Little Miss Santa Claws

17. Nicole

CHAPTER 17

Nicole

I remember it all.

I remember my Christmas Eve flying through the sky on a magical sleigh. The frat house with all the stolen toys that came alive. My run-in with Jack Frost. That never-ending night of passion in the North Pole with Krampus claws wrapped around my neck.

I remember Missy, and my heart aches.

For whatever reason, she let me keep my memories, and I can’t decide whether it was intended as a gift or punishment. Either way, I think I deserve it.

I spent three days and nights staring at the sky, waiting for a miracle I knew in my heart would never appear. Missy is hidden on a planet galaxies away, and she’s not coming back. Not until next year.

My mom returned home this morning and dragged me out of my bed, and now, I’m helping her take apart the Christmas tree. Full. Fucking. Circle. I do my best to master my emotions. If I burst into tears here, she’ll never leave me alone, so I force myself to feel everything beneath the surface.

Seeing these perfect glass ornaments hanging on the tree makes me sick to my stomach. It’s like that night never happened. This is why I stayed in the bedroom for as long as possible. I didn’t want to be reminded of what Missy did for me, how she took the broken shards of my heart and reassembled them, reminded me of what it felt like to fight for myself, and then vanished into the stars like some sort of phantom.

And I won’t lie. I considered the possibility that it was all a fantastical dream for all of one minute before her words returned to me.

Will you believe me to be a dream?

My dreams are never this sweet.

She is real, even if the only place she exists on this planet is in my head. I won’t let go of her. I won’t make her smaller for my own comfort.

As I lift a sparkly red star off the tree, I announce, “I’m quitting my job.”

My mom pauses where she’s bent over on the other side of the tree, her head slowly leaning around the dusty white limbs to stare at me. “What did you say? I couldn’t have heard you right.”

I push the star ornament into its plastic packaging and turn back to the tree to find its twin, trying to act as nonchalant as I can manage with my mother glaring at me like I just sprouted Krampus horns. “I’m taking this next year off. I might do some consulting on the side so I don’t go totally broke, but I really want to…” I search for the right words then chuckle to myself when I realize those words are: “do nothing”

There’s a long moment of silence, and then my mom exhales.

“Oh honey,” she begins, her voice full of pride. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Time away from work is precisely what you need. Are you going back home to work things out with Matt?”

Not even the mention of my self-centered ex can sour my mood. For the first time in a long time, I have clarity.

I shake my head. “I called Dad.”

Mom tenses, her shoulders bunching around her ears as she sits back on the floor. I’ve shocked her. The deep furrow on her forehead tells me she’s at least a little bit insulted too. I can’t remember the last time anyone mentioned Dad in front of her.

In her silence, I explain, “He said I could stay with him and his wife. They have an old shop I can convert into an apartment, and it’s close to Grace. I called her too.”

She blinks, distracted from her anger by that last omission. “You did ?”

I nod. “We have plans for next Saturday. I’m going over there for dinner with her family.” I smile as I remember hearing Abigail in the background of our phone call, screaming at the top of her lungs, filling the stunned silence after Grace recognized my voice.

I told you so, Mommy! I told you she wanted to see us!

An ornament dangles forgotten from Mom’s fingers as she absorbs this information. It’s not every day something leaves her speechless, but then her features unexpectedly soften, like a thousand tons are being lifted from her shoulders. She’s relieved.

Without warning, her chin starts trembling. “Oh…Nicky,” she warbles, practically slapping herself in the face with the ornament as she covers her face with her hands and cries.

I quickly round the tree, dropping to my knees at her side. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” My hand hovers above her shoulder, wanting to comfort her but not entirely certain why she’s melting down. She could be furious with me. She could think I’ve betrayed her by talking to Dad behind her back.

She shakes her head, peering at me over her fingertips. “No, Nicky. I’m just so glad .”

“You…aren’t angry?”

“You called your sister!” she exclaims. “How could I possibly be angry with you ever again?”

