Chapter 6 #2
“I count my blessings,” she says. “I know I am grateful for my family, and that my children get to have this, to experience the best of both of our cultures. That Simon and I each have a loving family we get to share, even if it isn’t always easy.
I remind myself that some people spend the holidays alone or hungry.
Or can’t afford presents. Or they can’t go home to see their families. ”
I think about those people, at the airport…
Everyone who got stuck there for Christmas.
It was Christmas Eve, and somehow, I know some people didn’t make it home for the holidays…
What happened to them? Did they have to stay at the airport?
Did they find friends or families to stay with?
My heart tightens a little for them… And Parveen is right; it makes me feel lucky, despite the hardships.
I glance around the room, at my parents, my siblings, my nieces and nephews, and at my wonderful boyfriend.
It takes me a second to notice Courtney’s not here, and I frown.
“Do you know where Courtney is?” I ask Parveen.
“No,” she admits. “…I think the holidays are a bit hard on her. Maybe she needs some time alone. She disappeared a couple of times last night too.”
“Do you know why she doesn’t… talk to her family?” I frown.
I know her parents are alive; Kenny mentioned their other grandparents sent them each a Christmas card and toys earlier… But Courtney never talks about her parents, and I’m pretty sure neither Beckett nor their children have ever met them in person.
“Not all the details,” Parveen whispers, “but I think it has to do with her sister’s passing a few years ago. Courtney made a couple of allusions about not wanting prejudiced people in her children’s lives. They do send cards and gifts, but she only accepts what’s for the children.”
Oh… I suppose it makes sense why they’ve never met their grandparents.
Just like Parveen, I immediately took to Courtney, though she’s very different from both of us.
If anything, she always comes across as very strong-minded and independent.
And our Beckett was such a jock when they met!
I remember my oldest brother was a wild boy right up until he met Courtney at university and fell for her.
He chased her for a long time too, and eventually, she returned his feelings, and in no time at all, my oldest brother was a dad-to-be and engaged!
Now it makes a lot of sense why Courtney is the way she is…
Strong-minded and a bit nostalgic on holidays.
I guess I never quite realized how, even around us, some people might live the holidays very differently.
It’s stressful for Parveen and my mom, and a bit sour for Courtney, and anyone else who has to navigate tense family relations.
Maybe part of the magic is that Christmas is a time when everyone’s trying to be their best selves, for others’ sake.
We work hard to pick the right presents, prepare decorations, cook soul-warming foods, and partake in the general glee, even when it’s a bit challenging.
After all, I get a lot more satisfaction from watching everyone open the presents we got for them than what they got for us, though it’s absolutely fantastic!
And when we all finally sit down for lunch, it’s to share food, chat about our lives, and hear about everyone else’s.
My parents’ dining table is at maximum capacity, even though we set the children at their own small table in front of a Christmas show on the TV, so for a while, it’s a choreography of passing one dish after another, getting a scoop for ourselves if we can, getting our glasses filled, and trying to keep up with every topic!
For a while, we talk about our latest favorite TV shows and movies, especially as many of us follow the same ones, like baking or dancing competitions.
We don’t forget to praise Mom’s cooking while we’re at it, though the dishes are pretty familiar now, and we quickly steer the discussion to our plans for the new year before Aunt Ruth tries to criticize it.
Then, the topics shift and are divided into small groups based on personal interests.
It’s loud, it’s crowded, elbows are bumping, and children are interrupting, but I just love it.
Everywhere I turn, there’s a passionate conversation going on, food to try, and familiar faces I don’t see often enough!
“I’ll be right back,” Nicolas whispers next to me.
I nod and watch as he quietly leaves the room, guessing he’s headed to the bathroom. I haven’t talked with him much, but he was busy chatting with Beckett and then Jordan, and I’m so glad he’s getting along well with my brothers!
The lunch goes on, with children interrupting to ask adults something, Dad intervening to stop Mom and Aunt Ruth from fighting, and Rosie and I exchanging conspiratorial glances over the bread basket.
But, after a while, I can’t help but notice that Nicolas still isn’t back. I frown and glance toward the corridor; I’m feeling a bit nervous, and I’m not sure why…
“Is he alright?”
I look back at Courtney, who’s frowning.
“Huh?” I blurt out.
“Nicolas,” she whispers. “Is he alright?”
I stare at her, and it hits me hard.
“I-I don’t know,” I mutter.
I thought he was fine.
He’s been talking a lot with my brothers, right?
We haven’t spoken much since we arrived, but I…
I was always busy with a nephew, a niece, or a sibling, and somehow I just now realize it’s been hours and we haven’t exchanged a word!
At least, nothing that was just between us, not part of a group conversation, or to ask for the mashed potatoes…
Courtney gives me a sorry smile.
“I have a couple of students on the spectrum, and this kind of environment would be a bit overwhelming for them. I know Nicolas handles people at work well, but… you might want to check on him, Ophie.”
I… I just nod.
I nod because my throat is tight, and I can’t speak.
I’m so… so mortified that I didn’t even think to check in with my boyfriend for so long!
How long has it been since we arrived? An hour?
Two? Or more? I was so busy playing with my nieces and nephews and catching up with everyone that I didn’t realize…
I slowly rise from the table, and all of a sudden, I take in the scene of our Christmas dinner fully.
All the chatter and clatter around me feels overwhelming for me too.
It’s… It’s noisy. The room is cramped, the dishes are loud, the living room is in chaos, the TV is blaring, everyone’s shouting, and it’s just too much.
I go in search of Nicolas around the house, quietly praying that he’s alright, but somehow, I know, I know he’s not.
