I don't say anything and he says goodnight again before shutting the door behind him, whistling “Jingle Bells” to himself.
I turn off the lamp and sink into the bed, tossing the blankets and pillow on the floor. Humming the beat to “All You Need” by Radiohead, I remember how warm Ignacio last felt in my arms and the way his heartbeat steadied against mine. It was how we found peace in one another as our world fell apart around us.
It's all wrong.
It's all right.
Twelve
Ignacio
Christmas Eve is in three days. My mom has been playing “Jingle Bell Rock,” “Feliz Navidad,” and “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer'' for the last hour. I swear she's trying to punish me for not being here to celebrate with her last year. The scent of gingerbread, eggnog, and peppermint wafts in the air, along with the smell of menudo. I've missed all of them.
Running my fingers over the branches of the tree, I connect the two green cords together. White lights brighten the corner and I take a step back, wishing I could feel the enjoyment I once had during these moments. Bending down, I pull apart the flaps of the box filled with ornaments, pulling out a white dove.
Clasping the white porcelain bird to my chest, I close my eyes, going back to the day I first saw it on a table at a Christmas festival.
My eyes brightened the moment they landed on the beautiful, handcrafted ornament calling to me on a large table full of other items I barely noticed. I couldn't stop admiring and touching it. The sudden peace I felt from staring at it made me think of a few weeks ago when I felt lost and hopeless.
I wanted to give up right there but then I saw something white and beautiful flying past me while walking with my dad. A white dove landed on a nearby branch, coming out of nowhere, offering me a sense of calmness. My heart smiled as our eyes met and I was filled with peace. Then when it flew away, for a while so did I.
“It has blessed you,” my dad said. “It's the promise of a new beginning. One that will take you to high places.”
In between rides and games, I kept coming back to the same table, feeling an attachment to the item. The man would ask me if I wanted to buy anything and I'd shake my head, walking away.
It’s now a week later and we’re decorating the tree, and Everett hands me something wrapped in paper. I slowly open the gift and it’s the ornament. I didn’t think anyone had noticed.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I hold it up by the golden thread and the sun shines against the glass. My smile in the reflection is something I never truly felt until this moment.
“How did you—”
Everett smiles at me, taking a step forward and caressing the dove's wing. “Out of all the games we played, food we ate, shows we saw, and rides we rode, this is what truly kept you at the festival. Whenever you thought your mom and I weren't paying attention, we noticed you sneaking back to that table every chance you got. But you never bought it.”
“I didn't need it,” I say.
“No, but it needed you. You look at it for everything it represents.”
“And what's that?”
“Hope, freedom, happiness, and love.”
My heart warms and he takes a step back, gesturing forward. “Go ahead. Put it on there.”
Nodding, I inch closer to the tree and place it in the center. It rocks back and forth before going still. My breath catches and I reach out to touch it again, thinking about how it's everything I wish to be. Not only do I want to find all the things he mentioned, I also wish to grow wings someday so I can be free.
“Hey, the hot cocoa is ready. We can't decorate the tree without it,” my mom says from behind me, taking me out of my memories. “It's going to snow later and the house will be freezing, so we'll also need to get the fireplace going soon.”
Nodding, I hang the dove in the center like the first time I decorated a tree with it. Turning around, I take the snowman mug from her hand and she smiles, the red lipstick painting her lips making her white teeth more noticeable.
My mom has always been beautiful. She has the kindest brown eyes, the most comforting smile, and her hair is a golden brown. She often wears it in a long braid, brushing her bangs to the side of her round face.
The light my father dimmed for years was starting to come back before I left and now I'm worried I've set her back. I can't help but feel like I dragged her down the same way he did. She was radiant when she was happy and it was almost contagious, along with her laughter. She brushes a strand of hair from my face. “How are you today, mijo?”
“I'm here,” I say before taking a sip of my drink, the warm cocoa soothing my aching throat. Swallowing whole food is a challenge for me these days, so I gently push the marshmallows around the cup, waiting for them to soften some more.
“You are. I was so worried…” Her voice cracks, her bottom lip trembling. “I didn't think…I pictured you standing in front of this tree so many nights after you went missing. I was in protective custody, alone in a small duplex, waiting for them to call to say they found you. Months went by and I got so angry, I tossed the tree out the window.”
“I'm sorry, Ma. I messed up. I know I did. I never wanted to leave you alone.”