A Girl's Christmas: Part 3

I pull my phone out of my pocket and open up the message I received only a few minutes earlier.

From: Unknown

To: Unknown

Subject: Re: Merry Christmas!

[Image sent]

There’s a picture attached to the text, and it takes me a moment to recognize the image.

In it is a blurry photo of the three of us – my dad and me, standing under the tree together, dressed as Santa and reindeer – grinning and laughing in the middle of a snowball fight. It’s taken right after we left the house, with only seconds left to go before it was time to run for cover. It’s obvious that I’m the one taking it since the camera angle was different and it took me less than a second to realize what it is that I am seeing – my parents kissing each other in front of the tree. Both of their eyes are closed and the expression on their faces are incredibly blissful like they’re truly happy. It makes me smile and tears well up in my eyes.

It had been the highlight of our day.

I hadn’t seen them kiss once since we came back from Thanksgiving two weeks ago, both too busy dealing with everything that happened with Mom and the hospital – Dad was barely able to come home for lunch every day, working nonstop at the station – and neither of them was willing to risk missing their first opportunity to celebrate the holiday.

And so here we were this year, in December, with tons of presents spread throughout the house for everyone.

All thanks to my parents.

For all these years they’ve been working themselves to death for me. They never complained. Never got angry, even when I was being an absolute brat and would rather spend my Christmas Eve alone than spend it with either of them. I don’t deserve them.

I miss them every single day.

I press my lips tightly together, determined not to cry. Because then I won’t want to be alone this evening, and my parents have already sacrificed enough for me as it is. So I’d rather not add to the pile.

I turn on my heel and hurry back downstairs, trying to act like I hadn’t just cried. When I reach the living room I find my mother sitting on the sofa watching a DVD, a mug of cocoa clutched between her hands.

I plop down on the seat in front of her, picking up my mug. “So...”

“So?” She turns around and grins at me when she sees that it’s me sitting beside her. Her gaze sweeps the room from top to bottom, stopping somewhere near the tree and resting on it. She lets out a satisfied hum. “I think I know why this year’s the best for decoration. Look at that, all the decorations we bought yesterday have disappeared and the tree is decorated. The whole house is glowing!”

“Haha, yeah. We’ll get through Christmas Day without having to throw any more lights into the tree or hanging any additional decorations!”

“Exactly! Come on, sit up straight, we need to work on the popcorn. Oh and check this out – Santa Claus gave us a special present, so I figured we should open it before we start watching.”

Mom stands up and holds out a small plastic bag filled with candy. I snatch the bag eagerly from her and dump several handfuls of chocolate into my palm. I’ve been craving some sweets for weeks now but haven't been permitted to consume them – so they have to be smuggled in somehow, which means I have to keep stealing candies from my parents or my friends. (They aren’t exactly subtle, and I’m usually pretty good at sneaking out without anyone noticing.)

To be continued...