The Giving Season

Niklas Hjamarsson walked along Michigan Avenue in Chicago, trying to finish up his Christmas shopping. While he wouldn’t be seeing his family, as they were still in Sweden for the holidays, he still had bought them presents, planning on shipping them to him.

“I fucking hate Chicago!” he heard a female voice yell from in front of him. Looking over the crowd of people in front of him on the sidewalk, he saw a young woman lying on her back on the sidewalk, all of her shopping bags fallen out of her hands, with all of their contents now lying on the ground.

He quickened his pace to reach the girl when he saw that everyone else on the sidewalk simply walked around her, not stopping to help her. “Why can’t I live anywhere else in the world?” he heard her ask loudly to herself, and he let out a sigh of relief when he realized she wasn’t hurt too badly.

“Are you okay?” Niklas asked, looking down into her eyes as he hovered over her.

“I hate this city during the holidays,” the woman muttered as she tried to sit up. Someone walked around her, kicking one of her shopping bags, sending it sailing further up the sidewalk, as someone else stepped right on the bag, smashing all of the contents inside. “Fucking inconsiderate bitches,” she continued muttering under her breath.

Niklas put one of his hands on her back, while helping her stand up. “Here, let me help you,” he said, beginning to put all of the items back into the bags and handing them to her. He then walked down the sidewalk, picking up the bag that the pedestrians had ruined, walking it back over to her.

“Thank you,” she told him sincerely. “I think you’re the only nice person in this damn city during the holidays,” she added.

“Niklas,” he said, reaching his hand out for her to shake, which she immediately did. He looked down at the girl, who wasn’t short by any nature, but by standing next to his six foot three frame seemed petite. Her brown hair was thrown up into a messy ponytail, with her long bangs framing her face.

“Delilah,” she replied with a small smile.

“Delilah, why don’t I go buy you a coffee?” he offered. “It seems like you could use some caffeine at this point,” he added. Delilah stared at him for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out why exactly he was asking her to coffee. “It’s just coffee,” he said, noticing her hesitation.

“Okay,” she said slowly, nodding her head. She followed Niklas around the corner to a small coffee shop that seemed to be completely empty, despite the busy holiday crowd. “Are you sure they’re open?” she asked him, but quickly stopped talking as he opened the door, motioning for her to go inside first. “Thanks,” she told him, and he simply nodded his head in return.

“I figured you’d probably like someplace less crowded,” he explained. “I thought that if we went to Starbucks or something, someone was likely to spill their coffee all over you,” he said with a small laugh.

Delilah couldn’t help but laugh in return. “I’m not having the best day, am I?” she asked, and he shook his head as he put his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the front of the store.

“Order whatever you’d like,” he told her. “It’s on me.” She looked up at him, ready to protest, but when she saw the look on his face, she knew it would be useless. Either way, he’d end up winning the argument.

“Nik! How are you doing?” a teenage boy asked, walking up to the cash register. “I see the team’s doing pretty well right now, on a five game winning streak,” he said.

“Yeah, Mike,” Niklas nodded his head. “The team’s doing great right now,” he replied enthusiastically. “Hopefully we can keep this up, though.”

“Team?” Delilah asked, whipping her head around to look at Niklas. “What team?”

Niklas opened his mouth to answer before Mike cut him off. “You don’t know who this is?” he asked incredulously. “Niklas Hjalmarsson. Of the Chicago Blackhawks. Only one of the best defensemen Chicago’s ever seen!” he told her, obviously a fan of Niklas’s.

Delilah’s eyes widened with recognition. “I am such an idiot!” she muttered to herself, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I knew I’d seen you somewhere. I see you all the time on the news when they’re covering the Blackhawks!” she explained. Niklas gave her a small smile, not knowing how to respond.

“So, what can I get for the two of you?” Mike asked.

“My regular,” Niklas replied before looking down at Delilah. “What do you want?” he asked her.

“Ummm…” she said, looking up at the menu, trying to decide what exactly she wanted. “Just give me a regular coffee,” she finally answered, and Mike nodded his head going to work on getting their two drinks. Moments later, both of them had their drinks in hand, and Niklas was leading Delilah over to a table.

He glanced at her as she took a sip of her coffee, looking over all of her bags. She picked up the bag that had been smashed, taking out the now destroyed gift inside. “I seriously hate Chicago,” she muttered, throwing the now ruined piece of art back into the bag, looking out the window.

“How can you hate Chicago?” Niklas questioned, and she looked over at him curiously. “This is probably one of the best cities in the entire world,” he spoke.

“Let me clarify,” Delilah began. “I hate Chicago around the holidays,” she corrected herself.

“I think it’s the best times,” Niklas told her, taking a sip of his coffee. “Everyone’s happy and joyful, in a giving mood. It’s nice to see,” he said.

“Yeah, or everyone’s being complete assholes, stepping on you and your bags full of gifts when you slip on some ice in the middle of the sidewalk,” she countered. “You were the only person who even gave me a second glance, and I thank you for that. But, I really don’t get how you can say everyone’s joyful and in a giving mood.”

“You really aren’t a holiday person, are you?” Niklas asked.

“I just say things as I see them,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’m going to go to the restroom really fast,” she told him, pushing her chair back. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and he nodded his head, watching as Delilah walked back towards the bathroom.

Thinking about their conversation, Niklas thought quickly and pulled something out of his back pocket. “Hey, Mike, you got a pen I can use?” he called out, and Mike nodded his head, tossing a pen towards him. Niklas jotted a note on a napkin and put that along with the item he had just gotten out of his pocket into one of Delilah’s shopping bags. “Thanks!” Niklas yelled, tossing the pen back at Mike, just as the door to the bathroom opened and Delilah made her way back to the table.

