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From: "Jim C" <jimc_author@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Lucky Stiff by JiMC (08 of 46)--MF, FF, mc, md, magic, romance
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Date: Sun, 18 Sep 2005 18:10:02 -0400
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This story is copyright (c) 2003-2005.  All rights are
reserved by the author, including that of publication.
Posting on-line is only allowed when permission is explicitly
granted by the author, and then only for the complete story,
including this disclaimer.  Contact the author at
<jimc-author at excite dot com> for more information,
referring to this story ("Lucky Tickets 2: Lucky Stiff").

I explicitly grant permission to post this story to
StoriesOnline.net and asstr-mirror.org.

The following is a work of fiction and is just a fantasy.
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental and entirely unintentional.  There may be
references to people in a historical context, but they are
not really characters in this story.

This is a story that describes sexually explicit situations
in a fictional universe that only vaguely seems similar to
the one we live in.  Most of the characters in this story are
under aged.  However, the target audience is adults (people
over the age of eighteen) with broad minds.

* * *

This is a sequel to the story "Lucky Tickets," and as such,
you may want to read that story first to get a better
introduction to the characters present in both stories.  Like
a lot of sequels, it's not really meant to be read out of
order.

* * *

Chapter 8--Thanksgiving and Christmas

        I've grown a little leaner,
        Grown a little colder,
        Grown a little sadder,
        Grown a little older.
        And I need a little angel
        Sitting on my shoulder,
        I need a little Christmas now.
                -- We Need A Little Christmas (Mame Soundtrack)


    On Saturday, Kristen had an appointment to get her hair
done at a salon nearby, leaving Will and me alone.  Will took
me to the campus at M.I.T. From out of nowhere, Will asked
me, "Do you know you have a strange aura?"

    The question made me laugh, seeing as how we were walking
at one of the leading intellectual campuses in the country.
"I do?"

    Will didn't seem to mind me laughing.  "I've seen your
particular aura before, a few years ago, and it scared the
shit out of me.  Somehow, it's different now."

    "I don't think we met a few years ago," I pointed out.

    "You're right."

    Will then told me about his real mother.  She lived in
New York City, and gave him up for adoption a week after he
was born.  She died just another week later, the victim of an
automobile accident.

    Will explained, "I've always felt that a part of Katie,
my real mother, lives on inside me."

    "That's a beautiful thought, Will."

    Will shrugged.  "It might not be profound, but I really
feel it.  Sometimes, I can almost hear her giving me advice.
Of course, it could very well be wishful thinking.  I'm glad
that my family adopted me; I don't think I would have wanted
to be an orphan in New York.  My adopted family is truly
wonderful.  Having Katie a part of me is just like having a
second mother around whenever I need her."

    I thought about living with my real father and shuddered.

    Will noticed my reaction.  "Kristen said that your mother
remarried."

    I nodded.

    "Your father was an alcoholic."

    My head turned toward Will.  I never told that to
Kristen.  I knew that my mother didn't talk much about my
real father much either.  "What makes you say that?"

    Will shrugged.  "That was just a hunch."

    Staring at Will, I said, quietly, "That's the second lie
you've told me since I've been here."

    We stopped walking, and intently looked at one another.
Finally, Will nodded.  "Yes.  I have lied to you twice."

    "I know the reason for the first lie."

    Will changed the subject.  "You don't believe in auras,
Jim."

    I answered truthfully.  "I used to think things such as
E.S.P. and all that were just foolishness.  Nowadays, I don't
know what I believe anymore."

    Will smiled.  "That's a start."

    Will told me everything he knew of his real mother.
Nobody ever told him anything, it seemed as if he always
knew.  She was a fortuneteller in Greenwich Village.  She
would tell fortunes simply by analyzing a person's aura and
interpolating how that person would react in a given
situation.

    Will added, "As I said, Jim, this may all be wishful
thinking.  It may be that every adopted person has some
wonderful dreams about their real parents, but to me, Katie
isn't a fairy tale.  She was a fortune teller and part-time
prostitute."

    I didn't have anything to say about this.

    "You believe in magic," Will pointed out.

    "I might," I agreed.

