Christmas has always been touted as one of the happiest times of year. Unfortunately everyone knows that it is also one of the more depressing times of year as well. National suicide rates go up, and it seems as though everyone has a sad story of older relatives hanging on till the holidays, only to pass away shortly before or shortly after christmas.

Several years ago, one of my close friends passed, near christmas, in a house fire with his youngest son in his arms, overtaken by smoke in his struggle to save his family from the fire, started by an over heated appliance.

That year, everyone in the community pitched in to help his widow and their remaining children and that was a sad christmas story, but it’s not this story.

I have to tell you about my Angel. I’m not some religious zealot. I’m not seeing holy visions or anything. Angel is a proper nick name for a real girl, my sweet heart, some one very real and very close to me.

When you live in a small community, it’s very easy to find good close friends. and Johnny was one of mine. Most of you know, I have three younger brothers, and two younger sisters in my growin’ up family. Well, Johnny was just another brother, tacked on from the out side, sort of like a younger brother that grew up down the road a piece, or that stray dog that don’t mind nobody on your block, but you.

Johnny was a good ole’ boy from Tennessee and we met a few years back after we were all grown up, but it was like we knew each other all our lives.

As younger brothers go, he wasn’t as aggravating as Joe or Vinnie, but he had his moments. Most of the time Johnny was playin his music or ridin his Harley, or puttin in overtime down at the shop where he worked, and that was good enough for him. He worked hard during the week, and played harder on Saturday night. He didn’t make much of a pest of himself, and I did the best big-brotherin I could do, given the circumstances.

Johnny wasn’t book smart, but you could hand him a wrench or a welding torch and whatever needed fixin, was either repaired, rebuilt, or runnin better than new by supper time. He had a quirky sense of humor, and that was about it. After that, there was just sense enough to come in out of the rain (mostly).

This is where Angel comes in. Angel was the other half of Johnny, the smart half. Native American by birth, country girl by choice, that little lady knew just how to bring that stray country dog to heal, better than anyone.

Although Angel was closer to my age than Johnny’s, and I was older than Johnny by a stretch, she was his ‘baby girl’, and he was her ‘daddy’, and that worked out just fine for them. Most everyone in the community knew they were a couple and if anyone had questions about her calling her ‘daddy’ to the supper table, they were too polite to ask.

Like most couples from time to time, life’s road gets bumpy, and Angel’s or Johnny’s aggravating side would peek out. One night Johnny complained to me about one problem or another, and like a Big-Brother I told him that, “if he ever got fed up enough with her, just send her over to my place, she’s a good cook, and smarter than he was, and better company too.”

He laughed and said “Yeah. I know,” and went back to his ‘baby girl’. One of them apparently apologized for whatever, and by the next day the whole incident became a memory.

As life happens, this wasn’t the last bump in the road, and amongst friends, Johnny would grumble about something small, and in my Big-Brotherin’ I’d just remind him that I hadn’t had country biscuits and gravy for a while, and that seemed to make things all right between them.

When Johnny himself passed, two summers ago, it was just like my own family had gotten smaller.

That young college kid never saw Johnny’s Harley when he pulled into traffic that morning. There was no ill intent in that boy’s heart at all, he was just in a rush to get to his class, like so many of us are for one blessed thing or another these days.

In that instant, out of an old inside joke, a once forgotten promise came due.

Now, I remember that I said, I wasn’t going to get religious on you, and that was a promise, but I fancy myself Gorean by religion, and that is really what brought Johny and me together. I was the the Senior teacher and Johny was a good student in Gorean ways. The very first lesson, and the one most important in todays world, is that ‘A Goeran, without his honor, is nothing.’ As a Gorean, and in honor of my Gorean Brother, despite all that was going wrong in my life, I intended to keep that half joke/promise.

Angel made the funeral arrangements and once all of Johny’s affairs were handled, she came to stay with me.

With me being sick and just starting to collect permanent disability, and angel with her own set of health issues, we started our life together in the good ship ‘Cough&Hack’. I gave up my big bed at the house, and I stayed out on the couch, mostly because after a couple years out from my last divorce, I got used to sleeping alone. We weren’t officially a couple, and somehow we couldn’t bring ourselves to forget Johnny.

Angel is a good cook and I can remember mornings where I could gain three pound just by smelling breakfast. but more often than not, Angel spent the morning in bed, still suffering from her night of pains and aliments.

There’s no kids in the house for us, and with us both being sick so much, there is little or no extra money for gifts if we did. I forgot to mention that, Angel and I had been together for nearly a year, but in the beginning of this December we had been given less than 24 hours to move out of where we were, and on the third day of december night we found ourselves squatting in my Uncle John’ attached garage.

