Looking around and absorbing the total quiet, Polly Kruse, Pauline, held her breath. It was involuntary. Of course, she was used to quiet in the library, where she was the head librarian, but during these Christmas holiday hours the library was normally pretty much deserted.

She shook her head, realizing that it was, for her right then, to be expected. This had been the year when both her Momma and her Poppa had gone. She'd been taking such good care of them for the past year to year and a half and they went, fairly quickly, one after the other.

It was like a fairy tale romance with both of the romantic partners, who'd shared a life with each other for over fifty years, passing on within a day of each other.

In the past, Polly had always made sure that the holidays were festive for Mom and Dad. Her Mom, Suzie, had especially liked the holidays and all the fuss.

It was the fussing that Polly had inherited from Suzie and she became, for a number of years, the one who was in charge of the fussing.

But this past year, her Dad, Ray, had gotten sick first and the seriousness of the sickness had 'infected' Suzie right away. So that Polly watched them both fade, loving each other to the very end, and making plans and promises to meet in the dimension of God's love, wherever that might take them.

It was a touching scene to be sure but it left Polly, whose times and days were now her own, at loose ends. Those 'loose ends' were not as totally and clearly apparent until she started to come face to face with the holidays.

Polly Kruse, never married, had been a late life baby for Suzie and Ray Kruse. From that time on, it had been the three of them, always the three of them. As though it were the three of them against the world.

There were simply so many dimensions to the situation that Polly was now realizing that she missed.

"Don't dwell on it now, girl," she said to herself, a bit sharply. "Or you'll be crying here and now."

She looked around then and said: "Though there isn't anyone here to see you cry. The library at Christmas time is a desolate enough place."

She was even thinking of maybe closing down a little early. She just wasn't sure.

Polly Kruse was 34 years old that year, the year that she lost Momma and Poppa. She was a bit over weight, at least for her height of 5'4". She was, really though, somewhat plump but a physical treat for anyone not seeking society's image of a thin, hipless, boob-less model type. Polly had curves and softness to go with those curves but she was, and even she admitted this, languishing. And now it was Christmas and the library was empty and she was heading for the dumps, big time.

She woke herself from her reverie and gave herself a message to simply do the 'look around'. It might be early but she'd make sure that there wasn't anyone 'lurking' anywhere.

She went into the reading room that would lead her to the stacks and was surprised to find someone there.

Ken Koffelt was doing some odd research. He usually did. He was a library fan and was always in search of more information about this and that, about whatever might cross his mind at any given time. He had an insatiable appetite for information and the library gave him ample opportunity to indulge that appetite.

Ken was a sergeant on the police force. He'd been a cop for a good 15 years. It was something, like his attitude about the library, that he simply loved.

He remembered that as a kid he was always taken with policemen and told any and all, who might listen to him, that he wanted, when he grew up, to be a policeman too.

He followed his dream and joined the city force, once he was out of school, high school and college. For him, for Ken Koffelt, it was like living a dream. He rose, during the years, to the position of sergeant and was not only satisfied with that but found it to be a source of absolute joy.

He lived alone with his loving cat Wanda. His Mom and Dad were both gone now and had, in their passing, left Ken with enough resources to be able to retire comfortably any time that he wished.

He'd talked to Wanda about that possibility and they had agreed that he'd keep working, even though he didn't really need the income from the job.

Ken was a big man; he was 6'5" in his stocking feet and ranged between 225 lbs and 240 lbs. He was a workout fiend and made sure that he kept himself in good shape, both for the job and for himself and his image of himself.

He had good handiwork skills that he'd gotten, growing up from his Dad and had, for years, been rehabbing the large, three story house where he and Wanda lived. He'd gotten to the point with the project where it was almost finished to his satisfaction.

"Almost done, Wanda girl," he'd recently said to his adoring cat. "What do you think we should do, when this project is finished?"

Wanda, apparently aware that she was being spoken to made her cat noises and Ken said: "Yes, I agree. We need to look around for a new project.We still have the one room but I've kind of been keeping that for 'her'; whoever 'her" is."

Ken was solitary enough that he spent the holidays, since Mom and Dad were gone, with himself and his loving Wanda. He never really let the solitude bother him terribly. He loved to put up a tree, trim it and put around some festive decorations.