    "That's the aura I see around you: magic.  I saw it once
before, and my instinct was to run from it.  The person with
the magic was not a good person."

    I shrugged.

    "You are different," Will said.  "I see in both Kristen's
aura and yours that the two of you are truly in love with one
another.  Her aura has changed significantly since I saw her
this past summer, and it's definitely due to your influence.
I'm really happy that Kris has found true love."

    We ended up once again on Massachusetts Avenue, and found
Kristen a little while later.  We ate lunch at a small
Cambodian restaurant.  I found that I was falling in love
with most ethnic cuisines; Cambodian consisted of a lot of
grilled foods.

    Will told me that there was another city north of Boston
called Lowell with a large Cambodian population.  Lowell was
the birthplace of the beat poet Jack Kerouac.  I made a
mental note to add Lowell as a potential destination for a
future visit; I didn't think there would be many Cambodian
restaurants in my hometown.

    After lunch, Will left Kristen and me at the "T" station,
and the two of us took the subway system into Boston to the
Boston Common.  Our hotel, the lavish Ritz-Carlton hotel, was
a short walk away and it was as opulent as its name suggests.
We were given a suite that overlooked the public gardens.

    The suite also sported a lovely bathtub that Kristen
insisted on using.  It was the first time I saw Kristen take
a bath since my birthday, as we usually loved taking showers
together.  On this day, Kristen helped me rediscover the
lovely joys of sharing a luxurious bath with the one you
loved.  The bathtub was smaller than the one in Chicago,
which made the experience even more intimate.

    A concierge brought up our luggage (Will dropped it off
earlier in the day), and after we cleaned each other in the
tub extremely thoroughly, we put on robes and went to the
queen sized bed.

    We invented a new sex game in that room, which we called
"Fifteen Minutes." The rules were simple, each player was
given fifteen minutes to fondle, caress, lick, or even fuck
the other one, who could not return the favor until the time
was up and the other player took his or her own fifteen
minutes.  The game would continue until both players were
thoroughly satiated.

    I let Kristen start, and she got into a sixty-nine
position on top of me.  She took my penis into my mouth and
swallowed me deeply.  Although her crotch was inches from my
face, according to the rules of the game, I couldn't lick
her.  I could see the glistening of her juices forming
between her legs, and I could smell the heady aroma of her
musk.

    I decided to return Kristen's torture in spades when her
fifteen minutes were up.  I told Kristen to lay down on her
back.  I knelt next to her on her left, and with my left
hand, I started to finger her crotch.  With my right hand, I
started to quickly masturbate myself.  Looking at Kristen's
body writhing from the assault of my left fingers soon coaxed
my balls to churning intensity in about five minutes.  Sure
enough, I felt the contractions and pumped my seed onto
Kristen's stomach and tits.

    This was also a relatively new experience for me; I
rarely masturbated in front of Kristen.  However, I wanted to
achieve orgasm, and this was the easiest way for me.

    Kristen was a bit surprised to feel the warm jets of my
sperm hit her body.  Almost reflexively, she moved her hand
to capture the essence to which she was addicted, but I took
her hand and slapped it, reminding her of the rules.

    Instead, I found a small puddle on the breast closest to
me, and licked at it, capturing it onto my tongue.  I then
bent down and kissed Kristen, depositing the bit of sperm
onto her tongue.

    My lovely Goddess realized I didn't have any desire to
deny her a taste of my semen, and she smiled in appreciation.
I found the process of scooping up the semen to be
surprisingly difficult.  I used more or less the same
technique that Kristen used when cleaning up a similar mess
on my body, and kept kissing Kristen afterward.

    After Kristen was clean, she informed me that I took two
fifteen minute periods.

    "Damn!" I said in mock indignation.

    "I have a better idea, Jim.  Let's fuck!"

    We made love, face to face with me on top.  Kristen's
body was still a bit sticky from the mess I made earlier, but
I didn't care.  There was a wonderful tub to clean us up
again afterward, if necessary.

    After we made love, Kristen took me once again in her
mouth, cleaning my shaft of our combined secretions.

* * *

    It was late afternoon when the two of us walked to the
Common.  I talked to Kristen about what Will told me earlier.

    "Will's always been into the occult," Kristen said.

