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Charlie Gardner and his younger sister, Rosie, were two of the many people rushing through the busy streets of New York City, on their way to celebrate the holiday with family. A childish glee had taken over Charlie, a feeling he hadn’t had at Christmas for many years now. But this Christmas was different to the past few. This Christmas, he was spending it with Bridgette again. Well, the Saturday before Christmas, anyway. His mom and dad would never let him spend actual Christmas anywhere other than home. Not while he was still their perfect son, anyway.
“I’m sad it’s only going to be the three of us,” Rosie commented as they turned the corner onto another block, the route to Bridgette’s apartment familiar to them now.
Charlie sighed, unsure how to respond. He agreed, of course, but he didn’t want to wallow in the bittersweetness of it all when something joyful was finally happening. The past few months hadn’t exactly been Charlie’s happiest, but now it was Christmas, and the very air was filled with excitement and euphoria. He couldn’t succumb to depressing thoughts about the state of his family, or friends, or the entire season would be ruined. Yet again.
Last year with Zay was the first time in years that he had found some semblance of happiness within the holiday. Charlie was initially dreading the approaching season, as it would only remind him of better times even more now that he and Zay had broken up, but then Bridgette came back into his life, and suddenly a joyful Christmas was back on the cards.
The door to Bridgette’s apartment was decorated in tinsel, some of which was hanging off from where it had been stuck on. Upon being let into the apartment, the pair of siblings discovered that the space was decorated just as tackily. Christmas on a college student’s budget, for sure.
Bridgette greeted them with a grin. “Happy holidays!” she exclaimed.
Charlie smirked briefly, knowing that his mother was firmly against that phrase, declaring that the world was “too PC nowadays” whenever anybody used it.
Rosie launched into Bridgette arms, squealing with excitement as she always did when they met up. Bridgette pulled Charlie into the hug, and the three of them stood in the embrace for a moment, taking in the fact that they were finally reunited for the holidays. Charlie breathed in the scent of his sisters — Rosie’s fruity shampoo, Bridgette’s winter-themed scented candles, the fresh air captured in Rosie’s scarf, the floral perfume on Bridgette’s neck and wrists — and held them closer.
A sharp beeping from the kitchen startled them out of the moment, Bridgette cursing as she dashed to get whatever was baking out of the oven. Charlie and Rosie made themselves at home in the meanwhile, taking off their jackets and shoes and settling on the couch. Rosie immediately took ownership of a blanket, wrapping it around herself and nuzzling against it, while Charlie started clearing the mess on the coffee table.
“Do you guys want anything to drink?” Bridgette called from the kitchen. “I have eggnog, but it’s got alcohol in it.”
“Charlie isn’t allowed alcohol,” Rosie informed their elder sister. Charlie rolled his eyes.
“Mom’s rules don’t apply here,” Bridgette reminded Rosie.
“It’s not mom’s rule, it’s mine,” Rosie declared. “Charlie is heading down a dangerous path, and I’m preventing him from becoming an alcoholic before it’s too late.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Charlie muttered, shooting a glare at Rosie, who simply stuck her tongue out in reply.
In the end, nobody chose to have eggnog, which Bridgette claimed was a wise decision, as one of her friends had thrown up after trying it. Although, that may have been because of the several shots she had had beforehand... Hard to say.
“What are you doing on actual Christmas?” Charlie asked as the three of them sat squeezed together on the couch, sipping their drinks and eating Bridgette’s slightly burnt sugar cookies.
With a shrug, Bridgette answered, “Not sure yet. Either one of my friends will take me home with them, or it’ll be Christmas dinner for one. Kind of depressing either way, but I’m used to it.”
He wished he could invite her to spend it with them, that she could return to the family and be welcomed with open arms. He wished more than anything that she had never been put in this position in the first place.
“Why don’t you just come home?” asked Rosie, somewhat confused.
Bridgette had already explained, of course, that she had had a big fight with their mom and that’s why she never came home anymore, but Rosie wasn’t aware of the entire situation. Bridgette didn’t want to put any more strain on the girl’s relationship with their mother than necessary, since she still had a long way to go before being free.
She glanced across at Charlie, who was watching her nervously. Rosie looked between the two, growing more frustrated the longer they kept the truth from her.