His attitude, though alone with Wanda, was almost totally opposite of that of Polly Kruse's.

It was several days before the actual Christmas holiday and he had some thoughts about saints and saints days that he wanted to track down, so he went, as was his frequent custom, to the library.

He found it fairly deserted, except for the librarian, Polly.

If he were honest with himself, and he didn't try to kid himself too much about these things, he had a kind of sweet spot for this Polly. He'd already talked to Wanda about it on numerous occasions.

"Bet she'll be there," he said to Wanda, as he left to go to the library to track down some saints.

He buried himself, after saying 'Hi' to Polly the librarian, in a side room and began his research on his latest interest. He was there for the better part of an hour, when he heard a great amount of noise and clattering.

He got up from his table and went to the main desk area, where he found Polly and another young woman trying to deal with what looked like an obstreperous, fairly drunk student.

"Now, Ronnie," the woman was saying, calmly, to the guy. "Let's go. You're making too much noise in the library."

"Yes," Polly said, coming out from behind the desk. "You'd better go."

"No one's gonna make me leave..." the guy, bigger than either woman, said.

It was just then that Ken entered the area from the side room, where he'd been doing his research.

"Hey, pal," he said brightly.

The drunk took the greeting to mean that the person was a friend of his.

"Hey," he said to Ken, who was still in his uniform.

"You the guard?" the kid wanted to know.

"Naw," Ken said affably, "Local cop."

"Arresting?" the guy wanted to know, sticking out his chin as though in challenge.

"Nope," Ken said, "Just doing some studying."

"Cool," the kid said, as he and his girlfriend were ushered out of the library by Ken.

The guy sat on the steps and wasn't going to move. The girl was trying to get him to go. Ken went back into the library and said to a very grateful Polly: "I'll be back as soon as I get the partier home."

She gave him a huge smile and a kiss on the cheek and said: "Thank you, Ken."

"Yes," Ken said, pleased that she remembered his name.

He got his coat and exited from the library. The couple was still there.

"I don't think I can get him home," the girl said. "He's really not this way. Party and all."

"Let's go, pal," Ken said to the kid, picking him up from his perch on the steps.

"It's my guardian," the kid said with a grin.

"Yep," Ken said, "Let's go home."

"Home, James," the kid said pointing the way and wandering off down the walk, supported by Ken to keep him from falling.

It took only a little while but they did get the kid home and delivered him to some friends who agreed to take him into the dorm and deposit him in his bed.

When that was accomplished, Ken turned to the girl, who gave him a hug and said a very sincere "Thank you."

She had left her bag at the library and they walked back to the library to fetch it. Polly was there and was waiting, knowing that Ken said he'd be back.

The girl fetched her bag and gave Ken a cheek kiss, before going off to her own dorm.

She turned to Polly, as she was leaving and said: "Make sure you keep this guy; he's worth it!"

It left Ken kind of blushing and Polly giggling and blushing a bit also.

When the girl had wandered off, Polly herself gave Ken a hug and said: "Guardian!"

He smiled at her, leaning back from the hug and said: "Serving and protecting here."

"You were so nice about that!" Polly said. "So nice."

Ken decided to press his advantage then: "Can I ask you out for a drink?" He was on pins and needles, as he said it.

"You know," Polly said, "I think that I'd like that. Tough night with the reveler and all, but it's also the time of year. Kind of gives me the shivers."

"Really?" Ken said, "Well, let's see if we can do anything about that."

Ken and Polly had certainly seen each other at the library any number of times. Ken had, at that time, as we've said, a soft spot for Polly and this incident seemed to be playing directly into his hands, so to speak.

They went off companionably to the back of the library, where their cars were parked in the library lot. Ken had his own Jeep instead of the patrol car that he sometimes drove.

Polly giggled, as they approached Ken's car. "Thought you might be going to put me in the back seat like your prisoner," she said.

"Not a bad idea, at that!" Ken replied and got more of a giggle from Polly.

GETTING TO KNOW POLLY:

At this point in their individual lives both Ken and Polly were pretty much casualties of the kind of lives they'd led. They were now solitary individuals. Ken lived with his pal Wanda alone in his big house. It had been his Mom and Dad's home and he'd rehabbed it himself. It was large, at times he thought, too large but he loved it still.

