“I should have known,” I began, taking a sip of tea, “I should have known the date would be a disaster when I put my earbuds in my purse on my way out the door. No one brings earbuds to a date they think is going to go well.
“Still, I went. I put on nice clothes and did my make-up and dug out my uncomfortable date shoes and went. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I mean, the evening couldn’t go that badly, right?”
I pause. The grandkids smile at this point, because I’ve told the same damned story every Christmas Eve for the past four years. They’re dears though, and endure it nonetheless.
“As it turns out, it could go that badly. I left twenty-three minutes in. The first three were fine; he even laughed at a Shakespeare joke. Then he spent the following twenty telling me what a big-shot he was at work, and how lucky I was to be out with him, especially considering I was ‘just a shop girl’. I clumsily got my coat, hat, scarf, and mittens on and stormed out.
“‘Shopgirl’ I muttered out loud, fishing my earbuds out of my purse. ‘Who even says that anymore?’ I kept walking, proud of my exit but pretty upset about my choice of footwear for the evening. If I had thought far enough ahead to bring earbuds, surely I could have considered wearing something with a bit more warmth than stupid date shoes.
“Anyway, I was about to put the earbuds in when I looked up, and there was Charlie.”
At this point, I look up, and there’s Charlie. He’s focused on one of the younger grandchildren, and doesn’t realize we’re talking about him.
“I guess I was overly kind to him, and he followed me home that night. It was a good thing, too, because my horrid date also followed me home, but was scared off when he heard Charlie on my front step.”
“After that, well, Charlie made me feel less lonely and happy and loved.”
The grandchildren and I talk more about bad dates, and then, when their parents disappear to another room, about love. They tell me their funny stories and their sad ones. I censor mine and relay them in response. It’s Christmas Eve, so they each get to open one present from Charlie and I. I get them a book every year, but since Charlie has been around I’ve added a treat, since they are so kind to him when they visit.
After they all go to bed and the house is quiet once more, Charlie and I trot upstairs. He lays down beside me and sighs.
“Goodnight Charlie.”
I can feel him wag his tail beside me as I turn out the light. I have never felt so loved.