MISTLETOE
By Queenie
I Saw You With Your Hands
1999
Tommy saw her. The snow danced in front of him, fat and plenty and heavy from the night sky; shimmering in the short glow of the streetlights. The headlights. Dim flashes of the seasons colours, blinking, muted in Tommy's background. The snow made the night awash with a cold brightness, blindly blocking views of the life around him. The Christmas shoppers and their loud packages. He could hear last minute swearing underneath breath.
But he saw her. With him. And he was trying to grab her purse. Tommy was wearing his Reeboks. And so he stopped him.
Above Your Head
2000
They were walking and almost to Tommy's car.
“You did not seem to like the show,” Tommy bit the side of his mouth and looked at her.
She looked up at him surprised, “No, I did.”
“Are you sure?” he said. “I thought about it after I had the tickets. You work down here. You probably see all these shows whenever you want.”
She laughed. He had no idea. “I have never had the chance to see it since I have come to New York. And it is closing soon."
"So, you had a good time, then?" he asked.
She stopped walking, as they reached the car and laughed at him. "I said so, didn't I?"
He opened the door of his Altima for her, for Tommy was always a gentleman. He opened it with a gallant swing of his arm. "Then we shall go every year, Madam."
Sarah moved herself into the car and Tommy closed the door, cutting across the front end of the car, sliding and using his arms for balance, to get to the drivers side.
Spinning Around
2001
It was late and there was pounding at her front door.
She undid her chain lock and poked her head out into the hallway. Brown carpets.
She sighed with relief, exasperation, then hissed, “Jesus Christ, Tommy. Why are you here now? The show was hours ago.”
But she really wanted to ask why he was drunk.
Tommy leaned into her doorway, pointed a finger around. Loose and whole arm involved. “It is very late.” His point landed on her. He was loud.
“Just get your own self in here, Tommy,” she said, turning around; leaving the door open behind her.
He was quiet closing the door, quiet taking off his soaked coat. His squeaky shoes.
“Miranda broke up with me,” he said, matter of a fact, walking into her living room.
“Oh, Tommy,” she turned back towards him and sighed.
Tommy shrugged his shoulders; wearing a white ribbed t-shirt.
He pretended to act tough.
"I don't care," he said.
Trying Not To Look Down
2002
They were sitting in a corner booth, with leather black seats. Mostly murmers and soft piano music. It was late, after the show.
She watched him in his grey suit, sitting across from her and wanted to shake her head. She never understood why Tommy insisted on drinking red wine.
Sometimes, when she looked at him, she wondered if he should star in a soap opera.
“How’s Bill?” he asked, suddenly; politely.
Crash.
A waiter. Across the room, going to his knees to pick up glass. White shirt. Red tie. And it was surreal to watch Tommy turn to stare, and then crank his neck back to her and his thumb towards the waiter with a wicked smile.
Maybe Tommy should be in the movies, the thought spun into her head, despite the other thoughts his question had brought her.
And so she spit it out fast and quiet. “Billy asked me to marry him."
He turned right back around.
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I told him no.”
But You Did
2003
“God,” said Deborah, as they walked down the sidewalk. Coat cuff to eyes, and dabbing. “That was fucking fabulous.”
“Yeah, it really was,” she said, laughing.
“How many times have you seen it now?” Deborah asked.
“This was my first time,” she said.
“Fuck off,” Deborah smacked Sarah in the arm.
“I have no time to spend watching Fairy Tales. Work is a bitch.”
“Yeah, right,” shot back Deborah, rolling her eyes. “You are a star.”
“I am glad you came with me tonight, Deborah,” Sarah said, suddenly.
And Deborah reached for Sarah’s hand, grabbing it, letting her long pink nails curl around, her hand warm. “Oh, honey. You miss Tommy, don’t ya?”
“What-no,” Sarah shook her head and smiled. “He is somewhere much sunnier than this right now.”
“Where?”
And Sarah smiled bigger. “Hollywood, man.”
“You got to quit calling me that, honey. I am all woman, now. But tell me, tell me, what is that boy in Hollywood for?”
And Fell Hard On The Ground
2004
They were walking back to the car, it was cold. Snow danced like shards of crystal; cutting cheeks. A beautiful evil.
“What will the next few days bring for you, Tommy?” she asked, looking over at him; in his long black coat.
“I am not sure. Janet and I broke up earlier this month…So, the usual round of family, I suppose.” He said. He grinned. “What about you?”
She looked up at him, as they parted to let a mother with stroller by on the sidewalk.
Then she bit her lip and answered, “Billy has been calling lately. The past month. He wants to get together for a few hours Christmas Eve.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
And she tripped suddenly.
And quick, his gloved hands came out and grabbed her wrists, pulling her up.
And close to him.
Looking into each other eyes.
She had no breath in her.
For a second, she could feel the pull from him. She instinctively swallowed her spit and finally let out a small breath of air.
Then took a step back, at the same time he did. He let go of her wrists.
Eyes still held, she took a deeper breath.
