AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That fits, since our tree is already pretty gay.” Meg lifts our collection of pride ornaments out of the box to emphasize her point.
She made me the pink, blue, and white painted trans pride ornament the year I came out to her. It’s just a painted ball, but I like the colors better than the nonbinary one that also fits me, and I love that she made it for me. She was only a little older than Owen is now. She came out to me last year by presenting me with the enamel pink, blue, and lavender bisexual pride cat ornament.
After that, Owen asked if he gets a flag too. So we hung a jolly roger for him because Meg reminded him of the two years he had to wear a patch for his amblyopia. The only thing that made him keep it on was their running joke that it made him a pirate.
Those three ornaments mean the world to me. A visual symbol that our love for each other is unconditional, the way family should always be. The way it wasn’t for me. That thought makes it hard to talk to Marcus like everything is fine.
I hand the phone back to Meg and start disassembling the broken tree as an excuse to step back from the conversation my kids are having with Marcus. They discuss the relative merits of white versus rainbow holiday lights. I need to clear space for the tree my brother is bringing to replace ours. Seeing my son so animated about his first real tree takes the sting out of having to say goodbye to our old one.
Maybe it will be better to let go of the memories that cling to these flimsy branches. We’ll still have all the ornaments that represent the good times. We can make new memories and traditions if I let go of the past represented by the dusty box holding the broken remnants of our old tree.
I want to freeze frame Owen’s round cheeks and bright cherubic smile as he gesticulates to emphasize his words. He pouts theatrically at his sister’s gentle teasing over his taste in music. Marcus talks to my kids for a while longer. I can’t hold the past against him too much when he’s being a good uncle, giving them the Christmas they deserve.
I try to pack away my heartache along with the old tree so we can focus on having a good time decorating our new tree once it arrives. My brother is so cheery with my kids as he helps get it set up and level. Gail even sends over a little tupperware full of holiday trail mix with the tree delivery. Her ‘puppy chow’ is basically just chocolate, peanut butter, and powdered sugar on cereal, but Owen loves it.
It’s easier to focus on enjoying the moment when Owen drags Meg into twirling around the tree with him. The two of them work together to thread the lights onto its bushy boughs as they dance. My heart swells with love for the two of them. We work together to put our memories on the new tree, and I can’t help smiling at how happy they both are to draw out the family tradition. The three of us sit close on our tiny couch to bask in the sense of accomplishment—and the lights—when it’s done. I snap a picture to share with Saint later, certain the bright colors will make him smile.
“Movie night?” Owen asks, digging into Gail’s cereal treats. Meg grabs a fistful of the sweets, and I even pick at the snack.
“I’m up for someElf.” Meg pulls up a streaming service on the phone, using a friend’s login information and casting the movie to our television. Ugh. I shouldn’t feel guilty that I can’t afford every streaming service under the sun. It’s not like the kids have any shortage of media to consume.
Owen shrugs in under my arm and snuggles into my side, distracting me from my self-recriminations and just filling me with love for him. Once the movie starts, Meg drops her head onto my shoulder on my other side. She even puts away her phone to watch the holiday classic with us.
These are the moments when I think I’m doing alright, the three of us together and making memories. I love my kids so much it scares me sometimes. They deserve so much more than I have a blueprint to give them, but I must be doing something right. How many kids their ages want to spend Friday night watching movies with their parent instead of out with their friends or doing their own things in their rooms?
I’m going to give my kids a Christmas season to remember. More nights like this, with the three of us together. More songs, snacks, and holding each other close. We all laugh at Buddy’s holiday antics, and I know in my heart that I’m enough for them.
Even if I can’t put the latest tech under the tree, I can give them these moments of togetherness to treasure. They will never doubt how much they’re both adored.
Chapter 6
Saint (December 13th, 2023)
“It’ssnowing!”Carltwirlsaround in the season’s first dusting of the stuff, grinning like a little kid as we leave the gym. We try to go together at least three times a week, one of those routine set points that helps us stay connected in the midst of our busy lives.
“Damn, it’s cold,” I complain, but I can’t help smiling at his enjoyment. The snow glistens as it catches in his bushy beard and melts there.
“Spoilsport.” Carl doesn’t look at me, just sticks out his tongue to catch the fluffy flakes, the big adorable goofball. “I’ve got a date tonight.”
“Same guy you’ve been chatting with online?” I ask, trying to keep my voice normal. I have to turn away, heart aching with how much I want him to have everything that makes him happy. For Carl to have the romance he craves, I might have to give him more space, but I’d do anything for him.
“Yeah. He says he’s fine with taking things slow.” Carl shoves his hands into his pockets.
“That’s good.” I amble toward our cars.
“Yep. So, I can’t do dinner with you tonight.” Carl trails after me.
“That’s fine.” I snug my jacket more firmly around me. Time to break out my scarf and gloves when I get home. I spare a brief thought to whether Angel’s kids have all the winter gear they need. Knowing my friend, almost definitely. Whether Angel has warm things too is another issue entirely.
“Come over for a shake and help me pick an outfit?” Carl breaks into my thoughts.
“Oh, so now you like my sad beige style?” I tease, arching a brow at him. We both know my wardrobe is on point. My suits sort of have to be when I need to appear in court. Appearances matter with clients and judges alike. And I appreciate nice clothes. My big bear of a best friend is too broad to fit most of my clothing, but I can still help him pick something from his own closet.
Carl pouts at me. “I mean, neutrals work for an adult date look. I want him to take me seriously.”
“You look good in bright colors, babe.” I bump our shoulders together as we walk toward our cars. “Don’t let anyone take your joy, yeah?”
“I won’t,” he says defensively. Carl plucks self-consciously at the bright pink joggers he’s wearing home from the gym. His nerves have me questioning whether he’s just that eager to make things work. Or if it’s more likely this guy isn’t actually as good a fit as Carl hopes he is.