    "Maybe," I said.  "But some of the things that he says
seem to correspond to things that I have been thinking about."

    "Do you believe in his auras?" Kristen asked.

    I answered, "Will seems to think of them as colors.  He
told me that his mother Katie would tell him about them, but
he never really saw them until March 1970.  The image of the
solar eclipse that year was the missing link for him.  You
know how the corona seems to shoot out from behind the moon,
which is blocking out most of the sun?"

    Kristen nodded.

    "That was the image he needed in order for what Katie
told him to start making sense to him.  He was looking at the
people, when he discovered that he should have been looking
at what was being radiated out from the people."

    Kristen looked at me.  "Will never told me that."

    "He knows that I believe in magic.  He says that my aura
shows magic in me."

    "Do you think he means the tickets?  I have found that I
can never talk about them with him, and I sometimes get
frustrated."

    I shrugged.  "I don't know.  What else could it mean?"

    From the Common, we walked around the city near the hotel
until dinnertime, where we found a small restaurant and ate a
simple meal of hamburgers and French fries.  Later on, we
explored a bit more before returning to the hotel.

    Kristen enjoyed watching me masturbate earlier, and she
asked for a repeat performance with the exception that my aim
be for her open mouth; Kristen didn't want to have to get my
semen "second hand" as she put it.

    Later on, I would think of Kristen's comment as being
weird.  The big argument we had last Autumn was over her
tasting my semen second hand--from the crotch of another girl!

    I felt a bit awkward performing this time, being able to
see Kristen watching me.  After a few moments, I saw Kristen
start touching herself through her lingerie, which got me
more in the mood.  Kristen knew how excited I got seeing her
clad in her naughty bras and panties.

    When I reached my peak, Kristen noticed and she sprawled
out on the bed, her mouth open in expectation.  I moved as
close as I could, and my aim was true.  Just about every
spurt landed on her tongue or her teeth; one errant spurt hit
her lips, but a quick swipe of her tongue removed all
evidence of the missed shot.

* * *

    Will met us for breakfast the next morning, and I told
Kristen that the two of them should go without me.  I didn't
feel like eating breakfast, and wanted the two of them to
have some more time alone together.  Kristen kissed me warmly
before she left.

    The two of them arrived about an hour and a half later,
and Will accompanied us via the "T" to Logan Airport.

    Once again, we found our flight delayed, and the airport
was packed.  Kristen and I got into the First Class passenger
check-in line, and we made it through the throngs to our gate.

    Will offered us a drink at a lounge, and both Kristen and
I went in, although we only consumed soft drinks.  I was now
a seasoned traveler and a member of the Mile High Club.  I
knew that I didn't need the liquid courage this time.  The
three of us chatted, and made plans to visit again for
another stay near Easter, when our school was on vacation.

    When we heard our flight announced, Will said good-bye.
He gave Kristen a big hug and a kiss, and then offered me his
hand.  Instead, I surprised both him and his sister by
opening my arms and pulling him into a tight hug as well.

    "I'll miss you, Will," I said.

    Will smiled, although I could see the sparkles of tears
in his eyes.  "Me, too.  Take care of my kid sister."

    "I will make it my life's endeavor."

    Will and Kristen smiled at my response.

    "Will?" I asked.

    "Yes?"

    "I wish that you find the perfect person that will make
your life complete."

    Both Will and Kristen looked at me strangely, and I
finally jarred Kristen enough to get into the jet way with
our first class tickets.

    Kristen and I were a bit tired from our trip, and we
decided to spend most of the time on the jet snuggling
against each other.

    I overheard a flight attendant--a different one than on
the last flight--mention our row number and the words "five
bucks" and I smiled.  This was probably a bet that she'd
lose.  I'd already earned my wings.

    When we arrived back in Chicago, Kristen pulled out an
envelope and gave it to the flight attendant before we
landed.  I saw her open the envelope and watched her blush.
Kristen told me that she also overheard the bet, and left a
note of apology and five dollars to cover her bet.

    On the way out of the plane, the flight attendant tried
to give the money back to Kristen but my Goddess wouldn't
accept it.

