Phoenix Feather

by Angela Wallace

“I can’t believe your grandparents don’t spend most of the year up here,” Aidan said. “I bet it’s just as beautiful in the summer.”

  “I would have thought you wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of seeing the world either,” Trent replied. He watched her mouth curve up at one corner.

  “You’re right,” she said a moment later.

  “Where would you go first?” he asked, prepared to make mental notes for future reference.

  “Hmm,” she mumbled while she chewed. “That’s a tough one.” She stabbed at her breakfast with a fork. “Where would you go?”

  “Somewhere in Europe, I think,” he said, hoping to inspire her to say something more specific. “There is a lot to choose from.”

  Aidan nodded and washed down her bite with coffee. “Ireland, then.”

  Trent tried to tone down the size of his smile. “Good choice.”

  “Well, we’re both Irish, in some way or another. It seems like a good place to start.”

  It was a great place to start. Trent felt a stir of excitement just thinking about traveling around the world with her, sharing new experiences. Maybe this was why his grandparents were gone all the time. If so, he could hardly blame them for their absences; rather, he was beginning to envy them.

  Wood creaked and Aidan glanced at the ceiling. “I think they’re finally stirring.”

  Trent grinned and stood up. “You check on them and I’ll make the next batch.”

  Soon the kitchen was full of chatter and laughter as Phoebe and Chris joined them for breakfast. Trent served them and helped himself to a second round. He jumped up again when he saw Aidan turn the sink faucet on and start gathering the pans, but she put both her hands gently on his chest and pushed him back toward the table.

  “I’ll do this,” she said with a sweet, yet final tone.

  Chris and Phoebe chatted in excitement about getting a tree. This Christmas was very important to them. They finished eating and Trent helped dry the dishes while Chris and Phoebe got dressed for the excursion.

  Thirty minutes later they were all outfitted and ready to go. Trent grabbed the axe and rope and led them off into the woods. He could tell this was going to be treated like a well-thought out procedure. The first two trees were too small, the next too big. Though it would have fit in the great room, the four of them alone wouldn’t be able to get it there. Another looked too scraggly; another already had a hive of tenants.

  “This one is well-rounded,” Aidan said.

  Phoebe tilted her head and sucked on the inside of her cheek as she appraised it. “It’s not very tall.”

  Trent walked up to it. It stood only a few inches taller than him. The branches looked well-proportioned, full and bright green.

  “That only makes it easier to put the angel on top,” Aidan suggested.

  “What about that nine-footer back there.” Phoebe gestured with her thumb.

  Chris let out a dramatic sigh. “Trent and I are the ones carrying it back. Are you trying to kill us?”

  Silence followed, as palpable as a slap in the face. Trent stiffened, glad he had his back turned. He could only imagine the stunned look Chris’s casual statement had put on Phoebe’s face. Trent glanced at Aidan out of the corner of his eye. She stood stark still, only her eyes darting between the twins, poised to respond to whatever came next. He turned around. Chris looked wretched and remorseful. Phoebe’s eyes glistened.

  “I guess that’s not a good thing to joke about,” Chris said softly.

  Phoebe swallowed hard. “I’m fine.” Her voice came out strangled. “Don’t overreact. It was a joke; I get it. We’ve always made them before.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chris said.

  Phoebe turned away from him and gestured to the tree. “I like this one.”

  She obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and Chris obviously wanted to grovel for forgiveness, so the only thing to do was set their attention back on the task at hand and let them work it out later in private. Trent disliked being the voice to break into a standing tension, but it needed to be done.

  “Chris, hold it from the side while I chop from the front.”

  Chris hesitated, but moved to do so. Phoebe stepped back, still avoiding eye contact with everyone.

  “Do you have an angel for the top, Trent?” Aidan asked.

  “Uh…” In truth, it was hard to remember. His family always changed the top ornament every year. They also took turns on who picked what to put up there.

  “I just remembered that not everyone puts up an angel. Maybe you have a star.” Aidan shrugged, and attempted to smile. “I just wanted to know if I was wrong.”

