The only jingle bells Adam heard were the ones ringing in his ears.
That was a relief after suffering through Bing, Frank, Elvis, Madonna, and Mariah—even if it was a sign of concussion.
It could be concussion. The nurse said he wasn’t allowed to leave casualty until someone saw to him, and that meant waiting until the muttering drunk guy, the Santa with a buggered knee, the woman wearing reindeer antlers, and the two little kids in candy cane PJs had been attended to.
It could be a long night.
It hurt to open his right eye and his left eye was swollen closed. His neck felt like a sumo wrestler had been trampolining on it, and there was blood all over his shirt. His brow might need stitching. His hands weren’t shaking to look at, but deep inside the bones were clattering together like knives in a shaken cutlery drawer.
He’d never gotten into a physical fight before. He wasn’t made that way. Books over brawling; movies before mauling, almost anything before being aggressive. Even assertive was sometimes too flagrant an attitude. It was no surprise he got on better with his workflow software than he did with his office mates, but tonight he’d discovered his tolerance had a limit, and he’d tripped over it with twelve months of aggravation stored up in his fists.
Felix might look like he was made of thick crust pizza dough, but he punched like a character in Sniper Elite 4. That’s why Adam’s arse was sore. He’d hit the floor so hard he’d bounced, but he hadn’t stayed there. He didn’t like the view, Felix standing over him like he bloody owned the place and everyone in it. Also legs, a lot of legs, a lot of bare legs in tall heels and short party dresses providing quite the unlooked for opportunity for up-skirting, had that been a thing he’d ever thought about doing.
Odd that he thought about it now. That’s how radically out of order this situation was. He really should be focused on whether he had enough money for an Uber ride home, and what the hell he was he was going to do Monday morning when they gave him the flick.
Felt like he’d gone thirty rounds with Felix while Mariah sang about what she wanted for Christmas. Probably only lasted thirty seconds. Mariah was warbling youooooo when he’d put Felix down.
And Felix had stayed there.
Man, they sure knew how to throw a wowzer of a year-end party at LuxLife. Shame Adam’s first would be his last. They could forgive Karaoke mic hogging, bum photocopying, those beef jerky edible undies and sex toys in the Kris Kringle, but Adam was pretty sure decking the head of HR was a sackable offence.
Things were already grim, and then the only person in the company he’d rather lose a limb for than disappoint walked in to St Vincent’s.
There could only be one reason for her to be here. His Christmas present was going to come with unemployment benefits, like not being able to pay his rent.
Shelby left a space between them and sat in the next orange plastic bucket seat in the connected row. She still wore holly in her hair and Christmas tree earrings, and she smelled like spice and vanilla, a human version of a delicious warm pudding. A reminder of good things year-round.
He tried to straighten up, but he’d been here over an hour already and he was moulded to the chair and everything hurt, but nothing more than the pinched concern on Shelby’s face. He kept his own face averted and tried to focus on the blue and silver twists of tinsel strung along the opposite wall and the assorted non-farm animals in the nativity scene. There was a T-Rex, a Porg and a Groot watching over a Lego baby Jesus.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
He didn’t have to wait till Monday. He was going to get sacked in the casualty department of St Vincent’s hospital at 10.00pm a week before Christmas, while wondering if it was his wonky eyes and concussed brain or was Joseph really a Mr. Spock doll?
This sucked mightily, and he hated Shelby seeing him this way, but he’d brought it on himself. Might was well get it over with. ‘You didn’t have to come.’
‘Someone had to check on you.’
‘Not you.’ Urgh, said that aloud, really, really didn’t mean to, especially while sounding shitty when contrite was more fitting. None of this was Shelby’s fault.
‘Why not me?’ she said.
Because she was going to ask why he’d hit Felix and he’d have to lie because the reason would make no sense to her and that would make this whole wrong episode of decking the halls even more pointless than it already was. ‘I’d have thought someone, you know, on the executive team would need to do it.’
‘Well, it would’ve been Felix, but he’s somewhat incapacitated at the moment due to excessive Christmas cheer.’
That was a strange way of putting it. He’d half expected Felix to arrive at St Vincent’s too. ‘Is he all right?’ The guy had dropped, out cold.
‘He’ll have a black eye and a headache but he’s fine. No stitches required.’
Adam rocked forward and peered at the ground. It was a relief to hear Felix was okay. He could swear his tailbone creaked right before two fat ruby drops of blood fell to the puke coloured flooring between his feet. He straightened up again and used the gingerbread men tea towel he’d swiped from the kitchen to mop his head.
He was a triple threat: assault, battery and theft. Ho, ho, ho.
He should look at Shelby, but he didn’t think he was strong enough to take her disappointment even if he only had one working eye to see it with. He smudged the blood droplets with his foot. ‘Might as well get on with it then.’
‘Do you need anything? Can I call someone for you?’
