Unforgettable Christmas Dreams: Gifts of Joy

by Rebecca York

  ***

  Sonia ate a late lunch in front of the television absently watching the local news. Her meal was what David used to call a ‘hog sandwich’ – lettuce, tomato, ham, and provolone slathered with mayo on both sides of the bread.

  As much as she wanted to eat in her office and wait for return emails from the online businesses she’d contacted, she knew staring at a blank screen made as much sense as waiting for water to boil.

  The marketing firms she’d emailed also had samples of her best work, complete with watermarks, so the photos couldn’t be copied.

  True, she probably wouldn’t make much money, but the service she was prepared to offer small businesses possibly interested in her floral/gardening, background memes or banners would be devised solely through her own creativity.

  When Sonia finished eating, she picked up the cell phone, and took a minute to gather her thoughts. She’d been avoiding her mother’s gentle suggestions regarding the grief process after David’s death for months.

  In fact, she’d gotten downright nasty with the well-meaning woman the last time they’d spoken. “Crap, Mom, knock off the interrogations. Don’t bother to call, just leave me alone, will you?” she’d snapped and ended the call.

  Now that Sonia had some positive news to share with her mom, reaching out to her and sharing was a good way to heal the chasm she’d caused with her shit attitude.

  “After all, it’s not Mom’s fault David died, anymore than it was mine when Dad passed years ago, either,” she chastised herself as she hit the send button.

  Miriam Hastings answered on the first ring, almost as if she’d been anticipating her daughter’s call.

  “Sonia, how wonderful to hear from you. I’m pleased as can be for the call,” her mother said in an honest, cheerful tone. “How are you feeling today, honey?”

  Tears of happiness slid down Sonia’s cheeks. She closed her eyes and thanked her higher power she’d taken the initiative to repair the damage and reconcile.

  “Hi, Mom, it’s so good to hear your voice,” she answered. “I’ve missed you. A lot. Do you have a minute to chat? I have some news I think you’ll be happy to know, about, well…me getting beyond my heartbreak.”

  Sonia heard her mother blow her nose. “Of course I do, dear,” the older woman replied. “Please. Tell me. How’ve you been doing? I haven’t wanted to intrude after our last conversation. You know…”

  “Mom, I’m truly sorry I cut you out of my life like that,” Sonia told her. “I just wasn’t ready to, um, well…” She took a deep breath. “I wasn’t willing to hear anything from anyone, not even sympathy from my own mom. Anyway, I have a question for you, regarding the past.”

  “Yes?”

  Sonia pulled herself together. “I wanted to know how you managed as a wife, after Dad died. When you lost your spouse. I was so sad when Dad passed, but I never really considered how a person feels when their life partner dies, until recently.”

  Her mother expelled a long sigh. “The death of a beloved spouse is heart rendering and filled with anguish, which is why I waited for you to come back to me. Like now. Losing your dad broke my heart, but I took mourning his death a minute at a time – just as I suspect you’ve done with David. It’s been the most difficult situation I’ve ever had to endure, and although the pain has lessened over the years, a dull ache will always be with me, even though I find joy in each day.”

  Sonia felt a kinship with her mother she’d never felt with anyone else before. “Oh, my God, yes. I get you. Thanks for sharing your feelings with me, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, what was it you wanted to share? You said at the beginning of our conversation you were beginning to move forward. What’s happened to bring you such positive vibes?”

  “Mom, I’m so excited. Here’s the thing. I’ve rediscovered the joy of taking pictures,” she told her. “Yesterday I found my camera while packing up some of David’s belongings, and I have a plan to hopefully expand my photography into a small business. You won’t believe it, or maybe you will, but David’s spirit visited me, and kind of gave me an emotional boost towards letting go of the past, without feeling guilty.”

  “David will always be with you, Sonia,” she said. “He lives on in your heart until you join him in eternity. Just a small comforting thought I recite to myself everyday when I feel down.”