  Trent planted his feet apart and hefted the axe over his shoulder. “We always alternated, so I’m sure there are both in the boxes.” He whacked at the trunk.

  “Hmm,” she murmured, and tapped her finger against her chin. “How will we decide?”

  “What do you mean?” Chris asked.

  “Well,” she continued, a ring of playfulness in her tone. “Maybe we should have another competition, between these tree topper ornaments to see which gets to go on top.”

  Trent grinned while he swung the axe and hacked at the tree. Aidan could surprise him sometimes, which shouldn’t be the case considering the love and intuition she had when it came to her friends, but the way her mind worked delighted him.

  “What kind of competition?” he asked.

  Aidan shrugged. “Go-Fish maybe.”

  The casual comment hit its intended mark. Trent saw the gleam in Aidan’s eyes as Phoebe responded with an outburst.

  “Go-Fish? That’s hardly challenging. You have to pick a better game than that, Aidan.” Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Charades would be much better.”

  Aidan turned to the guys. “I’m fine with that.”

  “You’re on,” Chris said, equally fired up.

  Trent took his last swing and the tree tilted forward. He tied it with the rope so they could drag it back to the cabin. “So is this competition only for the angel and star, or can other ornaments play?”

  Aidan grinned. “What else do you have?”

  They got the tree back to the cabin and Aidan and Phoebe laid down the plastic mats so they wouldn’t make a huge mess getting the tree inside. Trent and Chris maneuvered it through the door and into the great room where they secured it in the stand, and stood back to admire it.

  “Yeah, this is a good tree,” Chris said.

  Aidan slid one of the boxes Trent had brought down the night before over and opened it. “Garlands and ornaments.”

  “Lights are in this one,” Trent said, and pushed the other boxes from the corner into the middle of the room. They all sat down on the floor and began unloading the hidden treasures his grandparents had accumulated over the decades.

  “Oh,” Aidan gasped. “I haven’t seen one of these since…”

  Trent scooted over to see what she held. It was a swan, very plain and old, nothing dazzling about it. “Did you used to have one like that?”

  She looked up at him, startled. “No,” she said hurriedly. “This is handmade, a cotton ornament from Russia before the Revolution in 1917. They don’t make them anymore. It was just a surprise, seeing a piece of history where I least expected it.” She put the ornament back in its box and turned to smile at him. “Your grandparents are interesting people, if their tastes say anything about them. I can’t wait to meet them.”

  Trent rubbed the back of her arm. He felt as though there was a story behind that ornament, a secret Aidan knew but wasn’t sharing, and it seemed more personal than just a piece of world history falling into her lap. Trent couldn’t fathom what would make her so secretive, and he wished she’d open up to him about it. He wouldn’t ask her though. He wanted her to trust him enough to make the first move. But then maybe there wasn’t anything to it, and it was just a small, otherwise insignificant memoir from the past that gave her eyes that reminiscent look. It mesmerized him, the way she looked at the world so
metimes. He wanted to learn what she saw that most people didn’t.

  “Chris! You’re supposed to decorate the tree, not me,” Phoebe complained. She was getting tangled in the strings of lights. Aidan laughed and got up to help untangle her.

  They put two strings of multi-colored lights around the tree and another around the back patio door. They hung all kinds of ornaments on the tree: the traditional plastic balls; little snowmen made of bells and glass; birds, animals, and angels made from Dresden, cotton, and plastic; flimsy, crafted by children’s hands ornaments with a T or B written on the bottom in black sharpie.

  “Do you guys have any traditions?” Trent asked.

  “Caroling,” Phoebe replied. “Haven’t done it since high school though.”

  “Aidan?” he asked.

  “My mom watched The Bishop’s Wife every year,” she said. “I liked that better than the big family gatherings.”

  “The shy one, were you?”

  “Well, do you have big family gatherings?” she retorted.

