Chapter 38
The following days, I planned for Christmas, decorating the penthouse because Ben begged and pleaded and bargained to be extra good for Santa Claus.
Holidays were never my thing. Overrated, expensive, and tedious.
But Ben and Milo enjoyed the cheer, so I rolled my eyes and trudged along to make our home a festive wonderland of horrors.
With Ben out of school for a break, I decided to take some time away from Cerberus.
My guild work was lighter than most, since I never had much casework.
Plus, the office remained a mourning ground, as many of the enchanters continued grieving Campbell’s loss.
They all reported to duty with smiles on their faces, but beneath it, their thoughts carved away at me.
“Let’s go with this tree,” Ben said, dragging me through the field of fresh pine trees. “No, this one. That one. Wait. That one. No. Yes. No. That one.”
I huffed. Even Sheamus grumbled as he trudged alongside Ben, who walked up and down each row, picking over the same damn trees, indecisively choosing them based on which was greener or bigger or happier.
“None of these trees are happy.”
“Outta my head, rude.”
“Sorry about that,” I said. “Habit.”
Ben squeezed my hand tighter, then pointed to another tree. “This one’s happy. It’s smiling, see?”
He traced his small fingers along the pine needles at the curvature of some branches around the middle of the tree.
His imagination amplified his thoughts, making the tree appear like a slight smiley face if one really stretched to see it that way.
For a tiny child, an easy feat. Even the darker patches above helped add to the smiley image, appearing like oval eyes.
“What do you think?”
“I think—”
Sheamus barked, indicating Ben was speaking to him and seeking the dog’s opinion over mine.
“I like it, too.” Ben giggled.
Finally. I didn’t even care if the damn dog was placating Ben. All I cared about was asking an attendant to chop the tree down.
“We’re not taking it with us?” Ben asked, watching me pay extra for the company to deliver the tree.
Ben’s mind fluttered with memories of his daddy arguing with a previous Christmas tree, demanding it obey him as he struggled to tie the thing to the roof of his SUV.
Ben had fond memories of watching his father fight with the tree.
It usually led to him being exhausted by the time they got home and cuddling up to watch whatever holiday movies Ben picked.
“I don’t have anything to tie it down with,” I said. “Plus, my car’s not exactly built for it.”
“Oh.” Ben kicked his feet.
“It’ll give us more time to decorate,” I said, leading him to the car.
“Okay.” Ben sulked.
“Then we can watch a movie.” I opened the car door, letting him climb into his seat before I secured his seatbelt. “You can even pick them.”
“Christmas movies?”
I groaned. “Sure.”
“The Grinch,” Ben said with a mischievous smile because he already planned on calling me a Grinch.
“Can’t wait.” I frowned, giving my grinchiest expression.
Ben laughed, smiling the entire ride home and all night while decorating.
I had to redo the strings three times because Benjiman said I kept covering the tree’s smile.
I spent more time telekinetically levitating Ben than I did actually decorating the tree.
If it were up to me, the tree would’ve been good after one box of ornaments, but Ben insisted we shower the tree with joy.
It was pretty morbid, decorating the corpse of a tree we chose to have killed and displayed at home. I grinned a little. That was probably the only part of this holiday I enjoyed. Very goth in its way.
“Stop sitting around.” Ben pointed to the top of the tree. “It needs a star.”
“Okay, okay.” I lifted Ben up, raising him high enough to place the final touch on the tree.
We basked in his hard work. We weren’t the only ones. Carlie and Charlie came over, sniffing the tree and curiously eyeing the ornaments.
“Don’t even think about it.” I pointed to Charlie, whose eyes had turned into giant saucers. He was a moment from pouncing on the smiling tree.
After a moment, I returned to studying the tree, finding a photo taped to the star at the top.
It was a silly selfie Milo had taken of the three of us.
Ben making a goofy face, Milo grinning from ear to ear, and me frowning.