“Just tell me,” she huffed. “I pretty much already know, so you may as well just tell me.”
With a sigh, Bridgette put down her mug of hot chocolate and turned so that she was facing Rosie directly. “I’m not allowed to go home,” she explained, voice tight. Just because she’d come to terms with it didn’t make it easier to talk about.
Rosie didn’t look surprised. She took a shaky breath and nodded. “I figured. It’s because of mom, right? She banished you?”
With a single nod, Bridgette confirmed what Rosie had long suspected, and broke a dam holding back Rosie’s rage.
“It’s so unfair!” Rosie whined to her older siblings, pouting and putting on her best puppy dog eyes. “How come Agatha gets to go and we don’t?”
“Because we’re not old enough,” Bridgette snapped. Rosie had been complaining about Agatha being invited to go to midnight mass with their father for the past week, and she wasn’t sure she could listen to it for much longer without losing it.
“You wouldn’t want to go anyway,” claimed Charlie. “All they do is pray and read boring verses.”
Rosie’s pout did not let up. “But I want to go with daddy!”
“Dad’ll do lots of stuff with you tomorrow,” Charlie told her.
“Me too?” asked a half-asleep Daisy.
“Yes, you too,” he confirmed.
The small girl smiled, her eyes drooping closed.
“She should really be in bed now,” Bridgette pointed out. “I don’t know why we included her.”
Daisy’s eyes snapped open at that. “Because I’m a sister, too! You said all the sisters stay up, and I’m a sister!”
Bridgette pinched her nose. “Yes, but you’re a baby sister. You can’t stay up because you’ll be too tired tomorrow.”
“I am not a baby,” Daisy protested. “I’m a big girl now. I go to school and everything.”
The sisters continued to squabble while Charlie attempted to make peace for a little while longer, until they heard the front door open and close downstairs and all fell silent. Footsteps creaked up the stairs.
“I’ll just check on your brother and sisters,” they heard their dad say from outside the bedroom. They all held their breath.
“It’s okay, I can check on them. You go help mom with the presents,” Agatha replied.
When their dad agreed to this, they released their breaths in relief. Agatha waited a moment as Ambrose went back downstairs, and then entered her bedroom, where her four younger siblings waited for her. They greeted her in happy whispers, asking what mass was like. She told them everything, which quickly put Rosie’s complaints to rest because it did indeed seem incredibly boring, and then got out the secret chocolates from the back of her wardrobe.
“We each get as many chocolates as the age we are,” Agatha explained.
“That’s not fair,” whined Rosie. “You’re really old.”
“I’m only ten years older than you, you monkey,” Agatha chided as she handed out the chocolates.
She first came up with the age rule when she and Bridgette began their tradition of secretly spending the night of Christmas Eve together, as she needed an excuse to have more chocolates than Bridgette, but she’d always claimed the reasoning was logical and fair.
“Ten years is ages ,” Rosie retorted. “In ten years Charlie’ll be an adult.”
“I don’t want to be an adult,” Charlie complained.
“Why not?” questioned Bridgette, popping her first chocolate into her mouth. “Adults get to live on their own and do what they want. I can’t wait until I’m an adult.”
“You have to get a job, and I don’t know what job I want to do,” Charlie explained.
“You don’t have to worry about that yet, Charlie,” Agatha comforted. “I’m not even sure what I want to do yet.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Part of me just wants to travel the world and see all of the amazing things that God created, but then everyone else is going to college or planning to get married, and I’m not sure which path to take. I have a couple more years until I need to decide, but it’s pretty stressful.”
“You should be a mommy,” Daisy said resolutely. “You’d be a really good mommy.”
Agatha smiled, somewhat rueful but trying to hide it. “Thank you, Daisy. I probably will become a mommy. That’s what everyone wants for me.”
“Being a mommy isn’t a job though,” Rosie pointed out. “What will you do to make money? Or will your husband get money instead, like daddy does?”
Agatha sighed. “My husband will make the money. I’ll just stay at home and raise the babies and gossip with the women at church, I guess. That’s my destiny.”
“Well, I think you should travel,” Bridgette added her input. “If you want to do that, do it. Don’t worry about your destiny or any of that bull—stupid stuff. Do what you want to do, not what mom and dad want.”