* * *

    November merged into December as Christmas season came
upon us.  I didn't have a lot of money of my own to spend, as
I spent most of the money I had on souvenirs and gifts in
Boston.  In addition, there were a lot more people this year
on my Christmas list.

    I earned some spare cash at a nearby grocery store,
helping people bring packages to their cars.  I also started
earning my allowance again by helping out around the house,
eating into the sudden windfall that Merry was reaping while
I was spending all my time with my blonde Goddess.

    Of course, this new work ate into the amount of quality
time that I could spend with Kristen, but I explained things
to her.  Although Kristen told me repeatedly that she didn't
have any problems giving me any money I wanted, I knew that
she understood that it meant more if I was spending my own
money.

    Luckily, I didn't have to spend very much.

    Deciding on a gift for my step-father was the easiest.  I
found an exact duplicate of the tackle box that I remembered
him checking out repeatedly at the flea market in the local
sporting goods store.  Since it wasn't fishing season any
longer, the tackle box was on sale; I got a hefty discount
that almost rivaled what the vendor at the flea market wanted
for the used one.

    For my mother, I selected some old photographs from her
photo albums.  Some of the pictures were from when she was a
child; some were from the good times of her first marriage;
and some were more recent.  I picked out my favorites,
marking the locations in the albums so I could replace them
properly, and then went to a camera shop to have my favorites
reprinted at various sizes, and then enlisted Patty's
artistic help in setting up a montage of all those
photographs.  The result was a loving look at my mother's
life that I hoped that she would enjoy.

    I found out from Toby McConnell--the trumpeter that
caught Patty's fancy--that he was pretty skilled with
woodwork, and we spent a Saturday in his basement at his
father's workbench fashioning a wooden heart from a four inch
two by four wood "discard." We cut it with a coping saw and
then sanded it down, and used some Minwax to dye it a medium
brown.  A few days after the dye was dry, we then engraved it
with a wood-burning tool.  Over the next week, I would stop
over and we would give it a new coat of shellac after the
current one dried.  The result was a shiny wooden heart for
Merry that said "My Favorite Shortcake" on it.

    Kristen and I did some mail order shopping for presents
for Patty, Camille, and Wendy.  I insisted on paying, but I
soon found that my tastes in lingerie were expensive, most
likely due to Kristen's influence and her occasional modeling
them for me.  Kristen helped me find deals that were more
reasonable and used her status as a "frequent customer" to
eek out a few more percentage points in deals.  When the
items arrived, I wrapped up the three scandalous lingerie
sets for the girls as a reminder of the day that we met.
Inside each present was a handwritten note, "To one of my
favorite lingerie store customers."

    I knew that Patrice was fond of small dogs, so I
purchased her a cute little stuffed one.  Kristen helped me
pick out an appropriate one.  In addition, I got four new
"Olympic" Frisbees of varying weights for her brother, Jack.

    I arranged a special present for Toby.  Of all the people
in the jazz band with the possible exception of Amy, Toby
seemed to work the hardest.  He didn't have the natural
talent that some of the other members had.  In addition, he
was willing to help me out in just about any way that I
asked, doing some construction work for props for our jazz
concert as well as helping me out with Merry's heart.  I
owned a couple of trumpets, and, after explaining to my
mother, I decided to give my special silver one to him as a
gift.

    Another special present was for Amy.  I took the original
piano score that I copied for Amy and gave it to Kristen, who
knew what my plan was.  She wrapped it and made it a present
to the piano player from the two of us.

    For Sherry, I purchased a silver charm bracelet, and
bought her two charms: a silver pair of pompoms and a silver
megaphone.

    I was mostly out of money by the time I decided on a
present for Kristen.  After all, what do you get for the girl
that could have whatever she wanted?  I talked it over with
my parents, and they loaned me some money in order to have
the manuscript that I used for the "Hooked on a Feeling"
session earlier that year professionally bound.  Patty helped
me letter the first page, featuring a giant fishhook.  Two
sterling silver necklaces, each with a two-inch fishhook made
of sterling silver, accompanied this.  The custom silver work
required me to do a lot of running around to be able to get
the job done before the holiday.

