Page 14 of Holiday at Home
My neighbors have decorated like only Stillwater residents can. There are wreaths on doors, lanterns lining walks, inflatable snowmen and Santas lit with solar spotlights. Lights twinkle, glitter-wrapped wire reindeer sparkle, and elaborate nativity scenes.
And then there’s my house.
The only dark spot on the street.
I prepare myself for Nora to say something about it, but she remains blessedly silent on the matter while I slide the key into the lock and let us inside, flicking on lights that don’t quite seem to reach the spot where the tree should be.
Nash chatters and giggles and laughs, filling the place with the enthusiasm of childhood—every tradition feeling new and special and magical.
“Okay, wild man,” Nora says, ruffling his hair. “It’s time to get you in bed.”
“Wild man? I thought I was Monster Man!” Nash hooks his hands into claws and launches himself at his mother, giggling wildly.
“How many candy canes did this Monster Man have?” Robbie asks, hoisting his son and swinging him over his shoulder. “I’m thinking more than a few. How about we brush those fangs and tuck this monster into bed.”
They disappear up the stairs, a litany of words still flowing from Nash’s mouth while he bounces with each of Robbie’s steps.
“I don’t think bedtime is happening anytime soon,” I say to my sister as I shrug out of my coat and hang it on the hook near the door.
“You’d be surprised. He can go from that much energy to sound asleep in the space of the opening line of a bedtime story. Kid’s a lot like his dad—goes and goes and goes until he wears himself out, then crashes hard.” Nora wanders into the living room and drops onto the couch, patting the cushion beside her. “You doing okay?”
I lower myself beside my sister, pausing with my hands on my knees to sigh. “I’m…”
What am I supposed to say?
Opening day was great—until it got weird with Simon.
The tree-lighting was great—until it got weird with Simon.
It’s wonderful having my sister and her family here, but they’re leaving in the morning and I’ll go back to quietly existing, missing Mom and Dad.
Do I say any of that? All of that? None of it?
“I’m just really thankful you were here today,” I finally say, curling onto my side, lowering my head into my sister’s lap.
She runs her hand through my hair like we’ve always done for each other since we were little.
“Me too, Vi,” she whispers. “Me too.”
My alarm blares to life in my darkened room, a cruel reminder that baker’s hours aren’t for the faint of heart. I sit up, scrubbing both hands over my face, hoping to wipe off the slight headache the rum-soaked cider left in its wake.
“It seemed like such a good idea at the time,” I murmur as I swing my legs off the side of the bed.
Nora’s flight doesn’t leave for several hours, but she wanders out of her bedroom about the same time I do. She groans sleepily and wraps me in a hug, her body still cozy and sleep-warmed. We wander downstairs together, silently moving through the kitchen. She makes coffee while I do breakfast. Very few words are needed between us; they never have been. It’s a twin thing, I guess.
I’ve never experienced that kind of closeness with anyone else. Maybe Simon when we were younger—but that’s probably the patina of memory making everything seem better than it was.
Nora and I sit at the kitchen table, clutching our coffee mugs in our hands, and I suddenly find myself close to tears. She places her hand on mine and gives it a squeeze. “You gonna be okay here without us? Because I can send Robbie and Nash back by themselves and stay here with you.”
Yes!my heart cries.Don’t leave me alone again!
“I’ll be fine. Robbie works so much, I can’t really see him doing the single dad thing. I mean, just the stories of getting Nash ready for school… can you imagine the chaos of that happening without you? I’m good, Nora. Promise.”
“It’s okay if you’re not okay, Violet,” Nora says. “It’s been a lot, with Mom and Dad passing.”
She doesn’t say it, but I see her think it.And you’re not exactly handling it well.
“I’m fine. Really. I mean, sure, it’s hard. It’s gonna be weird and quiet here after you guys leave. It doesn’t exactly feel like Christmas, but this is my life now and I have to figure out what that means. I have the bakery to focus on and who knows, maybe I’ll meet some rugged stranger who sweeps me off my feet.” I squeeze her hand and smile as honestly as I can. “I’m gonna be okay.”
