Chapter Text
Summer 2013
“She’s going to love you,” he assured her.
“You told her about me.”
“I told her you were a brilliant young woman with a bright future ahead of you.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Rich had a way of sugar-coating life. But so did she. It’s what made them a good match. “She knows everything, right?”
“Annie, Mother is thrilled I am bringing someone home to meet her.”
“You’re saying she doesn’t care about my past.”
“Why would she?”
“Because, I am obviously younger and …”
“She wants grandchildren and for me to be happy. That’s all that matters to her.”
Some would call it a sign.
It had to mean something that he showed up in her Beginning Pottery class of all places. He was an accomplished doctor and amateur artist, spending time at Greendale.
She normally wouldn’t take a blow-off class, but Abed convinced her it would be good for her.
Their paths crossed again when she was doing community service in her second year. The next thing she knew he was an honorary seventh member of the Greendale 6. He even helped Professor Duncan teach Anthropology 101.
Yes, it was meant to be. At least she thought so.
Rich called it a crush and told her she’d get over it. But, she was attracted to a certain type of man. She made no apologies for it.
Then, they ran into each other again.
He was spearheading a Greendale summer program for disadvantaged youth. Starburns’ death drew a lot of attention to their school, and Rich was the poster child for creating synergy between the affluent and less privileged populations that co-existed in Greendale.
The City and school board liked the optics of an esteemed member of the community, working with the Dean to ensure the right messaging to the student body.
He also helped the Study Group pass their second attempt at Biology 101. By the time the summer was over, she’d scored an internship at Greendale General. And she was able to graduate early.
Flash forward one year, and her present was sounding like the future was set. He was talking about starting a family, even though she was about to meet his parents for the first time. If she had a five-year plan, it appeared she was following it.
Meanwhile, Rich and his mother were already plotting out the next five.
“I’m not sure I am quite ready to be a mom, yet.”
He gave her a soft peck on the cheek. “I know. But, once you are established in your career, that will change.”
He knew how to pacify her. Her drive to be successful was alive and well, despite the windy path she took to get where she was in the here and now.
“You know me so well,” she admitted. “But, does your mom?”
“There’s time for that later,” he patted her hand. “Your past is your past, Annie.”
It was. He was good at reminding her to let go and grow up.
Christmas Eve, 2015
Though Annie did her best to please her, Irene Stephenson never quite accepted her as the girl she had in mind for her only son.
But Rich persisted, and that was how she found herself in the attic of his childhood home, trying on a vintage wedding dress. Without any family of her own to speak of, Annie knew she should feel lucky. Blessed is what they called it in the Stephenson household.
“It’s lovely, Irene. Are you sure you are ready to part with it?”
“The Historical Society wanted it. But Rich insisted,” she sighed, smoothing the bumps out from the silk, straightening the buttons. “It’s a perfect fit, Annie,” she smiled placidly.
She hadn’t seen herself yet. “Do you have a mirror?”
Irene pointed over her shoulder. Turning around, she heard the rip of the fabric and the strangled cry of Rich’s mom.
“It’s a sign,” Irene gasped.
“Irene, please forgive me.” The threat of tears burned her eyes.
“It’s not your fault, Dear. The silk is so pure and delicate. And …” Irene fumbled with the buttons down the back, trying to help her out of the dress.
The implication was not lost on her. Ever since Annie decided to pursue a second degree in Forensics, she’d become an even bigger disappointment to Rich’s mother.
Irene tried. But she had expectations for the woman her son would marry.
She carefully stepped out of the gown, gingerly handing it back to her future mother-in-law. “I will have it fixed.”
“Fiddle lee dee, Annie. You have much more important things to attend to I’m sure,” Irene placated her. “Working with the criminal element doesn’t leave a woman much time for such trivial activities,” she added.
Rich appeared at the top of the stairs. “How are my two favorite girls?”
“Richard Stephenson,” she chastised. “Annie is not decent,” she stressed, attempting to shoo him away.
It was hard for Annie to ignore Irene’s choice in words. She knew Rich’s mom didn’t mean to do it. But Annie wasn’t exactly comfortable with herself, especially in this family.
“Mother, it’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.” Annie shot him the most formidable face she could muster. “I am a doctor,” he teased.
“Oh, you love to shock me,” Irene scolded him. “Look at what she did to my wedding gown,” she whined, focused on the tiniest little hole along the seam. “If only your brother was still alive. I’d already have …”
“Mother,” he interrupted, his tone growing stern. “I can have that mended in no time.”
Irene immediately turned on her default, country-club smile.
“You are the best son in the world,” she hugged him fiercely. “I hope Annie appreciates how wonderful you are.”
She stood there, wishing she was back at Apartment 303. As far as Irene Stephenson was concerned that was where she belonged.
Annie would give anything for Inspector Spacetime’s phone booth to appear and transport her back to a simple time in the past, when she was with her Greendale family.
