Regifted by Declan Rhodes

Author:Declan Rhodes [Rhodes, Declan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-18T16:00:00+00:00

10

Desmond

For the past three years in a row, I satisfied myself with bare-bones holiday decorating in my apartment. I had a small three-foot-tall artificial Christmas tree that I placed on the mantle of my fireplace, and I strung garland below. Other than a few other little trinkets, that was the limit of the festive nature of my home.

The prospect that I might have a reason to invite a man like Vincent into my home during the Christmas season nearly sent me into a panic. David Underwood called from the community center to confirm that my date with Vincent was full steam ahead. When I glanced at my personal calendar, I noticed that our first date would take place just two nights before the Nutcracker performance. I smiled and crossed my fingers as I tucked the phone back into my pocket.

To prioritize my holiday decorating efforts, I canceled a meeting with a fellow faculty member about a collaborative research project. Instead, I rushed to a local home decor shop desperate for holiday gleam and glitter.

The store was full of pretty things, but most of it was far too precious for my taste. I turned my nose up at intricate yarn-woven ornaments and tiny faceless children linking arms around a Christmas tree. Finally, I discovered a small corner of the shop with all things clean, sleek, silver and gold. I returned to the front of the store to retrieve one of the in-house shopping baskets.

After I finished loading up the basket with goodies for an apartment that would make the editors of Architectural Digest proud, I struggled to the checkout with my intended purchases. I held the basket close to my body to avoid dropping anything and balanced three boxes in my opposite hand.

A slightly older woman waiting in line glanced at me and gasped, “Oh, young man, let me move out of your way. It’s so exciting to see a member of the younger generation excited about Christmas.”

Although I’m not Scrooge by any stretch of the imagination, I would hesitate to call myself the embodiment of the spirit of Christmas either. I had little room in my life for the commercial frenzy that swirled around the Santa Claus legend, but I loved twinkly lights and golden stars.

After closing the transaction with the customer directly ahead of me, the shop clerk spread all of my purchases out on the counter before ringing them up. She looked at me and then perused my collection of decorative items. “Oh, my, what a beautiful selection. Did somebody send you with a list?”

I swallowed hard and tamped down a stammer before I replied with a challenge. “No, I selected these all on my own. Were you trying to imply something?”

I stared at the clerk daring her to make another inappropriate remark. “Why, no, I mean…uh, well, it’s just usually…Happy Holidays, Sir!”

The older woman behind me whispered in my ear, “I wish you were my boy. Harold doesn’t have a decorative bone in his body. If it were up to him, the Christmas tree would hold nothing but a mug of beer and a cocktail shaker.

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