    Before the Christmas concert, Kristen and I found Amy and
gave her our present of the sheet music.  She looked at it,
and then dug through her concert music at the piano and found
the copy that I made.  That song wasn't on the schedule, and
I was surprised and a bit pleased that Amy brought it with
her.  Amy looked between the original and the copy that I
made for a couple of minutes and finally said, "Thank you.  I
love them both!"

    As the rest of the band started to gather, I presented
Toby his trumpet.  A round of applause from all of the band
members accompanied my presentation, since every one knew how
hard Toby worked at his craft.  At first, he didn't want to
take it, but we all insisted.  To top it off, I presented
Toby with a dozen sets of earplugs, "So your parents won't
mind it when you are practicing." Good-natured laughter and
applause accompanied my announcement.

    Toby used my trumpet at the concert, and his performance
was nearly flawless.  I couldn't have been any prouder of how
he sounded if I played his parts myself.  Amy's piano work
was markedly improved from her inauspicious start, thanks to
her diligent work on the score I wrote for her, and to
Kristen's talented help.  She even played a small, eight bar
solo during the improv number.

    At the end of our performance, we all received a long
round of applause, and I startled everybody when I made an
unannounced modification to our program.  I signaled the
letter "L" with my hands to Sam, my bass player, and Derek,
who played the drum kit.  I then wiggled my fingers at Amy,
who looked at me confused.  I then mouthed the title of the
song to her, and she looked at me as if I was certifiably
bonkers.

    I ignored Amy's response, and announced to the audience
that there was a special encore.  I then signaled to Amy.
She looked at me nervously for a second, but she started the
bass line when I signaled her with the baton.  Sam and Derek
picked up the song "_Linus and Lucy_" without missing a beat,
either.  The three of them practiced this song as a trio a
lot during October and November, mostly as an exercise to
help Amy learn the jazz riffs.  Now, without any warning, I
was having the three of them play it in public.

    The three played admirably.  I looked offstage to where
my music teacher was standing.  He was open-mouthed in his
surprise at my featuring Amy in this way, and that she was
performing flawlessly.

    The encore brought another long round of applause, shared
by the entire band that stood up to cheer the trio.  I went
back to where Amy was sitting and took her by the hand to
stand up.  The applause continued as I told her to take her
bow.  She really deserved it.  I felt great as I left the
stage.

    Kristen met me backstage afterward.  She was the only
person that knew that I planned to have Amy perform that
encore, and she hadn't let Amy know.

    Amy found the two of us backstage, and approached us.
She looked at both of us and said, "Thank you." Kristen moved
over and hugged Amy tightly.  I avoided doing the same to
Amy, knowing her shyness.  I was surprised when Amy looked at
me and threw her arms around me in a brief hug.  "Thank you
so much," she said.  "I'll keep both copies of that song with
me forever."

    I was about to leave with Kristen when Mr. Proilet found
me.  "If I didn't see Amy playing that song, I never would
have believed it, Jim."

    I shrugged.  "It wasn't me, so much.  I just figured that
the song was one she'd know and would be a good introduction
to the rhythm."

    "You're showing a remarkable talent for somebody your
age, Jim," my teacher said.

    "No, Mr. Proilet," I protested.  "Amy did all the hard
work." I gestured toward Kristen, next to me.  "Kristen
helped her as well; the two of them are close friends and
Kristen is surprisingly good on the keyboard as well.  I
can't take any credit, really."

    My teacher shook his head, and handed me a wrapped tube.
I looked at him curiously, and he said, "Open it!"

    I did.  Inside was a beautiful conductor's baton.

    "Jim, I have seen a lot of conductors take credit when a
performance is great, when it was the orchestra that he was
directing that was doing great in spite of the conductor.
You are the real thing.  Maybe one or two of those students
would have played as well without you, but nobody else,
including myself, could have pulled off what you did tonight.
I had faith in you, which is why I made you people the last
set of the evening.  It would have been anticlimactic for any
of the other students to have followed you."

    I watched as Mr. Proilet walked away, too stunned to
respond.

    I looked at Kristen, trying to protest that Mr. Proilet
was wrong.  She anticipated this, and simply reached up and
gave me a kiss that lasted a minute or so.

    When the kiss ended, there was a polite smattering of
applause.  All my jazz band students were there, and started
to pull the two of us back on stage.

