Christmas With Kris Kringle

Chapter 18

When the RideX pulled up to Kris’s parent’s house on Christmas Eve, my heart kicked up like a wild horse. Kris was upfront with the driver and Celeste and I were in the back seat. The entire ride Celeste oohed and ahhed at the most mundane things, pointing out street signs and waving flags.

Being in Ottawa was a Christmas wonder in and of itself. I’d gone back and forth dozens of times in the last week about making the trip. Was it weird to travel to another country to meet a man’s family who you’d known for a little over a month? Especially when you and that man only started dating a few weeks ago. If it was any other man, I would have kept my ass home. But this was Kris. When we met at the Christmas tree, he claims he knew. I didn’t know but I did wonder.

Maybe I wasn’t smitten on our initial meeting. But it was clear the love bug snuck up and tagged me multiple times. Kris was exactly what I needed even though he wasn’t at all the type I would normally date. He was spontaneous where I was a planner. He lived life seeking adventure while I lived my life trying my best to avoid anything that could cause me emotional or physical harm.

Collecting our bags, Kris set them near the front door. Celeste and I hung behind at the foot of the stairs. His childhood home was one of many on the snowcapped street. The two-story brick house was framed by large trees weighed down from the accumulated snow. It was like something out of a picture book. This space in time felt like Christmas in a way Minnesota didn’t.

Sprinting back down, Kris squeezed my hand. “You ready?”

I looked toward the house with uncertainty in my eyes. “Maybe this was a mistake. The last thing I want to be is the fifth wheel at a family only event.”

“Don’t be silly, Belen. Friends can be family too,” Celeste said.

Kris wrapped his arm around both Celeste and me. “Cici’s right.” He planted a kiss on my cheek before propelling us both forward.

When the front door swung open, the initial reception was lukewarm. A young woman who favored Kris but was ten times prettier stood in the doorway. “Oh, it’s you,” she said.

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Rayna.”

“I was just hoping it was Unc with the gumbo.” Rayna’s eyes traveled past Kris to where Celeste and I stood. I had a death grip on his hand as I peeked out over his shoulder. His sister’s face turned into a crooked smile, looking back toward the members inside the house she called out, “Kris brought a girlfriend.”

The chatter inside died down and was followed by clambering footsteps as people made their way to the door. It was like we were an art installation the way Kris’s family gawked.

“Okay guys, let’s not act like you didn’t know I was bringing friends.” They continued to stare and whisper. “Can we at least get out the cold before the foolishness starts?” Kris asked, ushering Celeste and I into the house, which was several degrees warmer. The scent of simmering meats, herbs, and cinnamon clung to the air, confirming a morning filled with food preparation. It was a modest house, but it was well loved with family photographs everywhere I turned. The inside matched the picturesque exterior. I’d always found the concept of home hard to explain, but standing in the foyer, a sense of comfort and security washed over me.

The family which consisted of at least ten people, continued to stare as Kris went back to the porch to fetch our bags. “Hello, I’m Belen and this is my sister Celeste.” I hated being the center of attention, but it was clear from the way the family gawked, at least for the next few hours, it would be unavoidable. “Say hello, Celeste.”

“Hello,” Celeste said, as instructed. “It’s rude to stare,” she added matter-of-factly.

Nervous laughter spilled from my throat. “She didn’t mean that.”

“Yes I did. It’s not nice to stare at people because it can make them uncomfortable.”

“Celeste is right. Staring is rude. Who raised you?” A woman’s voice trilled as the crowd made room for her. “Oh that’s right, it was me.” She laughed at her own joke. “Hello dear, I’m Irene, Kristoff’s mother.”

“Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand but she ignored it, pulling me into a hug that ended with a hearty pat on the back before moving to Celeste to perform the same action.

Mrs. Kringle was nothing like I’d imagined. Kris didn’t have any family photos at his place, so when he talked about his mom, I’d created an image based on his stories. In my mind, I’d envisioned a Black woman with a trendy short hairstyle, classic fashion sense and glasses. Except for the glasses, I was off, way off. His mother had long locs with hints of gray, her style was bohemian chic with chunky bangles and a statement necklace. Her mahogany skin had subtle lines which grew slightly more pronounced when she smiled.

When she caught sight of Kris, her face lit up. “I’m so happy you’re home.” She fell into his arms and was enveloped by his embrace.

“Hi Mom,” he said, kissing the top of her head in the sweetest way.

“So we’re just bringing dates to Christmas now?” A man I could only assume was Kris’s brother, Matthew asked.

