Page 16 of Ten Christmases Without You
Whenever she saw a dress she liked, she wondered if her mother had designed it. When Emmy’s parents married, her mother gave away the few designs she’d made. The only dress left was the one from Baudelaire’s. Emmy had been left to wonder what happened to her mother’s other designs.
“Would you like to try it on?” the woman asked.
“Oh, um. No. That’s okay. But thank you,” Emmy said. “I was just window shopping.” She peered past the dress to the street. Santa had gone. Emmy held up her bag of sushi. “I should probably head home for dinner.”
“All right,” the woman said. “Have a good night.”
“Thank you.”
As she headed home, Santa’s comment floated back to her:The holidays are short. Make the most of them. Another Christmas will be gone before you know it.In five days, eleven Christmases would have come and gone without her mom, and she recalled what she’d promised herself: that she’d make this Christmas better. Last year, the holiday had ended, and she’d shuffled back into work. The next thing she knew, another year had passed. She was leaving to go home in two days. She would do her best to make this holiday great.
Emmy arrived at her narrow apartment and shut the door behind her. She lumped the bag of sushi on the dinette set by the window and unwound her scarf. Then she shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of the chair. The space felt too quiet, so she clicked on the radio and tuned it to a station playing holiday music.
She pulled a plate from the cabinet and dished the sushi, putting her plate next to her sketchbook, which she opened to her latest sketch: a flocked polka-dot tulle mini-dress with puffed sleeves and a high neckline. She’d been drawing all year, and her confidence had grown.
As she sat down, her phone buzzed from the pocket of her coat, and she remembered the text that she’d never answered. She fished out the phone, along with the mints Akari had given her. Unwrapping a mint in one hand, she unlocked the screen with the other.
Hey. It’s Charlie. Long time no chat. I’m coming home to Tennessee for Christmas in a couple days. Will you be there?
A swell of excitement filled her, making her smile.
After Christmas last year, Madison had given Emmy’s number to Charlie over a work call. Emmy and Charlie had exchanged a few texts since then, but nothing much. He’d texted her once to tell her that the deli he’d stopped into had orange-flavored chocolates at the register. Both she and her mom had always loved orange-flavored chocolate. It had made him think of her. Another time, he’d asked if she knew anyone who needed football tickets. He had two for the Bears and the Giants. Down with the flu, he couldn’t go and was struggling to get rid of them.
She popped the cool mint into her mouth and texted back that she’d also be there in two days. She wasn’t nearly as dismayed at the thought of going home as she had been last year. Perhaps because she knew Charlie would be there. When he was around, Christmas with her family wasn’t so bad.
Her phone pinged.
See you then.
Suddenly, Santa’s suggestion to make the most of the holiday felt a little easier.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next morning, filled with hope for a better holiday, Emmy thumbed through the clothes in her closet, packing her favorites. She grabbed a couple of casual button-down shirts and a few pairs of jeans and draped them on the bed. Then she flipped through the remaining clothes, making sure she had everything she wanted to take with her. She pushed the last few hanging items to the side and ran her hand down the sheet of plastic protecting her mother’s dress.
She’d worked with Madison to gently pack it into her suitcase last year, and she’d hung it up right away when she’d gotten home, to keep it from wrinkling. She hadn’t seen her mother make this dress, but it was so much like her. The unfussy neckline and delicate hemming made Emmy feel as if her mother had breathed her own life into it. She took hold of the sleeve, wishing her mom’s arm was somehow inside, reaching out to embrace her.
Her mother’s cancer had been relatively quick, which had been a blessing and a curse. She’d barely suffered, the diagnosis came late enough that by the time she’d wrapped her head around it, she was too sick to do much. But it also meant that Emmy wasn’t given a lot of time to prepare for life without hermom. And to lose her favorite person at the young age of fifteen was a blow that Emmy wasn’t sure she’d ever fully recovered from. Just as she was becoming a woman, she’d lost the one person who could show her how to be one.
I wish I had a better report for you, Mom, she thought.This year hasn’t been much different from last year—it sort of got away from me. But I’m going to try to enjoy our family this year, the way you always did. Help me out if you can. I’m not as good at it as you were.
Emmy and her mom had a special bond. Her mom had told her more than once that she would achieve great things, that she could do anything she wanted if she was willing to work hard enough for it. Had Emmy done something to sabotage her life?
She turned around and peered down at the pile of clothes on her bed. The outfit options looked as drab as her apartment. Perhaps she should scrape up a little money and get herself something new to wear? She still had a bit of the Christmas money her dad had given her that she hadn’t used for her flights. The rest, she was saving for rent. She also had to get a White Elephant gift for family Christmas, and she wanted to do better this year. After all, she would be seeing Charlie again.
With new resolve, Emmy grabbed her handbag, put on her coat, scarf, and sneakers, and left her apartment. On the busy street, she wrapped her scarf tighter and braved the frigid wind on her walk to the small shopping district a couple blocks away. The shop windows immediately put her in the Christmas spirit. She’d been so busy with Vivienne’s errands that she hadn’t really been able to take in the full splendor of the holidays yet.
Emmy came to a stop in front of the cosmetics shop and went inside. She maneuvered through busy customers until she found a section of cheek color and lip glosses. She hadn’t treated herself to new makeup in years. Finding the right colors was likecreating a good marketing campaign. It was all about how to highlight the best bits and hide the worst.
There were so many options... She unscrewed a few testers and swiped varying shades of lip gloss on the back of her hand, assessing them. Maybe she’d get a couple shades and see which one looked best. After grabbing two or three, she bent down to view the price—twenty-fivedollars? She put them back.
“May I help you find something?” asked a woman with a pixie cut, perfect brows, and thick eyelashes.
“Oh, I... I’m on the hunt for some new makeup that works with my coloring, but I don’t have a lot to spend.”
“Best value—got it. Follow me.”
Emmy followed the woman to the back corner of the store.
