The next morning I stared out my kitchen window expecting to see Shannie sitting in the elm tree. She wasn't there, no matter how hard I willed her image the branches swayed without her. Gazing past the elm, beyond the single line of trees into Fernwood, I didn't see any sign of her. "Merry Christmas," I mumbled, exhaling a plume of smoke through my nose. Coughing, I snubbed out another cigarette into the growing mountain of butts. More tears stung my bloodshot eyes. I reached for another cigarette and was greeted by an empty pack. "FUCK!" I crumpled the empty pack and threw it across the kitchen. I barely missed Ellie. Poor Ellie, I thought returning her gaze. She knew. She gazed at me with sad eyes. She peered at me as she rested her snout on the floor between her extended legs.
Never have I felt such emptiness; never had I such a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Not even during my accident, not even learning of Count's death. "You should have let me died!" I cursed God. "She didn't deserve to. I'm the wastoid; I'm an asshole; she had a life." I pleaded. "It's not fair," I erupted into another flood of tears. I buried my head into my arms.
The phone rang. I bolted; heart racing. It's Shannie, it's just a nightmare, Shannie's calling. It's just a dream. Krista's voice reminded me it really happened. "James," her voice hesitated. "James," she repeated, pausing to give me a chance to pick up, as if she sensed my presence. "I got your father's message. I'm so sorry; I don't know what to say. Listen, I'm out of town, but I want you to call me when you get this message." She repeated the out-of-state number twice before continuing. "Call me collect if you have to. Call as soon as you get this message. I'm here for you; don't feel like you have to go it alone." She paused again, before repeating, "I don't want you going it alone. Call me James."
Outside, a light snow fell, just like last night when Steve Lucas and I walked out of Dino and Luigi's. I walked to the kitchen window, watching heaven's frozen tears as I replayed the horrid night over again in my head.
"Cool, it's snowing," Steve said as we walked across the parking lot to his car. "You think we're finally gonna have a white Christmas?"
"Huh? Why should I care?" I questioned.