  “Thank you for sharing, Mom. You always were a wise lady. And I need your wisdom and your support as I pursue this new venture. I’d love to have you as an ally.”

  Miriam’s light laughter made her heart swell with gratitude. “You know I’d never let my girl down. Please, hit me with the details, I’m all ears.”

  ***

  After Sonia had disclosed her intentions and they’d discussed future possibilities, her mother had concluded their call with a suggestion to ponder.

  “You shouldn’t confine yourself to designing for other businesses,” Miriam had advised. “Why not take your dreams one step further, and not rely on bigger conglomerates for crumbs while they keep all the profits? Break out on your own - the opportunities are endless. What about Indie authors who don’t have the talent, or time, to create memes for their stories? Think on that, dear one.”

  “Why not take it a step further indeed?” she later murmured to the picture of David placed on the coffee table. “So, what about those self-published authors whose stories I read on my tablet? Mom told me to dig deep. How do they advertise? With eye catching memes, of course!”

  Forgotten pleasure came in waves with this cool revelation. Miriam’s words had opened her mind to possible avenues she’d never considered. Authors with creative needs like she had to offer would not only keep her busy with the camera, but contact with prospective clients on social media would also help fill the void she’d inhabited since David’s death.

  Sonia’s mind was full of plans for her new venture. First, she’d have to set up a website for advertising purposes and exposure. A quick phone call to her cousin Linda who worked for an IT company regarding the best website companies to set up a domain proved fruitful, and she’d already saved the site Linda had suggested to her favorites on the computer.

  A name for the future site eluded her, and she wished David was here to help – he’d always been so good at brainstorming during their marriage, but now she’d now have to figure these things out for herself.

  At first Sonia worried that organizing an easily navigated website could be daunting, but after she watched several tutorials on the home site, she felt more confident to conquer the challenge.

  The website also needed to be more than presentable and attractive to the eye, if she was going to capture the public’s attention.

  “Holy crap! Mom was so right! Why would I even think of sharing my talent for others to benefit from? Let’s go all the way, girl!” Sonia yelled as she gave herself a good face palm. “God bless Mom. All I need is to find the right means to contact potential buyers and learn how to market. Geeshe!”

  Lost in thought, she envisioned herself visiting local pumpkin farms and parks for photographing harvest and Halloween pictures for memes. Then, there was Thanksgiving – she could take pictures of her own Thanksgiving dinnerware and crystal. Lord knew she had enough sets to make up at least four meme designs.

  Christmas! Holy cow, what a no-brainer! As a reader, a festive banner or meme heralding a Christmas story was the immediate link that lured her to seek more information about an author’s story, which ultimately led to a purchase.

  “Oh, what I couldn’t do for Indie authors’ Christmas stories,” she whispered happily. “My photos from the past, not to mention the ones I’ll take going forward, will please even the most finicky people searching for unique memes and banners.”

  Designs – that formulated another idea. “My signature image for the website should be something easily remembered by future clients, and different from anyone else’s.” She slapped her thigh and laughed. “I know! I’ll use the monar
ch butterfly perched on the hydrangea. It’s so beautiful in its simplicity, and I don’t think I could bear to sell it to a stranger anyway.”

  She drummed her fingers on the desk. Now that she’d taken care of selecting a business icon, she needed a working title for the site. “David, please help me. What should I call my little business?’ she asked the empty room.

  No answer was forthcoming - her mind was a total blank.

  Sonia put on her sneakers and sighed. Her plans for the future were so overwhelming her brain needed time to chill. “Maybe a walk will do me good. The sooner I can decide on a name, the sooner I can start up my website.”

  She pictured David’s smiling face in her mind’s eye – what was it he’d said the night before he died? “I’d give anything to see your eyes sparkle with happiness again,” she echoed, remembering his last words.

  Serenity filled her soul and tears splashed down her cheeks from the force of such a divine solution. “Oh, thank you, darling David, I knew you’d come through,” she whispered. “I’ll call my company Sparkles of the Season - by Sonia.”