“I know you’re not talking,” Kris said, releasing his mother. “How many times have you brought a mystery woman home claiming she was the love of your life, only to break up with her weeks later?”

“And sometimes not even weeks. Remember Mallory, they broke up on Christmas Eve,” Rayna added.

“That sounds awkward.” I’d intended to make that commentary in my head but my mouth had a mind of its own.

“It was, because even though they broke up she just hung out with us for like three more days,” Kris said.

“And so that is why I think we can all agree bringing dates to family events is a bad idea.” Matthew looked at me and pointed. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“Belen, how’d you manage to get out of spending Christmas with your family? Our mother would disown us if we were a no show for Christmas,” Rayna said.

I suspected we’d land on this topic eventually, but I’d hoped to be out of my coat and have a drink in me before we did. “Both my parents are dead so…”

The room fell silent. Talk about dead parents will often do that.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, dear,” Kris’s mother placed her hand on my shoulder.

“They’ve been gone for a while now so it’s fine.”

Rayna clapped her hands. “So tell us everything. What do you do? How did you two meet? Why did you lower your standards when you could clearly do better?”

“Okay, can we take off our coats first before we start interrogating my girlfriend?”

“Wow.” Matthew shook his head in disbelief. “And there it is, a declaration of ownership. His girlfriend.”

“You know we’re gonna get the full story one way or the other,” Rayna said. I loved how each sibling took turns teaming up on the other.

Kris brushed their words aside. “Belen, you are fully within your rights to plead the fifth to any and all nosy questions.”

“Yeah, but if you don’t answer we’re just going to talk about you behind your back and draw our own conclusions,” Matthew teased.

“Enough of that. You are not going to hold our guests hostage in the entryway. Allow Belen and Celeste a chance to properly catch their breaths. Give it a rest you two.” A tall man who looked like Kris, just in a different font, lighter skin, gray hair and a cane, said.

“Yeah, what Dad said.” Kris playfully punched his brother in the chest and mushed his sister in the head.

Christmas Eve dinner was a Nordic soul food fusion. With pork, cabbage, and beets alongside mac and cheese and the best gumbo I’ve ever consumed, courtesy of Uncle Rus. Kris’s dad, Gerrit was from the Netherlands hence the name Kringle. I guess over time the Norse recipes passed down from his father were transformed into a homage of both Gerrit and Irene’s roots.

The conversation was just as satisfying as the meal. I got to hear Kris’s family recount funny and oftentimes embarrassing stories from his childhood. Kris took it all in stride as his siblings tried their best to one up each other in the who can make Kristoff look the lamest department. Siblings were reliable for one thing without fail, humbling the shit out of you in front of anyone who would listen.

Looking over at Celeste, she seemed just as amused as everyone else. If we were back home, we would be watching It’s a Wonderful Life . A movie she loved and I tolerated because I loved her. I couldn’t remember the last time I was at a family gathering like this. There were faint memories from before my mother died and one Christmas when we flew to Arizona and I couldn’t understand why there was no snow.

Small families were the worst. My parents weren’t originally from Minnesota, both moved to the city for separate reasons. Once there, collectively they decided to stay and start a family. But that meant it was just the four of us for the longest time. All our relatives lived in other states. So conversations like this one with Kris’s family were both entertaining and a bit overwhelming.

Everyone in his family had a big personality and a story they wanted to share about a summer barbecue, family reunion, or cousin’s sleepover at Grandma’s house. None of which I could relate to. I had three cousins and the last time we all got together it was like being in a room with complete strangers who made absolutely zero effort to look up from their phones and engage with me.

Being surrounded by so much love made the gaping hole in my chest ache with longing. I didn’t have much, but I would give it all just to have one last Christmas with my parents. To go back to a time when anything was possible. When life held less consequences. I’d prefer a simpler existence, but I was forced to sign do not resuscitate forms for my dad and create a will so Celeste would be taken care of in the event anything ever happened to me.

Maybe it was jet lag or the rich meats and sauces, but everything felt cattywampus. It was as if the room was askew. Or maybe it was the other way around, the room was perfectly symmetrical and I was the one tipping over. The pounding of my heart was drowning out the laughter and loud voices. My palms felt cold and clammy, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to throw up or scream at the top of my lungs. Sometimes when words failed me, all that helped was to belt out a scream. It was like my reset button when life veered out of my control.

