Anthony Simmons trudged through the snow, glancing up on occasion to glare at the Christmas decorations that surrounded him. The blow-up Santas and Rudolphs mocked him with their smiling faces, representing a superficial happiness that he couldn’t bring himself to possess. Everything but him seemed so cheerful and joyous, lit up like the rainbow of Christmas lights that illuminated the street. Elise had been the brightest light, the glowing cherubim atop the tree-but that was gone now. All he had left was a lump of stone for a heart and a bucketful of bittersweet memories.
Everything around him seemed so cold-the snow, the frosty air, the memory of Elise. He glanced down at his chapped hands as he clutched his jacket closed from the biting wind. The knuckles were cracked and red, but the rest of his long, slender hands were as pale as death. The dirt caked under his cracked fingernails sent a sharp pain through his heart, reminding him of Elise and how the one thing she insisted on was clean hands. She wouldn’t let him touch her or kiss her until he had thoroughly scrubbed his hands to the tune of “Yankee Doodle” under her supervision. Satisfied, she would pull him into an embrace and a kiss, leaving his mouth tingling with the warmth of her lips.
The rest of him had fallen into disarray. His clothing was disheveled and his once clean-shaven face was rough and scraggly. His thin lips stretched across his teeth in a permanent frown as if a rubber band was holding them taut. His dirty blonde hair was strewn about his head as if he had just gotten out of bed that morning. But the most changed was his eyes. Those once-content, gray-blue pools had a hunted look to them, like he had searched long for something but never found it.
He involuntarily shivered. Snowflakes had gathered on his eyelashes unnoticed. Swiping them off, he finally reached the outskirts of town. Veering left, he trudged toward the graveyard. He stumbled like a drunken man through the rows of stone sentinels until he reached her grave. Removing his cap, he clunked down on one knee, then the other.
Tears slipped down his frozen cheeks as he gazed at the marker:
Elise Marie Simmons
Beloved Wife of Anthony Simmons
Sunshine on a Cloudy Day
Born June 23, 1978
Died December 23, 2001
Underneath the inscription, in smaller letters read:
Rose Therese Simmons
Daughter of Anthony and Elise
Short-lived but Long-loved
Born May 16, 2001
Died December 23, 2001
“Elise-Rose,” he murmured, absentmindedly reaching out to stroke the cold, gray stone. His fingers gently traced the inscriptions of Elise and Rose’s names as he lost himself in memories, heedless of the soft, white carpet that was forming around him.
He remembered the night before Elise and Rose had been killed. Scraps of reindeer wrapping paper were littered around the Christmas tree as Elise excitedly put the finishing touches on Rose’s new toy piano, complete with farm animal sounds and keys that lit up when they were touched.
Scooting the present under the tree, Elise crawled over and nestled into Anthony’s lap. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting her fingers run through his hair. Sighing happily, he gently massaged her back as she snuggled even closer to him.
Elise glanced up at the present. “You know,” she said, “I suppose we shouldn’t put that under the tree just yet. After all, Santa comes on Christmas Eve, not December 22. Besides, Rose is strangely like her daddy in how she is attracted to bright, obnoxious wrapping paper.” She tickled him under the chin and continued, “And I am never, ever letting you pick out the wrapping paper again. Ever! What will everyone think of it? It’s just…oh, never mind. I guess Target’s elves were a bit dysfunctional the day they invented this wrapping paper.”
“It was on sale,” he groaned. He looked slyly at her. “As if you could do any better.”
“Are you insulting my fashion sense?” she retorted, pouting. “Men!”
He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “No, Elise. Just fighting fire with fire.” He glanced up the stairs and sighed. “I probably need to go check on Rose.”
Suddenly, Elise scrambled out of Anthony’s lap and scampered to the window. “Look!” she pointed excitedly. “It’s snowing! Rose has never seen snow before! Oh, Tony, let’s wake her up and let her see her first snow!”
Anthony grinned at her child-like joy. “Of course. I’ll get the video camera and our coats. You get Rose. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
When he came back into the living room, a sleepy-eyed rose and a bright-eyed Elise greeted him.
“There you are Tony! I thought you’d never come.” Elise glanced out the window again. “It’s late and I don’t want to keep Rose out too long. I just want her to see her first snow.” She smiled down at Rose and gently tickled her as Anthony stepped around them to open the door.
“After you, my little women,” he teased.
“Why thank you, kind sir,” Elise replied, putting on a mock air of haughtiness. She marched out into the glittering night but stopped as soon as she stepped onto the porch.
“Anthony!” she gasped. “It’s like a winter wonderland!”
The snow sparkled like a thousand glittering diamonds. Multicolored Christmas lights danced on the snow, creating a patchwork of brilliance. Laden with snow, pine trees stood like sentinels watching over the yards.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Like a winter wonderland.”
They stood there silently for a few minutes, taking in the glorious night. Suddenly, Elise remarked, “Poor Rose will freeze to death if we don’t get moving. Turn on the camera, Tony.”
Anthony switched on the video camera and watched Elise brush the snow off the step with her hand. Carefully, sitting down, she cuddled Rose in her arms to keep her warm. She picked up a handful of snow and showed it to Rose, who felt it and let out of cry of surprise at its coldness. Turning towards Anthony, Elise pressed Rose’s face to her own, clasped her hand, and held it up. “Say hi to Daddy,” she cooed, waving Rose’s tiny hand at Anthony. Rose gurgled happily and broke into a toothless grin.
Anthony gazed in silent contentment as Elise and Rose played around in the snow a little more. Finally, with a big yawn, Elise got up and stretched. Anthony switched off the video camera, and putting his arm around Elise’s shoulder, he gently guided her inside.
Just before he shut the door, Elise gazed one last time out at the star-lit night. “If this was my last night on earth,” she murmured, ‘this is how I would want to spend it.” She smiled and looked up into Anthony’s eyes. “Thank you.”
. DD has been pestering me to post it, so I did. I personally don't think it's that great (compared to all the other superior writers on here), especially the dialogue, but I'm rather attached to the story. If anyone could especially crit on the dialogue, that would be great. I want to make sure that that is strong.