Niklas and Delilah continued talking for the next two hours, neither of them realizing how long they had been sitting there. Suddenly, Delilah looked down at her watch, her eyes widening. “I’ve got to go,” she told Niklas. “I’m sorry. I’d love to stay and talk some more, but I’ve got to go wrap some of the presents that weren’t ruined today. Thank you for the coffee, though,” she told him with a smile.

“It was nice meeting you, Delilah,” Niklas said with a smile of his own. “I hope to see you again sometime.”

“Me, too,” she said as she walked out of the coffee shop.

When Delilah got back to her apartment fifteen minutes later, her mind was still on Niklas. She was slowly starting to regret not giving him her number. Niklas was extremely handsome, and he had shown that he was a nice guy as well. She shook her head, trying to get him out of her mind as she set all of her bags in the middle of the floor of her living room, getting ready to start wrapping the presents.

She started going through every bag, stopping when she saw something unknown in the bottom of one of them. She snatched the two pieces of paper out of the bag, looking at them curiously. The first was a ticket to the Chicago Blackhawks game the following night. She looked even more closely at it to see that the ticket was for the fifth row right behind the bench. She quickly grabbed the other piece of paper, which was a napkin with writing on the backside. She flipped it over, reading what was written.

Delilah,

Hopefully this shows you that there are giving people in this city right now.

Make sure to come downstairs by the locker room after the game. I’ll make sure to let them know you’ll be down there.

I hope to see you tomorrow night.

--Niklas

Delilah smiled to herself, putting the note along with the ticket on her coffee table, as she began wrapping all of the other gifts.

***

The following afternoon, Delilah was standing in front of her mirror in her bedroom, trying to figure out if going to the game was the right thing to do. Why had Niklas invited her anyways? Did he really want to see her again, or was he just trying to be nice to her after seeing her having a bad day? She glanced in the mirror again, figuring there was only one way to find out for sure.

After straightening her hair, she threw it up into a ponytail, putting her bangs behind her ear. She looked down at her outfit, a Blackhawks t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans, before she grabbed her keys and coat, along with her purse, walking out of her apartment.

As the team came out for warm-ups, Delilah looked out onto the ice, looking for Niklas. While she wasn’t a die-hard Blackhawks fan, she still knew enough about hockey and the Blackhawks to know what was going on. She looked for the sweater that held the number four on the back, and once she found him out on the ice, she kept her eyes on him.

As the warm-ups were coming to an end, she saw Niklas look up in her direction, flashing a smile. She gave a small smile back, not sure if he was looking at her or one of the many people surrounding her, and she wasn’t ready to make a fool out of herself if he happened to be looking at someone else. She watched the game with interest, happy when the Blackhawks came away with a seven against two win.

As Niklas started to go into the tunnel to leave the ice, he looked up at Delilah once again, smiling her way. He could have sworn that he saw her blush, but he couldn’t be too sure about that. As he walked into the locker room, he couldn’t help but to feel a little nervous and anxious. He wasn’t sure if Delilah was going to come down like he had asked her to in the note or not.

He quickly took a shower and got dressed, telling his teammates he would see them the following day at practice as he walked out of the locker room, into the hallway. He looked around, but he didn’t see the one brunette he was looking for. “Niklas,” he heard someone say from behind him, and he turned around to see Delilah standing there. He smiled at her, happy to see her there. “So, you asked me to come down here,” she said.

“Yes, I did. I actually wanted to take you somewhere,” he told her.

“Where?” she asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You’re going to have to trust me,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the United Center.

“You want me to trust you?” Delilah questioned. “I just met you yesterday!”

“If you didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t have come here tonight,” he pointed out. Delilah opened her mouth to say something, but she realized she really couldn’t argue with him. He guided her out to the parking lot, and they began walking down Madison Street.

“Where are you taking me?” she questioned. “And, aren’t you going to get mauled by everyone?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, putting on a baseball cap. Delilah fought the urge to laugh at his attempt at a disguise, deciding it would be best just to keep quiet at that moment. “And, we’ll be there in just a moment,” he said, continuing walking down the sidewalk.

He suddenly stopped in front of an art store, opening the door for Delilah, letting her in first, before walking in behind her. The owner walked over to the two of them. “Niklas, we have what you wanted in the back. Just let me go get it,” he said, walking into the back room.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked him, looking up at him.

“Here you go,” the owner said, giving Niklas the piece of art inside a bag.

“Thank you,” Niklas replied, putting his hand on the small of Delilah’s back, guiding her back out of the shop. As they stepped outside, Niklas gave the bag to Delilah. “Here you go,” he told her.

“What is it?” she asked, slowly opening the bag up. Her jaw dropped when she saw the piece of art that had been destroyed the previous day in the bag. “You didn’t!” she exclaimed. “Thank you so much!” she said, enveloping him in a hug.

“You said that people weren’t giving during the holiday seasons. I had to prove you wrong,” he smiled at her. “You’re welcome.”

“You know, you keep giving and giving, and yet, you’re not getting anything in return,” she told him.

“I don’t need anything,” he told her.

“I know you don’t need anything, but still, you deserve something,” she told him with a small smirk on her face. He looked down at her curiously before she stood on her tiptoes, giving Niklas a sweet kiss. “Thank you,” she told him once again.

He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, kissing her on the lips, not caring that they were in the middle of a sidewalk in downtown Chicago. “No, thank you,” he replied.