    I felt overwhelmed with emotion, and didn't fully
understand what was going on.  I let the rest of the band
drag me back on-stage, and saw that the house lights were now
on.  Most of the audience was still there, and almost
everybody in the audience was holding up mimeographed sheets
of paper on which one word was written: "OOGIE!"

    I started hearing the students in the audience chant that
name.  I looked at Kristen and I could see in her eyes that
she knew about this, and might even have been one of the
architects.  I gave her a quick kiss and finally accepted the
applause from the audience with a small bow.

    I heard the curtains descend and the students with me
pulled the two of us back until we were behind the curtain.
It was my first performance as a conductor, and I finally
admitted to myself that I guess I did a good job, even if I
received quite a lot of help from my talented band members.

* * *

    Due to their schedules, it took Kristen and I some work
to get Patty, Camille, and Wendy together for a holiday snack
at the mall.  At the food court, I made a formal presentation
to the girls of their presents.  They all blushed a bright
red--which Kristen caught on her camera that she brought with
her--when they saw what they received and read their notes.

    They got me back, though.  Together, the three of them
handed me three notes, mimeographed copies of the handouts
from the Christmas concert that read, "OOGIE!"

    "Good," I sighed.  "Just about five hundred more for me
to find before everybody finally forgets that nickname!"

    We all had a good-natured laugh at that.

    During the week before the vacation, people in the halls,
even people I didn't know, kept saying "Hi, Oogie!" to me.

    Learning to like that nickname may take some doing, I
thought.  However, the people that called me that all smiled
at me when they said it.  Some people even shook my hand.
After it turned out that I was now a minor school celebrity,
I decided that there were worse nicknames to have, like
"Stinky."

    I found Sherry in History class the day before the
Christmas vacation started.  I handed her my present, and she
seemed shocked.  She opened it, and loved the pretty charm
bracelet.  "Thanks, Oogie!" she said with a giggle after she
opened it, right before giving me a tight hug.

* * *

    I gave my family their presents on Christmas day as we
opened up our gifts.  My step-father was surprised at the
tackle box, and my mother looked at the montage for a long
time.  I saw her smile in recognition of the events that she
recognized in the montage.  Finally, she looked up and
thanked me, and I ran over and hugged her.  (Later on, my
mother would thank me even more when I explained that the
pictures in the montage were only copies; the originals were
once again safe in her albums.)

    Merry hung her heart around her neck creating a makeshift
necklace made of used ribbon from other presents.  She came
over to me and gave me a big kiss.  That night, she would
hang that heart using that same ribbon in her room over her
bed, where it would remain for a long time.

    Kristen came over at about eleven o'clock and brought
gifts for everybody.  She spent a bit more than I spent on
her gifts, but like me, she made sure each of them was
special for the person receiving it.

    For my parents, Kristen gave them tickets to a charity
event that her mother was sponsoring for New Year's Eve in
Chicago.

    Merry received a charm bracelet from Kristen.  It was
similar to the one that I bought for Sherry.  On Merry's,
there were four charms.

    Merry puzzled over the charms for a bit.  Finally, I
said, "The first one is a sack of sugar."

    "OK," Merry said, a bit confused.  "That makes sense.
What about the next one?"

    Kristen answered, "That one I needed to order special.
Those are spices.  Do you see?  Cinnamon sticks and an onion?"

    I saw Merry work it through her head.  "I see: sugar and
spice.  I get it."

    The third charm was actually half of a charm that
originally said, "Merry Xmas." It now just contained the
first word.

    Merry got it.  "Hey!  I'm everything nice!"

    "Yup," I answered, smiling.

    Merry puzzled at the fourth one a bit, trying to make it
out.  "What's this tiny one?  It looks like a circle with a
stick on it."

    I looked at Kristen.  "Do you want to tell her?"

    Kristen smiled.  "That stick is a candle.  It's as close
to a 'short cake' that Jim and I could find."

    This drew laughter from my entire family, Merry included.

    Kristen had a small present for me.  The foil wrapping
was perfect, and unlike any of the other presents that I
opened that day, I felt that I needed to be careful with the
wrapping on this gift.

