Hello Again (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

December 2012: Curious Christmas

A/N: Thanks to my friends on FB who have given me so much input and help with this chapter (if you're not friends with me, add me!), and the next chapter. @Bluebell84, @redwritinghood09, @twiddles_, Rae P, @fionarhiannon, @madametango, Maria G, Suvi, Sarah D, Suzelle, Sara, @jroriente, Kate C, Helen, and anyone else who has helped and contributed!  You guys keep me laughing and motivated.

To all you WP readers-- thank you. I love all your comments and reactions, and your responses keep me going.  :D

“I’m not coming.” I pull at the knit of my sweater, then brace myself for impact. 

“You bitch. You are coming. I’m about to get on the fucking plane.” Santos spits out, his voice shrill and about two octaves too high.  I groan and slump back against my couch.  It’s two days until Christmas.  I’m sitting in my tiny apartment, wearing about three layers of sweaters and trying to forget that the holidays are looming.

“I know. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to feel like you shouldn’t go.  But I just can’t, Santos.” I take a breath and then wait.  The line is quiet for a minute, and I’m afraid he’s hung up.

“Santos?”

“You really haven’t talked to him in four months?” He asks finally.  Tom’s face pops into my head, and I feel a heaviness settle onto my shoulders. I don’t want to talk about him, but he’s often one of Santos’ favorite subjects. It goes Cillian, Tom Hiddleston, and Zac Efron, in that order.

“We don’t have anything to say to each other.  I don’t think it’s appropriate that I show up at his family’s home for Christmas.” I bite on my lip.  It’s not something I’m happy about.  Spending Christmas with the Hiddleston’s has long been one of the highlights of my year for the past two years.  It’s just about the only “family” gathering I get to have.  

This year, Aunt Tara called and told me I was welcome to come to their house for Christmas, but then I was told my father would be there.  And I just don’t feel like dealing with him.  Besides his bi-monthly call to “check in” and usually ask for money or some hand out, I don’t feel the need to see him. 

And my mother is a whole other story.  I haven’t talked to her in god know’s how long.  I’m not even sure if she’s still in New York.  Last I heard, she was remarrying someone she’d known for about three months.  Good luck.

“You’re honestly killing me.  Listen, I’ve got to get on this fucking plane.  I will call you when I’m in Sandbanks.” Santos sounds angry, and agitated, but it’s nothing I haven’t faced before.

“Okay. Safe flight.” I sigh and hang up before he can start yelling again.  I waited so long to tell him because I didn’t want it to keep him from going.  The Christmas get together is just about all the family time Santos gets as well.

Just as I hang up, my phone starts ringing again.  I wince, thinking it’s Santos, ready to curse me out again, but it’s not.

“Hi Mary.” I smile as I answer.

“So what are you up to?” She asks, her voice carefree and light.

“Nothing really.  I think I’m going to binge watch some tv, and then rearrange my sock drawer.” I laugh, knowing that this is partially true.

“Holiday plans?” She asks, ignoring my flippant answer.

“Nothing really.”

“Well, that’s not sad at all.” Mary scoffs.  “You’re welcome to come with me.  I’m going to my ex-mother in laws. Yes, you heard that right.  It’s a whole big thing.  Not awkward at all.  You can meet my ex, and then we can make fun of him the whole time.” She says with a laugh.  I smile, knowing it must be quite a circus.  I’ve heard  a lot about her ex husband, and the fact that Mary still regularly sees him (platonically only, except for one slip up two years ago at a new year’s party, understandably).