29. SARAH
We walk inside a familiar old building—a building I never thought my eyes would lay upon again.
Feelings I’ve pushed away, deep down inside me, scratch at the surface, threatening to expose my true emotions.
Anguish. Pain. Sadness.
“Are you okay?” Paul asks, eyeing me as he helps remove my coat.
I force a smile and reach for his hand. “I’m fine.”
But the truth is, I’m not.
Because how are you supposed to feel entering the group foster home where you spent your first Christmas without your parents?
Paul pulls me into his side, leading me behind his family as we head toward the back of the building, where a giant, fully decorated Christmas tree stands. Children run through the halls, giggling and screaming in excitement.
“Wow! Look at all those toys,” one boy admires, watching Paul and his brothers as they place the abundance of bags filled with toys around the tree.
“Kathy.” A woman, appearing in her mid-forties, approaches, extending her hand toward Mrs. Weston. “Always so nice to see you and your family. We can’t thank you enough for everything.”
“Deloris, you know we would never miss this,” she replies warmly, shaking her hand.
“Well, let me gather the children, and then we can start. The caterers you sent over have begun prepping this afternoon’s feast. The kitchen smells amazing!” She beams before walking away.
“Has your family done this before?” I ask Paul.
“We do this every year.” He shrugs. “My dad was adopted when he was a kid, and it was always important to him to give back. So we’ve been participating in this yearly tradition for as long as I can remember.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder. “My mom hires a team of caterers to prepare food for all the children and employees here. And then Kevin, Ray, and I get all the presents that Tina wraps for us. Every child writes down one thing they want, and we get it for them.” My stomach drops, remembering when I had to write down what I wanted from Santa. “Although, we always end up getting way too much stuff. I guess we go a little overboard, but we just want to make sure that every child here has a present from Santa.”
My heart.
It stills beneath my chest.
This guy really is a goddamn teddy bear.
And he’s all mine.
I wrap my arms around him, nuzzling my face into his chest. “I can’t get over how lucky I am that I found you.”
His arms around me tighten as he kisses the top of my head. “It’s me who’s the lucky one.”
“All right, everyone.” Deloris walks into the room with a line of children behind her, eagerly peering around at all the bags of toys. Excitement flashes in their little eyes as a buzz of anticipation floats in the air. “Who is ready to see what Santa brought for them?”
“I am!”
“Me!”
“Me! Me! Me!”
Deloris laughs. “Okay. Take a seat around the tree, and we’ll get started.”
The children quickly sit on the floor, bouncing in anticipation. A few of them find it impossible to sit still and try peeking in the bags, but they’re each secured shut with a ribbon.
Kevin sits on the closest chair and pulls one of the bags beside him. “Santa told me you were all good this year. But I don’t believe him. Is it true?”
“Yes!” the children all squeal, giggling.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out.” He reaches inside the bag, pulling out the first toy. “Do we have a Henry?”
A little boy no older than five jumps up, happiness evident all over his adorable chubby cheeks as he rushes up to Kevin, smiling brightly at the box in his hands. “Is that the train set I asked Santa for?”
Kevin hands it over to him. “Guess you’ll have to open it to find out.”
Henry starts ripping the red glossed wrapping paper in a hurry, and as his eyes catch on the blue train set, he looks up to Kevin and says, “Thank you!”
Kevin nudges the top of his head. “No problem, little man.”
My eyes wander around the room, taking in the chaotic but heartwarming scene.
There must be at least fifteen children.
Fifteen children with no families or a place to call home.
My eyes water and my throat begins to constrict, remembering being here like it was yesterday.
“Still okay?” Paul whispers beside me.
I nod, trying to rein in my emotions, but it’s becoming impossible.
I clear my throat. “I’ll be right back. I just need to use the restroom.”
“Want me to come with you?”
Shaking my head, I say, “No. I’ll be quick.”
I walk through the entryway out of view, exploring the halls, remembering every room, window, and piece of furniture. It doesn’t appear much has changed since I was last here.
My hand runs along the wall, old memories running rampant through my touch until I approach the sitting room, where another beautiful Christmas tree adorns the corner. There’s a window bench I know very well, bringing a slight smile to my face. It was where I spent many nights curled up, refusing to sleep in the room assigned to me.
I wanted to see the sky.
I wanted to feel close to my parents.
Sitting on the bench, I pick up the photo album resting beside the wall. Carefully, I flip through, seeing photos of children who lived here over the years. Children who had their whole lives turned upside down were brought here to feel any semblance of everyday life.
My eyes immediately stop on an image.
Squinting, I take the photo out of the sleeve and bring it up for a closer inspection.
It’s me.
I run my hand over the picture.
A frightened girl with jet-black hair, pale as the moon, sits with a teddy bear clutched to her chest, showing just the tiniest smile.
