[Book One]
Agatha Miller Nash thought she was finally starting to have the perfect life she always dreamed of while growing up.
She had a job that made her feel proud of herself, the man that she would spend the rest of her life with, and a place s...
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E L E V E N
As expected, my father called to ask how my life was going in California and apologizing for not being able to spend Christmas day with me before he proceeded to end the call in a rush. And just like every year since mom left, I found myself crying on the floor days before the stupid holiday. Now, I start to realize that it was naive of me to believe that everything would be different from mom gone when, in reality, I should have known that nothing was going to change. I try not to think much about it, but since mom died, I feel like all my dad has been doing is avoiding me every chance he gets, and I can't deny that it hurts.
"Everything alright?"
At the sound of Evan's voice, I lifted my head from my knees, quickly wiping my tear-stained cheeks.
"Mhm, everything is fine." I sniffed, stretching my legs out in front of me. Evan pushed himself off from the sliding door and took a seat next to me without saying a word in the process.
"I had no idea that crying when everything is fine was a thing,"
"I do not need you to get all smart-ass with me," I rolled my eyes at him."You are not going to let this go, are you?" No matter how hard I try to avoid telling him what is going on, he would find a way to get it out of me sooner or later.
"I would, but the truth is that I grew up with a sister. Also, it is hard to let it go when you have been hiding in your room these past few days, and you have barely talked at work, which is completely out of character if you ask me. You never shut up."
"That is not true! And you are right, no one asked you," I elbowed him in the ribs, making him wince before we both started chuckling.
As the laughter ceased, I sat there staring at the glittery mess I still had in my hands from the tree topper. From the corner of my eye, I could see Evan turning slightly in his place to face me. I could feel him looking at me, waiting for me to say something.
"My dad called," I began, taking a deep breath. "I have not heard from him for almost seven months since he left for his Afghanistan tour. He tried to catch up and apologize at the same time for not being able to come for Christmas in a five-minute call in which I barely got the chance to say any words."
"Oh-" Evan started but trailed off, shifting again in his place. Only this time, he moved closer, the bare skin of my thighs that wasn't covered by my shorts brushing against the denim of his jeans. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be, its not your fault." I sighed, leaning my head against the cold wall of the balcony. "You know, now that I think about it, I find it kind of funny and quite sad that I don't remember the last time I spent Christmas with my dad," I added, my voice barely audible.
Growing up, I hated every time the holiday season would come around. I hated seeing my classmates with both of their parents in the Christmas school plays or concerts. It took a while, but Christmas became a holiday that I grew to love thanks to the unexplainable obsession my mother had with it. God, she loved it so much our house always looked like Santa Claus himself threw up all over.