They were probably being annoying right before the photo, but I honestly couldn’t recall.
Still, I couldn’t help but smile now, loving how Ben chose to celebrate with his new family, his extended family. We’d never replace his parents, but I was glad he was finding joy with us despite all the losses he’d suffered.
“Not done yet. We gotta decorate the rest of the house now,” Ben insisted, retrieving some stockings Milo and him had designed the other day.
“Ugh,” I groaned, dragging my feet to follow Benjiman, the Christmas enforcer.
They were hideous stockings, covered in sparkly sequins and glitter and splotchy paint and random cutout pictures glued to the sock. But Ben had fun making them. Milo did, too. He was basically an overgrown child himself.
“All right, all right, I’m on my way.”
By the time Ben and I finished decorating the living room, I collapsed onto the couch. He continued working on things, placing shiny stars in the dining room along with reindeer and snowman cutouts.
I was starting to think his father wasn’t exhausted from his battle with the tree he would tie to the car but more drained from the grueling labor of meeting Benjiman’s decorative expectations.
Seriously, he was a little perfectionist when it came to Christmas.
Thank goodness he didn’t care this much about the other holidays.
Halloween, he was a bit picky when it came to landing the costume he wanted, but mostly he just wanted a bunch of candy so he could spend all of November crashing out from sugar comas.
By the time Ben finished, I handed him the controller and let him deal with the movie setup. All I wanted was to lie on the couch. Admittedly, watching the Grinch torment those annoying little whothingies was entertaining. They absolutely deserved it.
Unfortunately, Ben’s thoughts twisted into a sulk the more we watched.
The jokes made him giggle, and the plot kept him entertained even if he’d seen it a dozen times before.
The problem came with the snow. It taunted him, teased him, and reminded him he still hadn’t had a snowy Christmas despite all his wishes.
The problem was snow required just the right temperature and Chicago remained unseasonably warm this winter or would drop to below freezing with no in between. As such, it remained outside the perfect temperature bubble for a snow day.
Sheamus barked.
I ignored it, same as Ben.
He continued yapping, scratching at the sliding door.
Goddammit. Did he want to go on another walk?
I sighed.
“If you have to use the bathroom, just open the door,” I shouted, sinking into the couch.
Milo bought Sheamus those potty grass pads and put them out on the balcony. The whole benefit of adopting an untethered familiar was that they were clever enough to use their magic and open the sliding door.
Still, he continued barking, running over to the couch and whining.
“What’s wrong?” Ben paused the movie.
When he sat up, his eyes practically popped out of his head, and his thoughts whirled with excitement.
He bolted to the balcony faster than I could follow his mind. I sat up and saw him standing in frozen awe at the glass door.
“It’s snowing!” Ben stared at the white clumps that fell all around the building, landing on the balcony.
Not only was it snowing, but it was sticking awfully fast. I checked my phone, expecting to see some random cold front alert of an unexpected storm rolling in. Instead, my weather app said it was 48 degrees.
What the hell?
“Can I see it?” Ben asked, feet dancing with antsy anticipation as he held the sliding door handle.
Every cell in his body wanted to touch the snow, taste it on his tongue, feel it between his fingers, but he knew the rules. Ben needed permission before stepping out onto the balcony, and only if one of us was home. Sheamus never counted as a chaperone, no matter how protective the dog was.
I nodded to Ben’s request, and he rushed outside, shivering immediately at the snowflakes landing on his skin.
Sheamus joined him, biting at the air to catch snowflakes.
Charlie meowed and ran to the back of the penthouse to escape the chill that entered the house.
Carlie, on the other hand, held her ground, laying on the top of the couch and thumping her tail with annoyance.
“I know, I know,” I said to her, grabbing one of the throw blankets for her to bundle up with. “How dare we humans make this home less accommodating to your delicate needs.”
Carlie let out a groaning meow, then kneaded the blanket before cuddling up for warmth.
