“I was eight. I don’t remember much about those early Christmases. But, yes, Santa visited. I had a stocking, and we had a tree. All that traditional stuff. I’ve got pictures around here somewhere.” His eyes looked misty, but I knew Grey wasn’t going to crack reminiscing about his childhood holidays. He always glossed over the topic.
“I want you to have that again.” I pulled on his arm, holding him back in our bedroom. “Please come home with me. My parents do all of that stuff. And it’s actually cold in North Carolina. It feels like Christmas there.” Don’t get me wrong, I loved palm trees, but they didn’t really scream Christmas spirit. We needed a good showing of Douglas firs.
“I appreciate it, but you and I will have Christmas when you get back. Marin’s parents have that big party for New Year’s Eve. We’ve got lots of other holiday stuff planned.”
I didn’t want to get in an argument with him during my last few hours in Texas. I knew when to give him some space.
“All right.” I cut the lights as we walked out of the room. The little beach cottage suddenly seemed sad and depressing. I had placed a poinsettia on the coffee table, and had strung up a few lights on the railing, but we opted not to add much since we wouldn’t be together on Christmas Day. Now, I regretted it. Grey needed to know how much fun Christmas could be. Why hadn’t I decorated the cottage like a Christmas wonderland?
I vowed right then we would never spend Christmas apart again. This would be the first and last time.
I followed him down the flight of stairs to the parking pad under the house where his truck was parked. We had to drive to the airport in Brownsville. At least I had some time with him before I had to leave. The wind whipped off the beach, and I caught my hair in a side ponytail as I climbed into the truck.
“Are we supposed to get a storm or something?” I hadn’t paid attention to the South Padre weather lately. I was too busy watching the snow report back home. The local meteorologists were calling for five to six inches of fresh powder. I couldn’t wait.
“Nothing for you to worry about. Your flight will be out of here before it hits the beach.” He buckled his seat belt and put the truck in reverse.
I watched the blue beach cottage fade in the door’s mirror. This was home now, but I was saying good-bye to it for an entire week. Nothing about this felt right.
“Eden! Eden!” my parents called out from the other side of the baggage carousel. I had barely enough time to close the cap on my water bottle before they both embraced me in a bear hug.
“Hi, Mom, Dad.” I squeezed them tightly.
“How was your flight?” My father looked me up and down. It had been a few months, but I noticed the touches of gray around his ears and in his bangs. My father had always had almost jet-black hair.
“Good.” How was I supposed to say the entire time I wanted to beg the pilot to turn the plane around and take me back to Texas?
“Honey, we are so glad you’re home.” My mother gave me an extra squeeze. “Where’s your coat? You need a coat. It’s going to snow tomorrow.”
It looked as if she had just come from the yoga studio. I could see her tight black pants peeking out from under her long wool coat. Her blond hair hung loosely around her shoulders as if she shook it out from a bun on her way into the airport.
“I packed it. It’s not exactly cold on the island, and I didn’t want to worry about keeping up with it on the plane.”
“I’ll get your luggage.” My father walked over to the rotating luggage, wedging himself between passengers.
“Are you ok?” Mom slung an arm around my shoulder.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I leaned into her, needing a little motherly support.
“I know you’re disappointed Grey’s not with you.”
I shrugged. “We are spending the second half of the holidays together. Besides that, he can’t just up and leave the Palm. We’re getting ready to do an extensive renovation.”
We walked under a sparkling set of candy canes hanging from one of the airport pillars. “Everyone needs time off from work. I’m just sorry we aren’t going to get to meet him. You do live together. I hoped we would have met him by now.”
“I know, Mom. Soon. You’ll get to meet him soon. We’ll plan something.” I said it, but didn’t believe it. With the upcoming condo conversion, I had no idea when either of us would have another break again. Mason had started the reconstruction plans as soon as the ink was dry on the contract. That guy didn’t mess around.
My father appeared triumphantly with my suitcase in hand. “Here it is, pumpkin. You girls ready?”
We both nodded and followed him out of the airport.
I hadn’t been home since I drove out of my parents’ driveway in September. I smiled when I saw the candles in the windows and the light-up Santa Claus my father always attached to the front porch. When I was a little girl, I thought that Santa was the most beautiful Christmas decoration on the street. All the neighbors’ houses were decorated with white and colored lights. I sighed. This felt like Christmas.