She wasn’t expecting a Christmas gift. He was at school on an athletic swimming scholarship and never had much money. Their romance seemed unlikely. He was a Midwestern kid with hair like straw from too much chlorine. His eyes reminded her of the Caribbean sky. She arrived at college her freshman year straight from New York with a suitcase stuffed full of designer clothes. With her dark hair and eyes, she was his opposite. No one would mistake her for an athlete. They had almost nothing in common except a shared sense of not belonging.   

            They fell for each other hard, but being in love was new to them and they often fought about inconsequential things. They were better alone instead of trying to negotiate their feelings within the complex cliques of campus life. They spent their afternoons squeezed into his twin bed on the top bunk when he was certain his three roommates were at class.

            In the days before Christmas break, he had a white box tied with a ribbon waiting for her in his dorm room. She stopped by and he gave her the present matter-of-factly. She opened the box and took out a teddy bear. The bear was covered in tan fur with white patches on his muzzle and belly. His nose was made from felted brown plastic and a strand of gold yarn gave him a smile. His fur felt like velvet against her skin.

            “My sister told me all girls love teddy bears,” he said.

            He looked unsure. Maybe he imagined she was used to getting jewelry from boys. She loved the bear, but she would have loved anything he gave her.

            At the end of the school year, she transferred to another university. They kept in touch but the fierce connection of freshman year was hard to maintain. New girlfriends and boyfriends intruded into their lives. Still, she would never turn him away when he showed up for a visit.

            After college, they lost contact. The momentum of life pulled her along. There was grad school, career, new boyfriends, eventually a husband and finally children. She kept the bear through all the moves to numerous apartments and houses. Twenty-two years later, the bear sat ignored on the top shelf of her walk-in-closet sandwiched between straw beach hats and out-of-season handbags. 

            One day, her five-year-old daughter discovered the bear staring down at her while playing in her mother’s closet.

            “Where did that teddy bear come from?  Can I have him?" she asked her mother.

“He’s mine,” she said as she handed the bear to her daughter. “You can play with him, but you have to promise to be careful. This came from a special friend of mine . . . a boyfriend.”

 “Daddy?” her daughter asked.

“No. Before Daddy.”

Her daughter’s eyes widened and she nodded. She looked at the bear appraisingly; his white belly was now grey and his fur matted. The brown felt nose had been rubbed off,  leaving a white plastic nub in its place. After a moment, the little girl let out a mischievous laugh, hugged the bear to her face, and ran off without bothering to look back.