“It’s not that easy, Bridge. You’ll understand soon.”
Charlie felt uncomfortable with the heaviness that was settling on them. He finished his last chocolate and changed the topic to something he hoped would be more cheerful. “Where do you think Santa is right now?”
This perked up Rosie and Daisy, who began discussing the possibility that he was nearly at their house and that they would see him, but Charlie noticed Agatha and Bridgette share a secret look.
“Do you know where he is?” he asked them, confused.
“I know where he isn’t,” snorted Bridgette, causing Agatha to jab her in the side. She slapped Agatha’s hand in return.
“My friend at school said if Santa didn’t have magic his sleigh would explode,” Rosie told them all eagerly.
Daisy’s eyes widened in horror. “But then he’d die! Santa can’t die, I won’t get my new doll.” Her bottom lip began to wobble. “Aggie, is Santa going to die?”
Agatha sighed, shooting Bridgette a harsh look. “No, Daisy, he won’t die. He’s got magic so everything is fine, right Rosie?”
“Right! His sleigh won’t explode and he’ll live forever.”
“Oh. Okay.” Daisy sniffled. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes, triggering Rosie to do the same. The urge to yawn crept up in Charlie, too, but he forced it down, not wanting to seem like a little kid to Bridgette and Agatha.
“Come on, you three, I think it’s time to sleep,” Agatha said to the youngest siblings, standing up from the bed where they were all squeezed on together.
“I’m not tired yet!” Charlie protested. “I can stay up later with you two.”
Agatha sighed, but accepted, leaving Charlie alone with Bridgette as she took Rosie and Daisy to bed. They complained, of course, but Agatha told them that if they didn’t get to sleep soon, Santa wouldn’t be able to come to the house and leave them presents. That shut them up quickly enough.
With a smirk, Bridgette leaned forwards to Charlie. “I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?” Charlie asked.
He and Bridgette stood in the kitchen doing dishes while Rosie was left in charge of picking a movie to watch. They had eaten fried chicken for their Christmas dinner, pretending it was turkey for the sake of tradition.
“I’m just really happy that we’re doing this,” Bridgette admitted. “The last few Christmases have been difficult. I can pretend I don’t miss you guys most of the time, but at Christmas...”
“It’s been tough for us, too,” Charlie said quietly. “The first Christmas you didn’t come home, I thought you’d abandoned us. I figured by the second that something else was going on, but it still hurt that you weren’t there. Nothing was the same. At least we still had each other, though.”
Bridgette nodded, falling quiet for a moment. “Do you still all go to Agatha’s room on Christmas Eve and eat chocolate?” she asked hesitantly.
Charlie smiled at the memories. “Not since she got married. Her husband doesn’t really like spending time with all the siblings at once. I think he finds us overwhelming.”
“Understandable,” Bridgette interjected with a laugh.
“To be honest, I don’t like spending time with him, either. Agatha is like a totally different person around him. She’s so quiet,” Charlie admitted.
Bridgette sighed. “I wish she’d gone travelling instead of going to that stupid Bible college. She’s probably a carbon copy of mom now, right?”
Charlie winced and nodded. “Sometimes she still seems like herself, from when we were kids, but it’s getting rarer and rarer. I’m worried that when she has kids of her own, she’ll be lost forever.”
“I wonder if that’s what happened to mom,” mused Bridgette. “What’s her husband like? Is he a good guy?”
“Yeah, he’s nice. A little boring at times, but kind and dedicated to God. He thinks the world of Agatha.”
This relieved Bridgette, who had been worried about Agatha’s marriage ever since she found out she was married. Of course it was upsetting to hear that she was letting her past self disappear, but at least her husband was good. At least he loved her. That was more than some of the women she’d known at church growing up.
The conversation grew a tad too serious for Bridgette’s liking, she switched the tone to one of teasing. “What about you, eh? Any boys I should know about?”
She wiggled her eyebrows, making Charlie laugh despite his immediate instinct to curl up in a ball and hide. His eyes darted to where Rosie was sitting, still flicking through Netflix as she stuffed half the bowl of popcorn into her mouth.