She couldn’t be kind. He didn’t want her to be kind. She was always kind and fair and sensible. Always had a smile, always made you feel better. A sweetheart, everyone said so. He never had though. Never had the guts to openly admit how much he liked her for her sweetness and her strength. If she was kind now, then fuck, it might be tears hitting the floor next. He’d rather lose another fight than blubber in front of Shelby.
But then, he’d rather blubber than never see her again and that’s what was going to happen.
It was better if she just got it over with, cold, professional, efficient. He’d seen her be that way on deserving occasions, so he knew she had it in her. It was part of her all over awesomeness.
‘You know I don’t have family here,’ he said. They were all in sunny Queensland and most of them could stay there as far as he was concerned.
‘Your roommate?’
Okay, so cold wasn’t a temperature setting Shelby used often, but she could try harder to twist that dial for the sake of his mental health and wellbeing. ‘In Bali.’
‘I know you’ll have made other friends since you moved to Sydney.’
No one he wanted to call right now. Bad enough he’d come off the worst. The final humiliation of ending up jobless as well as beaten up in the freaking festive season was much better contemplated as a solo pursuit like picking your nose or squeezing pus from a boil. He risked looking at her directly. ‘I’m fine.’ As long as you quit being kind. Bah-humbug.
‘I’ll stay with you until they—’ Her eyes went wide. ‘Oh Adam, your face is all—and your hand, are you hurt anywhere else?’
He attempted a laugh because he couldn’t take the shock in her voice or the way her forehead crumpled, her lips turned down and her eyes got glassy. ‘Only my pride. You don’t have to stay.’
‘Of course, I do.’
He didn’t have anything to say to that. It was probably in her job description, part of the LuxLife HR manual. When an employee of Australia’s favourite online luxury goods retailer is injured, even if it’s their own phenomenally moronic fault, first sit with the dickhead before you sack him. This ensures the jerkface’s mortification is complete.
His body got heavier with defeat like there was a squad of sumo sitting on him. But Shelby didn’t leave. He couldn’t brood her out, no matter how hard he doubled down on his misery because she was tenacious. Right now he didn’t love that about her.
For a time they sat silently while the two kids sniffled and poked at each other, their hassled mum tried to peace-keep, Santa played a noisy game on his phone, and the drunk guy muttered to himself.
Adam had lost more than his job tonight. He’d lost any chance he ever had with Shelby. If he’d ever had a chance that is. Women like Shelby who knew who they were and what they wanted in life didn’t look twice at men who went at it like a bumper car that never won a race: stop, start, reverse, stall, cause an accident, crash.
When he couldn’t stand it any longer he said, ‘You don’t have to wait to do it.’
She wore red shoes with candy cane striped heels. She had earrings for every holiday and major event. Flags for Australia Day, hearts for Valentine’s Day, rabbits for Easter, crowns for the Queen’s birthday, popcorn for Eurovision and little sparkly jockey’s caps for Melbourne Cup. She had encouragement for everyone, and none of the LuxLife crew liked making her unhappy.
Just by being interested in you, Shelby made you want to be a better LuxLife employee, but more than that—a better person. It was her special magic. She was part beloved team mascot brought to life for the exclusive benefit of cheering you on, and part walking advice column who knew how to help you succeed.
‘Do what?’ she said, her stripy heels lifting as if he’d suggested an exciting solution to a nagging problem.
‘Sack me.’
Her heels went down, slowly, one at a time. Click, click, like a key turning in the lock that would define his immediately bleak future. ‘Why don’t we get you stitched up and home safe and we can talk about that later.’
Adam closed his eyes. ‘I decked your boss.’
‘And he decked you.’
‘I started it.’ There was no way Felix was the one looking for a new job in January.
‘Why? I mean I’m all for exciting, memorable Christmas parties, but I like to plan the entertainment in advance and this was, well, out of the blue.’
Not for Adam. For him, it had been too long coming and the acid shame he felt eating the lining of his stomach wasn’t because he’d inappropriately initiated a merry old smackdown in the middle of all the peace and goodwill on earth, but because it had taken him all year to do it. He’d had enough evidence Felix was treating Shelby badly when she wore the hearts in her ears and by the time she wore the crowns he’d have pledged his life for her if she’d asked.
Shelby had never asked him anything more personal than ‘how was your weekend?’ and ‘are you going home for Christmas?’, and it wasn’t like telling her how he felt now was going to save his job. If he told her the truth, it would only make her feel worse.
She angled the toes of her shoes his way. ‘You’re going to have to tell someone.’
‘Not if I’m sacked. It won’t matter.’
‘Worry about feeling better first.’
He met her two chocolate eyes with his one squinty one. ‘It’s okay, Shelby, you can hit a man when he’s down. I know the truth anyway. I know violence is never acceptable and I deserve the consequences, because right now I’m not sorry and I’d do it again.’
She shook her head and her Christmas trees bounced. ‘I didn’t come here to sack you.’
He passed a hand over his eyes. Maybe he was seeing things and his hearing was wonky. Not here to sack him? He had to be hallucinating, because if Shelby was here for any other reason, this was a deck the halls with boughs of holly goddamn Christmas miracle.