“She does,” Dad agrees, and for a split second, I forgot that he was next to me. Olivia has that effect on me. Anytime she’s in the room, she’s all I can focus on.
“Davis, are you coming with us?” Olivia asks.
He’s bundled up like the rest of us, a thick blanket draped over his thin legs, and he’s pulling on a fuzzy pair of earmuffs. “Yeah, for as long as she will let me,” he says, pointing a thumb at his nurse.
She smiles softly at him. “You’ll thank me later for not letting you freeze out there.”
“All right. Is everyone ready to go?” Nonni announces at the front of our group.
Several ‘yeses’ fill the room, Emma’s being the loudest as she adds, “I want to see Santa!”
Nonni waves for us to follow her as she opens the front door, the chilled wind seeps through, and I hear my dad hiss. His nurse swats him on the shoulder playfully.
“See. I told you it was cold.”
“I believed you,” he adds, chuckling under his breath, and wraps the blanket tighter around himself. For the first time, I find pity filling my heart for him. I wonder how it must feel to be told that your life is almost over, to regret your life choices without enough time to fix them.
“Can we talk? When we get back?” I lean down and ask.
There’s surprise written on his face before he nods and reaches out to pat my arm. “Yes, of course. I’d appreciate it.”
I do my best to smile down at him before we’re shoved out the door. Olivia wraps her arms around mine, giving my bicep a gentle squeeze, and grins up at me proudly. I lean in to give her forehead a quick peck, relishing as her breath hitches, before leading us outside.
“Luke! Olivia! Look! Bernie moved!” we hear Emma squeal as she jumps from her father’s arms and rushes toward the snowman.
The snow has started melting away, revealing patches of green grass amongst the white powder, however Bernie stands proudly, still intact right where Olivia and I had left him. Olivia walks over to wrap Emma into a hug.
“I told you he liked to move when people weren’t around.”
“Don’t you wander off too far, Bernie. We’ll be back in a little bit,” Emma whispers to the snowman before rushing back to her parents.
“I’m going to have to move him again, aren’t I?” I say once Olivia is back at my side, her arm weaving around mine.
She gives me a pat, laughing as she replies, “Yup. Let’s hang in the back and move him once Emma is out of sight.”
We quickly see an opportunity as Emma runsoff, and together we push Bernie forward toward the sidewalk where more snow is. His head almost falls off, but luckily, Olivia catches it to keep it in place. We fix his hat and scarf before moving his arms to appear like he’s waving. Once we’re satisfied, we hold hands and sprint back to the family.
Olivia begins singing, ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,’ and eventually, everyone joins in as we walk through the neighborhood and admire all the lights. Every house is decked out with different themes. One house has a moving light display of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Another has Frosty the Snowman and his buddies.
“I counted fifty-six Santas at this house,” Olivia announces before she recounts to make sure she’s right. Sure enough, this home has every type of Santa display you could think of on their house and lawn.
“How much do you think their electric bill costs during this time of year?” I ask and point to the next house, which is completely covered in Christmas lights—the kind of display that flashes to the beat of a song.
“Probably more than we could even imagine.”
She stops walking to appreciate the lights for a moment, and all I can do is admire her. The way the lights brighten her already sparkling smile. How they twinkle in the reflection in her eyes. How she crinkles her nose when she notices me staring at her. She takes my hand and tugs me toward my family.
Olivia leans into me, and her arm loops through mine as she laughs at something Jerrica said. Everything with Olivia feels effortless—like she’s already mine. But she’s not. And she has no idea how much that’s messing with me.
I’ve spent years pushing the feelings down, hiding them behind jokes and late-night movie marathons and pretending I didn’t notice the way her smile made everything feel a little lighter. But now, every time she slips her fingers through mine, every time she rests her head on my shoulder like she belongs there… I start to wonder if maybe I was wrong to keep quiet.
If this is pretend, then I don’t want reality unless she’s in it, but how do I risk asking for more when she’s the one person I can’t bear to lose?
“There are a few food trucks that are set up each year, and one that I am excited to show you is nothing but different types of hot chocolate. There’s an ice-skating rink, horse-and-buggy rides through the rest of the neighborhood, and of course, Santa.”
She whips her head to me, her eyebrows furrowing. “I can’t believe how much you’ve downplayed your Christmases with your family. You’ve never told me how incredible everything is here. I would much rather experience this magical place every year.”
“You make everything just as magical, Liv. I would rather experience Christmaswithyou,” I add, feeling brave as I reach up to lift her chin until her eyes connect with mine. She looks as if she’s trying to hold in a laugh.
