Page 3 of One Little Chance
Packing clothes I opened on a quiet Christmas morning that my Dad hadn’t even realized Mom bought. He was distracted and moody that whole day.
I tiptoed through the kitchen to steal a few bowls and spoons for my new dorm room, wondering when Mom and Dad stopped giggling in there.
The house was quiet as I packed, I felt myself noticing it for the first time. Quiet was our normal for the past several years, wasn’t it? Mom and Dad’s old jokes were buried under years of distance.
“When did you realize?” Mom asked me over the phone weeks later, when I collapsed into tears demanding to know if Dad had left her for someone else.
How could I miss it? Turned into a frantic, how much could I miss?
Now, I was back in Sweet River, my hometown, in Mom’s Viletti Villa, sitting on a plush green couch instead of the worn-in red sectional I grew up with. So many things were different, but not everything.
Time taught me that some things don’t change. Visiting home still smelled like Mom simmering something tomato-based on the stove. Tonight was one of those nights as garlic and fresh tomatoes filled the house. And she still hung big wreaths on the windows and red bows on the kitchen cabinets. And it was still my family’s voices that filled my ears on nights like these.
I wished I could go back and whisper in my eighteen-year-old self’s ear,things might’ve shattered, but some pieces would always be yours.But she’d figure it out all in good time.
Mom was humming in the kitchen when Orlando burst through the door Christmas Eve night with a big, lush tree. Mom and I ushered him in, guiding him to a spot to place it. It put the artificial two-footer to shame.
Orlando was a junior in college and home for Christmas break.
“I saw Mom’s tiny one was still around and thought it was time she upgraded!” Orlando said, eyeing the new real eight-foot tree proudly. It made the living room smell like pine.
I’d spent the first few Christmases after my parents split with my ex, Tyler’s family. Each of us in our family tentatively tried something different like walking on unsteady ground. Mom went on a cruise that first year. Orlando went to the snowy mountains with some family friends. Until we finally started spending Christmas with the three of us again—Mom, Orlando, and me. We haven’t looked back since. Repairing our pieces like a fallen ornament, not quite the same as before, but still beautiful and in some ways, even better.
Mom bought the two-foot Christmas tree that first year the three of us celebrated together again. It became our family tree for years. It made us giggle, and we loved how the big ornaments looked on it. Mom was happier, lighter, even better now after the break.
“Tiny Tree still needs a place,” I said as Mom and Orlando fluffed the new tree. I glanced around the room, searching for a spot.
Mom offered, “How about in your room, by the window?”
I smiled at Mom referring to the guest room asmy room. In her mind, no matter what happened, Orlando and I were her two kids and wherever she lived was our home. I carried TinyTree into the guest room, setting it on the table by the window. I opened the curtains, so it shared its twinkle lights with the neighborhood. I peeked out to see kids running around the neighborhood pink-cheeked, giggling, and high on Christmas.
I was home. I felt like someone had wrapped a blanket around my shoulders after a long time in the cold.
Chapter 2
DECEMBER 25TH, 2022
Dad
Merry Christmas, Soph! So happy you’re back in town. I know you’re with Mom today, but I’m excited to ring in the new year with you! Love you.
Christmas morning tasted like hot coffee with cinnamon sprinkled atop and sounded like Mom and Orlando giggling over silly holiday memories while bacon sizzled in the frying pan. The new Christmas tree was aglow in the corner of the living room.
I sat at the round oak kitchen table with fuzzy red and green socks on while Orlando grinned at me through sleepy eyes.
“Little us would judge older us for eating breakfast before presents,” Orlando said as he poured himself more coffee.
“I miss little you trying to sneak into the living room at all hours of the night to catch Santa in the act.” Mom sighed wistfully at the memory.
“Look where we are now,” I said, before taking a hot sip. “I’m back in Sweet River getting my own place. You’re in college.”
“I wonder where we’ll be even a year from now.” Orlando came and sat beside me at the table. That question gave my heart little anticipatory flutters, like turning the first pages of a new story.
“Oh, oh, speaking of little you. Did we tell you who we ran into yesterday?” Mom asked Orlando while pointing toward me with the spatula.
“Who?” he asked. The smell of bacon made my stomach growl.
I hid my face in my hands. “Jordan. And his family. They came caroling.”
