“Told you I’d be right back. Let’s get out of here.” I took the cup from her hand and set it on a nearby tray and then led her outside. There was still quite a chill in the air, but the wind had died down, so it was calm and fresh. Not biting like it could be this time of year. “Are you warm enough?” I asked her as we made our way down the driveway.
“I am. I guess I’m getting used to it after a few days,” she replied.
“All the socializing and group activities can be a lot. Especially if you’re not used to all these people,” I said.
“Yeah, that is true. I work by myself, so I tend to have a fairly quiet life. Sometimes all of the hullabaloo of the holidays can be a bit much.”
“I get it,” I replied.
We walked through the neighborhood, most of the houses covered in lights. Their doors opening and closing with visitors coming and going. Samantha was quiet but seemed to be enjoying the peaceful walk. I led us toward the square, which wasn’t particularly far away.
“I don’t hate Christmas.”
“I never said you did.” I smiled and nudged her.
“Okay, no, you didn’t. But you think I do. I’m not a scrooge or anything.”
“You are far too pretty to be a scrooge,” I replied. She let out a little giggle. I’d hoped that she could see that I had no intention of pressuring her into telling me anything she didn’t want to and that she realized that it was just a walk, away from the crowd. Nothing more.
“Christmas was a huge deal in our house growing up,” she offered.
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“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. My parents went all out. It was a lot of fun. I always looked forward to it. It used to be my favorite time of year.”
“So what changed?” I asked, hoping she was ready to give me a hint.
“Christmas was always the big thing. It was the celebration of the year for our family. My parents did all kinds of crazy things to celebrate. When they died, I just didn’t want to celebrate it anymore. That probably seems a bit much, right?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“No?” she asked.
“Not to me. Your feelings are just that. They’re your feelings. Who’s to say how you should or shouldn’t feel? Loss affects everyone differently. Do I think you should make some new Christmas memories? Sure I do. But whether or not you do that is totally up to you.”
I led us toward the gazebo in the middle of the square. It was empty and completely lit up. When you stood inside of it with all the lights shining, it felt like being inside of a Christmas ornament to me. A glow surrounded you, and from a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree angle, you could look all around the town as if you were inside of a viewing window made just for you. “Come on.”
I took her arm in mine to lead her inside the gazebo and positioned her square in the middle. I wouldn’t have discovered this little trick, had my daughter not pointed it out to me. “Now spin around slowly and tell me what you see.”
She looked at me with skepticism, pursing her lips slightly. “What am I looking for?”
I laughed. “You’re not looking for anything, Sam. Just look.”
She humored me and started to spin slowly. The shimmering lights bounced off her blond hair, and as she twirled around, she looked like an angel.
“So what do you see?” I asked.
Still twirling slowly, she replied. “I see a toy store. I see the bank. I see an ice cream shop and bakery.” She stopped twirling. “This is silly. What am I supposed to see?”
I stepped up behind her and pulled her gently into me and started to spin us both slowly. “Here’s what I see,” I whispered. “I see Mrs. Manor’s flowerbed filled with little wooden snowmen, where there’s always flowers in the spring. I see a rocking horse in the toyshop window, which reminds me of a simpler time when toys weren’t so complicated. I see snow art drawn on the window of the bank with that weird spray snow. It reminds me of powdered sugar on cookies.” She softened into me, and I stopped spinning and turned her around to face me.
A soft smile appeared on her face. “I guess maybe I needed someone to show me a little.”
“Well, there’s one other thing I have to show you right now.” I grinned and pointed above us. Honestly, I hadn’t even planned it, but there was mistletoe hanging from the center of the gazebo. I was still holding on to her, and she hadn’t let go, either, as her eyes averted overhead as well.
She lowered her head back down and then smirked. “What the hell,” she said as she raised herself up on her toes, pressing her lips softly to mine.