“I have no doubt about that, but I also like the idea of going out to have fun.”
“Very well, let’s go have fun.”
The place William chose was a bar located on the terrace of an important hotel. The place was on the rooftop, had beautiful panoramic views and was decorated to recreate an elegant garden. The waiter accompanied us to a table and left us the menu to choose the cocktail or drink we wanted to taste. William chose anOld Fashionedand I ordered aCosmopolitan.
“I was thinking of asking Xavier to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with us, but only if you agree. His family lives in the United States and this year he mentioned he doesn’t plan to travel. Would you mind if I invited him?”
“Not at all,” I said, shaking my head, “but first ask him if he doesn’t mind spending it with us. There’s a cultural expectation that says you should spend these holidays surrounded by people, but maybe he wants to be alone.”
“I don’t think so, but I’ll ask him.”
“If you think his solitude isn’t self-imposed, then don’t let him spend it alone. These holidays stir up many memories. Sometimes Christmas isn’t easy; we tend to remember much more the people who are no longer with us. I don’t know if that’s Xavier’s case, but it’s always better to have company.”
“I’ll ask him if he has any plans and, if he doesn’t, I’ll tell him to spend Christmas with us. I should warn you that Xavier doesn’t have much Christmas spirit, but he’ll surely make aneffort for Aurora and for you. Besides, he’s very fond of you,” he said, but as he said this last part, he frowned.
“Well, I think he’s a cheerful and nice person,” I said.
At that moment they brought our drinks and we remained silent. When the waiter left, William raised his glass.
“To us and to our family.”
“To us and our family,” I said, knowing they were the most important thing in my life.
After taking a sip, during which he kept his eyes fixed on mine the entire time, he put the glass on the table.
“Have you ever spent Christmas alone?” he asked.
“On some occasions,” I replied, not wanting to delve into those memories because I didn’t want to tarnish our moment.
“While you were married?”
“No, during the years I was married I spent it with Lino, and after we separated I always spent it with my great friends, with Sylvia or with Orson. I spent it alone when my father died because my mother and sister would make plans to spend it with some relative, but they wouldn’t include me.”
“You had told me about them, and just knowing what they did to you makes them insufferable to me and I don’t want them near us. Are you planning to invite them to our wedding?”
“I was planning to let them know, but don’t worry because they won’t come. I never mattered to them. I never knew why my mother hates me so much. I tried by all means to earn her affection and make her proud, but I couldn’t. My mind filled with whys, but without answers. Perhaps her affection has a limited quota and she gave it all to my sister, focusing her love and recognition on just one daughter,” I stated, shrugging my shoulders.
“To hell with her!” he exclaimed, furiously. “I don’t want her anywhere near you or my daughter. We’ll pretend that woman and your sister don’t exist. You don’t need anything from them.”
“They’re still my mother and sister,” I said, sadly.
“Being a father or mother isn’t just about conceiving a child, it’s much more than that. It’s unconditional love. A mother isn’t just someone who gives birth, just look at yourself with your capacity for love and devotion, with the purity of your love and the great love your heart holds for caring for children. You are Aurora’s mother, not the woman who gave birth to her, just as your mother isn’t yours because she didn’t give you the love or care that a mother should provide to her children,” he declared, firmly.
I looked at him, moved because his words wrapped around me as if they were a shield of protection.
“Thank you,” was all I could say with a choked voice.
“Thank you for being part of our lives.”
I couldn’t hold back anymore and stood up to hug him. My emotion was so overwhelming that I couldn’t speak because otherwise I would burst into tears. William pulled me to sit on his lap and hugged me tightly.
“Let’s go home,” he said, and it sounded like a promise.
“But you wanted us to be here, I don’t want to ruin the night,” I said, making an effort to find my voice.
“Ruin? How could you ruin anything? You only make everything more wonderful. Let’s go.”
We stood up and left the place.