Page 35 of Have a Bear-y Little Christmas
“Wow!” Max said without a hint of irony. “You’re really fast! You should teach me how to run when I’m feeling better. That would be cool AF.”
“Max! Language!” Jeannie hissed, and I was more than a bit confused because I hadn’t heard any swear words.
“Sorry, Mama. I meant that would be cool as heck.”
Oh. Now I got it. There was a whole world of slang that I had no idea about because neither of my daughters really used it—both the benefit and detriment of having a well-read eldest daughter.
“I can do that!” Eva agreed happily.
The two of them continued to discuss grand running plans while Addy focused on pushing the wheelchair over the uneven ground of the park. Finally, we reached the deeper snow and pathway of the Winter Wonderland. They must have had the snow shipped in or had some machine making it like ski resorts did, because even though our winter was cold, there hadn’t been enough precipitation for a satisfying deep layer of snow. Granted, as a bear I was pretty biased about what was a good amount of snow, but most people would agree that a single inch for Christmas was a bit of a let-down.
“Hey everyone,” I said as the tour guide dismissed us and encouraged everyone to take the time to visit Santa’s Workshop. “Let’s go get in the line before it’s too long, shall we?”
“Yeah!” the girls agreed in unison.
“Here, Addy,” Jeannie said, quickly moving forward. “I’ll go ahead and take over from here. Me and Max are going to take a lap around to check out the rest of the Winter Wonderland. We’ll meet you here once you’re done.”
Now that threw me through a loop, and I sent her a curious look. “You don’t want any pictures?”
Almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that although we were sharing the joy of Christmasand the lights, I had assumed that she celebrated the same as me. Perhaps her beliefs didn’t include Santa as part of the celebrations, or perhaps she was one of those parents who didn’t like to lie about the tooth fairy and other mythical creatures, so she didn’t celebrate that part of the holiday. Seemed a bit far-fetched, but it was on me for assuming.
“The photos are like twenty dollars a pop,” she murmured, and I knew it was mostly for me to hear, not the girls.
That was when I understood.
It all added up. From them wearing the exact same coats, to the somewhat worn and mismatched gloves, scarves, and other protections. Her comments about money. Not wanting to spend money at the rink. And just being a single mother. I should have known, especially considering how bad the economy was. I couldn’t imagine what my life or Zara’s would be like if we didn’t have the support of our entire clan. It had really put us ahead and allowed me to build my landscaping business from the ground up.
Fuck, I’d really put my foot into it, hadn’t I?
“Don’t worry about that,” I said quickly, wanting to move past my blunder.
Jeannie’s brows knit together, and I could tell she was feeling that same guilt at accepting any help. And while I got it—I really did—I wished I could brush away all that concern for her. I didn’t pity her, and I wasn’t going to use this against her later, but she had no way of knowing that. It was a splash of cold water to the face and a reminder that we were strangers, even if it didn’t feel that way when we talked to each other.
“No, no, that’s okay. Max and I will have so much fun wandering around. Won’t we, Max?”
“Would it be okay if we took a photo with Santa, Mama?”
Double fuck. I hadn’t meant to, but I’d really put her in an awkward situation.
“Addy, why don’t you take Max over to the line for a little bit, and we’ll catch up?”
My daughter’s eyes flicked from me to her new friend, and I saw a flicker of understanding there, but thankfully she didn’t say anything. She simply gave one of her resolute nods and gripped the handles of the wheelchair once again.
“Did you know that the origin of Santa Claus can be traced back to a fourth century Greek bishop named St. Nicholas?” she said as she pushed him forward.
Once they were out of earshot, I lowered my voice so there was no way that anybody but us could hear. “Sorry for taking the lead there, but seriously, Jeannie, I would love to be able to give Max this gift.”
“You really don’t have to. I didn’t invite you here to get stuff out of you!”
My heart sank. What kind of life had Jeannie led where she thought someone would assume that of her? I knew it didn’t come from nowhere, so it made me a bit sad.
“I would never dream that you were in a million years. Please, I know we’ve just met, but I really am moved by you and Max. And honestly, I think my daughters would kick my butt if he didn’t go over there with them. Please, let me celebrate the Christmas spirit right now and spread a little joy.” I gestured toward the line where a group of kids had spontaneously broken out into a raucous rendition of “Frosty The Snowman”. “’Tis the season, after all.”
A myriad of emotions spilled across her face, and it seemed like two in particular were warring against each other—the starry-eyed happiness from earlier and doubt. I couldn’t blame her for having it, but I wished she didn’t have to. Sometimes, the world could be so cruel.
“Okay,” she said finally. “It is for Max, after all.”
“It is,” I agreed, even though we both knew that wasn’t entirely true. As someone who was acutely aware of how quickly my children were going to grow, I knew how precious it was to document every milestone. It didn’t exactly take a psychic to guess Jeannie would probably feel the same.
