Baby's First Christmas

by Pratt, Lulu

“Are you kidding me? Bye, Mom,” I sighed before ending the call and making my way to the bassinet.

  Chris’ face was bright red as he screamed from the top of his lungs, waving his small arms in the air. My heart broke a little every time I saw him so distraught, though my mother assured me I would get used to it with time.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” I calmly assured him as I lifted Chris from the bassinet.

  The dress was falling down my sides as my legs were trapped in the tight fabric.

  My phone rang again, and I realized for the first time that I was still carrying it. Jude’s name appeared, and a small gush of relief brushed past me. My thumb slid across the touch screen to answer the phone as Chris yelled in my arms, his small body finally beginning to relax.

  “Hello?” I answered as panicked as I felt.

  “Are you okay?”

  It was more like me to pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t than to ask for help. I’d been raised to be independent and stand on my own two feet, and that was what I liked to do. My father taught me that when things got tough, I got tougher and that was how I lived my life.

  But Jude had shown me there was strength in asking for help. I’d spent an entire year being stronger than I needed to be, because I had a great father for my son who was ready to step in. There was no reason for me to struggle alone at my house while I rushed to work.

  I just had to admit when I was struggling and ask for help. “My mom just called about a meeting at the hotel. I need to get there, but I don’t have a sitter for Chris and my dress won’t zip, probably because I’m too fat.”

  It all fell out like a bite of food that needed to cool. There was a silence on the other end of the phone, and for a brief second I thought I might have scared Jude off. I was well aware that I could be a lot to handle. Unlike most women he must date, I had a business to help run, a child and a demanding family. Jude was constantly seeing new sides of me, and I could never be sure what he thought about all I did.

  “Just relax,” Jude started just as Chris finally calmed down in my arms. “You don’t need a babysitter. I’m on my way over now. I’ll take him so you can go your meeting.”

  If ever there was a way to describe what love was like to me, that was it.

  Chapter Thirty

  JUDE

  “I THOUGHT WE were going to lunch,” my mother looked up from her magazine with disappointment in her eyes.

  I’d completely forgotten about our scheduled lunch. Pausing, I tried to search for a solution that left neither of us disappointed, but there didn’t seem to be one.

  “Maybe another day,” she plastered on one of her smiles that didn’t reach her eyes.

  She’d learned long ago to put on the brave face, pretending not to be bothered, but I knew the truth.

  “I’ve just got to run over to Holly’s, it shouldn’t take me long,” I rushed to explain, the guilt heavy on my chest.

  “Oh, Holly?” she asked, her bright eyes perking up.

  I smiled, thinking how we had the same reaction to hearing that name. Adjusting in her seat, my mom leaned close as she gripped her knees. “I was thinking… will Holly come to the Christmas Eve party this year? I did invite her when she came over, but perhaps you could ask her too?”

  It was an annual party my mother looked forward to from the start of the new year. She spared no expense, decorating the house and inviting everyone over, even friends and relatives from out of town.

  “I’ll ask her,” I nodded after a short pause.

  Things were going so well with Holly and me, but I didn’t want the pressure of bringing her to a family event if she wasn’t ready. She’d been very clear about not wanting my family to know the truth about our relationship, and having her around them would make that impossible.

  “It doesn’t have to be romantic, you know,” she added, reading my thoughts.

  “I know, Mom. I’ll ask her. And we’ll have lunch when I get back,” I promised before kissing her cheek.

  “I’ll be here waiting,” she smiled, this one reaching her eyes as she watched me leave the room.

  The urge to speed to Holly’s was undeniable as I forced my foot off the gas. Stopped at a red light, I tapped the wheel impatiently, watching a young couple cross the street. Holding hands, they walked together street, watching their young child run ahead of them. My stomach tightened, realizing I wanted that.

  With Holly here in Savannah, there was no way we could raise Chris together when I returned to New York. The office had been asking for an answer about the offered promotion, and for the first time in my life, I began to question climbing the corporate ladder.

