New York, the big apple of my heart

New York, the big apple of my heart: Chapter 18

Christmas.

Christmas is the kind of holiday every person dreams of.

Families eat supper around a good, fresh, well cooked turkey, Christmas songs in the background. They talk. Children often go to bed late, then dream of Santa Claus who will come at midnight and put under the tree some presents.

The tree. The most important symbol of Christmas. No Christmas without a tree, right?

Then the presents. You wait for those presents the whole year, pretending to have been nice all through the year when you write your list of presents.

You think of Christmas everyday, as December passes, enjoying one nice chocolate of the calendar hanging on your wall, one at a time, one every day.

And when you're small, other older kids try to ruin Santa Claus's myth; but even though your friends end up believing those rubbish, you, deep inside you, will hang on the idea some more years until you find it absurd, or see your mom and dad putting the presents under the tree, which is the least enjoyable way of ruining all the confidence and dreams you have and you had for the past few years. You realise afterwards that those bullies, that tried to take away your faith in Santa Claus, and who are so stupid you think they are always wrong end up being the right ones.

No Christmas without a tree, I say, decorated by all the family that laughs and have fun hanging those nice, bright, shiny decorations on the branches.

In my house, things are different. Or at least they were.

No Christmas at my house. I never, ever spent Christmas with my mom. I used to spend it with the Thompsons, who are so nice they would by me a present and George would put it with his kids' under the tree as we slept.

This year, this year was different.

* * *

"Mom! I'm home!!" I shouted as I entered the apartment, still freezing under the coat I was wearing.

"Whoa, Mom, what's that?" I said, astonished, entering the living room.

"A Christmas tree" she answered, so proud of herself.

"A Christmas tree? Mom, did you bump your head or got bitten by something that made you lose your mind? We NEVER celebrated Christmas. Not together, not even at home, never."

"I've changed, lollipop, and so did the rules. We are celebrating christmas at home this year. Come help me put the lights on" she ordered.

In chock, I went to my room to put my things. It was a 23 December, we had two school-free weeks for the holidays. As I passed in front of Mom's room, I saw a big bouquet of flowers on her desk.

"MOM?" I yelled. "Who are the flowers from?"

"Dave. Remember him? the cute guy that offered me a job? He asked me to go to dinner with him on Christmas Eve but I refused because I want to spend my Christmas with my daughter. So I invited him over" she said, smiling, hanging a mistletoe on the ceiling.

"You did? I thought you were done with dating. And that's why you're hanging a mistletoe?"

"No. Yes. But Nelly says it's good luck."

Nelly again. I mean, she's as stupid as her daughter, how can my mother believe her?

"Good luck my ass." I mumbled.

I began to undo the lights for the tree.

"Honey, did you do the pregnancy test I asked you to do?" Mom said, a serious look on her face.