Calls for Christmas

Chapter Three

One Year Later/Christmas Eve

I closed my eyes peaceably and lay back into the soft cushions of the old couch. I swayed slightly to the version of Silent Night emanating from my outdated stereo and pressed my fist into the sofa. It had belonged to both Edward and I once, years ago, and too many memories flooded my mind when I recalled those happy days.

I opened my eyes and sighed, knowing that my obsession was dangerous. Because of it I wasn’t going to Alice’s house this year, anticipating further pain if I did. The only excuse I could offer myself was that this behavior was a once a year occurrence on Christmas Eve. The rest of the year I could actually behave normally, enjoying the company of my friends, concentrating on work, and of course my editor kept me constantly on my toes, especially now that my writing was starting to get recognized. I was allowed to be miserable one day a year.

Even if it was on the one day when I should have been happiest.

Christmas had always been a magical season to me, and the years I spent it with Edward were even more wonderful. He grudgingly accepted my aversion to gifts—particularly expensive ones—and he would always manage to surprise me with his increasingly unique homemade presents. My favorite would always be the scarf that he’d attempted to knit for me, which I’d mistaken for a hat when I first opened it. I loved it anyway, because Edward had obviously put so much effort into making it. My other favorite was the homemade CD that contained his own piano compositions, including the lullaby he’d written for me when we first met.

I sighed longingly and focused on the Christmas tree in front of me. I’d just finished decorating its plastic, fake branches a few moments earlier, and its glittering lights and bright ornaments were a sharp contrast to my mood.

The phone rang, just like I knew it would. I had come to expect that Edward would always call, no matter what had occurred the previous year. The knowledge squeezed my heart with a small warmth, but it did nothing to ease the pain completely. It was worse this year now that the heartache was coupled with guilt. I felt horrible realizing that it was my fault Alice hadn’t seen her brother in years.