Free Surprise Package by Shirl Henke Page B

going to die. By the time she left work, she was even more afraid that she was going to live. The rest of her life stretched before her, filled with endless Gwendolyn Gleeson manuscripts and no Jeff Brandt. She moped around her apartment without eating supper. Then a sudden fit of energy—or was it insanity?—sent her in search of Mrs. Kleinschmidt.
           The super opened the door, her round face scrunched like a prune as she glared up at Gilly. “Yeah. Whaddya want? If you come to bellyache about paying yer own heat, find another place to live.”
           “I haven't come to complain, Mrs. K. All I was wondering was whether that paint was still in the basement and if I could look through it to see if there was a color I could use to paint my apartment.”
           “Yerself?” A look of intense suspicion crossed her face. “You 'n' all them other troublemakers on the third floor always wanted me to hire someone to do it like I done the halls.”
           The halls had been painted three years before Gilly moved in, six years ago. Subway station walls were cleaner, but she forbore to mention that. “Yes, myself. I just wanted to spruce the place up a bit, sort of cheer myself up, since it's Christmas time.”
           Mrs. K made some sound between clearing phlegm and burping. The dozen or so hairs arranged over the top of her pink scalp jiggled as she nodded. “All right by me, I guess. KKK stored the stuff so anyone who wanted could use it. Themselves,” she added meaningfully. KKK was the nickname tenants and super alike had bestowed upon Klinger & Kinsolving Consolidated, a slumlord corporation.
           Half the night Gilly scraped, rolled, and brushed until she was ready to drop, then stood looking around at her handiwork. The once dingy place now had soft cream walls with celery-green trim. She hung some old prints from college and several travel posters. Tomorrow after work, she'd go out and buy some new throw rugs, scatter pillows, and other accents to brighten up the oversized, garage-sale furniture.
           She was turning over a new leaf, beginning a new life. Yeah, and it's almost Christmas, and you're alone again. Gilly made an early resolution. She would not inflict herself on her friends like some desperate orphan this year. She'd spend Christmas here in her own place and buy herself a real Christmas tree and surround it with presents—all for her. After what she'd been through, she had earned it.
     
    * * * *
     
           “No way are you going to mope alone at home over the holidays!” Charis said. It was quitting time, and they were leaving the building. Gilly was loaded down with manuscripts she had not worked on because of her decorating frenzy the night before. “Look, girlfriend, I know this thing with Jeff hit you hard, but that's all the more reason not to be alone on Christmas.”
           Gilly pushed through the heavy glass door to the street and was greeted by an icy blast of wind. “That's all the more reason for me to learn to do just that. I know you mean well, Charis, but I have to stand on my own two feet. I've always been too...too needy, I guess.”
           “Given what you went through as a kid, you're entitled,” Charis said as they trudged up Sixth Avenue toward the subway station.
           “That's no way to go through life. Look at the trouble it's gotten me into.”
           “Man trouble, you mean.”
           “Yeah, I mean.”
           “Well, you need to meet somebody new, that's all there is to it.”
           “Give me a little time off to catch my breath before you start fixing me up again, will you? I really need a break from this relationship thing.”
           Suddenly, Charis stopped in her tracks, causing the woman directly behind her to veer around, giving her a dirty look. “So much for the Christmas spirit,” she said, laughingly as they began to walk again. It