“Nothing to speak of in that department,” he said in a hushed voice as he shepherded Bridgette further into the kitchen.
“You literally go to an all boys school. Full of musical theatre and dance geeks. No one’s caught your eye?” Bridgette gave a wicked grin, eyes sparkling deviously.
Charlie’s own eyes bulged out of their sockets. He shushed her, giving a pointed jab of his head in Rosie’s direction. Bridgette rolled her eyes, but lowered her voice when she said, “You should get out there. Not for anything serious, you’re still like twelve in my mind so that’s weird to think about… but just to build your confidence. See what the playing field is like.”
By now, Charlie’s face was red enough to be hung on a Christmas tree as a bauble. “W-what?! No way! I could never... I can’t... No!” he stuttered out, to Bridgette’s amusement.
“I’m just teasing you,” she said in a softer tone. “But on the topic of the boys at your school, are you making friends? Are they nice?”
Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Who’s the carbon copy of mom now?”
With a fierce glare, Bridgette slapped the back of Charlie’s head. He yelped in pain, rubbing the spot with a pout. She finished drying the final dish with a cheeky smirk before grabbing a bag of chips and heading over to the couch.
Rosie looked across at Bridgette as she sat down and excitedly began listing off the options for what they could watch. Charlie trailed in and took his spot right as Rosie mentioned a new “gay Christmas film” that she wanted to watch. Charlie looked at her in surprise.
“You can’t tell mom I said that.”
Charlie continued to cry, almost in hysterics, as his elder sister tried to calm him down — or at least get him to cry quieter, so that their parents wouldn’t hear. She begged her little brother to keep this to himself, knowing that she would get yelled at if it was discovered that she shattered the Christmas magic in young Charlie’s heart.
“What did you do to Charlie?” Agatha admonished when she returned to the room after putting Daisy and Rosie to bed.
Bridgette folded her arms and avoided eye contact. “I didn’t do anything,” she muttered.
“Sh-she said that mommy and daddy are-are liars,” Charlie got out between his sobs.
Realisation hit Agatha after a second, her eyes going wide before she turned on Bridgette with a look that could kill.
“Why on earth would you tell him that?” she hissed as she whacked the back of Bridgette’s head with force.
Tears sprung to Bridgette’s eyes at the pain, her hands flying up to cradle the abused spot. Agatha’s mood shifted in response and she apologised with a sigh.
“Is it true?” Charlie blubbered. “Is Santa really not real?”
Bridgette continued to avoid Agatha’s angry stare, looking down at her lap in shame. With another sigh, Agatha put an arm around Charlie and held him close to her. “He’s not real,” she confirmed.
Charlie wailed in response. Bridgette sometimes teased him or told him things that weren’t true to get a reaction out of him, but if Agatha was saying it, too, then it had to be true. He’d heard the rumours at school, of course, but always remained on the side that claimed that his parents would never lie to him. But, they had. They lied to him directly, multiple times. They made him believe in someone that didn’t even exist. Horror dawned on him.
“Is God real?” he questioned in a whisper.
Agatha resisted the urge to hit Bridgette again; she really didn’t want to be discussing whether God was real or not with her eight-year-old brother in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve.
“That’s... a big question, Charlie,” she said eventually. “One that everyone has a different answer to. I genuinely believe that God is real, and so do mom and dad. They’re not lying about Him, I promise. Whether you believe He’s real or not is something only you can decide.”
Charlie nodded, taking all of this in very seriously. By now his tears had stopped, and while his eyes were drooping with sleep, he forced himself to stay awake. This was a very important discussion, and he knew there might not be many more chances to have it. Not without mom and dad around, anyway.
“Do you believe in God, Bridge?” he asked Bridgette, who was alarmed by the question.
“I, uh—” She looked at Agatha with anxiety, but upon seeing the eldest sister’s gentle smile and kind eyes, relaxed. “I’m not sure yet. There are a lot of other religions, and I don’t know if I necessarily think that ours is the right one just because we grew up with it. Does that make sense?”
Charlie nodded again. Something within him was stirring, but he wasn’t sure what. He just felt that this was one of the crucial moments in his life, and he had to take in everything. Every single thing his sisters said were blowing his mind and expanding it simultaneously. It was if they were turning a page in an atlas to reveal a map of the entire universe, none of which he had known about before.