  From the day I started college, I dreamed of the life I had now — living in New York City, involved in huge corporate deals, watching Bloomberg in the mornings before rushing into the office, greeted by an assistant holding a stack of messages.

  I was somebody.

  And, unlike in Savannah, my reputation was built on my own name, not my last. No one gave me any advantage or pass for who my father was in New York, or what my mother had done for them. Everything I had, I’d earned on my own, and it was an incredible feeling I knew I would struggle to feel in my hometown.

  The driver behind startled me with the sound of their horn, alerting me to the change in the light. With an apologetic wave, I made my way through the intersection before turning down Holly’s street.

  While her house was on the smaller side, her neighborhood captured the essence of Savannah. With perfectly manicured yards lining her street, I smiled, thinking of Chris growing up in such a quiet and safe neighborhood. Holly answered the door, stealing my attention away from the thoughts of my son.

  “He won’t settle down,” she said, exhaustion evident on her face as she struggled to hold onto Chris’ squirming body. “He’s been fussy all morning, maybe he–” she began, stunned to silence when Chris instantly calmed down as I held him.

  “What’s the matter, little buddy?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his tiny frame as I held him tightly to my chest. “You having a rough day?”

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  I saw the appalled look on her face before a smile washed over. Her shoulders dropped as she exhaled a deep breath before walking over to me, taking my face in her hands and planting a kiss on my lips.

  “You’re amazing,” she shook her head slowly, gazing at me with misty eyes.

  “Thanks?” I asked, confused by her warm reception.

  “He’s been yelling all morning,” she said, her shoulders dropping at the memory.

  “He just needed a new view. Right, buddy?” I asked, holding Chris up to see his blue eyes.

  “He just wanted his daddy,” Holly smiled softly, touching Chris’ cheek gently. Her acknowledgement made my stomach tighten with emotion as I wondered if I’d ever get used to hearing my new title, while secretly hoping it never lost its appeal.

  “Go ahead and get ready, I’ve got him,” I assured her, kissing Chris’ cheek as she watched on with love laced through her hazel eyes. She waited in silence for an extra moment before nodding and walking back to the bedroom.

  Alone with Chris, the nerves began to set in. I hadn’t been alone with a baby in years, and looking into his blue eyes, I felt the dependency, knowing I was completely responsible for someone else. What I had always assumed to be a burden felt shockingly like a privilege.

  He was my son, and I’d been chosen along with Holly to look after him. Growing antsy, Chris began to squirm, scrunching his nose as he did when he felt discomfort.

  “Don’t cry, little man,” I whispered, quickly rising to my feet, hoping the new view could calm him yet again.

  A rush of relief washed over me when Chris gurgled. Walking around the living room, I bounced him gently, patting his back with my hand while looking at all the photos lining the mantle above the fireplace.

  There was a family picture, one I remembered from years of visiting Dylan’s house. Mrs. F
oster kept the same photo on her mantle, and I always imagined it was because it featured their whole family. Before everything changed.

  They were sitting on the couch, a huge Christmas tree lit up behind them. Mr. Foster was standing behind the couch, overlooking his family like a proud father. Mrs. Foster sat in the middle, her arms outstretched along the backrest like a mother hen trying to protect her little ones.

  Holly sat next to her mother, always her carbon copy, a born nurturer and Southern belle. Dylan sat on the other side of his mom, his chest poked out with the arrogance that accompanies youth. In front of the couch, sitting on the floor, Christina laughed with a carefree gleam in her eyes.

  The picture was taken months before Christina died and she looked so alive in that picture, her personality also captured by the photographer. Even as a toddler, she was rambunctious, following after me and Dylan as if she could tag along. In the picture, she was a young teenager, just as I remembered her.

  As best friends with my baby sister Jessie, Christina was a regular at my house and whenever I thought of her, I heard her laugh as clear as ever. She was such a carefree person, I couldn’t ever recall seeing her upset.

