A Personal Assistant for Christmas

I was completely broke over the holiday season of 2015. No money for Christmas presents, my best friend had moved to California the summer before, and I was stuck in the Northeast suffering the most brutal winter anyone had ever remembered over the holiday of 2015 (it had snowed so much we ended up breaking a record for most total snowfall in a single season). I usually wasn’t alone on Christmas, it was one of the few days of the year my parents would let me stay home and skip church. If I didn’t, I’d be subjected to a four-hour sermon from the creepy pastor at the Second Baptist Church of God. I hated it. Had been begging to become a Catholic or Episcopalian since I’d learned there were ways to worship where they didn’t scream at you from the pulpit. That Christmas in 2015 was a particularly sad holiday for me. Mid semester finals were over, but I still had another week and a half before the break ended and second semester started. My best friend was across the country and my closest friends at school were either out of country or in other states. My parents and siblings were at church, my dad had “forgotten” to set the alarm clock for me and had left without me. Apparently I’m not a priority. Shivering in my T-shirt as the cold house whipped through my long hair, I wrapped myself in a throw blanket and set up shop on the living room sofa. I was trying my best to distract myself with a Lee Child novel when the mailman came to the door. I usually didn’t get mail (no friends to write letters to), so I opened the door in confusion. The mailman hunched against the wind and held out a package roughly the size of a shoebox. “Hey there, kiddo.” “Hi,” I said, hoping he didn’t notice my state of disshelvement. I accepted the box and flashed a weak smile as he walked back down the frozen driveway. I shut the door behind him and examined my unexpected gift. The return address on the box, with my name printed in the “To” section, read 4600 West Colfax Ave Denver, CO 80204. The box also said **Fragile** and **Delicate Contents: Handle with Care**. I had no idea who lived at that address or why they’d be sending me something in the mail. Especially since we hadn’t spoken in almost three years. I stood in the entrance of the living room, staring at the box with confusion stamping itself on my face. The house was so cold I could see my breath, but I just stood there. The saffron and gold wrapping paper with Asian-inspired designs was beautiful, but it strengthened the confusion I felt. Who would take the time to do this wonderful wrapping for me of all people? The tag wrapped round the ribbon said **From Daley**. I stepped forward off the carpet and into the living room when I finally came to. I set the box down on the coffee table near my throw blanket and ran upstairs to put on something warmer. The cold house, the box, and the stamp of fragile on it made me extremely curious. More curious than I’d been since Christmas morning when I was a kid. Back downstairs, I set to work unwrapping the present. The box was a gift all in itself. The wrapping, ribbon, and tag wonderful. I wasn’t sure how Daley afforded it, especially over the holiday season and all, but it was beautiful. I finally had off the wrapping paper and ribbon and tag. I lifted off the lid and found inside a letter and smaller box. I set the box aside for the moment and picked up the letter. The paper was wonderful quality, a floral print in the border that was the same as the wrapping paper. Dear Matt, Merry Christmas! Who would have thought to send gifts across the entire country? Can’t believe we’re so far apart, still. How’s life? I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately, wanted you to know it’s okay to reach out and say hi if you ever want. We both know how the road to hell is paved, and I’m not exactly swimming in good karma these days. I left you a gift with my new address on it, but I thought we could start anew and talk again after all this time. Love, Daley. I didn’t know how I felt about hearing from her again. We’d grown up together, were the closest of friends and Daley had always been my confidante. More than that, even. But when she moved away in the summer of 2012 I was heartbroken. She was the only friend I’d ever had, aside from Jake, but I didn’t really trust Jake. Daley and I grew apart after she left, I didn’t hear from her for almost three years and I wasn’t sure how I felt about hearing from her again, or about the fact that she’d sent me a gift through the mail. I set the letter aside and looked down at the gift box. The stamp of fragile was still there, and the box was incredibly light. I turned it over and examined all sides for any clues about what it could be, but there was nothing, just the stamp of fragile and delicate contents. I was starting to get worried. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I cracked my knuckles and opened the box. I didn’t know what I expected, but I cracked my knuckles out of habit whenever I was nervous. The box was empty, except for a note at the bottom. I frowned and picked it up, reading it. *When I first got a PA, I was completely confused. I didn’t even know how to open the box. Being a kid, I figured it would be the same for you.* *To activate your PA, go to the kitchen and press the right side of the “Start” button related to the stove.* *I hope you enjoy her, Matt. You won’t regret it.* Merry Christmas, Daley. There was a PS at the bottom: *They didn’t give me a note, I wish they had.* I wasn’t really sure what she meant, there was definitely no personal assistant at my house (we were too poor for anything like that). Nor was there a “Start” button anywhere near the stove. I knew Daley had always gotten whatever she wanted when she wanted it. She came from an upper middle class family and they never seemed to be lacking any money. People like Daley, who were given everything they wanted without ever having to lift a finger to earn it, tended to forget about everyone else. Even their friends. I set the note down, confused about the present. What exactly had Daley bought me? There was no gift, just two notes. Where was the PA, and why did I need an assistant? I stepped away from the coffee table after making sure I hadn’t missed anything and walked through the kitchen to make sure there was any possible button Daley would have been talking about. I looked high and low, but I couldn’t find anything remotely resembling a start button. Eventually I gave up, deciding that it was just the ramblings of a bored rich girl. I walked back to the living room and collapsed on the sofa and went back to my Lee Child novel. I’d read for almost two hours before I finally heard a knock at the front door. I groaned, setting the book aside to walk to the door. I opened the door to find my dad, holding out my still ringing phone. “Why didn’t you answer your phone, boy?” he asked me, handing me the phone over as I stepped aside to let him in. “I was reading and didn’t hear it over the crackling of the woodstove.” “You’re supposed to keep an ear out for your phone, Matthew.” “Sorry.” I walked past him as he went to the thermostat. Unlike me, I’m sure he would have noticed how cold it was. If he hadn’t already, he would have once he saw how many snowflakes I’d tracked into the house. “Why’s it so cold, Matt?” “I don’t know. I didn’t turn down the heat.” “Well turn it up.” “Yes, sir.” I walked into the kitchen and over to the wonderful new gas stove my father had purchased recently. I reached over the range to the control panel for the house. I pressed the up button three times to turn the heat up a few degrees and the red light flashed that it was in the process of “waking up” the furnace. As I always did, I looked at the control panel. I had no idea how it worked, it was one of those fancy touch screen computers that seemed to control everything in the house. My dad had bought it for himself when he bought the stove and the refrigerator. I’d asked him once how to open the box of the new fridge, and he’d snapped at me that it wasn’t any of my business how the appliances worked and that I was to never touch them. I looked at the oven display, the refrigerator display, the lights, the thermostat, the security system display. I finally came to the final button on the panel. It was so small, I had to squint to read it. It said “Start” and it was just below the display for the alarm system. I had no idea what it did, but it looked like exactly what I’d been searching for. I hesitated, remembering the notes that said it was my Christmas present. I reached out and pressed the button on the right side of “Start.” The lights flickered once, and I heard a static sound. The panel read a message, scrolling slowly across the line of text. “Personal Assistant Booted Successfully.” I wondered what tool Daley had wanted me to have so badly. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with my life that needed to

A Personal Assistant for Christmas

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