  If everything went according to plan, social media could soon become her new best friend.

  She kicked off her sneakers and hurried to her office. “Forget the damn walk,” she said as she deleted several emails from the businesses she contacted earlier without reading them. “I have a website to create.”

  Chapter Four

  September 2018: Just Lars

  The Sunday after Labor Day, Lars frowned as he waited for the Jersey Giant’s season opener to commence on his favorite sports network.

  After the Star Spangled Banner was over and his team ran out onto the field, Lars was tempted to shut off the TV. He grit his teeth to keep the jaw sporting days old stubble steady, as the camera crews swept the arena, displaying the analysts in their cozy booth and the sold-out stadium packed with fans.

  “For the first time in seven seasons, Lars Whitney, record breaking field goal kicker in the NFL’s Eastern Division, will not be starting with the Jersey Giants,” one of the commentators announced in a mournful tone. “For those of you who haven’t yet heard, Whitney has recently undergone surgery for an injury he received in a freak accident during pre-season practice. The general manager has expressed extreme regret that Whitney will be out for the season, and…”

  Lars muted the volume - he didn’t need to hear this retired NFL asshole-turned-announcer pretend to feel sorry for him, or about how his absence might affect the team - and he sure didn’t want to hear it broadcast on live television.

  Regardless, Lars was a football junkie to the core, and knew he’d resume the surround-sound volume once the kickoff was ready to commence.

  He knit his fingers beneath his chin and swore. “Goddamn Julia.”

  It all started after Julia’s devious missive had arrived via courier at the practice field. At that point, Lars and the team had only completed one week at training camp.

  The official court documents may have annihilated a lesser man’s motivation regarding his tasks on the field. Lars had simply read them, his expression devoid of emotion, but inside he was seething. “Holy shit, now she’s crossed the freaking line,” he’d thought, but he’d handed the manila envelope over to his agent, and then resumed his exercises with the team.

  Lars was a strong man of character, but it still took a tremendous effort to shun the shock he’d felt, until logic overturned his angst. “This is life-changing event, almost like a death,” he’d told himself that evening. “Its potential will affect my job, if I let it. Better to bury my feelings. After all, I’m the starting field goal kicker, and proud of my stellar record with the team. I can’t let my teammates or the fans down because of personal problems.”

  Fast-forward two months…

  “That miserable bitch,” he now muttered during the program’s highlights of last year’s season finale, with his game saving field goal showing on the screen. “It wasn’t bad enough Julia’s sucky timing made me feel like my eye got pierced with a needle. Now, look at me! I’m reduced to being a damn spectator – God, I’m so frigging pissed.”

  Lars recalled when he’d called his father Adam Whitney about the pending divorce the night after he’d been served the documents, and their discussion about how the separation might hurt Jeff.

  He wasn’t surprised when Adam asked in a fatherly tone, “Do you mind me speaking my mind, Lars?”

  “No, not at all,” he’d told his dad. “I need your input. Your grandson’s security, not to mention his lifestyle, is about to be altered, and I’m afraid for him.”

  “Son, I’ve always thought Juliet to be the self-serving type, even before you married her,” his father had told him. “She never appeared to be the supportive kind of wife a guy like you needs with having such a demanding career, and she’s never going to be satisfied being left in the shadows. She much prefers the limelight, don’t you agree?”

  Lars had scratched his head. “Well, she’s sure going get attention once news of the divorce hits the tabloids and social media,” he agreed. “In the meantime, though, what should I do about custody? Julia’s attorneys threatened via the divorce papers that since I’m on the road so much, I’ll only be awarded joint custody and sporadic visitation, once we have to go before a judge.”

  His father had sighed. “Lars, didn’t you see the signs? I mean, come on.”

  “Truthfully, I did see a separation coming at some point, but didn’t think it would be so soon,” he’d admitted.