    The wrapping revealed a box, and inside the box was a
gold pocket watch.  I looked at it, and then up at Kristen.

    Kristen said, "Read the inscription."

    I looked on the back of the watch, and it said, in
beautiful calligraphy, "For my love." I read it a few times,
and then realized that there was something hanging from the
stem.  It was a lovely and long braided lock of blonde hair.

    I looked up at Kristen.  "O Henry!  That's one of my
favorites!"

    Merry was confused.  "The candy bar?"

    Kristen and I both laughed aloud at that.  I showed the
watch to my parents, and they smiled in recognition of the
reference.

    "It's from 'The Gift of the Magi,'" Kristen explained to
Merry.

    I quoted, "'Of all who give gifts these two were the
wisest.'"

    Merry still didn't get the reference.  I made a mental
note to see if there was a copy of that particular story in
my room.

    I looked under the tree and found Kristen's presents.  I
gave Kristen her first gift.  I watched as she carefully
removed the wrapping from the gift, revealing the manuscript.
"Oh, Jim!" Kristen said, full of emotion as she opened it.
"It's wonderful!  I love the cover!"

    I handed her the second present.  Kristen opened it and
found the necklaces.  "Two necklaces?" she asked.

    Without answering Kristen, I took one out of the box, and
moved around to place it around Kristen's neck.  I then took
the other one, and placed it around my neck--with a little
technical help from Merry.

    "There," I explained, intertwining our two necklaces.
"We're hooked on each other."

    This earned me an almost-R-rated kiss from my favorite
kisser.  I imagine that this may have caused my parents, or
Merry, or all of them for that matter, to blush.  Neither
Kristen nor I minded at all.

    Our family ate our traditional turkey dinner with Kristen
there as guest of honor.  During the meal, Kristen and I
tried to recount the O Henry story for Merry, who finally
understood the meaning of Kristen's gift.  Kristen surprised
everybody by reaching into her pocket book and pulling out a
coin purse.  She showed Merry the eighty-seven cents--with
sixty-two of it in pennies!  Apparently, when Kristen
researches a present, she makes every effort to impress.

    Kristen and I helped clean up the dishes, allowing Merry
and my parents some time to sit and talk and watch TV, and
also allowing Kristen and I some private time alone.

    Kristen said, "I hoped you'd get the reference to O
Henry."

    "Like I said, he's one of my favorite authors!"

    Kristen looked at me.  "I'm also surprised you knew the
quote."

    I sighed.  "I'm a hopeless romantic.  That also cost a
bit more than twenty-one dollars!  Now I wish that I thought
of giving you a set of combs," I said, smiling.  "But then
you would need to shave your head, and that I would never
allow, my fair Goddess!"

    Kristen shook her head.  "I love the fishhook necklaces!"

    We kissed, knowing that there was nobody watching us to
be worried about the rating.  (Some readers may want to avert
their eyes for a few minutes here.)

    Later on that evening, Kristen and I drove to her house,
my parents following us in their own car, to a party that
Kristen's parents were throwing for their close friends.  My
parents felt honored at the invitation.

    In Kristen's mostly remodeled apartment, I received some
more presents from Kristen.  One of my gifts was a formal
tuxedo.

    "That's the tuxedo that you'll be wearing at our
wedding," Kristen told me.

    "Hmm," I pondered.  "What if I don't get married in that
tuxedo?"

    Kristen looked at me sweetly.  "That's no problem, Jim.
It will then be the tuxedo you will be wearing when they bury
you."

    Oh, fuck.  Why did I say that?  I hadn't really meant
that.  I looked at Kristen; I saw a sparkle in her eyes, but
behind it, I knew that she wasn't really joking.  I quickly
backtracked, quietly wondering why I would blurt out such a
stupid remark.  "I would be happy to be married in that
tuxedo, Kris."

    That earned me a grudging kiss.  Afterward, Kristen
pointed out the watch pocket.  I smiled.

    Kristen also showed me a suit with another watch pocket
for me to wear for the party, and we dressed each other to
make our fashionably late entrance to the Swift's holiday
party.

    Kristen proudly showed everybody the necklace that I
ordered for her, and told the story that went along with it
(with the addiction part removed, of course).  She even
managed to embarrass me sufficiently by having the cassette
that I made for her in her purse, and she played it for
everybody at the party.

