A Perfect Christmas Wish

CHAPTER ONE

OCTAVIA

As the clock ticks and the days of December blur into one another, I find myself caught in a whirlwind of holiday madness, and I'm the solo act trying to juggle the spinning plates. Before I get into the story of my life, I have to ask you this. Do you know how a person who was once the love of your life…the one that you would get all wet and hot over now looks so damn ugly that you wish you could take all the pussy and love you gave back? Okay. I can see by the head nod, you have experienced the same sometime in your life. So, now, I can carry on with a bit of background.

I swear, being a single mom is for the birds. I say that even though I’ve been married for over 12 years, in many ways, I was single even then. However, the lack of financial support I was getting has about dried up. Justin's exceptionally skilled in the art of financial vanishing acts. The money he promised for Nova's upkeep. Poof, it disappears faster than you can say "Abracadabra."

Of course, if I was willing to beg, talk sweet, or give up a slice of ass, I’m sure his pockets would open upon my requests, but I just can’t do it. I don’t care how many streams I have to run myself crazy operating, I refuse to give his ass the satisfaction. So, what did his punk ass do once he noticed that fact? Well, what any asshole of a parent would do. He started playing games with the mind and heart of our little girl. He's played more games with our daughter's heart than a deck of cards in a magician's show.

With only 31 days left in the year, I refuse to let her Christmas be ruined by him…not after a full year of broken promises, going without, and low morale all around. At least one good thing that has come out of the year is her clear understanding of the kinda man her father is, and no amount of hoping is going to get us back together as a family. That’s some harsh shit for a 6 year old to digest, I know. Which is why with every fiber of my being, I will make sure Christmas and the entire month of December will be the jolliest shit show this side of the North Pole.

I shake off the tiredness that’s been hounding me all day as I stroll into the living room. I switch off the TV to finally shut up the annoying cartoon that had been playing in the background. I scan the mess of toys and unfolded clothes to decide to let it all sit until tomorrow. On my way towards my home office, I glimpse the heater temperature, make a quick adjustment, and promise myself I will only dedicate an hour or two to work. As soon as I plop down in the chair at my desk, I know I’m lying to myself. The fact that my mind is racing to anything other than work let’s me know I should just throw in the towel. No matter how much I may want to work, this dog is just too damn tired.

I soothe myself by reciting the phrase that says, it’s alright to be still…it’s all right to just be and take time for me. With that agreed, I roll my chair back to glance out the large bay window. Not too much is happening tonight on the street. A thin patch of snow clings to the ground. The wind blowing outside promises there will be more of the white stuff. I smile because this year will be a white Christmas. The images of snow covered roofs, and trees flood my mind to lift my spirits. For the last three years, all we managed to get were flurries. However, ice skating in the square will be extra magical.

“Magic,” I mumble. “I can use a little of that,” I sigh.

Flicking on my cell, I unlock it to review the Amazon wish list I created with all the presents I plan to buy this year. Hopping over to Pinterest, I spend time visualizing the items, places, and activities on my vision board. It’s been rough. However, the year will end on a good note with the new year ushering in a great year of manifestation.

“Please,” I whisper.

Getting to my feet, I press my hands on the cold glass of the bay window. I take note of the few homes on the street that have already decorated. One more thing I’ve passed on in the past, but will be doing this year. I can feel my heart contract then speed up.

“Please,” I lament as I stare into the star studded night. “I have done everything I have been shown and know to do. I have put in the work. I’m willing to walk the line. I have all the gifts and talents…hell even more than many of the people making things happen. All, all I need is the door to open….for all the things I’ve been doing, still doing to take off, blessed to let the abundance to come in…the money, success, ease, joy, peace of mind,…and yeah, even love,” I finally add to my whispered wish on the brightest star I see twikling in the sky.

“Probably a damn airplane,” I figure with a deep eye roll.

“Mama?”

