Christmas Therapy

***

Allen swallowed the lump in his throat and followed Heather to the checkout area. He helped her load her items on the black leather conveyer belt. The female attendant talked with her and even flashed a smile at him. He nodded his head and stuffed his hands inside his pockets. The attendant scanned the items and bleeping filled in the background.

“Anything else you need?” the attendant asked.

Heather shook her head as she unzipped her purse. Her eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“What?” Allen asked as he stepped closer.

“I forgot my wallet. It has to be in my other purse.” She huffed and bit her bottom lip.

Allen heard her wince as Heather dipped her chin.

She then gave a faint smile as she faced the attendant. “Sorry, Mary. I'll have to come back next time.”

Allen pulled his wallet from his pocket. He handed Mary his card. “Here you go.”

Heather's head jerked to face him. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” he said.

“You don't have to.”

Allen didn't blink and Mary handed him back his card. He didn't mind helping Heather, but why did his heart palpitate when she gawked at him?

“Thank you,” she said.

“You're welcome. Consider it my gift to you.”

“That's so sweet,” Mary said.

Allen bobbed his head and grabbed the bags for Heather. She said goodbye to Mary and walked ahead of him to his truck. He put the bags in the backseat and then helped her inside the passenger seat.

Heather avoided eye contact with him, so he didn't press her for conversation. He pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the street in silence. Should he explain why he wanted to help?

What happened at her home? Better yet. What almost happened in the store? He wanted to kiss her. That wasn’t too far-fetched, was it? Heather was stunning—breathtaking even. Would making a move be wise? When did she become more than his job?

“Thank you again.” She ran a hand down her neck.

“You're welcome.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Will you ever change your mind about Christmas?” she asked.

He glanced at her, but then faced the road again. “I don't hate it. It is the best time of the year. It's more common to see people think about others as opposed to the rest of the year.”

Heather bobbed her head. “I agree, but I love the decorations.”

“Even though you have to take them down, eventuall

y.”

She tilted her head towards him. “I have a neighbor who used to leave his lights up all year.”

He laughed. “All year?”

“Yes, from his Frosty the Snowman to the outside lights.”

“What happened?”