Free Feel Again by Fallon Sousa Page A

forming on his tan face; his
green eyes done unjustice by the furrowing of his eyebrows. Maggie
loved him so much. She hoped that he knew that.
    “And, what about this one,
Mags?” he chuckled, waving an ornament shaped like a beer bottle in
front of her face. “I’ve had this since college.”
    “Arthur, throw that old
thing away!” Maggie replied teasingly. When she saw her husband’s
face fall, she returned with much lighter remark. “I was just
kidding, honey,” she added. “I know you love that
thing.”
    “You know I do.” Arthur
was actually pretty serious when he said this.
    “Besides,” Maggie added, smirking flirtatiously, “I have my
own secret box of
trinkets from when I was in college.”
    “You do not,” he said,
almost as if he weren’t so sure. Just to check, he looked over at
his wife to check her expression and study it for clues as to
whether or not she was hiding anything from him in regards to her
life before they had met. Her face, especially when she burst out
laughing at his stare, told him that she was not. He was right. He
smiled.
    “Arthur, honey, can we
just, well, I don’t know, uh, finish this tree so we can find
something better to do?” She winked at him this time.
    Finally catching on to her
sentiment, Arthur responded to Maggie’s subtle proposal. “Sounds
great,” he said. “And I mean that when I say it.” She laughed, and
they went back to decorating the Christmas tree. It was going to be
a great holiday. Or so they thought. As Maggie, her brown eyes
glistening in the light of the shiny holiday decorations, placed
the last of her favorite blue snowflake ornaments on their
sweet-smelling pine, her husband, whom their son had taken after
when it came to his stubbornness, reached for the golden star
topper. He was determined to put it on the tree by himself, despite
the fact that he was only five foot six, and the tree was nine feet
tall at the very least.
    He climbed a worn-out blue
ladder that had been sitting against the living room wall for this
very purpose.
    “Watch out,” Maggie said.
“You could fall and break your leg or something.”
    “I’ll be fine,” He
replied. “Don’t you worry about me.” He truly believed that he
could do anything. Well, just about anything, that was. He began to
climb the ladder slowly, just in case, though he would never even
dream of admitting so, his wife was right about the dangers of a
combination of the ladder and himself. Just then, they heard a
subtle knock at the door.
    “I wonder
who that is,” Maggie stated curiously, her eyebrows raising ever so
slightly in response to the knock. The Davidsons were not expecting
to receive any visitors until the following day, which, of course,
happened to be Christmas. Maggie, her curiosity beginning to get
the best of her, even if she was normally suspicious of any such
occurence, particularly so late at night, began walking towards the
heavy wooden door, which was painted the same shade of red as the
holly berries on the wreath that hung from it.
    “Ah,
darling, don’t bother,” Arthur replied, not feeling very up to
having visitors of any kind, especially after the frank suggestions
his wife had previously made about what the two of them might do
when they were finished decorating their Christmas tree.
    “ We’re
done with visitors today,” he contined. “They’re probably just
carolers, and haven’t we heard enough music for today?” he
questioned earnestly.
    “We sure have heard plenty of music today,” Maggie
added. And, to be quite honest, it was true. That very morning,
before the clock had even struck seven, the couple had enjoyed an
array of holiday tunes that had streamed from their beat-up old
radio as they had cleaned their home and lit cinnamon-scented
candles.
    There was another knock at
the door. “Should I get that after all?” Maggie asked, sounding
disappointed at the thought of her night being interrupted by
guests, even if it was often