The sound of her voice startles me. Quickly, I close the curtains. I was so deep in lala land, I didn’t even hear her tiptoe into the room.

“You should be in bed,” I point out.

“So should you,” she huffs. “You need your rest. I don’t want a grumpy gus in the morning,” she complains.

“I’m never grumpy,” I grumble.

Crossing the room, I begin to walk her back down the hall back to her room.

“I don’t want to sleep in my bed,” she says while digging her feet into the carpet to slow us down. “My feet get cold.”

“Put on socks.”

“Then my feet will sweat. I need you to keep them warm.”

Narrowing my eyes, I glare into her grinning face.

“Fine,” I concede. “Get into my bed.”

I chuckle at the sight of her skipping away. Oh, if it was that easy. One more lap through the house to check the doors and turn off the lights, I’m ready to call it a day, too. I smile when she nestles into my side.

“Hey?”

“Sleep,” I groan.

“One thing, please,” she begs.

Without waiting for me to respond, she rolls over to lock eyes with me.

When is Santa coming?" she asks, her voice tinged with anticipation.

Lord, the desire to be the bearer of the truth is burning on my tounge. Then again, the world has too many harsh truths waiting for her. Still believing in Santa isn’t that bad.

“Well, Christmas eve,” I answer.

“Yeah, but is he coming?”

Confused, I lean up on my elbow.

“He came last year,” I remind her.

“I know, I know…but last year, he really cheated me. I only got three things from my list. What I’m asking is, will he-“

“Baby, Santa is working long in his shop to get you more things you’ve been asking for this year cuz he knows how good you’ve been.”

“Really? You think?” she gushes. “I have done really good in school and here in the house…with you,” she adds.

“See, so you have nothing to worry about,” I grin. “Other than the fact that I’ve asked you to go to sleep and you’re still yappin’,” I tease.

“Alright, alright,” she laughs. “No need to go telling on me. Love you, mom.”

My kiss on her cheek is my response. Funny when I was preparing to work, all I could think about was sleep. Now that the focus is sleep, all I can think about are the pressures weighing down on me. I roll over and take a deep breath. I can’t let Justin’s uncanny ability to evade his financial responsibilities get to me. What I give my attention to is what I will attract. I won’t end my night replaying the hurtful events of promises broken and my baby’s attempts of trying to keep a brave face while hiding her disappointment. No, instead, I’m going to dream. I’m going to envision the most outlandish, fantastic fantasy I can conjure.

With my intention set, I scoot my baby closer to me, smile, and close my eyes.

***

Rolling over, I bury my face into the pillow as I let out a string of curses. Freezing, I allow the loud noise to assault my ears. The sudden silence causes a smile on my face. I remain still, holding my breath as I count down the seconds of blissful silence. Finally, my body relaxes. I wiggle further under the covers as I run back to the place I left off in my dream. With a deep sigh, I let the peace wash over me.

“Son of a bitch!” I hiss as my eyes spring open at the loud noise returning.

Jerking the covers back, I don’t even notice the coldness in my bedroom. Nah, I’m too damn hot for that. Listen, I work my ass off. Long hours everyday with little days off. I’m always up early and go to bed late.

“On the one day, one day, that I take to sleep in before getting to work, this motherfucker wants to make noise blowing off his…” my curses trail off as I march through the house to the back door in the kitchen. “HEY!!” I shout into the backyard. “TURN THAT SHIT….shit,” I repeat a bit calmer when I finally realize the noise isn’t coming from the house in the back.

Standing there, I glance at the fence line to take note that no one was crazy enough to be out of their warm beds this early in the morning on a Saturday. Confused, I back into my house. A deep frown creases my face while I wonder, where the hell is the sound coming from? In a frustrated daze, I lumber back up the stairs to flop back into bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“That noise,” I growl.

“Oh, that!” Nova breathes excitedly. “Our neighbor.”

I give her a stupid glare as if I know what the hell she’s talking about.

