❝ how christmas was made ❞

[ seven ] epilogue - december 25

"Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and
behold, everything is softer and more beautiful."
               --Norman Vincent Peale

      seven ✘ epilogue ✘ december 25 (days to christmas: 0)

      December 25th, 2015

     Robin waited with sweating hands. The radio was on, the presenter lightly joking about something, but she could not concentrate. Her mind was focused on the ticking of the clock, waiting. Five more minutes. The presenter was still joking. Come on, she talked to herself, give me something. But he didn’t listen.

       Four minutes. Robin felt the couch beside her tip down, a presence next to her. She smelled the same cheap laundry detergent and cinnamon and milkshakes she had smelled for the past year. Unconsciously, she smiled.

       Three minutes. A hand slipped between her closed up fists, enclosing around one, prying it loose. It entangled their fingers and squeezed. Robin squeezed back, turning her head.

       Two minutes. Addison smiled at her, her eyes crinkling up. She put down her glass with rosé and lifted her now free hand to caress Robin’s cheek with one finger. She leaned in.

       One more minute. A kiss and a message. Almost time from Zeke. Robin didn’t respond, just turned her phone on sleep and waited, listening to the tick-tick-tick of the clock.

       Ten.

       Nine.

       Eight. Robin squeezed her eyes shut, digging her nails into Addison’s hand involuntary, but her girlfriend didn’t mind. It was a nerve-wracking moment.

       Seven.

       Six.

       Five. Robin sucked in a breath and lost hope. The presenter was silent for a moment, little muttering heard in the background on the radio channel. Someone was whispering to him.

       Four.

       Three. Time was slowing down, it seemed. Robin’s movements felt slow, the last seconds to midnight pounding through her body. Thump, thump. Two, one.

       Robin waited. The ancient bell in her parents’ apartment going off. Dong-dong-dong-dong-dong-dong-dong-dong-dong-dong-dong-dong. Twenty-four. It was officially December 25th. Robin heard nothing. The radio had fallen completely silent and her mind blocked out anything irrelevant. It was just her and the radio now. There was a vague sound, a tune. The phone. She felt Addison’s hand slip away from hers, leaving behind empty, cold air. The radio spluttered, but it was incomprehensible.

       “Love?” Robin didn’t respond until the phone was forcefully pressed up against her ear. She jumped up and looked at Addison quickly, who motioned to the phone.

       “Uhm,” Robin muttered, “hello?”

       “Miss Hood?” The radio started up again. The presenter was talking again.

       “Yeah, that’s me,” Robin said, scraping her throat. The radio was buzzing but the noise directed into her ear, coming from the phone, blocked her from understanding the words. Addison smiled at the device.

       “Ah, splendid. You’re talking to Nicholas Pound, from America’s number one radio station, BBC Radio 2. How are you?”

       Robin gasped quietly, focusing now in the radio. The last word sounded through the speakers, you. It was quiet. Robin coughed lightly, hearing it echo on the radio. Her eyes widened and she turned to Addison, who smiled encouragingly.