How could he be? He hates crowds, and he can’t stand loud environments!
I knew it, why didn’t I realize sooner that this was all too much?
We have never been in such a cramped, loud space before, but still, I should have known what Courtney noticed sooner!
How could I miss it? Nicolas is my boyfriend, and he’s always looking out for me.
How could I miss his discomfort when he was right there? !
My heart sinks a bit more at each room I go through that he’s not in.
The bedrooms are packed with my siblings’ belongings and their overnight bags, and I can’t find my boyfriend anywhere!
Where is he? I try to stop and calm down.
I might have messed up, but I know Nicolas.
If he’s overwhelmed, he’d try to go somewhere quiet, peaceful, without anyone…
Right away, my feet take me to the front door; I quickly put on my Ugg boots and step outside. Sure enough, it takes me about five minutes before I spot him down the street.
My Nicolas, quietly standing in the snow, looking down.
His body is tense, his shoulders slightly hunched, his hair damp, and his hands are clenched into red fists. And he didn’t take his coat.
My throat tightens a bit more, and my nose and eyes sting. I try to swallow, because I really, really don’t want to cry, but it’s hard.
It’s so quiet out here.
There are a few sounds, like Christmas Day chatter coming from the house and the nearby ones, cars in the distance, and the sea that’s not too far. But in this little cobbled street, with the muddied snow, it’s quiet.
I quietly walk up to him, and before he can turn around, I slowly hug him. He doesn’t react right away, and somehow, that hurts my heart more than anything else. But I keep hugging him, and after a while, I feel his shoulders droop just a little.
“…Ophelia.”
It’s not a question. He just says my name, like a quiet acknowledgment, a grounding word.
I’m trying not to cry, but I know I failed.
I missed the signs. I try to replay the last hours, and the more I do, the more I see the signs I missed.
Nicolas talked with Beckett and my nephew at first, and everything was fine for a bit, because he was focused on something, someone, or on that instruction sheet.
Things went downhill after that. Or, worse.
Our lunch started, and I realize he was there, but he wasn’t really part of any conversation.
Somehow, there were ten other people around that table chatting, arguing, and laughing, and I completely missed the way my boyfriend went quiet.
Nicolas was next to me, and I didn’t even realize he was shutting down.
“…It’s snowing,” he suddenly mutters.
I blink the tears away and press my wet cheek against his shirt to glance at the sidewalk.
It really is. I watch as the white flurries swarm all around us, thickening by the minute as they hit the ground.
Layer by layer, hiding the hard cobblestones they land on, they quietly and quickly climb inches around us.
I can’t let it snow this time.
Because the more it accumulates, the more troublesome it will be if I don’t deal with it now.
This time, it won’t eventually melt away with just time and patience.
It’s not as simple as ignoring his mom’s hurtful words and tactless attitude for a day or two.
Nicolas cannot handle my family’s chaos. And he shouldn’t have to.
I love them, and I love him, but the truth is, they’re not compatible.
I take a deep breath and swallow the tears as I slowly absorb that truth.
I love him even more because he’s not asking me for anything.
I’ve been a whiny mess all along, but Nicolas just quietly walked outside to try not to burden me.
Because he loves me, and he knows how much I wanted this Christmas with my family.
He chose me over his comfort, even when I know it must be so hard for him.
For a while, we stay like this, quietly watching the snow. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t turn around to hug me back or hold my hand. He doesn’t move at all, and I keep hugging him as he watches the snow.
I don’t know how long we stay like this.
In my heart, things shift a little. I watch the snow quietly settling, a fresh, white new layer on top of the muddy one.
I know every snowfall will end up in a muddy puddle, and yet, I always love watching brand new snowflakes trickling from the skies.
It mirrors my feelings somehow. As much as I love this holiday, there is no such thing as a perfect Christmas.
I know there will always be new hardships and hurdles. And yet, I can’t ever stop loving this magic, year after year, like seeing the beauty of that first snowfall.
“…Let’s go home,” I eventually whisper.
He doesn’t answer for the longest time, so long that I even wonder if he heard me.
But then, after a while, his body shifts slightly again, and I feel his cold hand coming to cover mine.
“Okay,” he simply says.
There’s no relief in his voice, and the fact that he doesn’t ask me why nor try to rebuke the idea makes me even more nervous.
I wonder if he’s still dealing with the overwhelm, or if he’s trying not to show how hard this has been on him.
We’ve been together for over a year now, and I want to believe I know him well, but sometimes, he just gets like this, and I can’t read him. And I hate it.
The little fixer in me wants to make things right, but I don’t know what to do, what to say.
I just know that I’m not putting Nicolas into the crowd of my family again.
There is no way to keep things quiet inside my parents’ house on Christmas Day, and even if there was, I don’t want to ask them to. This is their Christmas too.
So, quietly, I release him from my hug, and I pull him along as I walk back to the house, only letting go of his hand right outside the door to walk in alone.
We’re going to miss the dessert again, I realize as I walk back into the dining room, and make some excuse about us having to leave now. I don’t like to lie, and my mom isn’t happy, but Courtney, Rosie, and Parveen are quick to understand and support my decision.
Somehow, I manage to say goodbye to my family in record time.
My heart hurts a little, but every hug goodbye alleviates it.
I don’t want to think about how little time I got to spend there, how I’m going to miss them all until we see each other again.
Or how, for the very first time, I’m the first one to leave.
I just know this is the moment I’m choosing Nicolas.
So, I grab my boyfriend’s coat, and I walk back outside to find him.