Page 30 of Storybook Christmas

“I’m sorry,” she repeats before taking a sip, a distant look in her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybethat’swhy—Mom dumped you on me at age seven. I was resentful. You arrived as the spoiled baby, mucking up my perfectly established family of three.”

“Eleanor,” I whisper in disbelief. “You never told me that before. You never acted as if you felt that way, either.”

“I loved you with all my heart, Lacy. Istilllove you with all my heart—you’re my baby, too.” She sighs. “But I guess deep down, I feel like I missed out on some of my childhood. That’s why I thought I didn’t want children. So, when I accidentally got pregnant, these big feelings resurfaced.”

“And you pulled away.”

“I didn’t mean to.” She puts her hand on my shoulder. “I was torn up inside, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t handle it well.”

“I can empathize with that.”

A heaviness takes over Eleanor’s face. “I wanted to tell you—so much, Lace. But I was scared.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s because I felt guilty—like I was replacing you.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Eleanor, I’m all grown now.”

“I know, it doesn’t make sense, logically.” Her eyes well with tears. “I cry now, by the way. Alot, so you have to get used to it.”

“It’ll be weird, but I’ll try.” I flash her a wink.

“So, at my twelve-week ultrasound, when my baby was more than just a blob on the screen, I wanted her—and I don’t know if it’s a her for sure, but Ifeelit. Anyway, I wanted her more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life.”

“That’s how you’re supposed to feel, big sister.” I put my hand over hers on my shoulder.

Eleanor reaches down and pulls an ultrasound photo out of her purse before handing it to me. “Here she is.”

I stare at it—this grape-sized person who’s going to be my niece or nephew. Not wanting to question Eleanor’s motherly instincts, I say, “She’s beautiful.” And oddly, I mean it, even though I know I can’t possibly tell that by the grainy, black-and-white silhouette photo of a mini human. But she’s beautiful tome.

Eleanor’s eyes mist. “She is, isn’t she?”

My sister and I hug for a long time, and it soothes a little piece of my heartache. We need each other, we always have, and we especially need each other now.

When we pull away, I squeeze her hand. “You know why I love Christmas?”

“It’s certainly not because of the ham Mom tries to make.”

We both laugh. Mom isnota cook, but at Christmas, she thinks it’s her duty to become one. She over-salts and burns the ham, and at this point, we’ve given up on trying to help her. My smile fades. “It’s because of you. Every Christmas, you’d sit down and play with me and all my new toys. You’d even let me be the hero, not the sidekick.”

“I did do that, didn’t I?”

“Yes. You always took great care of me, but on Christmas, you made me feel like I was the most special kid in the world.”

“You are, Lacy.”

I fight off tears. “You’re going to make an amazing mother, Eleanor.”

She pulls me into another hug, and I hear her sniffling in my ear. “I needed to hear that, Lace,” she squeaks out. “So much.”

I rub her back, and when she pulls away, I hand her a tissue.

“Thank you.” She dabs her eyes.

A quiet moment passes, and I take it in, so glad to be having a heart-to-heart with my sister again. Then I take a deep inhale before I say, “So, I might be fired.”

“Oh, baby sister.” She sighs. “I’m so, so sorry.” She takes both of my hands in hers. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but that company is the worst. I’m kind of relieved, actually.”

---