Merry Christmas to all, and to all a short story

            Colin smiled broadly. George stayed on his feet, and Colin handed him a cigarette and lighter. "How was your Christmas, Mr. Thomas?"
            "Very nice, my boy, very nice. My sons and grandchildren came to visit, and that's all I could want for Christmas. How about yourself?"
            Colin pursed his lips and tapped some ash in the snow. "It was aright. I spend holidays at my dad's house."
            "Ah yes, and how is your father?"
            "He's good, I guess. He's got a new girlfriend from work. She's ten years younger than him."
            "Oh, I see, and I guess you don't like her too much."
            Colin sighed and twirled his finger in the snow. "She's ok. I mean, there's nothing wrong with her. I just don't think they're right for each other. I don't think she'll stick around."
            "You know, my father died when I was a few years younger than you, and I hated the man my mother was with after him. My pop was sick in bed for five months, and she supported him in every way. Had no life for herself that whole time, just took care of him. I thought she was a helluva woman and a helluva wife. You know what happened when he died? The doctor moved in with us. They had an affair behind his back while he was waiting to die."
            "Goddamn."
            "Goddamn is right." George stopped himself, realizing he was nearly shouting. "Sorry, my boy. I haven't thought about these things in a long, long time. Years."
            "So you had to live with that bastard?"
            George was quiet for a moment. He was feeling his youth again. He remembered with sadness how much anger had brewed inside of him. You go years without waking these memories, memories which you've made peace with and put behind you. But you open up that vault, and all of the heat comes rushing into your face and it's disconserting that you still don't have control over the anger. "Yes, he stayed for one year, and I never spoke a word to him. He left because of me. That was all I had wanted, but when he finally left I was still mad. I didn't forgive my mother until years after I'd left home. I forgave, but I never understood."
            "Well, I'm sorry about all that, Mr. Thomas. That's some nasty shit."
            George smiled. "Deep in the past, Colin, deep in the past. Old men learn to let such things go. Life is too short to waste time on bad old memories. Say, isn't that your mother's car?"
            Colin's head popped up and looked down the street. He quickly put out his cigarette and piled some snow on top of it. His mother pulled up alongside of them. "Hi George, how are you?" 
            "Very well, thank you. Did you have a good Christmas, Ellen?"
            "It was lovely, thank you George. Colin, I didn't just see you putting out a cigarette, did I?"
            Colin looked shocked and told his mother that she absolutely did not see that. She turned to George and quizzically raised an eyebrow. 
            "Don't worry, Ellen, he's telling the truth."
            Ellen smiled back. "Well, ok then. Nice to see you, George."
            As she backed up and pulled into the driveway, George and Colin shared an awkward silence. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way. Good to see you, my boy."
            "Yeah you too, Mr. Thomas. And thanks. I appreciate that."
            George nodded and smiled. "Don't mention it. I was sixteen once too, you know."