“Who?”

“Next door,” pausing she rolls her eyes as to say, duh mom. “He moved in a few days ago…and-“

“Wait?! The house next door?” I grumble.

I hop out of the bed to run to the west side window in my room. The blinds crack in protest at the way I pull on the string to spy out the window.

“When did this happen?” I whisper.

Sure enough, there’s proof of life in the small, quaint house that’s been vacant for the last five months.

“How the hell did I miss that?” I voice in wonder.

I narrow my eyes while I crane my neck from my second floor view to peer over the privacy fence. I make out the small pod resting in the backyard. Moving boxes fill the screened in patio.

“Well, I’m gonna pop over to inform our new additions that this here isn’t-“

“NO!!” shouts Nova.

I stumble back due to the force she charges at me.

“What the heck is wrong with-“

“You can’t! You’ll mess up my chances. Please,” she begs.

Frowning, I open palm her face to shove her off of me. Not giving in, she latches on to my waist. We both damn near fall to the floor.

“Let go of me,” I demand.

“Please!! He won’t bring me presents. PLEASSSSE!!”

“Who?” I snap.

“Santa Claus.”

I pause. Blinking, I tilt my head to stare into her open, serious eyes. I don’t get why she’s connecting me cursing out the people next door with Santa, but I’m trying really hard not to take my annoyance out on her.

“Baby,” I start to explain, slowly. “Santa is in the North Pole. He won’t-“

“Nope,” she beams. “Santa moved in next door.”

I don’t know if it’s the way she said it, or the goofy grin on her face that makes me chuckle.

“Honey,” I laugh, “Santa isn’t living next door, but I’m going over to meet whoever the hell is.”

With added force, I free myself from her grip. I nod and pretend to listen as I snatch my heavy feather down jacket off the back of the chair in the corner.

“I swear, he’s-“

“What did I say about that,” I interject.

“I mean, he said he was Santa,” she corrects as she follows me down the stairs.

Stopping in the mud room, I hop on one foot than the other as I pull on my snow boots.

“And why is he Santa? How do you know that?” I ask, ready to play along.

Animated, she tells her tale.

“I was sitting by the window. I looked down at there he was…SANTA. I,I could see him walking through the house, and then he was standing in the backyard. I yelled, SANTA!!...just like that. He didn’t hear me. So, I opened the window and yelled it again. That’s when he looked up at me. He put his finger to his lips and told me not to shout it. See, he doesn’t need everyone knowing that he’s taking a mental break in the house next door. Seems all the elves were getting on his nerves….something like that,” she finishes with a mumble.

“Um, hum…well, I won’t do anything to piss off Santa. I promise,” I add at her non believing stare.

As soon as my feet hit the snow-covered front porch, the fake smile I had on my face vanishes. I don’t know what the fuck is going on. With each step I take, my frustration grows. I should be still in my bed deep in my fantasy of the faceless man of my dreams pounding me into the mattress in a warm, tropical location. Instead, I’m freezing my black ass off, early on a Saturday as I march next door to read an inconsiderate asshole.

I don’t ring the door bell just once. Nah, I spam that fucker. I take joy in the angry face that stands on the other side when the door swings open. He actually has the nerve to look at my finger and the doorbell as if I’m lost.

“Oh, did I make you run?” I question, sarcastically.

“I said I was coming,” the man growls.

“Well, I didn’t know if you could hear over all the noise coming from your house,” I snare.

It takes the man a moment to get over his own feelings to get what I’m trying to say. He’s still annoyed, I can tell, but he manages to pretend to humble himself enough to apologize.

“Oh, I didn’t notice the time. I’m used to getting started early.”

“Well, many of us work long hours, so we look forward to sleeping in on the weekend,” I inform him.

“Right,” he sighs.

“So, if you could just-“

“I can’t do that.”

I stop in mid retreat.

