SURPRISE AT CHRISTMAS' EVE

I'm tired.

It's Christmas' eve and I'm stuck into the Boar's Nest, trying to tidy up after a stupid fight.

Stupid drunk men. And now, because of them, I'm here picking up broken glasses and wiping hectoliters of beer from the floor, whereas I should be already at the farm.

Moreover, my feet hurt and I've just cut myself with one of those darn glasses. And now that people are gone and the Boar's Nest is empty, fortunately, I start to feel cold because of this outfit: this kind of short shorts and shirt is not the best outfit for a winter like this. The only sign of the winter, and of Christmas, is a Father Christmas' hat on my head, a stupid hat with a stupid pom-pom that keeps on falling into my eyes every time I bend over to pick up a glass.

Exasperated, I take the hat off and I throw it on a table.

When an icy blast hits me I turn to the door, "Hey, it's closed… and it's destroyed", shouting, and surprising myself with my own harsh tone.

Enos stands near the door, his hat in his hands and his eyes down as a scolded child.

"Uh, sorry Dais. I know it's closed, and I know 'bout the fight", he laughs shyly, and I remember he was there, with Rosco, Bo, Luke and Cooter trying to stop the brawl; no, I should say: he was there with Rosco trying to stop the brawl whereas Bo, Luke and Cooter seemed to enjoy it. Sometimes my family's men and Cooter drive me crazy.

After several minutes spent looking silently at the floor, fidgeting with his hat, he looks up at me, and I open my mouth in shock.

"Oh my God, Enos! What's happened to your face?"

Stupid question, I already know it: the brawl.

I walk to him and I touch gently the bruise on his left cheek and the cut on his lower lip, but he freezes and he moves back, squeaking like usual, "I'm OK, Dais, only a bruise. I've come here to check everything's OK, now", then he averts his eyes from me, looking at the devastation all around us, "WOW. What a brawl".

I sigh and I fold my arms around my chest, "Yeah, and now I have to… tidy up, before to go home, or Boss will fire me. I can't leave things like that"; looking around, I'd cry… of rage… and I shiver, both for rage and cold.

I feel something heavy, and warm, on my shoulders, and I realize it's his jacket, the black jacket he usually wears when it's cold.

"Rest a bit and let me help you"

Before I could even reply, he starts picking up glasses from the floor; surprised, I look at him moving in the Boar's Nest and quietly tidying up. In effect, I shouldn't be surprised since it's typical of Enos, but I can't help but being always surprised by his kindness and politeness; I've never seen him snapping at anyone, nor angry (except in rare occasions, due to his work), but always smiling and caring.

I sit down on a chair and I wrap his jacket around me: his warmth and his scent, through his jacket, relax me, and my anger slowly moves away. Regained my self-control and some warmth, I rest his jacket on a chair and I stand up to help him.

We spent two hours, working side by side (no way to convince him to stop and to let me do MY job), to give an acceptable look to the Boar's Nest: from a dirt devastation to a… tidy devastation, but, anyway, we can't rebuild broken chairs and tables, so we can't do anything more.

"Ok, now it's time to go home, sugar. We'll see later at the farm", I wink at him, looking forward, finally, Christmas' eve, all together at the farm.

"Ehm… Daisy, I think there's something wrong with… your jeep, so it's better if I give you a ride to home".

"What?", I walk past him like a fury and I come out the Boar's Nest to find out my jeep destroyed; I remember the classic noise of a wreck few after the fight, when finally people, drunk, were pouring out the pub, but I didn't think the wrecked car was MINE.

"NOW I WANT REALLY KILL SOMEONE", I walk around my poor Dixie, my mouth and my eyes wide open, death staring at the devastation: devastation inside the Boar's Nest, devastation outside the Boar's Nest, fury inside me. I start shivering, and now I'm sure it's not because of the cold (yeah, maybe ALSO because of the cold) but because of the rage boiling inside me.

Again, he gently rests his jacket on my shoulders.

"You shouldn't come out like that, Dais. It's cold"

"OBVIOUSLY it's cold, Enos! It's winter. And my jeep is destroyed, and my feet hurt and…", I sneeze, and, like a perfect gentleman, he hands out his handkerchief, white and immaculate, to me.

"… and you're catching a cold", he smiles sweetly, and I can't help but grab his handkerchief and blow my nose, loudly, feeling so embarrassed I'd cry, but it's impossible to cry looking at his face: a sweet smile, his eyes wide open in a mix of worship and dream. I think he's the only man who can look at a woman that way, even if that woman is loudly blowing her nose. He always looks at me as if I were a goddess, a lot differently than other men: he doesn't lust for my body (or, at least, he doesn't show it in that animal-like way as usually men do) but he loves ME, everything of me, my blowing nose too.

