Page 66 of The Christmas Box

He manages to squeeze my hand, just a little, and the look on his face is one of peace.

We watch the rest of the movie in silence and I’m drawn back in to the uplifting story I haven’t seen in so many years. Same as when I was a kid and would lie on the couch watching the story unfold, Mom and Dad in their easy chairs nearby, my heart swells at the end when George finds out how many people love him.

As the credits roll, I say to Dad, “Well, looks like Clarence got his wings again and George is still the richest guy in town.”

I glance over—only his eyes are shut now, and an odd sort of breath leaves him, and it’s his last. I can’t explain how I know this, but I do. He’s gone.

Emotion floods me as I sit there gaping at him. Because death suddenly doesn’t make sense to me. We all know about death. Logically, we get it. But when it happens right in front of your eyes, it’s harder to comprehend. He was right here, talking to me, just minutes ago. Where is he now?

But then I remember I’m supposed to go get one of the nurses. I rush from the room and find Helen at the nurse’s station. “He’s gone.”

She looks up, clearly as surprised as she was a couple of hours ago when he was suddenly awake, then grabs a stethoscope and starts toward his room. I follow but keep my distance as she feels for a pulse, then bends over him, pressing the stethoscope to his heart while she watches a clock on the wall.

It’s a long, strange minute as the clock’s second hand turns, and when finally she says, “Time of death, ten-oh-two,” I let out a heavy sigh and I feel like I can’t breathe. I need to get out of the room.

Leaving, I literally bump into Gabbi, who’s walking an elderly woman up the hall, holding her arm to steady her.

“Sorry,” I say.

She can see it in my face. “Oh—is he…?”

I just nod. I’m out of words.

“I’m so sorry, Travis,” she tells me, pulling me into a tight, warm hug.

I barely know her, but I let her, my thoughts swirling, my heart reeling.

Yet that’s when I feel something against my butt, and I begin to realize the old woman with Gabbi is taking my cell phone from my back pocket.

I pull free from the hug and snatch the phone back—not as nicely as I could, but damn, she caught me at a bad moment. And no matter how hard I’ve worked to be nice and understanding to the residents here, it’s still a hard place to be. And the person I was here for all this time is dead. I don’t have to be here anymore. And I don’twantto be here anymore. So what am I waiting for?

Just like that, I start for the door. Helen can do the rest. I know what happens now—she calls the funeral home and they come and get him, that simple. I’m done. Because suddenly this is all…Just. Too. Much. The world doesn’t make sense.

Has it ever, for me? Up, down, up, down. Love, hate, leaving, rebuilding. And then these past few weeks…love again.

Damn, that’s the last thing I expected. Love. And now he’s gone.

Why bother loving someone if they’re just gonna leave you? This time it wasn’t Dad’s fault—it was no one’s fault—but he’s still gone, and I’m left holding the bag of experiencing that strange, awful void.

As I emerge through the front doors and the cold air hits my face, it feels like escape. Like freedom.

Like I don’t have to care anymore, or worry anymore.

Of course, I do still care. Something inside me is breaking. Why did I have to let myself get attached to him again these last few weeks? What was I thinking? I mean, I already know what comes from trusting in relationships. You end up alone. Every. Single. Time. In one way or another, everyone always leaves.

Snow falls thick and heavy, but I barely register the wetness on my face as I trudge through several fresh inches to my truck. It’s covered in deep snow, too, but I get in, start it, use the wipers to clear the windshield. I crank up the heat, then pull my phone out and call Wally.

It goes to voicemail. Great. One more person who can’t be counted on when I need him. Guess he’s having a festive Christmas Eve with Edie and their kids—my cousins probably flew to Florida for the holiday. Well, merry freaking Christmas to your big, happy family.

I leave a message. “Dad’s dead. I did my duty, and now I’m gone, outta here, back to my real life.”

Lexi

Outside, a heavy blanket of white piles up on Main Street, but in my apartment, a fire crackles at the small hearth across the room. I sit on the couch in my coziest red sweater, Crinkle Bear perched next to me as we await our visitor.

I have mugs ready for hot chocolate, and a tray of cookies from the bakery rests on the coffee table next to a pine-scented candle. Beside the fireplace, my Christmas tree gives off a happy glow. And inside, Ifeela happy glow.

I can’t believe Travis’s father actually rebounded! And I know the end will still come soon, but if he makes it through Christmas…well, that’s just one more reason for Travis not to hate it anymore.

---