Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Christmas Confidential - 2. Edith
Edith
By Valkyrie
The bitter wind whistled through the bare branches of the overgrown lilac, causing them to sway and screech against the worn siding like nails on a chalkboard. Gabe shuddered, a combination of chill and involuntary reaction to the offensive noise. He huddled into his black peacoat as he waited. A wind gust blew through his salt and pepper curls, peeking out from the white fuzz of his Santa hat. Despite working this assignment, he wasn’t used to such frigid temperatures.
At least it hadn’t started snowing yet. Although the beauty of freshly-fallen snow was something Gabe never tired of seeing. The wind was a harbinger; there was a nor’easter on the way, which would ultimately shut down the city. He needed to make sure Edith was taken care of first.
Even though he’d rang the doorbell ten minutes prior, he wasn’t worried. Edith was home. He knew it, same as he knew the nor’easter would arrive just in time for afternoon rush hour the next day. He also knew Edith.
She was eighty-five years old and suffered from crippling arthritis. Despite her condition, she still managed to make jam for members of her church and sew quilts for cancer patients at the local hospital. She asked for nothing in return.
Edith never had children, and her husband had passed away thirty years ago. She never remarried, preferring a solitary life. Up until a few years ago, she had regular visitors from what was left of her family. Now they were either too feeble to make the trip or had passed on, like her husband. Edith loved entertaining visitors. She’d put on a pot of tea and serve homemade cookies and cake, along with chocolate candies imported from Poland. The candy reminded her of childhood memories of her homeland. When the arthritis flared up, she’d get boxed sweets out of the pantry instead, apologizing for serving something store-bought.
The boxes of sweets gathered dust now. The ladies from her church visited less frequently than they used to, and the man who picked up the blankets for the hospital never stayed for tea. Consequently, no one noticed the state of the house or Edith herself.
Gabe turned toward the door when he heard the snick of the lock turning. His face glowed as he smiled at the elderly lady who opened the door, a puzzled look on her face.
“Hi, Edith. My name is Gabe and I’m with your local news station. An anonymous Secret Santa sent me to give you an early Christmas gift.”
“Oh my Heavens,” Edith replied. “Are you sure you have the right person?”
Gabe nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Well, come in young man. It’s freezing outside!” She shuffled away from the door.
Gabe stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Edith’s house was tidy and organized, full of shelves of knickknacks and stacks of books and papers; however, it obviously needed a good cleaning.
“Let me put on a kettle for some tea.” She slowly made her way into the kitchen, then filled a kettle with water and put it on the stove to boil. “Have a seat, then we can talk business.” She laughed; a sound delightful to Gabe.
Gabe sat at the red and white enameled table in a small nook towards the back of the kitchen. She joined him several minutes later, after setting out a plateful of boxed cookies.
“The kettle will be done shortly, then we can have some tea with our sweets,” she said. “Now tell me again why you’re here? It’s so seldom I get visitors anymore.”
Gabe smiled warmly and held out a small box wrapped in bright red paper with pictures of dancing Santas on it. “I’m here to bring you a gift.”
Edith frowned. “A gift? For me? Surely this is meant for someone younger. Christmas is for children.”
“Christmas is for everyone,” Gabe replied.
The shrill whistle of the boiling kettle of water pierced through the room. Gabe rose. “Allow me.” He grabbed the kettle and poured each of them a cup of hot water, then set it down on a cozy on the far side of the table. He dunked his tea bag in the water and swirled it around. Edith had the present in her hand, staring at it in wonder.
“This sure brings back memories. That paper… the first gift my husband ever gave me was wrapped in paper like that.”
“What did he give you?”
“Oh it will sound so silly to you, but it meant the world to me.” She smiled, erasing years from her face. “We’d only known each other for a short time, but we knew we were in love. I knew the minute I met him that he was the man I’d marry.” She sighed. “We didn’t have much our first Christmas together. He gave me a candy bracelet. One of those things kids like with the stretchy string and the candy beads you bite right off it. It was a promise… he’d replace it with the real thing when he could afford it.”
She reached for her cup of tea with both gnarled hands and sipped the hot liquid. The sleeves of her housecoat slipped down to her elbows as she drank, exposing her rail-thin arms. Edith received seven meals a week from Meals on Wheels, which wasn’t enough to meet her nutritional needs. Getting to the grocery store happened all too infrequently.
She set the cup down and held up her right hand. A gold bracelet glistened on her wrist. “He made good on that promise the year before he died.” She smiled wistfully.
“Things have been a bit tough for you lately, haven’t they,” Gabe stated quietly.
She nodded. “I’m not as young as I used to be. The arthritis…well, I can’t do as much as I used to.”
“You’ve done a lot for people, with making your famous jams and quilts. You’ve made a difference in many people’s lives.”
“You know about that? Well, I’ve always done my best to try and give back.”
“Well, I would say you’ve succeeded. I’d like to see you open your present.”
She reached for the box. “I have no idea who would do such a thing for me.”
“He’d like to remain anonymous, but please know that someone out there loves you and cares for you,” Gabe replied.
A tear rolled down Edith’s cheek. “Sometimes I feel forgotten.” She pried the lid off the small box and set it on the table. She withdrew a piece of paper and read it.
“Our anonymous benefactor hasn’t forgotten you. That’s a gift certificate for a cleaning service. It’s been pre-paid for a year. They’ll come in once a week to clean your house for you. There’s also gift cards to the local grocery store—enough to buy groceries for a year. They’ll even deliver them to you, free of charge.” He paused, then slid a second box across the table to her. “There’s one more thing.”
“Good heavens! This is already too much!”
Gabe smiled. “Open it. I think you’ll like this one best of all.”
Edith’s hands shook as she removed the shiny top, wrapped in silver paper. She gasped and clutched the piece of paper it contained to her chest. “I don’t know what to say!” Her voice cracked as she spoke.
“Now you’ll have someone to run errands for you and help with any of your daily needs… including having a cup of tea and some homemade cookies.”
“Kowalski’s Companions,” she said softly, reading the name on the paper. “My last name is Kowalski. I kept my husband’s name after he passed.”
“The owner of the company is your husband’s great-niece. She can’t wait to meet you.”
“I didn’t think I had any family left!” Tears rolled freely down Edith’s face. “God bless you, young man.” She reached a hand out to Gabe, who squeezed it gently.
“You are loved. And not forgotten.”
Edith wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and sniffled. When she opened her eyes, Gabe was gone.
- 13
- 26
- 6
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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