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“What? I help you and you backstab me?” Arlo took off chasing Brooklyn who shrieked in delight.
“Brooklyn, want to feed the reindeer with us?” Maggie asked. They were all gathered around a small fire pit, drinking hot chocolate at the Christmas Tree Festival.
“What? We can do that?!”
“Yep, they like carrots.”
“Are they gonna slobber on me?”
Maggie laughed. “I’m not sure, but if it looks like they will—we’ll just make Chase hold the carrot for us.”
“I’m in then.”
The three of them got up, leaving Ada and Arlo alone. Ada had intentionally sat in a chair a few down from Arlo. He closed the gap, moving into the seat next to hers.
Feeling nervous, she made small talk. “Where did Liza and Miller run off too?”
“Who knows. They’re in their own little lovey-dovey world.”
Ada stared down at her hot chocolate. “Yeah, there’s something about this season that seems to put a spell on people. I blame it on all those cheesy Christmas movies.”
She felt Arlo’s eyes on her. “You seem a little cynical about the holidays. What’s up with that?”
Ada hated revealing personal information. She felt stiff and uncomfortable. She tried to skate past his question. “I guess I’ve just never understood all the hype.”
“Did you enjoy the holidays growing up?”
Ada took a deep breath. Her childhood was her least favorite subject. The image of her mom’s empty bed on Christmas morning rushed to her mind.
“Not really.” She tried to stuff down the unwelcome emotions that were surfacing. Ada ran her emotional survival strategy through her mind.Change the subject. Deflect. You be the one to ask the questions.
“How… how about you?”
Arlo looked at her a second longer, seeming to sense that her lack of words held much more weight than she was trying to let on.
Gazing into the fire, his lips curled up. “Yeah.” He let out a tiny chuckle. “Christmas was the best. Secret Santa is a big deal in our family. The gift at the end isn’t even what makes it fun. It’s all the little clues we’d leave each other leading up to Christmas.”
He turned toward her. “One year, I got a thermometer, then a heat lamp, some artificial plants, and then the day before Christmas… I got a terrarium. My mom was freaking out because she realized my secret santa had gotten me some sort of pet. She almost had a heart attack when I opened my gift—which turned out to be a bearded dragon from my uncle.” Arlo shook his head, locked into the memory. “Beardie. He lived for seven years. I loved that guy.”
Ada relished just watching Arlo reminisce, picking up some of the crumbs of his happiness.
“What about you? What was the best Christmas gift you ever got?”
Gulping down a lump in her throat, Ada searched her memories—desperate to recall something that didn’t sound pathetic. “A doll. One year my mom got me a doll that had this cute little swimsuit that I could take in the bathtub and pretend we were at the beach.” Ada’s chest was tightening and tears were just below the surface. She willed them to soak down deeper, far far into the deep recesses of her heart.
Silence stretched between them. They both watched the flames dancing. Talking about her mom and Christmas was threatening to unlock her emotional safe.Just breathe.She leaned her head back onto the Adirondack chair and closed her eyes.
“You good?”
With her eyes still closed, she said, “I feel like you’re always asking me that.”
“I feel like you’re always working really hard to keep it all together. But if you ever want to talk, I’m a good listener.”
Ada exhaled and let her head fall to the side so that she was looking at him, assessing the sincerity of his statement.
He looked back at her, eyes roaming her face. It felt like he could see past her wall. Maybe he was trying to scale it. Trying to rescue her from the tower she locked herself into. But, little did he know… no one had ever succeeded. Not even Maggie. And honestly, there were parts of her story she didn't even want to acknowledge herself.
Arlo reached out and put his hand on top of hers. Ada felt herself cracking at his touch. It was warm and comforting, unlike anything she’d felt before. Like a hug or a soft pillow that would let her relax into it. Like it could put her to sleep on nights when trauma and worries nagged her mind. Like it could be her anchor, keeping her safe in the eye of a storm.
