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The sky is hidden behind thick, gray clouds. Snowflakes fall quickly and heavily, dancing in a soft breeze and obscuring the lake and mountains. The whole world is quiet, muffled under a white blanket.
Brooke is still asleep in my bed upstairs. The girls are scattered around the living room, sleeping in the funniest positions. Only their breathing and occasional snuffles disturb the silence.
I am waiting for the usual wave of melancholy that accompanies Christmastime. Emotions heavy enough to drown me, memories so thick they’re suffocating me. Usually, on the 23rd, they hit me with the force of a tsunami.
But not today.
Today, they’re gentle waves licking at the corner of my mind. No sting, no suffocation. A heavy sadness on my heart, but not too uncomfortable. Present, but not all-consuming.
A soft black shadow nudges my hand and scoots under my palm.
"Hey, little demon slayer." I scoop Daisy up and cuddle her to my chest. I decided to make her my Christmas present to myself this year.
Because who can have enough cuddle buddies? And since Dick gets along great with her, I thought, why not? I would have regretted it if someone else had adopted her because I was waiting for the perfect moment.
They might not become the best of friends, but they tolerate each other. Good enough for me.
I stare at the reflection of my Christmas tree. I wonder how Ella is doing. When we were kids, she used to climb into bed with me on Christmas eve, because our parents told her if she stayed awake and tried to catch Santa, he wouldn't bring her any presents. So, she declared it my responsibility to prevent her from trying to sneak downstairs to peek. Ultimately, we used to talk until late into the night, until the two of us were so exhausted we slept more solid than rocks.
I wonder what she's up to right now. Does she miss me as much as I miss her?
Or has she forgotten all about me?
She used to love drawing. Does she still? Maybe she finally got the hang of mixing a color that isn’t a diarrhea shade of brown.
I wonder if she's still in contact with our parents. If she changed her mind over the years and joined their beliefs.
If she ever searched for me.
Ever since I talked to Jamie about her, I kept catching my thoughts returning to the conversation. Should I search for her? I’m finally in an okay place around the holidays; should I enjoy it for a year or two, or get it over with?
So many questions. So little answers.
"Good morning." Brooke's reflection appears in the glass and sneaks closer. "Got some space for me down there?"
"Always." I pat the ground to my left and lift my blanket for her. With a grace I’m only a little envious of, she sits down and pulls the blanket around her shoulders. As soon as she’s happy with it, I lean in and steal a kiss. "Did you sleep well?"
"Hell yes." She rests her head against my shoulder and tickles my neck with a deep sigh. "But, fuck..." She hides a yawn behind her hand. "I could sleep for a week and still need more time to recover. I'm getting old."
"Always the younglings complaining." I joke and run my fingertips over Daisy's head.
For a while, we stare out the window together. Watch the snowflakes dance through the air before they join the thick white blanket on the ground. At least I pretend to. Actually, I stare at her adorable, sleeping face and how she fights to keep her eyes open.
"I have a present for you," she whispers into the silence, barely audible.
"It's not Christmas yet." I shoot her an amused glance.
"I know." She shrugs and nudges her face against my shoulder. "We never talked about Christmas presents." She pulls a gift-wrapped rectangle out from under my couch. When did she even stash it there? "But I don't know. I felt like giving you something, and then you organized me a whole goddamn sanctuary, and now it seems underwhelming and-"
“Shut up, Brooke. Nothing you could give me would be underwhelming.”
She pushes the present into my hand.
"Is it a book?" I ask excitedly and shake it, trying to discern what it is from the sound it makes.
"There’s only one way to find out," she jokes, pursing her lips.
"Seriously though, Brooke..." I set it aside and turn toward her, much to the dismay of Daisy, who hops off my lap and back to her enclosure. "What I did for your sanctuary was the bare minimum. It’s what a supportive boyfriend should do," I explain, gently tucking one of her curls behind her ear. “Nothing you ever have to repay me for.”