
“At work,” Eileen replied.
Her sister looked up at her. “Did you have any trouble?”
“No. And I got my first paycheck today. They actually put some money in there. Not a lot, but some.”
Eileen laughed. Her sister was so worried about her that it felt good to hear her laugh.
“I’m going to take some out of it to go visit the hospital,” Eileen told her sister.
She’d been thinking about Mr. Sock Monkey all day, wondering what kind of person she would be now if she had grown up with him. It would be nice to meet someone who understood everything, Eileen decided. Someone like her father.
She sat down beside her sister and picked up the remote control. She clicked through the channels until she found something she liked. Her sister watched in silence.
After a while, Eileen turned off the TV and walked upstairs to her bedroom. She put on the same old clothes that she always did, brushed her teeth, and went straight to bed.
Before falling asleep, she remembered Mr. Sock Monkey’s words. He’d said that he’d never let anything hurt her. He was supposed to say that, she thought, but it meant a lot to her just the same.
Just before dawn, Eileen woke up to the sound of someone knocking at the front door. She slipped on a robe and went downstairs.
“Who is it?” she called.
Her sister answered from the sofa. “It’s me,” a man’s voice replied.
She opened the door and saw her sister’s boyfriend standing outside. His face was flushed, and his hands were shaking.
“What is it?” Eileen asked.
He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“How did you know I was here?” he whispered.
“No one can stay in a house without locking the door.”
He took a deep breath and then said: “You’re not real.”
“I told you, no one can see me unless they want to.”
His eyes grew wide, and for a moment Eileen thought he might cry. Then his face grew hard, and he started to walk away.
“Wait!” Eileen called.
But the man didn’t stop. He turned and ran down the street. Eileen heard the sound of his footsteps fade into the distance.
She closed the door and went back upstairs. She sat on the edge of her bed and thought about everything that had happened that day. But most of all, she thought about her father. She missed him terribly. And even though he’d died more than half a century ago, Eileen was sure she would always miss him.
The End