Skelton key in hand I crept up the narrow stairs. Every creak sounded like someone pulling four-inch nails out of an old fence but my nerves steadied as I reminded myself that I was alone in the house.
The key slid like butter into the lock and my eyes widened as the door swung open. There in the corner stood the Christmas bike I had longed for.
It gleamed with its new coat of green paint and it mattered not a bit that it was second-hand. It was a bit of a stretch but I managed to get my hands on the handle bars and let my foot rest on one of the pedals. Just to touch it made my palms sweat and I anxiously checked the hand-grips for moisture, wiping them with my pink-checked handkerchief.
As I nervously stepped back, the bike slipped and for a second the world came to an end. But, no damage had been done. Feeling I had tempted fate enough, I swiftly pulled the door shut and shoved the key into the lock.
It didn’t work! I offered up a small prayer and trembling, pushed the key back into the key-hole. Almost magically it slipped around the circle and the door locked. My eyes lifted heaven-ward and I whispered a quiet “thank you.”
Swiftly I swept down the stairs, across the parlour and out to the kitchen. Everything seemed as it always had been…the kitchen clock ticking, the kettle singing on the stove and a gentle December sun sifting through the windows. My heart finally stopped racing.
A half hour later Mom came in the door and I could hardly meet her eyes. I kept mine in my school book.
“You pass that test sweetheart and there may be SOMETHING special for you for Christmas” she announced. I knew Mom delighted in surprising me. I buried my eyes in my book, determined to pass my exam.
Christmas morning arrived and I awoke with a mixture of emotions then dragged my feet as I moved through the house to the parlour where we had put up the tree. Yes, there was the bike, its green fenders burnished by the tree lights. For a minute I forgot my guilt and squealed with delight.
“Do you like it sweetheart?” I heard Mom ask anxiously.
For the first time I noticed the pink bow on the front of the handle bars. “Pink…for Christmas?” I said to myself, my hand went to my mouth to shut out the gasp of horror.
“You little minx” said Mom. “I didn’t think you’d find the key. I knew you had sneaked a peek.” With that she untied the pink checked hankie …the one I’d used to wipe my sweat marks off the handle bars.
“I knew the bike was no longer a surprise,” she said “but I thought the pink hankie would be.”
She was right. My Mom’s usually right and she does love surprises.
