Pickup Truck

Sitting in the passenger seat of a beat up old pickup truck with a beautiful girl driving wasn’t a bad way to spend your night. I mean, sure, it was a little odd to not be behind the wheel, but I’d learned since coming to OKC that things aren’t always like they were back home or in Edmonton.

Cristine was a prime example of that. She worked her ass off to pay off student loans while scouring for job opportunities. Coming back home after a successful four years at Stanford hadn’t been the ideal option for her, but it had been necessary. It was certainly a decision I was glad she had made.

“Where are we going?” I asked for the millionth time. She had been insistent on keeping it a secret.

She laughed, making the sound I loved so much. “Patience, padawan,” she referenced the movie we had watched on our first date. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

It was late on Christmas Eve. 11:00 pm on December 24th usually meant I was asleep, either with my parents visiting Edmonton or with plans to visit in the coming days. This year, they wouldn’t be making the trip down until after the New Year. Tonight, Cristine had enticed me into staying out with her to see…something.

“Aren’t you parents upset that you aren’t spending Christmas with them?” I didn’t want to get on their bad sides just hours after meeting them.

At a red light, Cristine turned to face me. “Relax, will you? My parents loved you and when I told them what I had planned, they didn’t mind. And besides, knowing them, they’re already asleep.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, happy that they were okay with whatever our plans were.

We drove on for another 20 minutes before coming to a stop in an old field somewhere outside of town. Having been in OKC for several months, I knew the surrounding areas well enough to get around, but this was one place I hadn’t been to.

“Where are we?” I asked as we climbed out of the truck that belonged to Cristine’s brother.

“We,” she started as she began undoing the snaps on the tarp that covered the truck’s bed. “Are at the drive in. It’s closed for the winter, but it’s a nice place to watch the stars.”

Star watching?

Clearing the tarp off the truck, Cristine revealed a mass of blankets and pillows. Hopping up onto the edge, she motioned for me to follow.

“What are we doing?” I pulled her down so that her head rested on my chest and her body fit snugly into my side.

Covering us with blankets, she explained. “There’s a meteor shower tonight. I doubt you can see it with the city lights in Edmonton, so I figured I’d show you what the stars look like down South.” She smiled at me knowingly. I loved teasing her about her slight Southern drawl.

“Meteors?”

“You’re just chalk full of questions tonight, aren’t you, Eberle?” her laugh was contagious, as I chuckled along with her. Reaching into a bag nestled in the corner, she pulled out a thermos. Expecting hot chocolate, I got a mouthful of eggnog.

This was one of the reasons I loved. Cristine wasn’t traditional by any means. In fact, she’d been the one to ask me out. After two weeks of seeing her around the town almost anytime I was out, I had started to get the courage to ask her myself. But of course, she beat me to the punch.

I liked the way that she hadn’t known a whole lot about hockey. That was to be expected, I guess. Living in Oklahoma City all her life, hockey wasn’t a bit sport. I’d slowly taught her the rules of the game and she caught on quickly. She got along with Hallsy and Nuge and even made an effort to get to know the other Barons guys.

But most of all, Cristine understood the lockout. She had googled it herself, causing a small rift between us that lasted a few days. I hadn’t come right out to her and explained that I could be leaving at any moment and that bugged the hell out of her. It had taken us both a few days to cool off, but once we had, we decided to make the most of the time we had together.

Looking down at the pretty girl with me, I knew there weren’t too many like her. Cristine could banter with any player in the NHL, I was sure of it. She could cook with any chef on the Food Network and make a fool of herself just like a stand-up comic. She was independent, a necessity when dealing with a professional athlete and I had known from day one that she wasn’t looking for money, a constant worry in all our minds.

Simply put, she was perfection.

“Look,” her voice was soft as she pointed up to the sky.

And sure enough, the first few meteors fell across the sky for a few fleeting seconds. We waited silently for the next one to appear, just relishing in each other’s warmth. It was utterly silent around us too; the only sound was the wind rustling the leaves and branches.

After a while, Cristine checked her phone. Seeing the time, she smiled up at me. Using her arms to hover above, she pecked my lips.

“12:00,” she grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

Pulling her towards me, I kissed her again, letting it linger for a while.

Merry Christmas indeed.