But Abed and Troy were both gone on their separate adventures. Pierce was no longer with them, an absence made greater when Shirley had to move to Atlanta to take care of her father.
The only one that was left was Britta. It was just the girls. And her chosen sister was less than enthused about the new family Annie would be joining.
“I’m sure she does, Mother,” Rich winked at her.
It had taken some time to get used to it, but Annie realized it was their way. Rich’s mother never truly recovered from losing her first born. And Rich was always trying to live up to the memory of an older brother.
She accepted it as part of who he was. He lived with a constant cloud of pressure to be perfect.
She could relate. Unlike her, though, Rich really was flawless. And, she was lucky that someone like him wanted to be with her.
Her chosen family slowly drifted apart over the last six years, and she was ready to have one of her own. One that would always be there, no matter how much time went by.
~*~
“She wasn’t so bad tonight,” he told her. “It’s always hardest on her this time of year.”
Rich didn’t talk about his brother a lot. All she knew was that he died when Rich was in high school. And his mother never fully recovered.
She was ferociously protective of her only son.
“I’m so sorry about the dress. I can pay to have it mended properly.”
“Don’t you worry about it another minute,” he told her. “Are you sure you want to drive home this late?”
It was Christmas Eve, and she didn’t want to upset him or his parents. In time, they would have their own home, and Irene and Harold Stephenson would come to them. And they would celebrate this time of year in their own way.
“You know I have an early start tomorrow. Thank your parents for me.”
“Drive safely,” he advised, kissing her on the cheek.
Pulling away from the curb, she felt a great weight lift from her mind. She was glad to go home to Greendale. The heater sputtered to life. She looked forward to the saccharine tunes of Christmas to accompany her on the ride home.
And then, she remembered.
Britta was on the air tonight. Usually, Annie wasn’t up so late because her shift at the hospital started at 5 AM.
“Thank you all for tuning in this evening,” Britta’s voice filled the space in her car. “The holidays can be a lonely time of year for some of us.”
“Oh, Britta,” she whispered.
Annie immediately regretted not including her. But, she could be really selfish sometimes, and she was uninterested in refereeing between Irene and Britta. Their first and last introduction ended with Britta lecturing Harold Stephenson on the gender gap in pay perpetuated by the patriarchy.
Rich’s father being a member of the C-Suite at Subway only emboldened Britta more. It was safe to say her closest friend was not her future in-laws’ favorite.
The conspiracy theorist in Britta still believed Harold orchestrated Subway's failed take-over of the school. She’d have to keep the alcohol away from Britta until after she fulfilled her duties as maid of honor.
Annie shuddered to think what would happen otherwise when Britta toasted the happy couple.
“Good evening and welcome to Greendale After Dark. I’m Britta Perry, filling in for Neil, who is off tonight in celebration of this consumer-driven nightmare, known as Christmas. This evening, our topic is Christmas wishes. But, since my wish is to be a therapist, feel free to share your deepest, darkest fears and insecurities. Let’s welcome our first caller.”
“Hi,” a young voice filled her car. “My name is …”
“Wait, don’t say your name. All callers are to remain anonymous,” Britta interrupted. “And, if you don’t mind me asking, shouldn’t you be in bed by now?”
“It’s Christmas Eve. My dad let me stay up past my bedtime.”
“Is he forcing you to leave out cookies and milk for a mysterious stranger, who breaks into homes in the middle of the night and bribes children with presents?”
Britta never missed an opportunity to introduce the topic of consent to any male she met.
“No, Dad says Santa is probably a diabetic. So we leave him a vegetable plate.”
“Interesting,” Britta mumbled. “So, you called in because you have a special wish?”
“Yes, um … hold on,” the boy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “The wish is for my dad, not me.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.” It was. The boy couldn’t have been that old from the sound of him.
“I thought about asking Santa, but he gives out toys and stuff.” He paused. “But my dad has been sad for a long time. So my wish is for him to find a wife.”
Annie hoped Britta would not forget this was a child.
“Young Man, marriage is a social construct. Most people who are married aren’t happy.”
Britta couldn’t help herself. At least she didn’t lecture this sweet child about women not being servants to the male super ego.
She reserved those speeches for Annie.
“My dad was happy when he was married to my mom.” He sounded so small and alone. “But she died,” the boy’s voice strained with the sadness inherent in his words.
Annie’s heart dropped in her stomach. She willed Britta to say the right thing.
“Oh, I am so sorry.” The silence followed. Maybe Britta realized this was beyond her. “But if you’ll let me, I think I know exactly how I can help.”
Annie knew that tone well. She was on the receiving end of it more often the closer she got to marrying Rich.
“No, please, don’t do it,” she pleaded into the quiet in her car. Maybe if she pulled over and texted Britta, she could stop her.
“Can you put your dad on the phone?”
Oh, no.
“Uh, I don’t know. He might get mad at me.” Hopefully, this little boy was smart enough to hang up on Britta.