It had always been the police force and taking care of Mom and Dad for him. Those had been his contexts. There were dates but Ken was, up until this point, a pretty solitary guy.

Polly's situation was so much the same that it was a strange thing. She'd been the care giver for her Mom and Dad and apart from that, it had been the library.

She often enough thought that it was because she was overweight that she wasn't shown interest by any men. It was her message to herself.

The outcome of these parallel living styles was an ennui where the holidays were concerned. Ken still made an effort and decorated a tree, though Polly had decided that she just wouldn't bother. Her message to herself was: "This year I'm simply going to ignore the holidays. It'll be favorite food and tv movies for me, and no Christmas carols playing in the background.

When they reached her car, Polly said a soft 'thank you' to Ken for his help.

"I know it's silly but I never know when one of those encounters is going to go wrong and cause problems. It was nice to have the police around," she said.

"Yes, doing his research about saints of the Church at the library," he replied.

Then, in what for him was a stretch of courage, he asked her: So, out for a drink?"

She was pleased by his offer. She was not only grateful to him but had always thought him a rather handsome man, a big handsome man. The offer kind of turned a light on in her life immediately.

She gave him a smile and said: "Yes, I think that I'd like that."

They went together in his Jeep. Their destination was the place that he often went for a drink. It was called 'Shane's Shack'. It was a kind of neighborhood tavern/pub.

As soon as they walked into the place. A large man, behind the bar, sang out: "Ok, everyone put the drugs away. It's the cops."

Ken grinned and said: "Hey, Shane."

"Hey, copper!" the big man replied.

When they were at a table, Shane approached and said: "Ma'am, I just have to warn you... '

Ken broke in and said: "Ok Shane, easy enough; I'll make a call and we'll pull a raid on this place tonight!"

Shane made a display of putting on a long face and said: "Just trying to have some fun."

He stuck his hand up in the air and Ken gave him a high five.

"Shane, this is pretty Polly Kruse the librarian."

"Polly," Shane said, "It's a pleasure. Especially when someone as lovely as you brightens Ken's normal dismal countenance."

"Shane!" Ken said and Shane held up a hand and said: "Ok, I'll be good. What'll it be. It's on me."

"Stout," Ken said.

"A rhine wine, if you have it," Polly said.

"Got it," Shane said, grinning, as he walked away.

"This is so nice of you," Polly said, once Shane had gone to get their drinks.

Ken gave her a wide smile and said: "It's all my pleasure."

They got their drinks and spent the next half hour talking about themselves.

On his part, Ken was tickled to be out with Polly. For her it was a matter of feeling, fairly right away, a kind of comfort level with him that prompted her to talk about herself.

They did get around to talking about the holidays that were coming. They both showed an agreement about the holidays not being a favorite time, though it really seemed as though the holidays were for Polly more of a problem. For Ken it was more like a time for subdued celebration, rather than a time to be dreaded, which it was for her.

"I don't know," she said, at one point, "I sometimes think that I need a kind of Scrooge experience, you know, Ghost of Christmas or someone to visit me and set my attitude straight."

The thought struck Ken and he realized that he liked the idea very much.

He then explained that the holidays were quiet times for him and Wanda.

"Wanda?" she asked.

"My tabby; she's my pal at home. We live in Mom and Pop's big, big house. I've rehabbed it and it's lovely but we rattle around in it like dried peas in a pod."

"Sounds nice," she said. "Once Mom and Dad died, I didn't want the house, and moved to the apartment. It's small but fine for just me. There are times that I miss a bigger house but it certainly helped me get over a bad patch in my life."

"I'm sorry, Polly," he said, "I need to get home to Wanda. She's been alone for the day."

"Nice the way you take care of her, and thank you for your help and for such a nice treat tonight. I appreciate it," she concluded.

They went back to the library, after saying a 'good night' to Shane, with a hug for him from Ken.

"In for a drink for the two of us for the holidays?" Shane asked.

"You've got it," Ken answered.

"'Hey' to Wanda the magnificent," Shane said then.

"Will do," Ken said, as he walked Polly out the door.

