Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
FAITH
Christmas break was going fast and slow at the same time. I texted and called Adam some, but I knew his time would be spent with Danny.
I missed my students and the routine of it all, but there was something healing about the quiet peace winter can bring.
The fresh falling snow, the soft glow of all the Christmas lights, the music, and not to mention my Christmas tree that was front and center in my living room and my mind.
I stared at it and replay the day in the mountains far more than I would admit.
It was Christmas Eve, and Rose was staying the night with family.
Marissa was hosting a dinner with the guests at the B he saved me from my loneliness. From my false beliefs about what parents are. “I’ll head that way in a few minutes.” I looked toward my kitchen. “Do you need me to bring anything?”
“Nope. Unless you have my pride somewhere, I seem to have misplaced it.”
I chuckled. “Oh no!” I raised my eyebrows. “Wait, I thought you didn’t like the word ‘friends’ between us.”
“Oh, I want to be friends,” I could hear the grin return to his voice. “Just not only friends.”
I gave a breathy laugh. “Oh, okay, got it.” I hadn’t felt like this with anyone. I was excited and terrified, like I was flying but knew I might fall.
“Thanks, Faith.” Adam’s voice was soft, and I was excited to be with him.
“Cya soon.”
“Bye.”
I drove my car on the icy roads outside of Hillsdale.
The road narrowed on the sides as the snow banks grew higher.
I pulled into the driveway and noticed Adam’s truck in front of a small blue ranch-style house, complete with what had to be ten snowmen lined up like little soldiers along the driveway. I grinned.
The front door flew open, and Danny rushed out. He was in pj’s covered with flour, and his hair stuck up in all directions. I opened my door and was met with my second grader’s arms wrapping around me.
“Thank you,” he said.
I hugged him back, and a warm spot grew in my chest. “I can’t let you have a Christmas emergency and not help.”
Danny grabbed my hand and began tugging me toward the front door, which now had Adam standing at the threshold. He looked exhausted. He was covered in flour as he rubbed a hand down his face, shook his head, and one side of his mouth pulled up in a smile. “Hey, Faith.”
I wanted to reach out to him, to hold him. “Merry Christmas Eve.”
And Adam, by his eyes, he wanted to hug me too. But Danny didn’t give us the option as he helped me toward the kitchen. I tried to look at the walls in the living room that held pictures and drawings, a pile of toys, and Frosty on the TV as I was pulled into the small galley kitchen.
Danny grabbed the recipe that was set on the counter and pressed it into my hand.
I chuckled. “Okay, we better get started. Let me wash my hands.”
The three of us spent the next thirty minutes measuring, scooping, and adding extra chocolate chips for good measure. Adam could only pick out the eggshells. Danny thought he might have bad luck.
It was like a Christmas card. The three of us standing in the kitchen, Adam brushing against me and touching my waist every chance he could, and Danny with his rigid demands.
This was what I wanted for Christmas. I wished to hold on to this memory forever, to paint it in my heart and in my mind, never letting it dull or change.
Danny was afraid the cookies might burn again, which led to the three of us leaning against the opposite cupboard, sitting on the floor, and watching them bake.
I should have kept my focus on the oven, but with both boys pressed in on either side, I couldn’t.
As I was enveloped in the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies, my mind envisioned a different life than how I was raised, a life I now wanted in my future.
In a simple home, with homemade presents, watching cookies bake, and surrounded by people I love.
Christmas Eve growing up was Mom’s annual dinner party. She always took it as a competition between that and the Knolts’ New Year’s Eve party. Both centerpieces started as small ice sculptures that somehow grew into ones the size of Christmas trees.
The year before I left, Mom boasted of crackers that cost three hundred dollars each and cheese that was seven hundred dollars a pound. And each guest got an exotic truffle chocolate box from Vosges and a gold champagne flute.
There were no cookies, no intimate dinner, no matching pj’s. There was nothing about family at all. The party went super late, and then my parents slept most of Christmas Day. I could open my presents by myself whenever I wanted.
Danny yawned and leaned into my side, and I was brought back to this real life fairytale.
The one with chipped linoleum floors, burnt cookies in the trash, and Frosty the Snowman on repeat in the background.
Adam shifted and his hand slid down my arm and clasped my hand in his.
I leaned my head on his shoulder, and his lips pressed into my hair.
I sat as still as I could, afraid to wake up from this dream.
This life could never be real, never truly be mine, until I was honest with everyone around me. They all deserved the chance to choose the real me.