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A Piece of Christmas Chocolate

by Kelvin Bueckert
12/20/2015 / Short Stories

A printer chattered in the corner of the room as it spewed out reports and flow charts.
What better way to celebrate the holidays?
Kathy drummed her fingers on the expensive black desk that she called her own.
Year-end was always the time when she was forced to justify the income she earned. This year was no different. If anything, it was a little worse since Candace had left.
Candace was always talking about the gift of love. In fact, she had the audacity to compare every act of love to a chocolate in God's gift box to humanity.
"Humbug." Kathy muttered under her breath as she slid into her winter jacket.
These metaphors seemed to be more a product of Candace's overactive imagination than of reality.
Marriage, who needed it? Kathy had managed quite well until Candace had decided to get married and head out on her honeymoon.
Now the big question was, how would all the work get done before New Year's day?
New Years Day was the deadline that the boss had set.
Why?
Who knew.
Whatever the reason was, it was why she needed to be at work on Boxing Day.
Kathy tore the final report from the printer, ripping an edge and ruining its professional appearance.
Should she take the time to print out another copy?
She glared at the evil machine for a moment as she considered this dilemma. Finally she seized her briefcase and marched out of the gilded cage that her office had become.
She was happy that she had been able to attend Jason and Candice's wedding on Christmas Eve, however, she was even more happy that it wasn't her that was getting married.
A woman needed a man like a fish needed a bicycle.
It was a fishy anaology but Kathy had adopted it as a life rule.
The day she went on a date would be the day God told a sea gull to stay up north in winter.
"Humbug." She muttered again as she reviewed the torn report. The boss would have to be happy with what she handed in or he would have to find another accountant.
She arrived at the elevator.
Her arthritic finger pressed the down button.
Arthritis had infested her fingers ever since she was young. Over the years, she had learned to live with it, but it was a burden.
One among many...too many.
Sometimes it felt like God had forgotten where she lived.
The elevator doors swung open.
She entered the inner sanctum.
Soon she was on her way down.
She seized the opportunity to review the report again. It really was only a small tear. The boss would understand.
Thank God he wasn't as sour as the last one.
The elevator doors slid open again.
Kathy continued to read as she walked across the room. On ordinary days, the reflective beauty of the floor would occupy her mind, but now Kathy was intent on catching her ride. So intent was she that she failed to notice the person stepping into her path until it was too late.
She stumbled as she made contact, dropping the briefcase. It made a thud as it landed, a thud followed quickly by a pop as the poorly fastened case fell open, spilling its contents over the slick linoleum.
"Humbug," she muttered again as she knelt to gather the wayward papers.
Sometimes she wished that God didn't take so many opportunities to teach her patience.
Like a vision of Christmas present her face appeared in the reflective linoleum. The lines around her tired blue eyes reflected her age of fifty years old. Her brown hair bore streaks of gray, badges of honor earned honestly through years of hard work. However, most people would say she was a beautiful woman.
If only she could get out of the plain grey dress that was the required uniform for her job.
Another reflection appeared on the floor beside her, a man's face. "Allow me to assist you," came a deep voice as a black suited figure knelt beside her and began to gather papers.
"I'm fine really," Kathy protested. "Just a few minutes and I'll have it all cleaned up. It's my fault really."
"I insist. I should've been watching where I was walking. My mind was on something else...and you know us men, we can only do one thing well at a time. " His smile was warm as he said this, disconcertingly warm.
"Well thank you, it was my fault really, but," her eyes flickered toward the large window. Through it, Kathy could see her ride, a shiny black Jetta, pulling away from the sidewalk.
"Humbug," she muttered again.
Her benefactor followed her gaze. "Miss your ride?"
"Yes, I suppose," she answered reluctantly, angry at herself for delaying her departure until the last moment.
Her boss had offered her a ride home but he was perversely punctual. Five o clock meant five o clock.
"I can give you a ride if you like," he offered, holding the last of the papers out to her.
"No, I couldn't, I wouldn't want to impose." Kathy took the papers and then shoved them into her case without looking at them. At this point she just wanted to get out of this building and away from this man.