By Queenie
I Saw You With Your Hands
1999
Tommy saw her. The snow danced in front of him, fat and plenty and heavy from the night sky; shimmering in the short glow of the streetlights. The headlights. Dim flashes of the seasons colours, blinking, muted in Tommy's background. The snow made the night awash with a cold brightness, blindly blocking views of the life around him. The Christmas shoppers and their loud packages. He could hear last minute swearing underneath breath.
But he saw her. With him. And he was trying to grab her purse. Tommy was wearing his Reeboks. And so he stopped him.
Above Your Head
2000
They were walking and almost to Tommy's car.
“You did not seem to like the show,” Tommy bit the side of his mouth and looked at her.
She looked up at him surprised, “No, I did.”
“Are you sure?” he said. “I thought about it after I had the tickets. You work down here. You probably see all these shows whenever you want.”
She laughed. He had no idea. “I have never had the chance to see it since I have come to New York. And it is closing soon."
"So, you had a good time, then?" he asked.
She stopped walking, as they reached the car and laughed at him. "I said so, didn't I?"
He opened the door of his Altima for her, for Tommy was always a gentleman. He opened it with a gallant swing of his arm. "Then we shall go every year, Madam."
Sarah moved herself into the car and Tommy closed the door, cutting across the front end of the car, sliding and using his arms for balance, to get to the drivers side.
Spinning Around
2001
It was late and there was pounding at her front door.
She undid her chain lock and poked her head out into the hallway. Brown carpets.
She sighed with relief, exasperation, then hissed, “Jesus Christ, Tommy. Why are you here now? The show was hours ago.”
But she really wanted to ask why he was drunk.
Tommy leaned into her doorway, pointed a finger around. Loose and whole arm involved. “It is very late.” His point landed on her. He was loud.
“Just get your own self in here, Tommy,” she said, turning around; leaving the door open behind her.
He was quiet closing the door, quiet taking off his soaked coat. His squeaky shoes.
“Miranda broke up with me,” he said, matter of a fact, walking into her living room.
“Oh, Tommy,” she turned back towards him and sighed.
Tommy shrugged his shoulders; wearing a white ribbed t-shirt.
He pretended to act tough.
"I don't care," he said.
Trying Not To Look Down
2002
They were sitting in a corner booth, with leather black seats. Mostly murmers and soft piano music. It was late, after the show.
She watched him in his grey suit, sitting across from her and wanted to shake her head. She never understood why Tommy insisted on drinking red wine.
Sometimes, when she looked at him, she wondered if he should star in a soap opera.
“How’s Bill?” he asked, suddenly; politely.
Crash.
A waiter. Across the room, going to his knees to pick up glass. White shirt. Red tie. And it was surreal to watch Tommy turn to stare, and then crank his neck back to her and his thumb towards the waiter with a wicked smile.
Maybe Tommy should be in the movies, the thought spun into her head, despite the other thoughts his question had brought her.
And so she spit it out fast and quiet. “Billy asked me to marry him."
He turned right back around.
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “I told him no.”
But You Did
2003
“God,” said Deborah, as they walked down the sidewalk. Coat cuff to eyes, and dabbing. “That was fucking fabulous.”
“Yeah, it really was,” she said, laughing.
“How many times have you seen it now?” Deborah asked.
“This was my first time,” she said.
“Fuck off,” Deborah smacked Sarah in the arm.
“I have no time to spend watching Fairy Tales. Work is a bitch.”
“Yeah, right,” shot back Deborah, rolling her eyes. “You are a star.”
“I am glad you came with me tonight, Deborah,” Sarah said, suddenly.
And Deborah reached for Sarah’s hand, grabbing it, letting her long pink nails curl around, her hand warm. “Oh, honey. You miss Tommy, don’t ya?”
“What-no,” Sarah shook her head and smiled. “He is somewhere much sunnier than this right now.”
“Where?”
And Sarah smiled bigger. “Hollywood, man.”
“You got to quit calling me that, honey. I am all woman, now. But tell me, tell me, what is that boy in Hollywood for?”
And Fell Hard On The Ground
2004
They were walking back to the car, it was cold. Snow danced like shards of crystal; cutting cheeks. A beautiful evil.
“What will the next few days bring for you, Tommy?” she asked, looking over at him; in his long black coat.
“I am not sure. Janet and I broke up earlier this month…So, the usual round of family, I suppose.” He said. He grinned. “What about you?”
She looked up at him, as they parted to let a mother with stroller by on the sidewalk.
Then she bit her lip and answered, “Billy has been calling lately. The past month. He wants to get together for a few hours Christmas Eve.”
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
And she tripped suddenly.
And quick, his gloved hands came out and grabbed her wrists, pulling her up.
And close to him.
Looking into each other eyes.
She had no breath in her.
For a second, she could feel the pull from him. She instinctively swallowed her spit and finally let out a small breath of air.
Then took a step back, at the same time he did. He let go of her wrists.
Eyes still held, she took a deeper breath.
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