“No, he won’t. This is your Christmas wish.”
“Ok,” he hesitated. “But if I get in trouble, it’s your fault.”
Britta laughed. “It’s a deal, Kid.”
“Dad,” she heard the boy yell. “The phone is for you.”
“Who would be calling so late?” she heard a distant yet tired voice. “Hello?” the voice grew deeper and clearer.
“Merry Christmas,” Britta greeted him, far more chipper than Annie was accustomed to hearing, seeing as she was an Atheist. “Welcome to Greendale After Dark.”
“Excuse me?” he coughed.
“You are on a radio show sponsored by Greendale Community College. Your son called in tonight to share his Christmas wish with our listeners.”
“Jonah!” the man shouted. “Come here. What is this about?”
“Don’t be upset with your son, … um, who is it I am speaking with?”
“I’d rather not,” he replied.
“His name is Jeff,” Jonah piped up.
So much for anonymity. She couldn’t believe Britta would do this.
“Jeff, my name is Britta Perry. I am studying to be a therapist.”
“Jonah, you called a fake shrink?”
Britta deserved that.
“It’s obvious your son is concerned about you, Jeff,” Britta chimed in. “It wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone. Another adult.”
“With all due respect,” he started. “I don’t know you. And Jonah and I are doing fine.”
“Jeff, it’s his Christmas wish.”
“Talk to her, Dad. She’s kind of a doctor.”
Both father and son were on to Britta. But for some reason, Jeff didn’t hang up the phone.
“You’re going to be on the naughty list next year for this one.”
“That’s the spirit,” Britta encouraged.
“Soooo,” he breathed slowly. “Tell me, wise therapist-in-training, what’s my son’s wish?”
“Britta, please, please, please don’t say it,” Annie prayed out loud.
“Jonah’s wish is that you find a new wife. I already shared with him that marriage is an antiquated practice that society …”
“Ms. Perry,” he cut her off. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this. But, that is none of your business.”
Good for him. People deserved to keep their personal lives private. She understood that. Sometimes it was easier to take care of yourself.
“Call me Britta. Jeff.” Annie waited for this man to end the call. She would. But for some reason, he didn’t. “Can you tell me how long it’s been since your wife passed away?” Britta inquired gently.
She heard him clear his throat. And then a long pause ensued. Even though Annie anticipated he would hang up, he stayed on the line.
“Is this really your Christmas wish, Jonah?”
“Mom wouldn’t want you to be alone, Dad.”
No one should be alone. Annie knew the heartbreak of that all too well.
“She got sick.” She could hear the heaviness attached to the words. “It was quick,” he added hastily. “The whole thing was over in maybe 3 years.”
That was a long time. She couldn’t imagine there was anything fast about it.
“Has there been anyone since then?”
“It’s only been a year and a half since she …”
“Died.”
“Britta,” he addressed her sharply. “That is your name?”
“Yes.”
“There can’t be anyone else. Not now, not ever.”
“Surely, your wife would want you to move on with your life.”
“She would,” his voice cracked. “She was the most selfless person I’ve ever known.”
“Tell me, Jeff, what was so special about her?”
He chuckled, but it was labored, laden in grief. “How long is your show?”
“I’m sure she was a wonderful person.” Britta wasn’t a softy, like Annie, but she had her moments. “But isn’t it possible there is someone out there for you and Jonah?”
“No,” he answered flatly. “No one gets that lucky twice in one lifetime.”
“Love isn’t left up to chance,” Britta offered.
“God,” he sighed, almost like he was talking to him directly. “There were a million little things that added up between us. And when they fell into place, they made her my perfect fit. It was like … magic.”
“What? How many people are waiting?” Britta interjected abruptly. “I’m sorry, Jeff. Our phone lines are going crazy. Can you hold?”
“I suppose. But Jonah needs to get to bed. It’s Christmas.”
A string of female callers filled the air waves. Apparently, Tinder was not every single woman’s go-to for finding a mate.
By the time Britta cut back to Jeff, he’d hung up, and Annie was almost home. In fact, she missed her exit completely, and it took her an extra 10 minutes to get back to Greendale.
Climbing into her bed, she couldn’t get them out of her mind.
Her life was headed for that happily-ever-after.
And somewhere in the world beyond the storybook ending, that fairy tale was blown apart for some young boy and his father.
There was no such thing as an everlasting and perfect love. Perhaps it couldn’t compete with the idealized version written by people, played by actors, and set to music.
This man seemed to have it. She supposed it was possible it existed. Somewhere for some people. Why else did everyone keep looking for it if it wasn’t attainable?
What she had, though, was a man who loved her and a future. The fundamentals were there.
It wasn’t picture-perfect, but it was her story.
The man on the radio and Irene Stephenson had something in common. They saw the signs, and they were sharing their wisdom with her.
In her limited experience, people didn’t get endless chances at happiness. Annie was determined to get her one and only shot at it right.