It was the first time in months I had smiled, thanks to the man sitting next to me, beaming at the camera. He’s the man who gave me Teddy all those years ago.
I don’t know who this man is. But I hope he knows what that teddy bear means to me.
I hope he knows that because of him, I never gave up.
TWELVE YEARS AGO
I wrap the blanket around my scrawny body, tucking myself into the corner of the window seat bench, watching the snow fall outside. The glass is cold, each pane frosted, but I’d rather be here than anywhere else in this unfamiliar place.
Children are laughing in the other room, opening their Christmas presents. But I don’t understand how they can be happy when we’re here because we don’t have parents.
And nobody wants us.
Tears gather in my eyes, slowly falling down my cheeks, and I let them, not worrying about wiping them away since no one is here to witness them.
“Somebody told me you might be in here.”
Whipping my head to the side, I spot a very tall man leaning against the doorframe. He takes a few steps, approaching me, causing me to withdraw further into the corner.
He raises his hands. “It’s okay. I’m just here to give you your present from Santa.” He dangles a bag in front of him, trying to lure me with the promise of a toy.
The only problem is there’s no toy I want.
And when they asked me to fill out my letter for Santa, there was only one thing I could think of that I desperately wanted and needed.
And there’s no way it’s in that bag.
It’s not possible.
I turn my head to glare out the window. “I didn’t want anything.”
“Hmm. That’s not what Santa told me.” He shakes his head. “No, he told me your gift was the most special of all the gifts today.”
“He did?” I ask suspiciously.
He crosses his heart. “On my honor.”
I purse my lips, sitting up straight.
He points to the other side of the bench. “Is it okay if I sit here?”
I nod, watching as he sits, stretching his long legs before him.
“How tall are you?” I ask.
He scratches his head. “Last I checked, I was six foot seven. But my wife keeps telling me she thinks I’ll never stop growing.” He laughs, placing the bag between us.
I try to peek inside, but there’s tissue paper on top, covering whatever hides beneath.
“So, why aren’t you out there with all the other kids?” he asks.
“I prefer being alone.”
I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders, suddenly feeling colder than I was just a minute ago.
“Santa told me you’ve had a tough couple of years.” He frowns, leaning back. “Is that true?”
“I…I lost both of my parents.” I wipe my eyes. “And I don’t have anyone else.” I shrug, trying to feign indifference and act brave in front of this stranger when I feel ready to fall to pieces.
“I’m sorry.” He looks up at the ceiling. “I have three sons running around here somewhere, and they’re the joy of my life. I can’t imagine how I would feel if I lost one of them.”
I look down at my lap. “It’s my first Christmas without them,” I whisper. Glancing at the bag, I shake my head. “There’s nothing in that bag that will make things better.”
He pushes the bag a little closer toward me.
“Doesn’t hurt to see,” he adds with a slight shrug.
“I don’t believe in Santa, anyway.”
“Don’t believe?” he ponders. “Hmm, that’s interesting.”
“What’s interesting about that?”
“Well, if he’s not real, how would I know what you asked for in your letter to him?”
My lips part in shock. “He told you?”
“Think of me as one of his elves.”
“You’re too tall to be one of his elves.”
He chuckles. “Santa doesn’t discriminate. Besides, he needs someone to reach all the high places on his Christmas tree and change the light bulbs.”
An unfamiliar sound slips from my lips: laughter. Quickly, I cover my mouth with my hand, alarmed by my reaction.
I can’t remember the last time I laughed.
The man watches me, tilting his head to the side. “It’s okay to laugh, sweet girl.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think it is.”
He turns, facing me. “Without laughter, we only have silence.” He picks up the bag, handing it to me. “We need laughter to make the days better. No matter how hard things may be, we must remember never to give up. And laughter, well, it keeps us going. It gives us something to live for.”
I hesitantly take the bag from his hand and reach inside, beneath the tissue paper. My fingers grip something soft and pull it out, tissue paper falling around me, revealing a teddy bear.
“When Santa told me that all you wanted for Christmas was a hug, well…” He clears his throat. “We just knew this guy would be perfect for you.”
I brush my fingers over the bear’s beige face, admiring the big, round brown eyes. He’s smiling, wearing a big pink bow around his neck.
“He’s perfect,” I admit softly, admiring him.
Cautiously, I bring him to my chest, and then, as though everything has snapped into place, I clutch him in my arms, closing my eyes. Tears run down my cheeks like rampant rivers. It’s the first time I’ve hugged anyone, well, anything, since my parents’ deaths.
“Oh, sweet girl.” I look up, finding the man with a tear flowing down his cheek, making no move to wipe it away. “Is it okay if I hug you?”
