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Gift Wrapped
Frank was still uncommitted as to what he was getting Dee for Christmas. Her unusual tastes made him dread holiday shopping like a trip to the dentist. What bothered him most was her snide little jokes that she would make all year long. If she didn’t like what he gave her, he wished she’d just take it back, but that wasn’t how his darling wife operated. She loved to taunt him. What he wanted in his stocking more than anything else this year was to be able to do one solitary thing right, the laundry, the dishes, he wasn’t picky.
That afternoon he knocked off early and stopped at the mall on his way home. As if the light bulb in his head turned on like in the comic strips, the perfect gift came to him once he walked through the front doors of the shopping center bustling with cheer. It was the very thing she asked for not three days earlier while they were making love.
Wrapping paper, a bow, a large box, tape, and scissors filled his basket while he waited in line with the other shoppers. His final stop was the garage of a dark old house on Holland Street. The bonus his boss had given him couldn’t have come on a better day. He was going to give Dee a Christmas to remember.
In a few short minutes, lips in a tight smile, eyes with a Father Christmas glimmer, Frank assembled and wrapped the telephone booth sized box. With loving script he wrote a note to his dear Dee and taped it to the box. Lifting the lid, he lay down inside. His face was so peaceful as he closed his eyes and removed the pistol from his coat. The taste of the barrel was nothing like what he expected.
When Dee came home, the apartment was cold, dark. The Santa Clause on the table gave an electronic Ho Ho as she walked by it, and her heart felt warm. This was the first Christmas in she couldn’t remember how long that she was excited to spend some time with Frank—just the two of them. Over the last few years they had started to drift apart, and she knew she was partly to blame. But this year she was ready to make amends. By the twinkle of the Christmas tree lights, her soft hand brushed across the box until she touched the card. The last three months of her and Frank’s marriage had been the best of the entire fifteen years. Dear Dee, the card read, just like you asked, you’ve got me in a box.
Everette Bell is a fiction writer who enjoys all genres. His stories have been published in various magazines and webzines
throughout the small press. Look for his forthcoming chapbook from Yard Dog Press.
Email Everette Bell
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