Chapter 19 - Christmas One Year Later

One year after the Christmas that changed everything, I woke before sunrise again.

But this time, nobody had ordered me into a kitchen.

Samuel woke me.

He was ten months old and deeply offended by the concept of sleeping past 5:30 a.m.

I carried him downstairs.

The Christmas tree lights reflected in his eyes.

He reached toward them.

“No.”

I moved his hand away.

He tried again.

“Still no.”

He laughed.

My father walked in wearing slippers and carrying coffee.

“He gets persistence from you.”

“I was going to blame you.”

“That would be legally unsupported.”

I rolled my eyes.

Our Christmas dinner was scheduled for three in the afternoon.

Michael was coming.

Rebecca had been invited.

Two old family friends were joining us.

Nobody was expected to dress formally.

Nobody had polished silver.

The turkey was slightly too large for the oven.

My father burned the first batch of rolls.

I overcooked the green beans because Samuel started crying.

Nothing looked like a magazine advertisement.

It was perfect.

At one point, I stood at the counter and felt the memory return.

Granite behind my back.

Sylvia’s hands.

My phone breaking.

David’s face above me.

My body went still.

Rebecca noticed.

“You okay?”

I took a breath.

“Yes.”

And then I realized I meant it.

Not because the memory had disappeared.

Because it no longer owned the room.

My father placed a chair beside me.

“Sit.”

I looked at him.

His expression changed immediately.

“That sounded wrong.”

I laughed.

“Very wrong.”

He laughed too.

I sat with Samuel on my lap.

Nobody called me lazy.

Nobody told me I was embarrassing them.

Nobody demanded I earn the right to belong.

After dinner, snow began falling.

Michael stood near the window.

“Have you heard anything about David?”

I nodded.

His final bar discipline had been entered months earlier.

His suspension was extended with conditions he would have to satisfy before seeking reinstatement.

He had moved to another city.

He attended court-ordered programs.

He had not attempted unauthorized contact.

“That’s all I know.”

Michael nodded.

“Do you hate him?”

The question surprised me.

I looked at Samuel.

“No.”

“Really?”

“Hating him would require too much room.”

I smiled.

“I need that room for other things.”

Samuel grabbed my necklace.

My father complained about someone cutting the pie incorrectly.

Rebecca threatened to cross-examine him about it.

Laughter filled the house.

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One year earlier, Christmas had shown me everything I needed to escape.

This Christmas showed me everything I had escaped for.