“I’m on a deadline, money’s been spent. I’m sorry but-“

In hindsight, maybe I could have been a bit more understanding. But, I’m fuckin’ tired. I’m drained. I’m sick of being fucked over…and all I want is a little bit of peace and understanding.

“You’re new to the neighborhood…and this is the way you want to kick it off? Huh? Being a selfish asshole? Okay, be that,” I snap. “And why the hell does my girl think you’re Santa Claus?”

Blinking, he takes a step back due to the force I’m coming at him.

“I, I,” he stumbles.

“Know what? Forget about it,” I growl. Turning to leave, my eyes focus on a moving box littering his front porch. “Fuck you,” I yell as I kick the box.

Not happy with just that, I give it a few more hard kicks before I yank on the Christmas lights partially hung on the banister on my way down the porch stairs. Me giving the guy a firm middle finger as I march away is my response to him calling me bat shit crazy.

**

brADLY

Dumbfounded, I watch the woman curse and kick snow down the sidewalk. I can’t look away until she goes back into her house. I scan the still quiet street to make sure she hadn’t created a scene.

“Unbelievable…fuckin’ crazy,” I mumble.

“What is?”

I tense at the sound of the voice behind me. I pride myself for being able to mask my feelings, but everyone has their days. I have no fucks left to give, and it shows on my face when I turn around. In spite of my coldness towards her, she greets me with her shit eating grin that makes my skin crawl. The whole idea of taking this place was to be able to get away. Me time, without the fuss…my happy place away from the ass kissing.

“Your stuff ready to go?”

I read the fear in her eyes. I bet she thought the sloppy head session she woke me up with this morning would have done the trick to convince me to let her stay. No, I gladly shook hands with her tonsils, coated her throat with my cum, and am now sending her ass on her way.

“Oh, come on…you can’t really want to-“

“I want and I shall ,” I say, firmly. “Unless you can sprout wings, don’t fuck up and miss your plane.”

Strolling from the foyer, I’m goddamn done with the matter. I don’t care how many people say we would make a good looking couple, looks isn’t my main requirement…and her attitude needs to be more enjoyable outside of the bedroom.

“HEY!!” I shout through the house.

Quickly, I glance at my cell phone and winch mentally. Maybe 9:45 on a Saturday morning is a little too early for construction. Stepping over yellow and orange electrical cords, I weave through the construction work benches the men have erected throughout the house.

“HEYY!!” I repeat, this time getting the men’s attention. “How about you take a break, come back in an hour, maybe 11am,” I suggest.

I take in the silence in the house once the complaining men clear out. See, this… this is all I want. The thought also brings a sadness on the heels of longing for more time. My mom, she would have liked this place. It’s the reason why I bought it on impulse. She always dreamt of small town life. While I moved her into staffed mansions across the globe, she would still talk about a tiny cottage with enough land for a garden. It was just me and her. She knew I was too focused on making it big to slow down for a family, so a small place was her heart desire.

I should have listened to her. But my need to shower her with everything she ever wanted was my top priority. And when her list was complete, I started a new one to buy her everything I thought she wanted.

“But I couldn’t buy you time,” I whisper.

My heart is so heavy that I find myself actually rubbing my chest. I can almost envision my mom walking through this house. I’m sure on the walls would be a mix of the priceless paintings, our pictures, and the arts and crafts I’ve made throughout the years that she cherished. I glance over towards the fireplace that’s currently being repaired. The previous owners had found it was cheaper to wall it up instead of fixing the cracks in the chimney. No, that wouldn’t do. Not for my Mom. She loved hanging the garland over the fireplace. She loved decorating the mantel with cheesy ceramic Christmas ornaments collected through the years. She would be stroking the fire right about now to bring warmth into a house that has a heating and cooling system that is still under warranty.