I laugh, knowing she’ll eat those words within the day but grateful for the unexpected support. Leaning forward, I give her a hug. It’s awkward but nice. It has been years since I last hugged her, which is easy to do, considering my mother doesn’t particularly enjoy affection.

Mom returns my hug, blubbering against my shoulder as she pats my back, that forgotten ornament bouncing against my ribs. “I love you, honey. I’m so proud of you.”

I wonder if this is why she really wanted me to go back to Matt, because I’d already shut her and the rest of my family out of my life, and he was all I had left. All I let myself have. Maybe she just didn’t want me to be alone. Despite her faults, my mom has her good moments too, and I’m thankful this is one of them.

Clearing my throat, I manage to choke out an, “I love you too.”

Then, I pull away, returning to my work on the opposite side of the tree so she can’t see the tears in my eyes. My anxious heart has its limits.

After a few more minutes of working together in silence, I hear my mom gasp. She kneels on the floor and ducks her head under the tree. “Did you get me a present?”

“Huh?”

I definitely didn’t, but I circle the tree to look at what she pulls out. It’s a shiny green package with white ribbons.

“You left a present underneath the tree? Why didn’t you say anything?” The joy in her smile is enough to make me lie.

“Oh, I—uh, I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Mom flips the tag over, scanning it, and laughs. “From a Missy Santa Claus. That’s clever. You really tuned into the Christmas spirit while I was away, didn’t you? You even wrapped a second present for yourself.”

She leans down and pulls out a second box from beneath the tree, this one wrapped in metallic pink paper and a bright red bow. My name is written in large, thick lettering on the red tag.

I take it from her, my heart thundering.

The other side of the tag reads, We both know I can’t give you what you really want for Christmas, but I hope this helps bridge the gap between what was and what can still be.

I amble my way to the couch, my legs numb from the shock of having the evidence of her existence right here in my hands, the myth who stole my heart. The sound of my mom ripping through wrapping paper is muted, as if she’s rooms away. For a moment, I’m completely alone.

Then, I carefully pull on the ribbons securing my package, intending to keep every scrap of her as intact as I can. They’re precious.

When I finally manage to remove the many folds of wrapping paper, I wiggle a white box out and place it on my lap. My box is larger than my mother’s. I look up and catch a glimpse of the ornament she’s squealing over—and I recognize it as one of the items that had been sitting in Santa’s private workshop. The magic that swirled inside of it is gone. Now, it’s just a pretty glass ball. The magic will probably only come back once the North Pole is aligned with us again. As my mom leaps up to put her gift on the tree, I return my attention to my own.

I open the box and fall utterly still. I forget how to even breathe.

It’s a camera, exactly like the one my father gave me, with a creamy white case, a detachable lens, and an ink-stained, extendable flash on top. I don’t know how Missy did it, but it looks just right.

A trembling smile tugs at my lips as I lift the camera out of the box.

I could cry at how perfect it feels in my hands, how the plastic is already worn down, like satin against my fingertips. Twisting the knob on top, the camera turns on. The screen lights up a dark blue, shifting to a live visual of the camera lens, but then an alert pops up on the screen.

MEMORY FULL!

Brow furrowing, I navigate to the playback, and a picture appears. It’s the one that was sitting on Grace’s mantle, of me and her as children, our arms wrapped around each other. I thought the original was gone forever, but here it is. In my hands. In the corner of the screen, the camera states that this is the last photo out of thousands. Unable to stop myself, I start to look through the others, and goosebumps prickle up the back of my neck.

Every picture I lost, all the ones I destroyed in anger… They’re here. Pictures of my mom and dad back when they still loved each other, pictures of my sister and me when we still trusted each other. Memories I thought were lost.

Missy gave them back to me.

A feeling expands in my chest, warming me from the inside out. She loves me. I know it as surely as I know the sun will rise every morning. The memories of the time we spent together were a gift, just as these are a present to the girl I used to be. The girl who destroyed everything she touched just to know she could still feel something .

Hurting was easier than healing, but I’m stronger now.

Next year, when our planets align on Christmas Eve, I’m going to be make sure I’m healed enough to give her everything she wants, everything she deserves . I just hope I won’t be too late.