Christmas was devalued to becoming nothing more than a reminder of my parents’ absence. It had been five years, which wasn’t long to me, and I hated the thought of pretending to be full of joy. Part of me knew that was ridiculous, but my solitary life had become my security blanket. In that moment, all I wanted to do was call my mom, of course. Instead, I made a note to try braving the crowds at the mall for a new coat before I left.
Chapter Two
Jason
I was working on my single-engine plane, tinkering as usual, listening to Emily sing Christmas carols while running around the hangar. It was getting to be about dinnertime, and I needed to wrap things up, but I kept stopping to enjoy her songs. Her tiny voice belted out “Jingle Bells” as loudly as she could and reverberated around the hangar and brought a smile to my face. I loved hearing her sing. As I put down my wrench to rub my hands together, I noticed that the cold weather had started to become biting. It was going to be one of our coldest winters.
“Em?” I called out, not entirely sure where she was although I could certainly hear her caroling.
“Present!” she yelled back. We’d established that as our code for calling out to each other from the time she could talk. I couldn’t even remember how it started, but she’d always announce herself as present if her name came up or was called out.
“You cold?” I yelled out. I had bundled her up in her favorite pink scarf with matching gloves and hat and a very loud hot pink puffy coat she insisted on having. I never imagined that my life would ever contain so much pink. She was probably sweating under everything I’d layered on her tiny body, but you could never be too careful.
“Nope!” she yelled back again. She clearly didn’t want to be bothered with her boring dad’s questions.
“You want to get our Christmas tree tomorrow?” I called out, grinning. I knew that would cause her to come running.
Suddenly skidding to a halt in front of me in all her pink, puffy glory, blond curls peeking out from under her hat, Emily placed her hand dramatically on her little hip. “Well it’s about time, Daddy. I thought you’d never ask. I mean Christmas is in, like, one week. Sheesh.” Her pink lips turned into a smile.
“It’s more than a week away. Come on now,” I replied.
“Listen, Dad, I’m just saying, the good ones could be gone by now, and it’s not our first rodeo.” She started to giggle. She was always cracking herself up, which in turn made me laugh all the time.
Putting my tools away in their box, I turned back to her, opening my arms for a hug. As she jumped into them, I squeezed her a little too tightly, causing her to let out a little squeal.
“Dad! You’re squishing me! Put me down!” she cried out.
“Okay, okay.” I gently set her down and kneeled down to her level. “You know I can’t help it. You’re getting so big, I just want to enjoy every minute of hugging you. When did I stop being Daddy and become just Dad?” She was growing up so fast that I could hardly stand it. It seemed like just yesterday she was learning to walk, and now she was running circles around me.
“Oh, Dad, you’re so dramatic. You’ll always be my daddy, but I’m a big girl now,” she said with a little eye roll and a huff. Talk about dramatic; she didn’t get that sass from me, that was for sure.
“All right, well, let’s get home and get some dinner. We can talk about what kind of tree to get this year after you do your homework,” I replied.
“Can we have mac and cheese for dinner?” she asked as she grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward our truck.
“Mac and cheese again? How about we try having some vegetables in our life, kid.” I knew this was a losing battle, but I had to try.
“How about we just have mac and cheese?” She grinned at me, knowing she would likely win this game tonight. I wanted to be a good dad. I had no idea what I was doing half the time, but she was an easy kid. Always well behaved, sweet, and kind to others, what more could I ask for really?
After we got buckled in, I peered in the rearview mirror at her in the backseat. “You want to go out for dinner instead?” I didn’t really feel like cooking, and this way we could have the best of both worlds.
Her tiny lips curled into a smile again. “Can we go to the Wallflower?” She raised her eyebrows at me expectantly.
Knowing that diner was where she’d want to go, and where I also wanted to go, I nodded my approval. “Anything for you, kid.”
Our little town of Friendship was small, and it didn’t take long to get there. I noticed a homeless man sitting outside on the bench between the diner and the teashop next door. It was too cold to be fending for yourself out there, especially at night. As I opened the door to let my little lady in, I made a note
to order him some food on our way out.
I waved to a few of the locals I knew, and Emily skipped around the diner hugging folks and saying hello while I grabbed us a booth.
“How’s it going, Jason?” she asked me, pen in hand. Her bright red hair was piled on top of her head in an old-fashioned bun, pulling tightly at the wrinkles that time had offered.
“It’s good, Diana. Hey, question for you,” I began.
“Sure, what is it?”
“That man outside, I’ve never seen him before, have you?” As I leaned back, I could see him on the bench, sitting quietly. He wasn’t begging or anything, but he did look cold, and his matted hair and beard appeared as if he’d been on the streets a while. Friendship wasn’t a place that had many people in his situation, and I’d never seen anyone homeless in our little town before.