Page 81 of Sunset Catchers

“What’s your favorite holiday?” he inquires with some levity I try to steal for myself.

The answer pops into my mind without much coaxing. “I love Christmas time,” I say, and feel my mouth turn up into a small smile. “I love the snow.”

“I didn’t peg you for an outdoor girl.”

“Oh, I’m not,” I clarify. “I love the snow, as I watch it fall from my window while I sit inside, in the heat.” Levi chuckles, shaking his head with affection.

Christmas is my favorite holiday for one reason only: during that time of the year, my mother’s sourness would simmer down until it was barely an obstruction, and that’s when we got along the best. There was this greater force making her participate in The most wonderful time of the year. A magical holiday mist passing over our city, one she wasn’t immune to, forcing her to recreate some traditions that emerged from her own childhood. There was still some resentment while she did so, but she still did it.

We had a Christmas tree that we decorated with thrifted bulbs and multicolored incandescent lights. We sat to watch movies with hot chocolates and a healthy dose of whipped cream on top. We even went shopping together at the mall to listen to the jolly music and find gifts for each other that we’d wrap in funky paper and put under the tree. Santa Claus was never a thing at my house—even as a child, I was already too much of a realist to believe in such a magical concept.

For one week, every year, I got to wake up to this foreign lightheartedness. Until December 31st came and the midnight bells chimed, and my mother would appear so immensely sad, I’d started just hiding out in my room not to have to see such blatant and raw sadness marring her features in the midst of a new year beginning.

She didn’t celebrate; she mourned.

And how could I celebrate when I was the alleged reason behind such grief? I also hid so my subconscious wouldn’t end up putting the same expression over my own face as I got older. I celebrated, silently, on my own, plastering the biggest smile I could manage so muscle memory would remember to do it every January 1st.

“Do you spend Christmas alone?” The prospect of it is upsetting Levi.

“No,” I reassure him. “My best friend’s great-aunt is in charge of their family party, since she owns a mansion and she collects strays, so that’s where I go every year.”

The first year I lived on my own, when spending the holidays with my mother was out the frosted window, Junie had convinced me to go to her grand aunt’s house with her for Christmas Eve.

I drove there in the cold, prepared to be uncomfortable at joining a private family moment and armed with an excuse to dip out sooner than later, only to find her aunt’s house filled to full capacity with people. Members of family, colleagues, friends and strays like me were conversing in every room. There was merry music playing on speakers that was barely audible above all of the conversations. An impressive buffet was displayed on the twelve-foot island. It was a grand affair, and my presence was only noticed by my best friend and the other humans in our age range with whom we spent the evening drinking out of plastic champagne flutes while playing idiotic party games.

It was so completely the opposite of what my Christmases were prior to this night that I hadn’t felt an ounce of unease. I even went back on New Year’s eve and watched on with awe, as people were ecstatic about the new year. When they started shouting the countdown, I couldn’t do it, though, and I excused myself to go to the bathroom to live this moment alone. I watched in the mirror as my face pulled out its practiced smile as the new year was proclaimed, but it was hollow. As tears rolled down my cheeks, I wondered if my mother was in her own home, celebrating the new year for the first time in eighteen years. That’s how I have celebrated the holidays since then, lost in a crowd while I yearned to find my own circle of people. To grow my dot.

Levi is waiting for me to emerge from the confines of my brain. I push stray strands of my hair behind my ears before asking, “What’s your favorite holiday?”

“I love them all.”

“Come on, Levi. Don’t be that guy.”

He shrugs in contempt. “I know, I’m sorry. But it’s true. I love every chance I get to hang out with my whole family, and we always make it a point to meet up in the same place to celebrate all of the major holidays.”

“Pick one!” I urge him.

“Fine! I’d say Christmas too, then.”

“Now you’re just copying my answer.”

He snorts. “Yeah, but it’s still true. That’s the holiday where I get to spend the most time with my family.”

I let my head fall back. “You’re killing me here, big stud.”

“Is that too sentimental for you?”

“Yes!” I whine.

The curve of his lips widens to heart swooning territory. “Did your heart just grow three sizes too big, Win?”

I chuckle at the Grinch reference.

“Never,” I say with mirth. “What is it like, Christmas time in your family?”

By the joy he radiates, I’m ready for his depiction to be a punch to the gut.

“Kit has been hosting Christmas since forever, so that’s where we go. It’s not a grand affair, per se. We just hang out, play in the snow, drink mulled wine and hot chocolates. Eat way too much food. Play a lot of board games. Monopoly is our favorite.”