I joined Ben on the balcony, folding my arms to stay warm and standing under an awning to avoid the snowflakes. It was odd. The weather seemed far too warm, and I swore there was a sliver of sunlight cutting through the nearby clouds.
My pocket buzzed, and I retrieved my phone.
“Hey, guess who got off work just in time for a snow day?” Milo’s voice was particularly cheery. “Bring Ben to the park.”
“Ugh, it’s probably not going to last that long,” I said. “By the time we’re dressed and ready and downstairs, then walk to the park, it’ll all be melted.”
“Not a chance. Consider it a clairvoyant guarantee.”
Milo hung up before I could further protest.
Reluctantly, I got ready. It didn’t take much to convince Ben or Sheamus. Ben held my hand, skipping through the snow while Sheamus pranced beside him, imitating the human joy.
Thankfully, we had a nice park a few blocks away, perfect to bring kids and play at.
By the time we got to the park, the snow was sticking everywhere. Milo stood on a nearby hill, waving a hand and calling us over. He had sleds.
“How the hell did you manage to get sleds this quickly?”
Milo smiled. “I had a hunch.”
“It’s a big hill.” Ben’s eyes widened as he watched other children plunge down the kiddie hill.
“Me and Sheamus will keep you safe.” Milo slapped his face against the dog’s, showing off their matching scars, and somehow soothing Ben with the reminder.
Milo and Sheamus were twins now. They were strong, and they’d always be there to protect Ben. He didn’t have to fear the world with Milo nearby, he didn’t have to worry about being alone with Sheamus at his side, and he didn’t have to miss his family with me around.
I turned away, eyes watering slightly as those thoughts filled Ben’s mind. I took a lot of pride in how much Ben had grown to trust us, love us, but I still worried for him so much. Every little thing needed to be perfect. I didn’t want to fail him any more than the world already had.
Milo and Sheamus took turns riding down the hill with Ben. Each of them helped steady the sled so it’d go faster than the others and jump ever so but always land with ease. Ben laughed and screamed and ran up the hill again and again. It wore Milo out pretty quickly.
By his tenth trip, Milo tapped out and took a break while Ben and Sheamus continued.
I let my mind wander as I took in the snowy park, cheering children, and serendipitous snow day.
The thoughts of a nearby woman called out, her mind fixated on the perfect temperature as she channeled her magic.
“Did you seriously hire a Weather Witch?” I turned to Milo, who had the goofiest grin, then tried to blink away his surprise.
Weather Witches were rare and almost exclusively hired by the government.
It was one of the most useful cosmic magics in the world, and with their sophisticated skillset, they helped avert many natural disasters by taming the weather.
They’d push hurricanes back out to sea, rain down thunderstorms on out-of-control fires, and bring the sun to carve through deadly blizzards.
Still, there were only a handful in the US as far as I knew, and they had limitations.
“How the hell did you hire out some government official?”
“Called in a favor.” Milo shrugged, hiding painful thoughts before drifting back to optimism. “She was here for Campbell’s funeral. We chatted during the wake.”
Every horror held a silver lining in Milo’s mind. Campbell’s death was a tragedy that’d haunt him for years, yet he considered the blessing of stumbling onto a Weather Witch he was friends with.
“It’d been years since she just conjured a little snow globe of fun for folks.”
“And you told her Ben had never experienced a snow day.”
“Her only condition is she wants to meet our kiddo.”
I sighed. “Fine by me. But I’m not engaging in conversation.”
“I already warned her you’re a sourpuss.”
I scoffed, playfully shoving Milo.
It didn’t take long for Milo to abandon me, joining Ben and Sheamus as they ran around in the snow. Milo showed Ben how to make snow angels, they had a telekinetic snowball fight, then they built a snowman with the most deranged pinecone face.
I really liked watching my family have fun. Ben had quickly become the glue that held our family together. It was nice to see him find joy again after suffering such tremendous loss.