Because of the unexpected move, before we knew it, my disability pay was all used up, and our food stamp assistance was gone. Uncle John is close family too, and soon his pension was spent. The folks down at the Catholic Church down the road had given us a nice sized ham for christmas, but I was left wondering what we would eat for the next two weeks after that.

So christmas morning I rolled out of bed early, careful not to wake anyone, Uncle John has his bedroom, and Angel has the big bed in the garage. I sleep on My Uncle’s couch in the living room. As I said, Angel slept late, and Christmas Morning was no exception.

Now I do some banking online, not much mind you, mostly just have a balance sent to my email every morning and occasional notices when my payments come in, or more often it seems, alerts when my balance goes red.

I knew all the banks were on holiday time so what happened next was a complete surprise. I hadn’t expected a notice of deposit, but there it was. I clicked the e-mail and the amount of the payment stunned me. Almost four times my normal payment had arrived that christmas morning. I was so shocked I started talking to myself.

What happened?

I don’t know.

Was some clerk in the office on Christmas Eve handing out bonuses?

It’s from the Government, so, no, not likely.

Did Santa work for the IRS?

Only slightly more likely than a clerk in the office on Christmas eve, but still doubtful.

But all of my government payments are automated, how did this happen?

I didn’t know.

Are you sure Santa doesn’t work for the IRS?

Honestly, no.

No he doesn’t work there, or No, you’re not sure?

That’s a couple of thousand dollars, so, no, I’m not sure.

After about two hours of this banter, verifying it wasn’t some computerized mistake that the government would force me to pay back, I decided that breakfast was on me.

I got dressed and hunted for my keys and cell phone. We were nearly out of cigarettes so I snuck in and gave Angel that excuse for taking the van. My phone wasn’t on the bed stand like it should be, so I gave up hunting and left in the van.

Needless to say, lots of stores weren’t open that morning. So I traveled almost 50 miles around town, to find that the Win-Dixie Grocery was the only place open.

What I didn’t count on, was the fact that it was raining, one of those Florida monsoon type rains that you can only see a few feet in. I know a little science and it struck me funny that a few hundred feet off the ground it was snowing, but Florida was just warm for it to reach the ground. I happily buzzed into the store thinking at least the weather was trying to give us a White Christmas. Any place else, and this shower would be a blizzard, and I heard on the radio while I was driving, that in Texas, it was.

I also, didn’t count on the fact that the rain woke Angel from her sleep. While I was out shopping, she was worried about my trip to the store.

“Just a pack of cigarettes” I had said, “I wont be long.”

After the first hour she noticed. She tried calling my cell phone and her message was rather upset.

The second call would have been more upset, but that’s when she heard the phone ringing in the couch. Gone for two hours with no phone, she figured she should really start to worry now.

Only just, before the third hour was over, I started to back into the driveway with the van. When I snuck away, the whole place was quiet and still. It was still quiet as I walked around to the back of the van to unload. When I got there, all hell broke loose. I was shocked to see my little Angel, standing right there.

“If you ever do that to me again, I will tear the hide right off of your bones, Mister!”

From the look on her face, I could tell that she damn well meant it too.

In my own defense I reached over with my left hand and popped the hatch on the back. As the tailgate lifted, big white plastic bags of groceries were sitting up strait as could be, all full of things we needed, and a couple of sweet goodies we could have gone without.

She must have thought I had robbed the bank, because she was aware of our situation just as well as I was.

“Who did you rob?” she asked, and damn well expected an answer.

“Nobody, baby girl. The Back Payment from my disability claim, came in to the bank this morning at 3 am.”

Her whole expression changed and she rushed over to hug me.

“Daddy,” she said “you were gone and it was raining, and I got scared to death. Don’t ever make me fall in love with you only to have you go away too. Don’t ever go away! Don’t you ever leave me alone again, Daddy!”

She cried there in my arms for as long as it took, and my eyes were tearing up too. I just closed my eyes and held her close, and we stood there in the rain.

When I opened my eyes again, I looked out past the garage and there was a smile fading away. For the briefest instant I thought about Johnny standing there, and in a flash of common sense I realized we were standing out there in the rain, and that thought of Johnny was gone.

Right now Angel is putting the finishing touches to the ham we had, and the goodies I bought, I’ve been sneaking tastes all afternoon from the veggie tray. Then just a few moments ago, when I stepped outside to get a smoke, I heard off in the distance, someone firing up an old Harley out beyond the rain.

Before now, I haven’t told any one how I felt about his passing, or how Angel and I had gotten together, but today, something tells me I had to write this story down. And now that I have, I really should wash up before my ‘baby girl’ calls her ‘Daddy’ to supper.