I nod because this man seems to need a hug as much as I do. And as his arms gently wrap around me, I find myself leaping into his embrace, burying my face into his chest, crying harder than I have in my entire life.
His hand softly brushes over the top of my head. “Let it out.”
And I do.
Minutes go by, the man not saying anything as I break down in his arms, missing my parents so unbelievably much.
I don’t know how I’ll ever get over losing the two most important people in my life.
I don’t know if I’ll ever fully be okay again.
Eventually, when all the tears have fallen and my breathing evens out, I release the man from my grip, wiping my eyes.
“Thank you,” I murmur. The teddy bear sits on my lap, and I bring it to my chest, hugging him tightly, holding on to him like he’s my lifeline.
The man smiles, wiping his tears. “What are you going to name him?”
I think it over before, confidently saying, “Teddy.”
He mulls it over, tossing his head from side to side. “I like it.”
“Oh, there you are!” Valerie, the woman who runs this place, walks into the room. “We were looking for you.” Her eyes spot the bear in my hands. “And who do we have here?”
I peek at the man beside me before I reply, “Teddy.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Teddy,” Valerie says. “We were just getting the afternoon lunch set up. Do you want to come out and join the other children?”
I shake my head. “I’m not really hungry. Is it okay if I come out later?”
She gives a small smile. “Of course.” Looking between me and the man, she asks, “Would you mind taking a picture together? The snow in the background is just so beautiful.”
“Absolutely,” the man responds. “If it’s okay with this sweet girl.”
I smile and nod, leaning in toward him.
I face Valerie, who pulls out a camera and snaps a quick shot. “Perfect!” She pockets the camera into her green dress. “Join us when you’re ready, Sarah. I don’t want you missing out on all the good food,” she says warmly before turning and leaving the room.
“It really is good food,” the man adds, rubbing his stomach. “I think I should join them before it’s all gone. Want me to get you a plate?”
I shake my head. “Can you do something for me instead?”
“Of course.”
“Can you tell Santa I say thank you for sending you to me?”
He sucks in his bottom lip, appearing like he might cry again. But instead, he clears his throat and says, “I’ll pass the message along.” He stands, looking down at me. “Don’t give up, sweet girl. Things will get better. And one day, everything will fall into place as it was meant to be. I promise.”
I smile, watching as he walks away and turns the corner out of view, wondering if we’ll ever meet again.
* * *
“What’s wrong, baby girl?”
I shake my head as my memory fades away. Wetness coats my cheeks as I look up to find Paul watching me from the doorway.
“Oh, nothing.” I wipe hastily at my face.
Paul walks over to me, sits beside me, and wraps his arm around my waist. “Talk to me.”
I let out a deep breath. “This is where I spent my first Christmas without my parents.” I shrug. “It was just bringing up a lot of emotions. And I needed to walk out of that room before I started crying in front of the kids. Fucking hormones.” I attempt to fake a smile, but I know Paul will see right through it, so I stop myself, letting my true emotions show.
Paul’s hand finds mine. “This was the foster home you lived in?”
“Yeah. I grew up just a few towns over from here, so this was where I was first sent for a couple of years before I started my journey through the foster care system. I spent a lot of time on this bench.” I pat the space beside me. “I was just flipping through this photo album when I found a picture of me.” I hold out the photo for Paul to see. “It just brought back a memory. Hence the tears.” I smile, looking up at Paul, but his face appears paralyzed.
“Paul?” I try to remove the picture from his sight, but he grips my wrist. “What’s wrong?”
He clears his throat, taking the photo from my hands. “Sarah…” His free hand rubs the back of his neck. “Do you know who the man in this photo is?”
I shake my head, eyeing the image. “No. He’s the one who gave me Teddy, though. He made my first Christmas here bearable. He even gave me my first real hug in forever. I hadn’t let anyone touch me after my parents’ deaths. But something about this guy made me feel comfortable and seen. And I just jumped in his arms like a freaking koala and bawled my eyes out for a while. He just sat there and let me, not saying anything. It was exactly what I needed, and then—”
Gazing up at Paul, I find a tear cascading down his cheek.
“What’s wrong?” I turn to him, cupping his cheek, worried.
“Sarah, the man in that photo is…my dad. That was…” He sniffles, clearing his throat. “That was the last Christmas I had with him. He died a few days after this picture was taken.”
“Wh-what?” I grab the photo from him again and look closer.
The big chocolate brown eyes.
The light brown skin.
The height.
The chiseled jaw.
The smile.
It’s Paul’s doppelganger.
I was so lost in the memory that I didn’t clearly see him.
But now I do.
I turn to Paul, trying to wrap my head around this. “I met your dad?”
“Yeah, baby girl.” He nods, brushing his lips over my temple. “You did. You met my dad.”
And the most breathtakingly beautiful smile I have ever seen appears on Paul’s face.