I’m smacked with the stark reality that life is short. The time I was banking on to slow down and live more, travel more, make more memories with the only person that mattered to me was snatched away by the discovery of breast cancer. In under five months, my mom was gone. Making money, taking acting roles, becoming the new, ‘Heart Throb’ of the big screen really didn’t matter that much in the moment. All that dreaming and hard work to give us both stability and riches only amounted to loneliness.

“Shit,” I hiss.

I can feel the anxiety starting to kick in. Annoyed by its presence, I head to the back porch. A touch of, Old Man Frost, sends a shiver down my spine. Walking over to the discarded joint, I lite up, take a hard hit, and enjoy the calming effect of the natural herb.

“Hello.”

“Got me hearing shit,” I whisper while I examine the joint.

“Sir…sir…,” the voice comes again followed by a rock striking the side of the screened patio.

Bending over, I narrow my eyes to scan the tree line outside. Another rock makes my head snap to the right. Glaring at the house next store, I look at the second floor.

“Sir, up here…over here…see me?”

I hide the smoking joint behind my back. The smile on my face is due to the weed and the sleepy head vision of the cute little girl dressed in her mermaid onesie.

“Good morning,” I nod.

I disappear from her line of sight to stash my weed before I step out of the screen door, and stroll over to the side of the house.

“I’m so sorry.”

Frowning, I tilt my head in confusion.

“My mom,” she whispers. Pausing, she glances over her shoulder to ensure she’s still alone in her room, “she works a lot, so sleep is-“

My eyes enlarge as I understand.

“That crazy woman is your mom?” I hiss.

“Not crazy, tired ,” she corrects me.

“She, she kicked the shi, kicked my boxes and-“

“Oh no,” the little girl groans. “Santa, please, please forgive her. My mom is a really good mom…she does so much, works so hard…she, she deserves a gift this year…and I do, too,” she adds in a rush.

I blink while I try to follow the girl’s babbling. Suddenly, I remember the lie I told her when she caught me trying on my costume for the holiday mini special I’m set to finish taping next week. The girl’s so worked up about missing out, I’m scared she might fall out of her second floor window.

Tossing my hands up in defeat, I walk closer to the privacy fence.

“Listen, calm down, okay,” I beg. “No worries,” I promise with a grin. “I get cranky, too sometimes. I swear, it’s alright.”

I chuckle at the relieved expression on the pretty girl’s face.

“Thank you,” she breathes. “And I’ll keep being good…and I’ll do my best to make sure Mama stays on your list,” she commits to the task.

“You do that,” I nod.

I laugh as I watch the girl close the window. A combination of warmth and energy surges through me. This must be the Christmas spirit talked about. Flipping my collar up, I brace myself against the gust of wind.

“Oh, HELLLLO!!!”

I freeze at the greeting coming to me on the wind. The cringe expression on my face is gone as soon as I glance over my shoulder.

“Shit,” I hiss.

Not one, but five women are fast approaching…and me without my mild mannered, nerdy disguise on. I hop back in forth on my feet, trying to decide what the fuck to do. The women’s nosiness to finally meet me causes them to lengthen their strides. Who the fuck would be out this early in the cold taking a goddamn power walk?

I'd intentionally kept my move low-key. I didn't want the neighbors to recognize me, or worse, see me as the newest Hollywood oddity to move into their quiet town. So, there was no parade of paparazzi, no gossip columns buzzing with my whereabouts. I'd even insisted on a confidential move-in, by doing all the packing, ordering of the furniture, and not being present when the movers came to unload the truck.

My plan of relaxing, day dreaming, bumming around the town, and yes, probably being depressed was the game plan with a hell of a lot of food my trainer will be pissed that I ate, TV, gaming, and hockey. However, the shadow being casted by the women is quickly busting that bubble. Slipping into the role of being the dashing, upbeat male, I grin at the middle aged women before me. I wonder how long will it take for the sleepy town to wake up to the news of me being here? Will I at least have time enough to clean my colon of the beer and pizza from last night? I better be flooded with baskets of freshly baked goodies.