My rage melts like snow under a sparkling sun, and I burst out laughing.

"I think it's better I'm goin' to get changed, dressing something more… apt to winter. And yeah… I need a ride to the farm, thanks, sugar"

I hand out his jacket back to him and I walk inside the Boar's Nest, heading to the private bathroom where I have a bag containing my clothes: boots, a pair of blue jeans, a long sleeve shirt and a jacket.

On the way to the farm he drives silently, sometimes glancing at me and smiling shyly.

Only having me by his side as he gives me a ride to home is a sort of dream for him. I love his way to respect me, his way to protect me, his way to enjoy everything of me; he can calm me down as nobody else.

"Enos, sugar, I want to thank you for your always being so sweet and caring to me", I gently touch his forearm and I feel his muscles tenses under my hand. Why is he always so nervous when he's around me?

"Oh, Daisy, I… I've not done anything special. It's normal, for me, … being like that". His voice is like a whisper, and I see him clenching his hands around the wheel, as he's somehow forcing himself to say something more, but he stops talking, his eyes fixed on the street.

But I know pretty well what he's meaning: he loves me, and he'd do anything for me. He's already said it to me, only one time, that day at the lake, and he's already showed it to me, several times.

"YOU are special, Enos, in everything you do, and… it's why I love you".

I've said it, finally. I needed several years to understand it clearly, I needed the chance to ask him to marry me even if in that particular situation (to protect him from goin' to jail), I needed to feel that ravaging sense of loss when he decided to postponed our wedding, four months ago… and he's not asked me to marry him, yet, while I keep on waiting for HIS proposal 'cause I don't want to feel again that emptiness and sadness if he finds another excuse not to marry me (yeah, I know it was only an excuse, 'cause he didn't trust my feelings).

I needed a night like this, he and I all alone in his car, to find the strength to say to him those three words: I. Love. You.

Why did I wait so much? Maybe 'cause I fear his reaction: if he's so nervous and clumsy when I come closer him now, what could he do, then, if I come closer and closer to him? His shyness has always blocked me, somehow, despite I like this side of him; I both like and hate this side of him. What if my revelation blocks him?

I'm still thinking of what his reaction could be when he suddenly stops the car, looking at me with surprise.

"Daisy, did you... just… say that… did you say… THAT?"

His surprise saddens me: is it so difficult for him to believe I can love him? I sigh, deeply, before to look into his eyes, "Yeah, it's what I've just said. I love you, Enos Strate". Ok, now I have only to wait his reaction: is he going to laugh nervously? Is he going to faint? Is he going to vomit? Or…?

His lips press against my ones, interrupting any other speculation, obviously wrong speculations. I thought I knew everything of him, I thought I could anticipate any reaction from him. I was wrong, totally wrong, and his hands on my hips as he keeps on kissing me are a proof I was totally wrong.

When we part I'm breathless, but no so breathless I can't talk, "Enos, why did you wait so much before to kiss me this way? If you had kissed me this way, I'd have told you I love you a lot earlier". I smile and I use my usual teasing tone to hide my shock, a pleasant shock but a shock.

"Daisy, if I had kissed you this way, I wouldn't have stopped and, in case you hadn't told me you loved me but you had, instead, rejected me, I'd have lost my mind trying to have a step back, trying to be only friends. Being rejected after a kiss like that would have meant, for me, not being able to be a friend any more; it would have meant to have to run away from you, forever".

I'm stunned. I've always joked 'bout his lust over me, I've always provoked him trying to push him to admit his lust, only a bit, and I don't even know why: woman's vanity? If I had known he was so scared to lose his control and to be rejected, I'd have acted differently, I'd have been more respectful of his feelings; it wasn't only shyness and clumsiness, but fear and pain too.

I look at him, NOW speechless. But his way to look at me is pretty different from the way my previous crushes looked at me: his lust doesn't hide that particular mix of worship and dream. He keeps looking at me as if I were a goddess, but without shyness, now: he doesn't fear me anymore.

I sneeze and he bursts out laughing, encircling my shoulders with his arm, "Daisy Duke, you're really something else, and it's why I love you so much".

When he kisses my forehead, I close my eyes, resting my head on his shoulder, and when I finally open my eyes, we are in front of the farm.

We come out the car and we walk to the porch, hand in hand.