She was feeling somewhat excited by the progress of the entire evening. When they got to his car, she simply, before getting into the car, put her arms around his neck and held onto him.

"Don't let go right away," She said.

"Don't intend to," was his reply.

"Wanda has taught you right," She said, her head against his chest at the shoulder."

"You're right about that, and I'd be less than honest if I didn't say right now that you feel absolutely wonderful," he said into her ear.

She looked up at him and smiled, and then kissed him. It was light but it was wonderful for him, as a matter of fact for both of them.

With the kiss, she got into the car and he drove her back to the library. They hugged again at her car and there was one more light kiss.

"If you don't mind," he said, "I'll follow you home; want to make sure you get there okay."

"Thank you," she said, and he did.

VISIT OF THE JOLLEY FAT MAN:

One of Ken's quirks was that he had worked a number of times with a local group of thespians. He wasn't himself an actor but he helped with scenery and, strangely, makeup.

It was this kind of experience that he called up a few days later. He had a santa coat and hat. He used a white wig and gave himself a truly real looking santa beard, glued on with special spirit gum glue.

With his new 'persona' in place, he drove off to Polly's apartment building.

He rang the doorbell and answered her inquiry saying that it was Santa for a visit. She laughed and buzzed him in.

As he got to the second floor, where her apartment was, she opened the door and put her hand to her mouth and giggled into her hand.

Just then there was a ringing cry, in the stairwell: "Santa!"

The little girl from the floor above was coming down the steps with her Momma, when she saw Ken.

"Mommie," the little girl said, "It's Santa! Santa!"

Ken turned to her and said: "Hi, love."

The little girl was in his arms immediately.

"Oh, Santa," she said.

As he held her he said to her in a soft voice: "Do you know what Santa wants to tell you today?"

"What?" the excited little girl said.

"Santa wants you to know that your Mommie is the best friend that you'll ever, ever have," he said.

The mother smiled and the little girl hugged him around the neck.

As he set her down, he said: "And look what I have here."

He reached into his pocket, as he said it and pulled out a large dark chocolate bar, giving it to the little girl. With another hug, the little girl and he Mom went down the stairs, with the little girl still exclaiming about meeting Santa Claus.

"Well, Santa," Polly said "Come in, come in."

"Hi," he said.

"Didn't know that Santa wore a cop uniform!" she said.

"This one does," was his reply.

"Want to kiss a man with a beard," she said. "Might be fake but I'm gonna now."

He was grinning as she move up to him and put her arms around his neck to kiss him. The kiss started soft and only got passionate gradually. She was moving around, as they kissed, and pressing her hips against his thighs.

"Mmmm," he said, "Do you know how to kiss."

"Have to be nice to Santa," she said. "Did you bring things for me?"

"Yes," he said, "Santa always does. You sit here and I'll see what's among my packages for Polly the pretty librarian.

That got her up again and kissing him.

"You say things like that and I'll continue to kiss you, Santa Baby," she said, lips to lips.

She sat on her couch again and Ken began reaching into the bag of packages that he'd brought.

"Okay," he said, "First there is this." With that he pulled, from the bag, a fully decorated, small Christmas tree.

Polly clapped her hands with glee and exclaimed about how lovely it was. He, meanwhile, took the tree and put it on a table by her window and plugged it in. Now its lights were glowing brightly.

"I love it," Polly said. "It's been so long, since Christmas was ever like this. So long."

"Is now," he said, leaning down and kissing her and brushing his bushy, white beard against her face, getting giggles from her.

"Let me see," he said. "Oh, yes, now this." He pulled some evergreen decorations, complete with colored tree ornaments from the bag and distributed three of them around the room, with Polly looking on and clapping with joy.

"Yes, and the best of all," he said. "There is this."

He pulled from his bag two pair of red, nylon panties, granny style.

When Polly saw what it actually was, she shrieked into her hands.

"Let me explain," he said softly. "I didn't have an extra stocking, so instead you get to hang these panties from your mantle. I have them back to back, so that the leg holes are covered."

She was jumping in her seat now and still clapping, as he showed her the panties that were to be her Christmas stockings for gifts.

He had tape with him and took the panties contraption and taped them to the mantle over her fire place.