A light flurry of snow chased the three young women as they walked along the sidewalk, the surface gleaming wet from melted snow. Laughter and conversation followed them with people calling out cheerfully and drunkenly. Store fronts were well lit and busy, even this late at night and a Salvation Army volunteer called out for donations on seemingly every other street.
Trish hugged her body close, shivering for a moment as the wind sliced through her scarf, burning her ears. Her small, sharp nose barely showed above the scarf. She tried to burrow her face lower into the scarf but, instead, pulled her knit cap further down.
I need a bear,
she thought.
A big warm bear to cuddle with at night.
She blushed, her face barely turning more crimson as she remembered her date two days ago. Her date wasn't a bear but he was taller than her and she saw chest hair peeking through his black polo shirt. She smiled beneath her scarf and felt her body flush at the thought of him spooning her in bed. She liked to take things slowly but, right now, she'd jump at the chance to steal his body heat.
"Trish, were you listening?" Kelly asked. Trish blinked quickly, wiping her thoughts away.
"I'm sorry," Trish replied. "What are we talking about?"
"You're going to get him a gift right? Benjamin?" Kelly prodded.
"We only just had the one date!" Trish said. The young woman shoved her small hands under her armpits. "And it was only drinks."
"It's almost Christmas, Trish," Tina said, playfully bumping her hip against her friend. "Just get him something small. You liked him, didn't you?"
"Well, yes, but," Trish said hesitantly. She blushed again. He'd had a nice beard, too. Short but thick. And those little crinkles in the corners of his eyes.
"But nothing," Kelly told her. "Come on, we'll find him something. He'll probably get you something, too. Worst case, you show up with a gift and he's got nothing. Just play it off. And it'll be small. Cute. And then you kiss under a mistletoe. Wait. Do people still do that? Do people even put up mistletoe anymore? What do we put up for drunken, disappointing sex? Because with the way my life is going, that's what I need."
"Fine!" Trish squeaked. Despite the cold and numbness, she could feel her ears burning. She wasn't a prude but, despite knowing her friends for years, she wasn't nearly as comfortable talking about sex as they were.
A glass door opened in front of the trio, a small bell tingling sharply in the crisp air. Trish glanced in the storefront to see a small antique shop. Fake snow frosted the corner of the large windows but she could see a store packed with old Radio Flyer wagons, wooden toys and glass cases full of small trinkets. Her eyes caught on a row of pocket watches and she immediately pictured Benjamin smiling wide while pulling an old watch from a gift box.
"Here," she told her friends. "Let's look in here." The other two women glanced in the store and then followed Trish when she walked inside.
Trish stopped inside the store, wiping her small feet on the mat just inside. She pulled her wool gloves off, stuffing them inside her large coat pockets. Her knit cap followed and she ran her fingers through her short, black hair to fix the stray strands. The three friends broke off, wandering the store separately, calling out to each other when one of them found an especially interesting thing to look at. Trish walked straight to the display case holding the pocket watches. She pictured Benjamin with each of them in turn until she settled on a small, brass watch that she thought would look nice. It was cheap and worn but had a certain charm to it.
"Excuse me, miss!" Trish called out. The salesperson, an older woman who looked worn out from all the shoppers, smiled at her and came over. "I'd like the pocketwatch here, second from the right, please."
"Of course, let me just unlock the case. Would you like to look at it first?" The woman took a ring of keys from her pocket.
"Oh, no, I want it. Does... is there any history behind it?"
The woman smiled widely at Trish. "No, I'm afraid not. They're just old trinkets I've collected over the years. People bring me things, sometimes. Estate sale items that aren't sold or just old things collecting dust in the attic. Honestly, I couldn't even tell you where I got this one."
"Oh," Trish frowned. She felt silly for being disappointed but a small part of her wanted there to be a cute story of a serviceman returning from the War, bringing the watch home to a waiting wife. Still, she supposed it's better that she didn't know the story for it. The thought of a grandchild selling a grandparent's old things made her sad.
"Is it a gift for someone? Shall I wrap it for you?"
"It is," Trish hesitated. She was absolutely horrible at wrapping gifts. Most of them ended up being more tape than wrapping paper. She heard her friends giggling over something in the corner and talking with hushed voices. Trish blew warm air into her cold hands and then decided it was the thought that counted. "No, no thank you. I'll wrap it myself."
Kelly and Tina met Trish at the register. Tina held a wooden box. "I found a box of old photos. After this, let's go to the Stag, drink a ton of wine and go through them. There's a million of them in there."
"Deal," Trish said. "As long as it's warm."