“And that’s good,” Agatha said to both Bridgette and Charlie. “It’s good to question your faith. Otherwise how can you be sure in what you believe in? Don’t ever let anyone make you feel pressured to believe certain things, okay? Search the world and inside yourself for the answer. Don’t just accept what others tell you.”
Bridgette allowed herself a small smile. She didn’t feel comfortable discussing her doubts with either of her parents, especially considering the way her mother shut down any conversations of that kind, and had assumed that Agatha, the devout Christian, would have the same response. But here she was, teaching them to have their own minds and beliefs.
Overcome with happiness and love for her sister, Bridgette sprung forwards and wrapped her arms around Agatha. The teenager laughed in surprise but hugged her sister back, pulling Charlie into the embrace, too. The three of them remained that way for a little while, until Bridgette and Agatha noticed that Charlie had fallen asleep, his head resting on both of their laps.
“I’ll put him to bed,” Bridgette whispered, seeing the tired look in Agatha’s eyes. The eldest sister nodded appreciatively, gently moving Charlie so that he was in only Bridgette’s arms.
“She looks so cute when she’s sleeping,” Bridgette whispered.
She smiled down at Rosie, who had fallen asleep during the film and was now stretched out over Charlie and Bridgette’s laps, snoozing peacefully while the credits rolled. Bridgette played with Rosie’s hair absentmindedly, braiding and stroking it. Charlie, meanwhile, slipped out from underneath Rosie’s legs in order to tidy up the chocolate wrappers that were littered around the room. Each of them had eaten their age's worth, of course.
“Is it over?” Rosie mumbled, coming to.
When Charlie confirmed that film had ended, Rosie sat up, a new wave of energy overcoming her.
“God, why are teenagers so full of life?” Bridgette complained as Rosie rushed up to find something in the bag she brought with her.
“It’s present time!” she exclaimed, holding up a box wrapped neatly in red and green wrapping paper.
They’d all agreed on a budget of up to ten dollars for gifts. Somehow Rosie wheedled Charlie into paying for her present for Bridgette, too, so he was down twenty dollars. Bridgette, meanwhile, had split her budget in half and spent five dollars on each of them. Rosie and Charlie didn’t exchange gifts for each other, since they would still have to do that on actual Christmas Day.
“How are we doing this?” Charlie asked once they were all sat with their presents on their laps. “One at a time or free for all?”
Bridgette considered it for a moment before announcing it was a free for all and ripping into one of her presents.
For Rosie, Bridgette had given a pair of fluffy socks made to look like reindeer. She squealed when she saw them and rubbed them against her cheeks. For Charlie, Bridgette bought a red checkered scarf. He smiled and wrapped it around himself. For Bridgette, Rosie gave her a braided friendship bracelet in Bridgette’s favourite colours.
“It’s a sister bracelet. I made it myself,” Rosie said with pride.
“Wait, why did I need to give you ten dollars then?” Charlie realised.
Rosie grinned at him in response while Bridgette opened her final present. Charlie had gotten her a large mug with birds and flowers painted on it. As Bridgette held it up to inspect it, Charlie became shy and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I was planning on getting you a mug on the first Christmas when you weren’t here,” he explained. “Since mom didn’t let you take any of the family mugs with you to college. I know you don’t need it now, but… I don’t know, I just wanted to give you it since I couldn’t back then.”
Tears welled in Bridgette’s eyes. “Thank you, Charlie. I love it.” She carefully placed the mug down on the coffee table and pulled Charlie into a hug. “And I love you. You too, Rosie.” She pulled Rosie into the embrace as well.
Once Charlie was under his covers, Bridgette perched on the edge of his bed and looked down at her only brother. His eyes fluttered open and he gave her a sleepy smile.
“I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t mean to make you upset,” she apologised.
“S’okay,” murmured Charlie.
“I didn’t ruin Christmas for you, did I?”
He shook his head. “Family is more important than Santa. As long as I get to spend Christmas with you, I’ll be happy.”
Bridgette leant down and planted a kiss on his forehead with a loud “mwah” that made Charlie cringe and rub at his head.
“I’ll always be with you on Christmas,” she assured him.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”