Page 147 of Under Your Scars
I rub my thumb over her cheekbone before standing. I throw on my dirty shirt and go to our bedroom to shower. Once clean, I get dressed and meet her in the study like she told me to.
When I get there, she’s sitting at a table with Edwin, helping him with the border of one of his puzzles. He’s wheezing hard, like every breath he takes seems to cause him pain. I lock eyes with him and look down at the floor in shame.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my throat burning slightly from the distaste of an apology. I never liked apologizing.
Edwin blinks at me. “For what?” he asks, his Irish accent extra gravelly from the phlegm in his chest and throat. My eyes glance over to Elena, and she gives me a flat-lined smile, and shakes her head.
And now I feel like more of a dick, because I tarnished his last lucid moments together with anger.
I’ve always taken him for granted.
Silently, I take a seat at the table with them, and help them with the puzzle border.
On Christmas Eve, I wake up with Elena’s side of the bed ice cold. My first instinct is that something’s wrong. That she’s had a nightmare and is hiding somewhere in the mansion with her wrists slit.
I get out of bed immediately and shrug on a shirt before practically sprinting out of my room. When I get to the foyer of the mansion, my senses are hit with woodsmoke and peppermint, and horrid, mind-numbing Christmas carols floating through the house. My floors are covered in shopping bags and tissue paper, along with a long, rectangular box.
I can hear giggles and conversation coming from the main living area. When I round the corner, I’m hit with an odd feeling in my chest. My heart swells with something that I can only describe as domestic bliss.
There’s a large Christmas tree set up in the middle of the room. Elena’s on her butt decorating the bottom of it. On the other side of the tree, Bethany is decorating the top. Edwin is sitting at a small table attempting to glue two sides of a gingerbread house together with frosting.
I stay quiet and lean against a column and watch the three of them, lost in their own little bubble of holiday cheer.
I finally make myself known and pad into the room, going straight to Elena and squatting next to her to place a kiss to the top of her head. “What’s all this, angel?”
Bethany peeks out from behind the tree. “Elena said you didn’t own a Christmas tree, and I said that was unacceptable, so we’ve been working hard to keep you from being such a grinch. With the help of your credit card, of course.”
I laugh. “I’m not a grinch! I just…never cared about Christmas after my parents died.”
Bethany sighs and gives me a sympathetic look. “Well I’m going to make you care! So put yourself to work and use that height of yours to decorate the top of the tree!”
“Yes ma’am.” I give her a big hug. “It’s nice to see you, Bethany. Where’s Elliot?” I ask, noting his absence.
“Being a grinch,” Bethany mumbles to herself, and I don’t bother pressing the issue, pleased with the fact that he’s not here. I go back to my room to brush my teeth and then pour myself a cup of coffee in the kitchen before rejoining Elena, Bethany, and Edwin in the living room.
I’m no good at decorations, but I put the star on top of the tree because I’m the only one who can reach without a ladder. That’s got to be worth something.
It’s raining outside, pretty heavily, but it adds a nice ambiance to the room. I haven’t felt this…content in a long time. I guess the absence of family has made me so numb to the simple joys in life. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit that decorating this damn tree made the list of my favorite memories this year.
Once the tree is decorated to Bethany’s standards, she grabs two presents from under the tree and shoves one in my hand and gently places the other in front of Edwin. I stand there, awkwardly staring at the neatly wrapped box. Edwin and I don’t do gifts. It isn’t a thing for us.
Bethany clicks her tongue. “Well? Open them! I’m leaving soon and I want to see you two open your Christmas presents from me before I go.”
My eye twitches in Edwin’s direction, and he takes one for the team and opens his first. The three of us watch him carefully as he tears through the paper.
Inside, a 5,000-piece puzzle that’s completely white, making it extra challenging. Edwin’s face lights up like the star on top of the tree. He shoves the pitiful attempt at a gingerbread house to the floor. It lands with a ‘plop’, and he immediately dumps out all 5,000 pieces of the puzzle and gets to work, exclaiming proudly that he'll finish it by New Years and starts giggling like old people do until he gives himself a coughing fit.
Bethany turns to me. “Your turn, Christian.”
With a deep breath, I tear into the small package. When I lift the lid of the black box, sitting against red tissue paper is a Christmas ornament. It’s a sleek black circle with a small golden plaque at the bottom with the year etched into it. In the center, a family photo that we all took together at the wedding. I lift the ornament out of the box and hold it up by the delicate golden ribbon. It spins, revealing a message etched onto the back.
“Family’s First Christmas”
I clutch the small ornament carefully in my fist and take two long strides across the room to Bethany, pulling her into a tight hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper to her, quiet enough that only she can hear it, and when I finally let her go, I place the ornament right in the center of the tree, so that every time I walk by, I’ll remember what it feels like to have a family.
It’s Christmas Day.
