Page 93 of Christmas at the Movies
‘What are you so afraid of, honey?’ Sarah asked. ‘You know we’ll love him just the same, no matter what the results are.’
‘I don’t want him to be labelled,’ said James. He knew first-hand how horrible boys could be to other boys, how any sign of difference or weakness could get you bullied in the playground. He’d cried a few times at school afterhis mother’s death and been mocked relentlessly for it. He wanted to spare Nick that torment.
‘Labels don’t have to be negative,’ said Sarah. ‘They can be empowering.’
‘Whatever this is, he might just grow out of it.’ James knew he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince his wife.
‘Maybe,’ replied Sarah doubtfully. ‘But if there’s something wrong, a diagnosis will help us know how to support him. When I was suffering from anxiety, finding out what was wrong was the first step in me getting better. You encouraged me to get a diagnosis.’
‘Look what I found in the wardrobe upstairs,’ called Holly, coming into the garden holding a cardboard box of DVDs. ‘We can watch one of these.’
James was grateful for the interruption, though he knew Sarah wouldn’t let it drop. He rooted through the French films and classic movies, looking for something suitable for the kids.
‘What about this?’ asked Holly, holding up a copy ofLast Tango in Paris. ‘I love dancing.’
‘Nope!’ James quickly took the DVD off her. ‘It’s too, ah—’
‘French,’ supplied Sarah, coming to his rescue.
‘Here we go!’ said James, discovering a copy ofElf.‘This is the perfect thing. It’s about a human raised by elves in Santa’s workshop.’
‘But it’s not Christmas,’ said Holly.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ replied James. ‘It’s a great movie.’
And, unlikeLast Tango in Paris, it wasn’t an erotic drama!
They went inside and he loaded the disc into the machine, hoping it still worked. To his relief, the movie began to play.
Sprawled on the living-room sofa next to Sarah andHolly, with Nick snuggled up on his lap, James let the film transport him to Manhattan at Christmastime.
‘Come on, everyone,’ Holly urged them, as Buddy the elf encouraged everyone to sing loudly to spread Christmas cheer. ‘Sing!’
They all sang along and cheered as Santa’s sled rose into the sky.
Nick clapped his hands when the movie finished. ‘I love Buddy the elf! Daddy, can we have spaghetti with maple syrup for dinner?’
‘No,’ said James, laughing.
‘Why not?’ said Nick. ‘That’s Buddy’s favourite meal.’
‘Because we have some lovely fish to grill,’ said Sarah.
James went outside to fire up the barbecue.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ said Sarah, coming out to join him and lifting her face to the sky. ‘Is that the sun? I hardly recognise it.’
The sun was indeed peeking out from behind the clouds.
‘Tag – you’re it!’ squealed Holly, running across the wet grass in bare feet as her little brother chased after her, giggling.
As James grilled the seabass, he thought about the film they’d just seen. Buddy the elf stayed true to himself and eventually saved the day.
James watched his sweet, sensitive, artistic son playing with his sister. Why should Nick have to change to fit in? Or hide his true self?
He took a deep breath. ‘OK,’ he said, turning to Sarah. ‘Let’s get Nick assessed.’
‘Really?’ she said, her face lighting up. ‘What made you change your mind?’
