A trip, a fall, a coma…can three spiritual visits turn the tide, or is Holly doomed to a life void of feelings?
I was sitting alone at an upscale hotel bar. This is weird. I looked around and noticed the poinsettias in the corner, arranged to look like a Christmas tree. Cute. The fancy lights behind the bar and the mistletoe, hanging in secluded corners, completed the decor. The subdued background music was a mixture of holiday pops and carols.
I know this one. I’m dreaming of a white Christmas. Yes, I’d forgotten. It’s Christmas Eve. What’s going on? Where am I? What time is it? I was about to do my photo shoot. How did I get here?
The barkeep approached. “Hello, Ms. Adore. May I call you Holly?”
“No, you may not. Where am I? What time is it?”
“It’s Christmas Eve, and the time’s six in the evening. Well, Holly, you’re in my domain. Physically, your body is being taken to the hospital. You should have worn more practical footwear for your photo shoot. You tripped, fell down the stairs, and hit your head. You were unconscious when the paramedics arrived. They managed to stabilize you.”
“What?”
“You’re still alive, but in a coma, and whether you wake up or not depends on you. Have you been naughty or nice?”
“That’s silly. I’m not going to answer.”
“I’ll tell you—you’re not on the nice list. It’s Christmas, and I’m here to help. You’ll be given three opportunities. I hope you make wise choices.”
He turned and started to leave.
“Hey, don’t you walk away.”
“I have other clients to attend to.”
“I’m the only one in the bar.”
“I have many bars. What is it you want?”
“I don’t know. My career’s my life. I’m in the middle of a very important session. We’re going to launch a new perfume in the New Year. My team’s on a tight schedule, and we’re working through the holidays to get it done. It’s called business.”
“I’m sure they’re enthralled. What’s the big carrot for them?”
“Carrot…there isn’t one. They work for me, and I demand one hundred and ten percent.”
“One hundred and ten, why not ask for two hundred?” Holly looked bewildered. “What about your husband? Do you love him?”
“He’s very supportive and accepts that, at this time, my career’s number one.”
“That’s a polite no. You have a long way to go. Good luck.”
“Who are you?”
“You’re my client. I’m your guide.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Okay. My name’s Aaron, and I’m a fallen angel. I got my wings, but the flesh won out. I lost them. You won’t find me on top of any Christmas tree. I’m serving my penance, as are the spirits who’ll help guide you. But at the end, it’s up to you.”
The music changed.
Holly smiled. Air on the G string…it must be Aaron’s theme music. Sweet.
He turned and left. I suddenly noticed there was a snowball cocktail on the bar. My favorite. I picked it up and sipped. It’s good. I took a second bigger sip.
What now? Wait until I wake up. I don’t remember the bartender leaving the drink. Where did he go? I can’t even recall what he looked like or what he was wearing. I chuckled. Male…tick, not nude…tick…hold it, he had dark hair, and…the rest’s a blank. No, he had a Santa hat on. Fallen angel…ha, ha.
I suddenly noticed what I was wearing. Is this some sick joke? I look like Santa’s helper—in a short red tunic with a black leather belt. I even have candy-cane earrings.
“Excuse me. Is this stool taken?”
I turned. There was a woman standing there. She wore a tight-fitting gray midi-skirt, a white pleated shirt which struggled to contain her large breasts, and her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders. She flicked her head.
My, she’s attractive. Love the way her wispy hair undulates as it settles. I could get lost in her large blue-green eyes. I love business attire on a woman, and what she’s wearing is hitting all my buttons. I’m a married woman, but it’s not cheating with another woman.
“No, it’s free. Do you want to join me for a drink?”
“Thank you.” She sat down. “I’ll have a Holiday Mule.”
A drink materialized. She picked it up, drank it in one gulp, and smiled. “I needed that.”
She replaced it on the bar. I watched as it incredulously refilled.
This isn’t real.
She chuckled, and I got goosebumps.
“Holly, it is real.”
I picked up my drink and took a big mouthful. She can hear my thoughts? That’s not possible.
