The Alternate Journey Part Two

Chapter 4

As far back as Maddie could remember, she had loved the holidays. She loved the decorations and the music. She loved the snow and the sweaters and the way her spirit lifted. Even in the years following her father's death, she had found a way to find that same spirit and community in the heat of Bendal. It had always been one of her most favorite times of year.

And then she had fallen in love with Bishop. The way he lived his life, the happiness and excitement that came with him, had only served to magnify the magic of the season. He just seemed to exude the spirit of it all. She remembered their first Christmas together with bright, vivid detail; the sunrise in Paris, the beautiful couches—which were still in her living room. She remembered the way he had come to her without batting an eye, how he had taken the Chunnel and rescued her from her solitary Christmas at Collins and Khenda's home. She remembered stuffing herself with food and champagne and so much laughter.

Even now, even when she remembered that he was gone, remembering that Christmas made her smile. He had been in love with her then, though neither of them really knew it. But she had given him that painting that he had kept and he had given her more than she could have ever asked for—he had sent her home to her family. She would never have guessed at that time that the very next year, their second Christmas together, would find him going home with her; meeting her family, making pancakes in the morning, and then jetting off to their new home with their own tree and their own celebration.

And then there was the year they were married; their first and last Christmas as husband and wife. To use the words warm and intimate and cozy and romantic and magical were a drastic understatement. Maddie wasn't sure there was a word in the English language to describe how special that time in her life was. She hadn't thought there was a way to make the holiday season brighter, but he had done it. Her husband...Jamie.

The first Christmas without him, mere days after what would have been their first anniversary, was dark and dreary and devoid of everything that had made this time of year her favorite.

When she had told her family that she wanted to be alone that first year, that she wanted to head up into the mountains and hole up in a cabin and be absolutely alone—there had been a tiny bit of pushback. Kyle was concerned, offering to come with her. Gary was upset, worried that by letting her go they were giving her permission to sink into a depression that made him afraid for her. Jenna shed tears; for Maddie and for Bishop. Ian had called and asked her to come to London. Michael had suggested they go somewhere tropical together. It wasn't that they didn't understand, it wasn't that they didn't get it. She had married Bishop so close to the holidays and she hadn't even been granted one anniversary before he was taken. They were just worried for her; they loved her.

Everyone had had something to say, everyone's emotions stirred as they thought of Maddie alone in a cabin in the woods for Christmas.

Everyone except her mother. Hannah—who would be alone on Christmas morning—gave her permission, gave her blessing, and then, in a show of solidarity and support, she handled each and every one of the questions and concerns—putting herself between Maddie and the rest of the family.

She understood. More than she ever really wanted to, she understood the low place that Maddie had sunk to. They were both members of the same, horrible club now. So she made sure her daughter had what she needed, cold weather gear, food, directions and then she hugged her tight, kissed her twice and she let her go.

It had been a year of such great lows; times of great concern. So when the holidays approached again, it felt like everyone collectively held their breath, waiting to see what Maddie would decide. And when she easily and happily agreed that normal holiday celebrations should commence, they all seemed to let out the same collective breath. She was excited to see her cousins on Christmas, excited to take part in the revelry that always came when they got together. She was ready to be merry and try to recapture that spirit she had always loved so much, that spirit that her husband had magnified. But before the merriment began, she was faced with what would have been her second anniversary. And for that at least, the mood was softer; quieter.