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“Well, the movie ended pretty quickly,” Daimon said as he headed toward me, walking on my father’s walkway.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised at seeing.
“I’m here to get you. There’s a pretty strong snowstorm forecast. I didn’t want you to use it as an excuse to not come home,” he winked.
I smiled at him, wondering what the real reason was.
****
We walked into the penthouse, a stark difference from my father’s festive fiesta with multicolored lights and gaudy Christmas decorations. The penthouse was stunning with rich, deep dark colors and clean lines. Only once did I mention to Daimon about getting a Christmas tree. “Don’t you dare!” he hissed. “I hate Christmas!” Great! Three years have to go by before I was able celebrate my favorite time of the year.
As I walked in and took off my boots, I could smell something distinctive. I passed a happy Drako and walked into the living room. There by the large floor-to-ceiling window stood one of the largest Christmas trees I had ever seen. The white lights had already been woven in, making the tree glow softly. A large box was set on the floor with various expensive looking ornaments.
“What is this?” I asked softly as I walked toward it.
The smell of the fresh pine tree brought back very vivid memories of my mother and me going and picking up our tree at the local market.
“You wanted a tree,” he remarked.
I reached up and touched a branch. Its needles were supple and pliable.
“I thought you said no.” I looked back to see him leaning against the wall, gazing at me.
“I did, but you looked so pitiful when I said no, that I felt like I owed you one,” he shrugged.
“Pitiful?” I cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah, pitiful. You looked like you were about to cry, like a fat kid who couldn’t get dessert,” he laughed.
“I’m going to overlook your last comment because the tree is beautiful,” I remarked, giddy as I put my bag down and took off my jacket. I knelt down and began petting Drako.
“See, Drako, even the Grinch has a heart,” I said as I scratched his belly.
“The Grinch has nothing on me,” Daimon laughed.
“You can say that again,” I mocked.
I got ahead of myself by putting on Christmas music when Daimon went upstairs to change. I figured he wouldn’t say anything if it was already playing.
Snow was gently falling. The snowstorm Daimon had mention was starting. Big fluffy snowflake clusters softly descended onto the barren streets down below. Manhattan looked like a blank canvas of pure white untouched snow. I gazed onto the wonderment now because the next day, this sweet calmness would be gone and the regular chaos of New York City would take it all away.
“What the fuck is playing on my stereo?” he seethed as he made his way down.
“Her name is Judy Garland and it’s called “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”,” I replied as I walked away from the window and headed to the box on the floor.
“I relented on the tree, but the music has to go,” he insisted.
“You can huff and puff all you want, but I refuse to stop this music. Every time we put up the tree at home my mother used to put on this music,” I said as I carefully picked up an elegant glass ornament.
“Your mother died years ago,” he muttered as he sat down watching me. Drako jumped up and sat beside him.
“Yes, but I kept up the tradition at home with Sofia,” I said, not wanting him to know his comment truly hurt me.
Every year I did this was a way to atone for what I had done. I wanted her remembered for all the thoughtful things she did for us. I wanted her memory alive and well, especially at Christmas.
“Is Sofia coming?” he asked, petting Drako.
“No,” I sighed heavily. It was going to be our first Christmas apart.
“Why?”
“She said she wanted to stay there,” I muttered as I placed a large hand-painted globe of a classic Santa.
“I’ll drive her down,” Daimon offered.
“Don’t bother. I mean I don’t really blame her. She’s starting a new life and it’s the first time she gets to make these kinds of decisions. She’s finally growing wings. I’m not going to cut them off for her,” I said sadly. Of course, I wanted Sofia here with us, but I couldn’t very well make her spend time with us. She needed to live her own life.
“That’s bullshit! At Christmas, you guys spend it together. She’s being selfish,” Daimon refuted.
“So what? Let her. She’s eighteen. It’s now that she’s supposed to experience life.” I walked around the tree and found a nice spot for a hand-crafted glass snowflake.
Daimon sat, continuing to watch as I decorated the tree. I had no idea that such expensive and lavish ornaments existed yet here they were at my feet as I put them up.