  Trent held up his hand and began counting off his fingers. “I’ve got two aunts and two uncles, three cousins—all on my father’s side, and one aunt on my mother’s side. We haven’t had a big gathering in five years though, not since my grandparents started traveling. They were the glue, I guess.” That was partly true. Mostly it was because the children in the family had grown and had their own children, made new family branches that required time and holiday commitments.

  “I found the angel!” Chris announced. He held up the topper angel ornament wrapped in a royal red robe sparkling with star-like sequins. “Player number one.” He set the angel aside.

  “I’ll take it,” Phoebe jumped in.

  Chris dug around more in the box. “And, as promised, the star.” He pulled out a gold ceramic, three-dimensional star dusted in multi-colored shiny specks. “I think I will take this.” He rummaged around some more and pulled out two more ornaments for the top of the tree. “What is it?” he asked.

  Trent reached over to take it gingerly. He always had a delicate fondness for the things his grandfather had made. “It’s the moon, and here is a place for a candle.” He smiled at Aidan, who was biting her lip as though she regretted the competition idea. He held the ornament out to her. “I think this one suits you better than the big Santa.”

  She sighed, but took it with a smile. “I’ve never really been as competitive as Phoebe,” she said quietly to him. “But today I think we’ll have to have a real match.”

  Trent grinned, and held up the Santa Claus. “May the best ornament win.”

  They planned charades for later that night after dinner. As it turned out, Phoebe won. With the assistance of a chair, she put the angel on top of the tree, thereby officially completing the decorating. Then they snuggled up to watch a movie. Tomorrow they’d go into the town twenty minutes down the mountain and buy what they’d need to cook Christmas dinner. Trent thought about calling Bryan. He genuinely wanted to know how his brother was doing, but didn’t want it to sound like he was checking up on Bryan and making sure he still planned on coming. Trent would call Christmas Eve at least, to make sure the puppy pick-up went okay and that Bryan wouldn’t be going mad with it. He’d want to wish Jess a Merry Christmas as well.

  When the movie finished, Aidan helped drag a sleepy Phoebe up to bed. Trent went around locking up and turning off the lights. Chris stayed sitting on the couch, staring at the Christmas tree.

  “You okay?” Trent asked.

  Chris glanced back at the stairs to make sure the girls were gone. “I’m just tired. Trying to be here in the moment completely and not think about next year is kind of exhausting.”

  Trent sat down and folded his hands across his knees. Since being released from the hospital, he and Chris hadn’t had much opportunity to chat openly and honestly. Trent had almost forgotten Chris’s need to protect the girls from himself. They were all putting on brave faces.

  “Maybe you should talk to Phoebe about it. It might help both of you.”

  Chris shook his head. “It’s too painful for her. I made a slip today, and it was terrible.” He sighed and dropped his head against the back of the couch. “I’m a wuss, Trent. I don’t want to see my sister cry.”

  Trent cringed at what he was about to say. “She’s going to cry anyway, Chris. Maybe it would be better if she did it in your arms, so you can comfort her while you still can.”

  “What comfort can I give her?” he asked bleakly. “It doesn’t change anything.”

  “The freedom to not have to hide. If it’s taking a lot out of you, don’t you think it’s doing the same to her?”

  Chris stayed silent for a long time. “What about Aidan?”

  “I’ll deal with her. What are you going to do about Phoebe?”

  “You don’t think this is really bad timing?”

  Trent rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. Is it ever going to be good timing?”

  Chris smirked mirthlessly. “I guess not.” He pushed himself off the couch. “Night.”

  “Night.” Trent stayed down in the dark for a while longer, thinking. He didn’t know what the right thing to do was, or even the wise thing to do. There was no question that whatever happened from this point forward would not be easy.

  ***

  Aidan eased the bathroom door closed without a sound and began tiptoeing back to her room. The house was still and quiet in the dead of night—aptly named. She paused, and frowned toward Phoebe’s bedroom. It was dark inside, but the silence seemed too prominent, as though it were empty when it shouldn’t be. Aidan cracked the door open. Phoebe was sitting up in bed, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Aidan reached for the lamp light on the dresser and shut the door behind her.