  On the other end of Holly’s mantle was a large picture of Christina alone, dressed in a fancy gown. Tucked in the corner of the frame was a card from Christina’s funeral. Just seeing the beige pamphlet made my stomach turn, remembering the day of her funeral, and even worse, the day I got the call.

  I’d been meeting with a professor when my phone vibrated so many times she told me I should take the call. Certain my mom was being her normal overbearing self, I returned my mom’s missed phone calls with annoyance.

  “I was in a meeting, Mom!” I scoffed as soon as she answered the phone, clenching my teeth in frustration.

  “She’s gone!” My mom cried into the phone, her voice more distraught than I’d ever heard.

  “What? Mom, who?”

  “Christina.”

  I didn’t believe it. Even when my parents told me what happened, that a drunk driver had hit Christina, I didn’t believe it. Seeing my best friend cry for the first time, sobbing as he mourned the loss of his baby sister, I still didn’t believe it.

  The funeral was surreal, and even my memories were hazy and questionable. Christina’s death didn’t become real for me until the man who killed her was sentenced to community service.

  Never in my life had I felt more helpless and violated. Christina was stolen from our lives, destroying everything normal in a way that could never be repaired.

  Everything changed. My mother sunk into a depression, and my baby sister followed suit. A year later, my mother told me that the Fosters weren’t coming over for Christmas and that it looked like the friendship between our two families was over. Dylan still called and I saw him, but the weekly telephone calls between our mothers ended and I learned not to ask my mother what was going on as she seemed as mystified as everyone about the change in the shattered family. For years, it felt like things would never feel right again, as if my life in Savannah had been permanently destroyed.

  Visits home felt strange, missing Christina’s bright smile and laughter. Things got so bad, I debated cancelling my annual Christmas trip more than once, but then my parents would have lost not only the girl who was over almost every weekend, but me as well. But eventually we found a new normal, one none of us probably thought would ever come. It made us closer, sharing such a tragic experience.

  “How do I look?” Holly’s voice jolted me back to the present as I turned to see her dressed in a pink shift dress. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, highlighting her beauty that sometimes hid behind her curls.

  “Amazing,” I sighed, feeling the blood rush south.

  She blushed, twirling to lift the skirt before giggling. Her entire attitude had shifted, and I liked to think I had something to do with it. Sighing deeply, I realized she’d done the same for me, as memories of Christina had taken me to a time I liked to forget.

  “I won’t be long. Chris’ car seat is here if you want to go anywhere and I have a spare base for the seat in the laundry room,” she pointed to the corner of the room, where the car seat sat leaned against the wall. “His bag is packed, and there are bottles in the fridge. If you have any questions, just call me.”

  I tried not to laugh as I made my way across the room. “Relax, babe. Go take care of business. I can handle Chris,” I said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

  “I love you,” her eyes were darker, the desire brewing. I felt myself harden, thinking of what I would do to her after her meeting.

  “I love you too,” I smiled, kissing her softly. Holly then kissed Chris who smiled at her.

  Ten minutes after Holly left, I sat on the couch with Chris, staring at him in awe, as I always tended to do. It was still hard to comprehend that I had a son and he looked just like me.

  A sudden urge sent me packing up Chris’ things before strapping him in his car seat. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone, making up my missed lunch date with my mother while watching Chris. I made my way back to my family home after calling my mom, who was delighted to hear the news.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  HOLLY

  “I PROMISE I’LL close up here. You can go home,” my mom assured me as I walked with her to the spa.

  The meeting had gone even better than expected, our largest booking to date. Things were finally coming together, and knowing Jude was waiting at home for me was all the more reason to rush out of the office.

  “Okay, call me if you need me,” I called, hoping she wouldn’t need me.

