Page 43 of All in for Christmas

I wake to the sound of snow ticking against the window.

The bed is empty. Cold. I stretch my arm behind me, feeling around under the covers.

Is Dean up making coffee? Why so early? “Dean?” I call sleepily.

It’s the day after Christmas. Neither of us has work today and we were up late last night, playing Santa and Mrs. Claus. A rush of excitement tears through me.

Wait.

Where’s the cozy smell of the cinnamon and clove holiday candle? The lingering scent of Dean’s spicy bodywash beside me on his pillow? Henry noisily crashing into the room shouting “Merry Kissmas!” and Eleanor and Scout bouncing onto the bed?

The tick, tick, tick ing of the snow hits harder against the glass.

My pulse skitters.

Something’s wrong.

I open my eyes and sit up. No.

I’m not dressed in Dean’s large T-shirt.

I’m wearing pj pants and a T-shirt of my own, and stark walls glare at me through the shadows.

Panic crests inside me like a tidal wave, drowning me in fear.

My eyes burn hot, but the rest of my body’s icy cold.

Gooseflesh rises on my legs, races up my arms and along the back of my neck.

I huddle under the covers, blankets scrunched against my chest. Chilly, freezing.

This isn’t our room. Our house.

Where’s Dean? Where’s my family?

Darkness closes in and my head reels.

No, no, no, no. No.

I don’t want to believe it, I don’t.

Shock shoots through me like a lightning bolt, bitterly hot and jagged, and I choke back a sob. “Dean?” Then another. “Eleanor?” I survey the room, and the open door to the hall, another to the bathroom. My eyes leak tears. “ Henry? ” My pitiful wail bounces off the ceiling. “ Scout? ”

But none of them are here.

Please, no.

Please, please, please. Noooo.

How? Why?

Mary Christmas said, “All right!”

I thought she’d given me her blessing to stay there forever with Dean and my new family.

After I begged and explained how greatly I’d grown, all that I’d learned, and how I’d come to see what was truly important in my life.

My heart breaks at another explanation. Maybe when Mary Christmas said “All right!” she was merely agreeing to let me stay through Christmas Day?

And, if that’s the case, maybe experiencing a once-in-a-lifetime Christmas once was better than never getting to experience one at all. But how gut-wrenching to lose it now.

But wait. Does that mean that Christmas is over?

Has the magic ended? Is today December twenty-sixth?

I lift the remote from my nightstand and press a button.

The heavy curtains covering the plate-glass window drag apart, opening along their tracks.

Snow-covered mountains form a jagged ridge in the distance, their spindly pine forests doused in white.

The town of Boone’s below, speckled with drifts like a Christmas village in a snow globe.

So what day is it now?

I push back the covers and stand. My legs wobble and I grab my nightstand.

My dream journal lies open on top of it.

I pick it up and read the last entry, dated December nineteenth.

I’d written one thing: Relationship with Dean.

Overwhelming sadness drenches me like pouring rain as I set my dream journal down.

I didn’t need to schedule my dreams in advance in that other world, because everything about it was picture perfect.

Including my relationship with Dean. How could I have lost him?

How could I have lost all of them? How? Was none of it real? Could it all have been a dream?

I steady myself on my feet and stroll zombie-like into my darkened kitchen.

Flip on a light, turn on the coffee maker.

The view through the living area window is even lovelier than the one from the bedroom, but a treadmill stands in the way.

A robotic dog poses in a chair. A line of Christmas tree ornaments adorns the gas fireplace’s mantel.

I sigh weightily. No Christmas tree in sight.

My heart shatters in anguish and I press my hands to my ravaged chest to hold it in.

Then turn slowly, slowly toward the advent calendar.

The snowman’s in the pocket for Day Twenty, the poinsettia’s in the pocket for Day Twenty-One.

A pair of ice skates are stuffed into Day Twenty-Two.

A Christmas candle’s in Day Twenty-Three.

Santa’s jolly round face waits in Day Twenty-Four.

None have been removed from their pockets and placed on the advent calendar or attached to its felt Christmas tree.

Memories of the past six days flood me, filling me with so much longing and misty joy. What a truly wonderful world that was. What an amazing life we had. My soul cries out into the empty void that was my heart. Now everything’s gone in one gigantic poof!

