Taking a deep breath, January slipped her hand free from Deckard’s, needing the space so she could garner some strength and ready herself for the ridicule she knew was going to come. Her reasons for hating Christmas were childish – she knew that, but she couldn’t help it either.
Licking her lips, she thought she heard Deckard unsuccessfully biting back a groan as her tongue peaked out. It gave her only the slightest hint of satisfaction.
“Well, like I told you first, I hate that Christmas invades my favorite holidays. Holidays that specifically involve food and dressing up. I also hate that my favorite music stations start playing Christmas music incessantly the minute Thanksgiving is over – sometimes even sooner. And yes, I know that I could find a new station or listen online, but that’s not the point. I shouldn’t have to.” Deckard smartly remained silent as January continued her rant. She was on a roll now and didn’t want any interruptions. “And the forced cheer. Ugh. I am automatically typecast as a grump or Scrooge if I’m not filled with Christmas cheer twenty-four seven. I am called a bitch if I decline holiday parties because I’m not festive.
“And with my family, the Christmas cheer has to be turned on at all times, and to be honest, it’s exhausting.”
“I’m sorry, January. What about your birthday?”
“I’m getting there. I just need a minute.”
In her mind, she’s reliving her childhood - the teasing, name-calling, lies. All of it was painful and made her chest ache. It took her closing her eyes and shutting herself away from the world that she found the courage to continue.
“I have three siblings, all with names that match their birth months. June, April, and Augustus. My brother was the youngest and my parents were done having kids until I surprised everyone when my brother was nine.
“My mother was elated, she always wanted a big family, and another child was a miracle in her eyes. My due date was for January 13 and my parents were tickled to be able to name me January. To them, it was a sign. They had everything monogrammed and had started referring to me by my name from the day they learned my gender.
“But there were complications and I was born three weeks early – on Christmas Eve. My mother almost died giving birth to me and I would have ruined my entire family’s Christmas. My brother and sister’s had to spend Christmas night at the hospital with my parents, all praying that my mom lived. Then when she pulled through, they realized that Santa had missed them. There was no Christmas that year.
“I know my parents don’t blame me for it, but my siblings did for a long time, and I did too.”
Chiming in, Deckard said, “January, none of that was your fault. You were an innocent baby. Sometimes bad things happen. And I’m sure it was simply an accident that your parents forgot to have gifts ready under the tree.”
January was too deep into her self-loathing that she barely heard his consolation. She continued, “The teasing and name-calling started when I began kindergarten. I was excited that my birthday fell the day before Christmas, even though it was almost impossible to celebrate because Christmas overshadowed everything. But I was little and didn’t understand. I always thought the hubbub was for me, you know?
“The kids would say that my parents were dumb and didn’t know their months, or they would call me a mistake. It was hard. And my parents tried their hardest to make sure that I had my own little celebration for my birthday, but classmates and family could never come because they were off on a break or doing their own Christmas festivities. When I turned seven, my parents stopped trying to throw parties because they could see how much it hurt me to have no one attend.
“As I got a little older, I started to despise the holiday more and more.”
“I’m sensing this isn’t the end of the story,” Deckard stated.
“Not even close,” January snickered coldly. “My oldest sister is about fourteen years older than me. She and her boyfriend got engaged one summer and, of course, wanted a winter wedding – the weekend before Christmas that year, on winter solstice.
“My tenth birthday was coming up and all I wanted was a Barbie Dream House. I was a little too old to be playing with them, but I didn’t really care what anyone thought of me at that point. I didn’t have many friends.
“Anyway, I had been dropping hints like crazy all year that the house was what I wanted for my birthday. But my parents were so absorbed with the wedding and Christmas that they forgot.”
“They didn’t get you the Dream House?” Deckard asked.
“They didn’t get me anything. My entire family forgot my birthday that year. So, I stopped celebrating. And when I went to college, I began telling everyone that my birthday was in January whenever someone asked.”
“Damn,” the man sitting across from her mumbled, dumbfounded.
“The thing is. . .I love winter. I think it’s beautiful, especially here in Pineville. I love the snow and I love the quiet that comes with it.” Grunting at her own assertion, January said, “I bet you think I’m crazy.”
Opening her eyes, she peered across the table at him and she was surprised at what she saw. Deckard didn’t appear to pity her as she had imagined. No, he seemed angry. His jaw cracked as he ground his teeth against each other and his right eyebrow seemed to have acquired a twitch.
“Deckard, are you okay?” she asked as she reached for the same hand that had held hers earlier. January was glad when he gripped her hand in return. She was afraid that voicing her feelings would have him running for the hills or trying to change her mind as others had done in the past. But Deckard’s expression was far from one she had seen before. He appeared angry and January didn’t understand why.
“I just. . . I get it and I wish that there was a way I could fix all of that for you. And most of all? I’m so damn angry at your family that I can barely remain sitting here and not storm off toward your parent’s house and giving them a piece of my mind.”
“That’s sweet of you, Deckard. But you don’t need to fight my battles. I’m sure my family felt bad enough.”
“Well, someone should.”
She felt awkward having this man she barely knew feel as if he needed to justify her feelings, but at the same time, it felt good. Like, she wasn’t alone anymore. And Deckard was definitely someone that she wanted to have around more often, despite Samantha’s ribbing on her.
“It’s okay, Deckard.”