Christmas Therapy

Cupping one elbow, he walked beside her to the front door. Heather didn’t make conversation with him this time. He didn’t ask but helped her inside to her couch.

“You need anything?”

“No, my Mom’s stopping by anyway,” she said.

Allen scratched the back of his head. “Okay, I’ll see you next time?”

She maintained a blank expression. He didn’t utter another word. He closed the door behind him and shuffled back to his truck.

***

Allen squinted his eyes as he threaded the needle. He dragged a piece of popcorn all the way to the knotted end of the string. He didn’t argue with Ms. Diana after she assigned him to string popcorn. As opposed to working on the Twinkle Tunnel, he’d rather do the manual labor. Instead, she handed him popcorn and string.

His eyes scanned the room. Heather didn’t show with her mom, and for a moment, he missed seeing her face. He exhaled, and strung another piece of popcorn, only to hear the cafeteria doors open. His eyes shot up to see Heather on her crutch alongside her sister.

Heat crept up his spine which only made him drop some popcorn on the floor. He needed to hurry so he could leave. He couldn’t shake his body temperature rising when this woman was around.

“Heather, you can help Allen with the popcorn,” Ms. Diana said, as she gestured her daughter over to the table with him.

Just his luck. Allen forced a smile at his patient. Heather gave a wave and hobbled over with Sonia by her side. He rose from his seat to help, his chair scraping the floor. It was the least he could do. “Here you go.”

“A gentleman I see,” Heather said.

“Thank you,” Sonia said. She looked over at her sister. “Do you need anything right now?”

Heather shook her head as she propped her leg on a nearby chair.

Allen adjusted it for her. “This comfortable enough for you?”

“Yes, thank you.” She removed her coat.

Ms. Diana led Sonia to the other end of the room and Allen returned to his seat.

Heather grabbed the bowl of popcorn. “Looks like you made some progress.”

“Some.” He grabbed his threaded needle and grabbed more popcorn to string.

Heather watched. “You’re good at this.”

Allen’s heart clenched. “It was something I did with my Mom.”

Heather’s lips parted. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I would have told your Mom, but she’s on a mission with this Christmas fair.”

“I can tell her if you’d rather help with something else,” Heather said.

“No.” He shook his head. “No special treatment for me. I can handle it. It brings back good memories, anyway.”

Heather gave a faint smile. “Any other traditions you remember?”

He smiled. “Making a snowman.”

“You’re kidding? I can’t imagine.”

“Why’s that?” He pivoted in his chair to face her.

“I just picture you as a…”