Page 105 of All the Beautiful Things
Dad went all out for Christmas. He used to do it all himself, and when we were kids, he and Mom would start planning the annual decorations right after Halloween ended. For the last several years, he’d hired a company but despite the fact it wasn’t done by him, it was still perfect.
At his back window was his Christmas tree, overflowing with homemade decorations since Melissa and I were four and made our first decorations in preschool classes. Over the years, my parents had kept every single decoration and if some of their foster kids weren’t able to take their decorations they made here when they left, then those ornaments stayed as well. In between the bare spaces were other ornaments, all bought with thought for Melissa and me every year. There were baseball ornaments. High-heeled shoes given to Melissa the year she became a teenager and a fashion diva. There were famous athletes and actresses hanging, all from our favorite movies, not to mention ornaments that mirrored our favorite childhood toys like Hot Wheels and the top hat from the Monopoly game. There was a pale pink ballet slipper, given to Melissa the year she graduated to pointe shoes. Our entire lives and all of our favorite memories hung from the tree, a scrapbook where, when we had time, I could walk Lilly through every single one with the memories of my childhood.
Dad probably needed a bigger tree, the ornaments so heavy on the thick, faux branches they bowed from the weight of it.
His tree was the least of the awe Lilly experienced, hand to her mouth as she scanned the living room he’d decked out like Santa’s Workshop. Every year the scene was different, but I wasn’t the least bit surprised he did something along these lines this year.
He wanted to give Lilly the Christmas she never had full of family and fun and what better way to do that than to give her Santa.
Based on the fact she’d already seen everything last night and was still taking in everything as if it was the first time, Dad succeeded.
In front of the fireplace was a large, wooden chair with thick red cushions, a throne for Santa like one you’d see at malls. The fire was burning, and presents were stacked all around the tree, in front of the fireplace. Fake wrapped boxes stacked in perfectly arranged piles where the real ones were wrapped and taped with the skill of a man who’d definitely given me his genes in the gift-wrapping department.
Like Lilly had done last night, the radio was to the Christmas music station and it played softly through his surround speakers. It would also filter through the bedrooms of the house and bathrooms via the Alexis he had set up. During Christmas, he made sure there was nowhere you could go to escape it.
“This makes your home last night look so silly in comparison.”
Someday, she’d have the confidence to know I loved everything she did for me, no matter how big or small. Until then, I had no problems reassuring her. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pulled her to my side. “It makes it perfect, because you didn’t know he went all out like this and yet still wanted me to have something. I loved everything about my condo, especially the sad little wounded tree.”
“There you are!” my dad called out, coming around the corner from the hallway. He was dressed in black dress pants, a white shirt with a tie decorated with hundreds of miniature Santa hats and holly bushels. “Merry Christmas!”
Despite his dress clothes and annual tie, his skin held a gray hue, making the dark purple circles beneath his eyes more pronounced. He looked like he’d lost weight since just last night.
And that pain in my chest burned hot, spread to my gut.
“Merry Christmas, David,” Lilly said.
Stepping out of my hold, she went to him and wrapped him in a hug he easily returned and was already prepared for with outstretched arms. “Thank you for this. I know said this last night, but your house… it’s so incredible.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
She flushed from his praise.
When she pulled back from their hug, she had tears in her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Nothing I wouldn’t do for any of my kids. You know that.”
“Yeah. I think I’m learning.”
She grinned at him, turning that burn in my chest into something less painful… but something more at the same time.
“You got any hugs for your old man?”
“Always.” I walked to my dad, hugged him tight, slapping his back until he let me go. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”
More voices filtered down from the hallway, easily recognized as Jenna and Brandon, and once we saw them, more Merry Christmas greetings were exchanged along with hugs.
“It’s about time you’re here,” Jenna said to Lilly. “I need help in the kitchen.”
Lilly’s eyes shot wide open, and she turned to me.
“Don’t look at me for help. Christmas morning has become Jenna’s domain.”
“I’m not sure you want my help,” Lilly admitted. “The only thing I can use in the kitchen to some degree of success is the microwave.”
“I’ll show you. You boys need anything to drink? Coffee? Bailey’s?”
“I’ll get it.”