Luckily, I didn’t release a bloodcurdling scream, but I fear my reaction was far worse. A deep sob crawled out of my throat, causing my entire being to shake uncontrollably.

“Belen, are you okay?” Celeste asked.

“I’m fine,” I sobbed. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

“Sweetie, you’re crying,” Kris’s mom noted.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. I don’t know what’s happening.”

Kris ran his hand along my back. “It’s okay, sometimes we just have to cry.”

“I’m ruining dinner. I’m ruining Christmas Eve.”

“Actually, you’re making it ten times more interesting,” Matthew said, before being hit by Rayna. “What?”

“I’m not good with holidays.” I pushed my chair from the table, searching for the exit. Opening a door I hoped would transport me far away, only to find an overstuffed closet, I cried harder. “I don’t know where the bathroom is.”

Kris rescued me, leading me out of the room and to a nearby half bath that was tight and kind of claustrophobic with us two inside. I fell into his arms and cried. There were two types of rain, the soft warm rain you danced in and the cold hard rain you ran to escape. This sob session was a hard rain. I wish I could disappear, but there was no place for me to hide. These tears had been stored up for years and all at once they were trying to escape.

For his part, Kris just held me close as the storm hovered before slowly beginning to pass.

Crying was so wildly embarrassing, especially when you were unable to control it. I wished I could travel back in time about fifteen minutes. One moment I was laughing about a pet squirrel named Curly and the next I was submerged in water works. Way to make a first impression, confirming you’re damaged goods to your boyfriend’s entire family.

“I’m sorry. Your family probably thinks I’m a weirdo.”

“Oh they thought that the minute they found out you were willingly dating me,” he teased, handing me a wad of toilet paper.

“I’m so stupid.” I wiped at my runny nose.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A quick no jerked my head, but my lips betrayed me, unpacking all my trauma. “I just miss my parents. You have this amazing family and a lifetime of memories, and I didn’t have that. I feel robbed.” Fresh tears hung from my lids. “This time of year has always sucked. And I just wish they were here. And I don’t know what I’m doing with Celeste. I don’t know if I’m making the best choices for her. I want her to be happy and independent, I do. But I’m just scared because she’s all I have and I can’t lose her too.”

Kris leaned against the sink as I paced forward four steps just to turn around and pace across the tiny space again.

“And now I’m ruining Christmas and probably scaring you away.”

“I don’t scare easily.”

I stopped and faced a corner so Kris couldn’t see my tear-stained face. Crying wasn’t going to fix anything; in fact, it was probably making everything worse. What are you doing? You met a nice guy, who likes you so much he flies you to another country to meet his family and you do this. “I’m just tired, maybe jet lagged.” I did my best to dismiss my emotional breakdown.

“Tell me what you need. Do you want to leave?”

“And be the bitch who pulled you away from your family on Christmas Eve. No absolutely not.”

“If this is too much for you, we could find a hotel and try again tomorrow.”

I sucked in the last of my tears turning to face him. “It’s Christmas Eve, finding a hotel would be damn near impossible and that’s not what I want.” I didn’t expect Kris to fix this. He couldn’t. These were my issues and I needed to work through them on my own.

“To be fair Ottawa is not really a getaway destination during the holidays. If you want to leave, I’m sure I can find us someplace else to stay.”

“No, I love this house and your family is amazing. I just had a temporary case of the holiday blues. This is actually on trend for me. Without fail, I cry every Christmas Eve. Usually, I don’t have an audience.”

“Understood, but if you want anything … If I can do anything to make your stay here better just let me know. I’m right here whenever you need me.”

“I know and I appreciate that. Just being here watching me ugly cry is enough.”

“Actually, you’re really cute when you cry. Your lip trembles and then there’s the snot. So much snot.”

We shared a laugh.

“Hey,” he whispered, his eyes hooded. “I love you … so much.”

“I love you too.”

Kris scooped my face in his hands, kissing me softly. What was intended to be a sweet kiss lingered, transforming into a longing desire to be fucked in the powder room. Kris dropped down onto the closed toilet, pulling me on top of him. His hands traveled from my face, groping my breast and thighs over my clothes. It didn’t matter we were in his parents’ house. I was trying to figure out the quickest way to get just naked enough so I could feel him pulsate inside of me. Apparently, Kris wanted the same thing as he undid the buttons on my cardigan.

There was a knock on the door which caused us both to freeze. “Belen, they brought out dessert. There’s two types of cake and a pie. And Kris’s mom said I can have ice cream on top of my pie,” Celeste called.