The Christmas Catch

conversation. Think about it Ellen. I’m in Chicago, he’s in Vermont… Just how is that supposed to work?”
    “I used to date a guy in New York.”
    “ Used to being the operative phrase.”
    Ellen folded her arms across her chest. “As a girl who’s got a date tomorrow, I don’t appreciate your pessimism.”
    Christine turned toward her, pleased. “Carlos?”
    “Isn’t he gorgeous,” Ellen asked with a sigh.
    “I guess he’s got a certain appeal,” Christine said noncommittally. “So, where are you two going?”
    “Snowmobiling!”
    “Seriously?”
    “What? It’s not like bungee jumping. Though I’d be up for that too… What do you think? Too much to suggest for a second date?”
    “How long are you planning on staying?”
    “For the rest of the holiday, and you?”
    “Our return flight’s on the twenty-eighth. You know that, you arranged it.”
    “Oh right, right. Sorry. I forgot.” Ellen fiddled with her purse, sneaking out her cell to check for messages. “Do you think Carlos has been married before?”
    “From what I hear, twice.”
    “Third time’s the charm,” Ellen quipped merrily.
    “You two just met!”
    “I know, I know… Don’t take me so seriously. Heavens!” She frowned, tucking away her cell. “So… When are you seeing John again?”
    Christine’s lips took a downward turn as she fought the burn in her heart. “I’m not.”
    Ellen reached out and touched her arm. “What happened?”
    Christine felt a tear escape her and she stealthily stroked it back, hoping Ellen hadn’t seen. “I should never have gotten involved. I knew from the beginning where things would end.”
    “Did John say something to you?” Ellen asked with concern. “When we were leaving, I mean?”
    Christine pressed her lips together steeling her emotions.
    “Have a nice flight,” she said, battling the sting of her tears.
    “Oh Christine, I’m so sorry. I had no idea, hon. Honestly, none. John seemed like such a nice guy. I was hopeful, really hopeful—for the first time in a long while—that you were finally getting your life back.”
    Christine collected herself, wiping her cheeks with her coat sleeve. “My life’s in Chicago,” she said with more resolve than she felt.
    “I know, and mine is too.” Ellen set her jaw, weighing her own insecurities. “I’m not fooling myself with Carlos. The two of us are old enough to know what the score is. That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a little fun while we’ve both got some life left.”
    Christine forced a smile. “Oh Ellen, I’d say you’ve got plenty of life left. Maybe even more than Carlos can handle.”
    Ellen laughed, the tension in the air lightening. “Thanks,” she said. “I try.”

    Later that night, Christine locked herself away in her room, her heart breaking. All night long she’d held it in. Fear started as a gentle roll, cresting the wave of her emotions, the moment John gave her that deer-in-the-headlights look in the kitchen. By the time they were saying good-bye, hope had sunk in the well of silence between them. It wasn’t that they didn’t talk. Discomfort sprung instead from all that went unsaid. There was no discourse on keeping in touch, or John seeing them off to the airport. The holiday had come, then—boom—it was done, just as suddenly as fireworks exploding on the Fourth of July. But here it was Christmas… Christmas… and all its twinkling lights had faded for her, it seemed.
    There’d been a time when the whole world had looked promising. She’d had a handsome young officer on her arm and they’d been expecting their first child. Dan had sworn he’d never leave her, but, due to the cruelty of fate, he had. She’d never believed she’d love again, or even meet another guy who’d catch her eye. Now here she was more painfully aware of being alone than she’d ever been.
    Christine sank to the carpet, her back to the door, arms folded around her knees. “Oh Dan,” she said, doubling forward with her sobs. “I miss you so much.”
    A light rapping came at the door. “Everything okay in there?” It was Ellen from the other side, her voice tinged with worry.
    Christine sucked in a breath, her throat raw. “Yes, Ellen!” she called back. “Just fine. Merry Christmas.”
    Ellen hesitated before replying, concern clear in her voice. “Merry Christmas. Sleep tight.”
    Christine listened to her footsteps fade away, then folded her face in her hands. She’d been acting like a