    For my part, I showed everybody my gift of the Magi that
I received from my lovely blonde Goddess, nicely fitting in
my new watch pocket.

    Being around the adults, especially wearing that suit,
made me feel so much older and more mature.  During the
entire evening, however, I kept on yelling at myself about
that stupid, stupid, stupid remark that I made about the
tuxedo.  I thought I was making a wisecrack, and it backfired
on me.  I needed to watch my mouth in the future.

* * *

    I wasn't able to spend the days after Christmas with
Kristen.

    Kristen went on a skiing trip to Austria.  She planned
this trip over a year, and since I never skied before, I
decided not to go with her.  The decision was even easier
because I didn't have a passport or a visa for traveling,
despite Kristen's assurances that she could have such things
expedited.

    Kristen offered to cancel her trip, but I told her to
have a good time.  I'd get to see her on New Year's Day.

    One of the gifts that I received from Kristen was a used
Yamaha keyboard that Kristen bought from a friend of her
brother's who was nicknamed "Sludge." I didn't have an amp to
plug it in, but there was a very useful quarter-inch jack
into which I could plug a pair of headphones.

    Kristen's absence and the new keyboard gave me the
opportunity to spend a lot of time alone in my room, hashing
out chords.  I remembered my desire to want to write my own
music, and this was a good time for me to get started without
driving my family up the wall.

    My step-father and I cobbled together a stand for the
instrument that used wing nuts and hinges so it could
collapse easily for storage.

    The electric piano had a tactile feel that was very much
different from the upright piano that I normally played in
the house--it was almost like an organ.  However, it was very
easy for me to get the hang of that.  Another difference was
the way the notes would blend tonally in a way that only an
electric piano with an electronic sustain pedal could
accomplish.

    Despite having almost a week to myself, I didn't get very
far with writing my "Symphony to a Goddess." Instead, I found
myself doodling around, playing bits and pieces of songs that
I fancied.

    I paid a visit to the Williams' house on Monday, and gave
Patrice and Jack their presents.  Patrice smiled at the
stuffed puppy, and Jack seemed to appreciate the Frisbees.
We promised each other that we'd make time to throw them
around when the weather got warmer.

    During my visit with Patrice and Jack, the doorbell rang,
and Jack ran to the door.  It was Doreen, and Jack brought
her downstairs where Patrice and I were sitting around.

    "Hi, Jim," Doreen said as Jack brought her into the
finished basement.

    "Oh, hi!" I said, happy to see that Jack and Doreen were
still seeing each other.  "I haven't seen you since the
party."

    The four of us talked for an hour or so before I started
to head out.  Before I left, Doreen reached into her
pocketbook, and rummaged through it and found an envelope.
She handed it to me.  "It's a Christmas card from Marla."

    I looked at the card, and decided that it might be a good
idea for me to open it up later.  I still felt guilty about
Marla; not only did I take advantage of her using the lucky
tickets, but I stood her up on an informal date we made at
the mall right before she needed to go back to her home in
California.

    "Thanks, Doreen." I looked at the card and it contained a
return address.  "I see her address is on the card.  Do you
think she'll mind if I write?"

    Doreen looked at me for a few moments and pulled a pen
out of her purse.  She took the envelope and wrote a number
on the back of it.  I could easily see that it was Marla's
phone number.  "Marla would love to hear from you."

    I thanked Doreen, and said good-bye to my friends.

    Walking home, I kept staring at that envelope.  Finally,
I decided to open it.  There was a card with a picture of
Santa on it with a standard holiday greeting.  Inside the
card was a short note:

	Dear Jim,

	    I don't know if you remember me, but we met last
	summer.  If you remember me, I would really like to
	hear from you again.

	    Ask Doreen if you need my phone number.

	Love and happy holidays,

	Marla

    I spent the rest of the day thinking about Marla and my
behavior toward her.  I wasn't very happy with myself.  I
couldn't get up the nerve to ask my mother to call long
distance that night, so I decided to think about writing
Marla a letter.

--
jimc_author@hotmail.com

JiMC is only a pseudonym.  Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours.

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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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