They stood and faced each other.
"Nonsense, I'm sure it's on my way." He held out his hand. "I'm Peter Granich; I work as a loan manager for the local Credit Union. I don't recall ever meeting you before."
"I'm sure we haven't. I'm Kathy Elias."
She began walking briskly. Determined to keep this strictly a business matter. He matched her pace without any trouble.
"Kathy? I've always liked that name. What is your work here? If you don't mind me asking."
They passed through the revolving glass doors into the warm sunshine of a cold winter afternoon.
"I'm the head accountant for Dobson and Hull."
Peter halted on the sidewalk, his hand on the door of the black Cadillac before them.
"Dobson and Hull? Dobson and Hull! Why would you need to beg a ride with their salary?" He coughed. Obviously embarrassed at his outburst. "Forgive me Kathy, it was a foolish question and I have a busy mouth that likes foolish questions. I shouldn't have said that."
Kathy smirked. She let him fidget for a moment and then began to speak in a formal tone. "It is a valid question and I don't mind answering it. It's about the environment; I don't need a car, so I don't have one! Silly of me I know, but it is something I believe in."
"Then I suppose you think I'm an environmental hazard because I drive this beast?" Peter gestured toward the fancy black Cadillac SUV before them.
Kathy shrugged her slim shoulders. "No, I have nothing against other people who do what they believe. I just know what I believe and I do it. Simple as that."
Peter pulled open the door of vehicle. "Very well, I admire your honesty," he said, and then hesitated. "Are you still willing to ride with me under the circumstances?"
"Yes, I am. Although, don't expect me to make a habit of it."
Kathy said as she slid into the back seat.
"No I suppose you wouldn't. I'll need your home address to get you home though." Peter said as he slid beside her.
Kathy breathed in. The vehicle smelled like...was that cinnamon? Yes, it smelled like cinnamon. That struck her as odd, but she shoved it from her mind.
"Two Twelve Vermillion Bay, it's in Koko Platz," Kathy offered in reply, taking in the absence of jewelry on his ring finger with absentminded interest. She chided herself for the foolishness of the effort.
Peter slammed the door shut. "You heard the address...so whenever you're ready, we can go."
"Yes boss." The driver replied.
"And take your time," Peter said as he slid the window dividing the back seat from the front shut.
"You interest me."
Kathy pressed her lips together but said nothing.
There was a sudden jolt and then they were on their way into the heart of the city and all the traffic that went with it.
"Tell me, why does Dobson and Hull need to have an accountant working on Boxing Day?"
"Why does a humble loan manager for a Credit Union have a chauffeured Cadillac?"
Peter grimaced. "Sorry, we got off to a bad start, didn't we? The driver is my brother Steve, he's a recovering alchoholic. He can't get a job, so I let him drive me around. It is better than doing nothing. The SUV is mine, I paid for it myself and I'm not ashamed of it. Now, let's start this again...Kathy Elias...A nice name...You know, my grandmother was named Kathy."
"Yes, I happen to enjoy the name myself. I use it all the time. "
"I don't doubt it. What would you say if I invited you for supper sometime?"
A sudden flapping motion caught Kathy's eye. She glanced up at the white and black specked sea gull flying above the car.
Kathy's mind stammered a moment.
"Of course," she heard herself saying. Why make a scene about this, she thought to herself, after all he hadn't proposed marriage, just a friendly supper. They'd talk business and get to know each other, that was all.
"I'm glad you said that," Peter replied as a toothy smile graced his handsome face. "I think we'll find much to talk about. Presumptuous of me I know, but..."
"But nothing...we're just friends. We're old enough to get together for supper without a lot of drama, aren't we?"
He chuckled and mischief danced in his eyes. "I guess that remains to be seen, doesn't it?"
The couple collapsed into gentle laughter as the stress of the day drained away.
Was Peter a chocolate in God's gift box to humanity? This thought, small and fragile, germinated in the back of Kathy's mind as the Cadillac continued forward into the snow packed streets of the city.
Overhead the seagull flapped violently, climbing ever higher toward the sea of grey clouds and the sun behind them.

(c)2015 Kelvin Bueckert. www.kelvinbueckert.com Kelvin is a freelance author who lives on the plains of Manitoba, Canada. His newest book is, A Priceless Christmas and other Stories...
Contact Kelvin at: [email protected]

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