  “But Holly,” the concern in my mom’s tone stopped me in my tracks, as I turned to see what looked like confusion on her face. “Dad and Dylan are picking up the tables for the event right now, right?” she asked, and I felt the panicked breath I was holding release the tension in my stomach.

  “Yes, they’ll have them here in time for the event,” I smiled.

  “Well, if they’re there, where’s Chris?” she finally arrived at her point, and the tension returned with a vengeance.

  “Oh. Uh, I just had, he’s…” I coughed, suddenly parched. “Jude came by and he’s watching him for me.”

  I looked away, but I could feel her glare as I busied myself straightening a perfectly stack set of towels. Not since I’d told my parents and Dylan about the pregnancy had I wanted out of a situation more. It was like she knew, or maybe that was just my insecurity. I could decide, or think, in the intense silence.

  “You may want to reconsider your decisions, Holly. Jude’s a good friend to Dylan, but I’m not sure if he could be much more in this family,” she said, speaking his name like it left a foul taste in her mouth.

  I felt trapped in my emotions. On one hand, I wanted to defend Jude, but on another I felt in danger of having my secret exposed. She’d all but confirmed my fear — Jude would not be welcomed with open arms.

  “We can talk about it more at the house. Remember? Family dinner?” she raised her eyebrows authoritatively, scolding me even further for my suspicious time away.

  “I’ll be there,” I forced the words to sound more confident than they felt before silently excusing myself.

  When I finally reached the driver’s seat of my car, I leaned against the headrest, exhaling loudly. Things were getting too close for comfort, and I was in desperate need of an escape, even if it was brief.

  Dialing Jude’s phone, I brought the phone to my ear with butterflies beginning to flutter at just the thought of hearing his voice. Knowing I’d be back in his arms soon was enough to keep me calm.

  “Hey, babe,” he answered, but there was something strange in his tone.

  “Is everything okay?” I rushed to panic, worrying about my baby. I should have known it was too much responsibility for Jude, and I instantly began to beat myself up.

  “Yes, don’t worry. Chris ate and he’s taking a nap,” he rushed the explanation, thankfully. Feeling relief aga
in, I sighed, turning on the ignition as I prepared to go home.

  “I’m so glad to hear that. Okay, I’ll be there soon,” I said, ready to end the call.

  “Well, uh,” he paused, the awkwardness there again. “We’re at my parents.”

  Before I even hung up, speeding through Savannah in an attempt to stop what had already happened, I knew. Jude didn’t need to say a word. I knew before Mrs. Hatch wrapped me in her arms, squeezing me too tightly as she told me she couldn’t pick a better woman for her son. I knew before Mr. Hatch looked away, trying to hide the tear sneakily falling from his eye when he learned he was a grandfather.

  I knew from the second Jude answered the phone that something was completely off. And when I finally got him alone, cornered in the dining room while his parents tended to Chris, who was sound asleep in the next room, I intended to let Jude have it.

  “Are you kidding me?” I snarled, walking across the room.

  “She knew, Holly, I swear. She just knew,” he started, the guilt clear in his eyes.

  Just as I approached him, he leaned back, tilting his head as he looked down, scrunching his nose. It was Chris staring back at me, just thirty years older. An exasperated sigh fell from my lips as the irony landed on me.

  I only hoped that one day my little boy would try to hide a secret from me, one that I would see through without much inspection. Mrs. Hatch knew her son just as I knew mine, so I couldn’t be mad at Jude.

  In fact, the whole situation made me think back to my interaction with my own mother at the spa. I wondered if she too had begun to connect the dots, certain it was only a matter of time before the news made its way through Savannah.

  “You’re not mad?” Jude asked, confused after my last outburst.

  “No, it’s fine,” I shook my head.

  “Then tell me what you’re thinking,” he tilted my chin to search my eyes.

  “There’s no way my mom doesn’t hear about this within a week.”

  “No, my mom said she’s fine with keeping it under wraps,” Jude tried to assure me, but it was pointless.