  “Phoebe?”

  “Did I wake you up?” Her voice came out rough and hoarse.

  “No. I just…” Aidan moved to the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong?” Did she really have to ask? There was only one likely possibility.

  Phoebe shifted to make room for Aidan. “I had a nightmare. It’s nothing important.” She wiped her eyes.

  “What about?”

  She shrugged.

  “Do you have them often?”

  Phoebe nodded. Aidan closed her eyes to hold back her own tears. This was the reason Phoebe had insisted Aidan take a room for herself, not the lame excuse that Phoebe was difficult to live with and Aidan, as an only child, wouldn’t be used to it. They’d had that conversation lightly, as though it were something to laugh about. Aidan hadn’t considered that Phoebe would be trying to hide something. She reached out and pulled Phoebe’s head down into her lap and stroked her hair. She shivered, so Aidan pulled the comforter tighter around them.

  “There’s this shadow,” Phoebe started. “And it keeps getting bigger. At first, we’re all sitting in the living room, ignoring it. Then all of a sudden it’s sitting where Chris was. I call out for him, but he doesn’t answer, and when I scream at everyone else in the room, they look at me like I’m crazy, like nothing’s the matter.” She sobbed between words.

  “It hurts so much I can’t breathe. I can see it everyday; he’s withering away. I can see the lines and the circles under his eyes, and the way his clothes hang loosely on him.”

  “I know,” Aidan whispered.

  “I can’t do it.” Phoebe’s whole body shuddered with a sob. “Not again.”

  Aidan rocked back and forth, holding Phoebe and stroking her hair while she cried. They must have stayed like that for hours, but finally Aidan noticed that Phoebe had fallen asleep. She gently put a pillow under her friend’s head and slid herself out. It was almost 5AM, and Aidan didn’t feel like going back to bed, so she grabbed a blanket and went downstairs to sit by the window and gaze at the moon. She watched the first hint of dawn bleed into the dark blue sky, and the stars diminish until she couldn’t see them anymore. Was that what it would be like with Chris? He would still be there, but they wouldn’t be able to see him?
/>   She heard footsteps behind her.

  “You’re up early,” Trent whispered, and sat down next to her.

  Aidan nodded. “Rough night.”

  “You all right?”

  She tried to keep her breathing steady. “I’m fine. I’m bleeding and holding myself together with bandages I have to reapply more and more often.”

  “Night brings out the worst of it, doesn’t it?” Trent murmured.

  Aidan looked into his dark eyes, catching the glint of the morning like a speck of a star. She reached out and entwined her fingers with his. “For others more so.” She twisted to see the glowing numbers on the clock. “You’re up early too.”

  He smirked. “I’m always up this early.”

  She leaned her head against the cold window with a sigh.

  “Can I make you hot chocolate or coffee?”

  “Sure,” she said, and sat up.

  He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to move.”

  “I’d like to watch.” Aidan gathered up the blanket and followed Trent into the kitchen. She slid into a chair and watched as he turned on the coffee maker and scooped out a fresh batch of beans. When the machine finished preparing it, they sat at the table and drank their cups in silence. It was tranquil and complete. Aidan felt happy just being near him. They didn’t need to speak to fill the time, just this wordless communion.

  It was still early, so they moved to the sofa and talked about past Christmases and fond memories. They talked about their families, taking the time to describe each member in detail, not only looks but personalities as well. They passed the time easily until Phoebe and Chris came down.

  “I almost forgot one tradition,” Trent said. “Banana waffles for breakfast on Christmas morning.”

  Aidan snorted. “That’s such a tease; we have to wait two days.”

  He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Sorry. Oatmeal good for today?”

  She nodded and looked at Phoebe. She looked just as haggard as Chris, with dark circles under her lifeless eyes. “There’s coffee already made,” Aidan offered.

  Phoebe nodded and headed for the kitchen.

  “She okay?” Chris whispered.