  “Listen, son, and hear me well. I wouldn’t go writing off joint custody and visitation regarding the boy too quickly,” his dad said sternly. “Think about it. You’re a field goal kicker for one of the best NFL teams in the world. You have resources. Use them. Certainly there are attorneys you can reach out to, right?”

  Lars had perked up a bit, embarrassed he hadn’t thought about this himself. He was an adult after all. “Thanks, Dad,” he said. “You’re right, I do have a hoard of attorneys at my disposal. I just haven’t been thinking straight yet.”

  “Then, contact them for Christ sake,” the older man ordered. “If you need me to be a character witness regarding Julia’s nonchalance regarding Jeff’s upbringing, or the fact that your boy adores you, let me know. Now, get your ass in gear and man up. Like I said, I wouldn’t take the word of Julia’s idiot lawyer that things regarding your child are so cut and dried.”

  “I will,” Lars had replied. “I’ll get on this first thing tomorrow.”

  “Then keep me posted. Goodnight, son.”

  ***

  Following his father’s advice, Lars had his attorney counter Julia’s initial demands and progress had been made in his favor. Their court date back in Atlanta was swiftly approaching, but now Lars feared he wouldn’t be fit enough to travel on the appointed date.

  Fresh frustration about the unfairness of his injury taunted him once more and his grip tightened on the remote.

  Wanting to heave it against the wall with all his might, Lars stifled his angry urge. “Who’d go and fetch the damn thing, even if the plastic sucker survived the throw?” he said, continuing his solo conversation. “I would, that’s who, but the orthopedic surgeon cautioned me to rest the foot between physical therapy, if I ever want to be able to physically care for my boy and resume my career.”

  Lars sent the cast wrapped about his right ankle, and most of his foot, a look of disgust and cursed his shit luck. “Goddamn to hell,” he yelled. “I miss my kid, and I know he misses me, too.”

  Although he knew fuming and cussing wasn’t about to change the situation, the swearing relieved his rage. The team doctor’s decree, “Sorry, Son, but you’re out for the season,” had often surged through in his brain, but Lars realized he’d have to find better, more positive thoughts to dwell on.

  Like obtaining more than just shared custody and skimpy visitations through the court – for sure, his son depended on him.

  Lars huffed anew at the ugly su
rprise of being served divorce papers in public on a field where fans were gathered, and how he’d phoned Julia immediately afterward, intent on changing her mind.

  Julia had answered the phone on the first ring, like she’d been expecting his call – her studied nonchalance immediately conveyed she was prepared to deal with him, and he didn’t like that at all.

  “Hi, Lars, how’re you doing?” she’d asked in her prissy way. “I’m guessing you received the divorce documents?”

  Lars had flexed his knuckles and wondered how anyone, especially the woman he’d married, could be so cold. “Yeah, of course I did, and you damn well know it. The papers required a certified signature. What the hell inspired you pick to this particular time to spring this on me? I’m out of town, for Christ sake. We should’ve had a discussion in person and talked about the possibility of saving our marriage before you up and filed for divorce. And what, if anything, did you tell Jeff? I want to know how he reacted to such terrible news.”

  He’d heard her sigh dramatically on her end. “I told Jeff that you and I love him very much, but we couldn’t live together as a family anymore. I told him I wasn’t suited to be a football widow. I may have also mentioned his Mommy was very sad all the time.”

  Lars wished he could reach out through the distance and choke his soon to be ex-wife, “How fucking selfish of you to tell him his mommy is so unhappy! How could you impose your feelings upon a six-year old kid? Don’t you have any sympathy for the child?”

  “Of course I do,” she retorted. “Thank God my parents understand that an unhappy mommy is a bad mommy. They’ve promised me to help the two of us through this unsettled time.”

  Lars had wanted to roar. His in-laws were snots and had always implied their daughter could have married better. “Of course they would,” he growled. “Did you tell Jeff I wasn’t a part of your decision to end our marriage? What if he thinks he’s never going to see me again?”