Somehow her father seemed to understand and he soothing said, “Just get here when you can. Though I’m not sure how long the little ones will wait.”
“I’ll be there soon. I’m sorry,” she tried to stifle down another sob, but the tremors escaped her voice.
“Hey, it’s okay, sweet pea. We’ll wait for you. And we all want you to know that we enjoyed dinner last night. It was a nice change of pace.”
The confirmation that she had hosted dinner last night gave her a little peace of mind.
They ended the call and January clicked the music off her alarm, noting that she had fallen back asleep for about thirty minutes before her father had called. Forcibly, January had to pull her body away from Deckard’s pillow that she still held against her body.
In the corner of the room sat the red dress she had worn last night and she remembered the look Deckard had given her when he saw her standing by the fireplace. No man had ever looked at her like that. She wished she had taken a picture of it as a keepsake.
“No more wishes,” January scolded herself as she scooted off the bed.
Rushing through a shower, January tried not to remember how Deckard had taken her in the small compartment a couple of days ago. She pulled on a blue sweater and her favorite pair of denim, adding her trusty knee-high brown boots to complete her outfit.
She did her makeup and tried to cover up the dark circles and puffiness around her eyes, a result from hours of crying, but there was only so much that the concealer could accomplish. Quickly, she dried and curled her hair into soft waves and took one final glance at her appearance in her full-length mirror.
Something was missing, but January couldn’t put her finger on it. Then she remembered the gifts Deckard had given her, or she had hoped he had given her.
An antique silver jewelry box sat on her dresser, and when January opened the lid, she found the snowflake earrings and bracelet nestled inside. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief that they were where she remembered placing them. If they were missing, January was afraid that Deckard was just a figment of her imagination. And right now, her mind wasn’t something that she could completely trust.
The earrings sparkled against the lobes of her ears as they caught the sunlight peeking through the curtains of her bedroom. With a gentle hand, she took out the bracelet and brought it close to her face to reread the inscription. It hadn’t changed, and that was the first thing that gave January a reason to smile.
It took a few attempts to get the clasp to close, and January never understood why bracelets had to be so difficult for one person to attach.
Now when she looked back in the mirror, she felt put together. The jewelry had been the missing piece. It made her feel as if Deckard was still with her even though he was probably already back in Atlanta.
Grabbing her phone, January pulled up his number and pressed the call button. She didn’t know what she was going to say to him, but she wanted to hear his voice. But as the phone rang repeatedly and no one answered, she felt dejected. He was the calm in the hurricane of her life. Instead of leaving a voicemail, January shot off a text message wishing him a Merry Christmas and that she hoped he had a pleasant flight. Hopefully he’d call her later and she was going to hold onto that sliver of hope with both hands.
As she was leaving, the photo in the hallway by her front door caught her eye, the same one Deckard had stared at the first time he had been at her house. It had seemed so long ago that he had barged into her life, but had only been two weeks. She tried to see what he did when he looked at her family. He saw beyond her fake smile and saw the sad woman that felt like an outsider. He saw her.
She longed to go back and make things right with herself and her family. Time and happiness was lost due to her petulance.
But maybe she could use this chance to make everything right.
~
The drive to her parents’ house was quick since there were very few people on the roads. Her father opened their front door to her and hugged her tightly before unleashing her toward her nieces and nephews.
Everyone had gathered around the large dining table as they waited for her to arrive drinking coffee and snacking on the brunch her mother had prepared. January apologized for being late, but the group sent sad looks in her direction.
They knew.
They all knew that her heart was breaking and she was here only to make appearances. But they didn’t realize how much she yearned to be here with them. She had a turning point as she left her house and come hell or high water January was going to make sure that her shattered heart wasn’t going to ruin their Christmas.
She smiled and waved at the group, doing her best to make it as sincere as possible, and the group collectively smiled in return, their shoulders relaxing in relief.
January moved into the kitchen and found her mother standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. She walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, hugging her in a way that silently professed her apologies for all the years she had put a damper on her mother’s holiday celebrations.
“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” her mother murmured as she twisted around and kissed January’s head.
“Merry Christmas, Mom.”
With her niece’s insistence, January made a batch of hot cocoa despite the mock devilish glare April, the girl’s mother, was sending her way. She left the adults to ta
lk in the kitchen as she went into the large den to see some toys the kids received from Santa, but she knew they were all excited to open the presents from her parents.
It took a few more minutes for everyone else to trickle into the den and the kid’s excitement grew ten-fold. The adults took their seats on the couch and single chairs. Everyone was paired together, even her mother sat on the arm of her father’s chair as they watched Augustus hand the kids their gifts.