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Christmas is the day that holds all time together. - Alexander Smith
Katniss stood at the window silently rolling one of the wise men from the family’s nativity scene back and forth in her hand. Snow fell softly outside. The pace of the flakes had slowed from near blizzard conditions earlier in the day to a gentle whisper of flakes against the pane by early evening. The wind no longer howled, but the temperature had plunged below freezing with no hint of rising any time soon.
His voice came from behind her softly, but she still jumped when she heard it. “They’ll be here,” he murmured quietly. “Stop worrying, Katniss. They’re safe. We heard from them less than thirty minutes ago.”
She sighed and allowed her shoulders to sag because she knew he was right—hoped he was right, at least—because there were only a few things she knew for certain in this world. She knew she loved her husband, the man who stood behind her to comfort her and had for almost forty years. She knew she loved her children, her daughter and son who were out on the highways in an attempt to make it home for Christmas. That made her a nervous wreck because she couldn’t shake the fear that one or both of them would encounter conditions so poor they would have to stop—or worse, that they wouldn’t and suffer an accident. She knew that possibility was among her worst fears.
Peeta’s strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and she leaned into his embrace. The solidity of him, even after all these years, still brought a smile to her face. She knew that would never change.
She also knew that she missed her sister more than she ever dreamed was possible after so many years without her.
Prim’s life was cut too short when Katniss was only 20 and Prim was 16. Like today, the accident occurred near the holidays and because of snow. Katniss had arrived home from her winter break at college ready to spend time with her mother and younger sister. She’d missed Prim terribly when she was gone, but her education was important to her. She’d promised her father she’d graduate. When he’d been killed in an accident at work, she knew she wouldn’t allow herself to break any of the vows she’d made to him during his life. She hadn’t anticipated losing Prim too.
She could still remember her sister’s infectious grin and the sparkle in her eyes, although time coupled with new memories had faded the colors. Instead of the deep blue of Prim’s eyes, the images in Katniss’ mind were of an ice blue gaze, and the blonde of her deceased sister’s hair shone with silver overtones instead of golden ones.
Prim, who’d just earned her driver’s license mere days before Christmas, was in the bloom of first love and was returning home from an ice skating date with her boyfriend when another driver lost control and slammed into her car. She’d been four blocks from home.
Katniss remembered hearing the impact, wondering if it was a transformer blown from being exerted more than normal with the number of Christmas lights that decorated the houses in the neighborhood. She recalled the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when the sirens grew louder, and Prim wouldn’t answer her phone. Her mind almost wouldn’t recollect the horror of opening the door to see the police officer on the stoop with a grim expression on his face.
The clearest part of that night was seeing Peeta rushing across the street toward her, his curls bouncing on his forehead and his eyes tight with terror. He’d caught her when she fainted, and she woke up in his arms with his tear-streaked face above hers. Instead of reveling in time off during their winter breaks at home, he’d held her while she cried and intertwined his fingers with hers during the funeral she never believed she’d have to attend. It was during that crisis that she grew to appreciate Peeta’s steadiness and love for more than the affectionate friendship she’d always enjoyed with the boy next door.
Shaking her head, she closed her mind’s door on those memories and returned to that same source of comfort. With Peeta’s arms holding her securely, she remembered her younger sister’s joy for life, her spontaneity, and her kind heart. Prim loved everyone and every creature, including a mangy cat Katniss had never liked but mourned when it died a few years after her sister’s accident.
“Katniss,” Peeta murmured, his lips just below her ear, “it’s been 40 years. The kids know how much you worry about weather. They won’t take unnecessary risks to get here.”
“What if it’s not them? What if it’s the other guy? Just like it was with her…” Her voice trailed off in despondent silence, but Peeta refused to let her spiral into despair.
“Stop,” he ordered tenderly. “Let’s enjoy the last few minutes of quiet before our empty nest is full again.”
Peeta was no stranger to loss himself. His own family was killed in a fire years before, just months after Prim had been taken. Katniss had returned the favor he’d offered her when she needed him most. She held him as sobs wracked his body while he watched his boyhood home burn, knowing he couldn’t save his parents or his brothers who were trapped inside. He’d told her later that the worst feeling he ever had was knowing he was helpless to stop the destruction of something he loved so much.
Their relationship had suffered as a result. Peeta had always loved her, but she hadn’t been willing to accept that until Prim had passed. Just when she began to explore how much she could care for him, he couldn’t face the possibility of losing someone again. She’d tried to be patient with him as he fought against his endless nightmares, waging a war in his own mind that he couldn’t seem to win. The fire had been an accident, but that didn’t ease Peeta’s guilt. No matter how irrational his blame was at himself, he’d held to it until Katniss couldn’t stand it any longer.