I glumly take the snowman from the Day Twenty pocket and paste him on the advent calendar’s green felt Christmas tree, wishing this simple act could bring my other life back to me, instinctively knowing it won’t.

I run my fingers through my hair, tuck it back behind my ear. Hang on. It’s different .

I hurry down the hall and into the bathroom and turn on the light.

High-end fixtures gleam around me as I gape in the mirror at the woman with bluntly cut brown hair.

I pull up my baggy T-shirt and slightly push down my pj pants behind me, stealing a look over my shoulder at my lower back. No butterfly tattoo, either.

My spirit flags. Which means no tight relationship with my girlfriends, more than likely.

No real dog. No family. No homey bungalow brimming with love and joy.

I frown at my reflection in the mirror, missing my pink highlights and flirty layers.

Missing the person I was. Despite all I didn’t have , I had so many valuable things worth cherishing.

The love and support of a caring husband, the affection and adoration of two precious kids.

The sweet attentiveness of our loyal dog.

A mom that I was finally getting to know—and understand—better.

Mom.

I check my sports watch, seeing it’s slightly after seven.

I didn’t have a high-tech watch to keep track of my steps or daily activities in the other realm.

I chuckle sadly at the absurd notion that I didn’t even have a working cell phone for most of the time I was there.

Much less a computer, but still. I got by okay.

I find my cell phone charging on my dresser, and it’s the newer model I remember purchasing.

Today’s date shines back at me: December twentieth of the current year.

Right. I’m exactly back where I left off in this reality, which makes sense, according to what Mary Christmas told me.

Since I can’t be in two places at once, this reality didn’t exist while I was in the other one—therefore, time here stood still.

I haven’t missed a single day. Which means I’m back in time to launch Paws and Read!

Yes. My heart thumps happily. The party in the gym’s going to happen!

So that’s a good thing about being back.

Though I’ve been torn away from the other world, there’s joy present in this universe, and the potential to make new memories.

I consider Mom and her medical tests. At least now I’ll be here to take her for those on Wednesday, and together we can face whatever lies ahead.

I issue a silent prayer that those will only be positive and happy things. But no matter what, I’m here for her.

Now that I’m back, will I get a second chance with Dean?

And what about Mom meeting Roger? Maybe all is not lost. I learned so much in the other reality about the importance of love and family.

Perhaps that’s what I was meant to do all along.

Similar to how Ebenezer Scrooge became enlightened in A Christmas Carol .

My soul aches because I miss my kids, and Scout.

But maybe they were specters of children, and a sweet pet, yet to come?

I check my phone for recent text messages but find nothing from my old girlfriend group, only messages from Mom.

The last one’s a confirmation about our lunch at Beaumont’s today.

I stare into the mirror over my dresser, still adjusting to my altered looks.

My reflection shows my bland haircut and pale blue eyes.

Incredibly sad and discouraged face. But, this time, something else catches my attention.

A sparkly piece of jewelry hangs from around my neck, draping down the front of my T-shirt.

My heart pounds. No. Impossible. I’ve never owned anything like this before.

I lightly caress it with my fingers, hold the piece up in the light.

It’s a ruby heart pendant on a delicate gold chain. My Christmas gift from Dean.

Hope blooms in my heart. Could my keeping his necklace have something to do with our future? Is it possible it’s not too late to find my happy ending? Maybe when I see Mom at Beaumont’s, she’ll be able to help me. She is, after all, my mom.

Mom gapes at me over her glass of Chablis. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Can you repeat that?”

“Which part?” I take a forkful of my ham and cheddar quiche, enjoying its savory goodness. The burgers here are fantastic, but given that I had one only a few days ago, I opted for something different.

She takes a long sip of wine. “All of it?”

We opened our Christmas gifts to each other while waiting on our lunches.

She loves her handcrafted blue and green earrings, and I adore my cute Christmas tree ornament that looks like a yellow labrador retriever wearing a Santa hat.

She’s so proud of me for starting my Paws and Read program, and I’m honestly proud of myself. Will the rest of my life work out, too?

“Okay.” I lower my voice and lean forward so others don’t overhear us in the bustling bistro. “When I went to bed last night I was here.”