She’d marched into his house and forced him to face her and his fears about losing her, too. When she feared that wouldn’t work, she’d resorted to reminding him of the vows they’d made to each other as childhood friends over a couple of shortbread cookies and a cheap drug store pearl ring he’d bought her for her eighth birthday.
With tears in his beautiful blue eyes, he’d broken down and stopped fighting what each of them knew was meant to be. They’d been inseparable after that, something she’d desperately needed when the final blow came. Her mother moved to California from her ancestral home in West Virginia to escape the memories of Prim’s loss. Apparently Katniss hadn’t been enough to keep her there.
But for Peeta, Katniss was always enough. They married just days after graduating from college and returned to the town where both had lost so much. She worked as a counselor in the local school and offered grief therapy on a weekly basis. Peeta had married three of his great loves—baking, art, and speaking. He’d opened a coffee shop, Grind of Life, that built its reputation on freshly baked goods, his exquisite art on the walls, and weekly literature readings highlighting the talents of the local community.
It was a happy life, until the pull of family had gotten to them both. Peeta had succumbed to the yearning before her, but she’d followed shortly after, and they’d welcomed first a daughter and then a son into the world. The daughter looked so much like Prim that they’d named her Rose in memory of the aunt she’d never met. When their son was born, it was Katniss who suggested naming him after Peeta’s lost brothers. The years hadn’t been easy on either of them, but Rose and Rye had colored their world with happiness. Katniss had vowed to embrace every moment and not live in fear of losing what she had.
Tonight, however, she couldn’t suppress her uneasiness as the hands on the clock ticked relentlessly onward and the driveway remained empty. Even Peeta’s gentle touch couldn’t stop the inner tremble she felt building in her gut and out through her limbs.
Peeta released her and pulled her gently toward the sofa. His fingers worked to pry hers from the trinket she held in her hand and replaced the figurine in its rightful place in the nativity scene before settling with her on the couch. “Sing for me,” he asked in his gentle way, and the words fell from her before she could stop herself.
The tunes weren’t joyful. There was no Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree or Joy to the World in her repertoire that night. Instead, she sang wistful, almost reverent, slow hymns and melodies. Silver Bells followed Oh Holy Night before she ended with All is Well. Her voice trembled on the final notes as a tear streaked down her cheek. All would not be well until her family was safe and complete within her home.
Peeta stroked the end of the braid she’d worn consistently through the years, although streaks of gray colored it much more than in seasons past. She knew he was anxious too, but his attention to her needs was just one more example of the selflessness her husband possessed.
“Peeta,” she said softly, overcome with gratitude for his caring nature.
“Hmm?” he hummed in answer with a smile on his face.
She noticed a few new laugh lines around his eyes and it struck her that he was getting older. It’s not that she hadn’t realized it before. They were the same age, and her face stared back at her from the mirror every day. Somehow, though, Peeta had always seemed ageless to her—as strong when he lifted their newborn daughter from the crib as he had been when he won the state wrestling championship his senior year in high school. He was as loving when he bandaged Rye’s knee after he’d fallen off his bike as he’d been when he’d gotten down on one knee and asked her to be his wife. The years had been good to him, but they’d still been long ones.
“Talk to me. You always know what to say to make things better.”
“Do you remember our first Christmas together?” he asked with a low chuckle. “We were so young, only 22, and we’d just gotten our first apartment together after the wedding. Do you remember that horrible lopsided tree with so many gaps in the branches that you could see the wall through it? How did we ever think that was pretty?”
“It was pretty!” she protested. “You made all those hand painted ornaments since we didn’t have any others. They were beautiful.”
“You’re too kind,” he laughed and glanced at the tree in the corner. “I can’t believe you still hang that one up every year.”
“It’s my favorite,” she murmured softly as she gazed at the multi-faceted star he’d decorated with broad brush strokes and intricate designs.
“It’s old,” he argued, “like me.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not. I won’t be old until May.”
“You’re six months younger than me, Katniss.” When he caught the look in her eye, he amended his statement, “But yes! Your youthfulness radiates from every pore.”
Her lips twitched, and she ran her hand down her braid self-consciously. “I’m not that young either.”
“Maybe not, but you’re still as beautiful as you were when I fell in love with you all those years ago.”
She shook her head at him. Peeta often left her speechless with his professions. The fact that he meant each compliment, that none of them were lines, made her flush every time.
His eyes took on a faraway look and he recalled another Christmas memory. “My favorite holidays were those when the kids were younger. I think it was when Rose was six or seven and Rye was four, and we spent all night Christmas Eve building the dollhouse and putting together the bikes. You wanted everything to be perfect that night. You must have arranged and rearranged the presents fifteen times before you were satisfied.”
“That was the perfect year,” she reminisced. “They both knew about Santa, both still believed, and Rye was just old enough to really understand what Christmas meant. Just old enough to be excited about opening presents and writing a Christmas letter and leaving cookies for Santa to eat when he brought the gifts.”
“I ate so many cookies that year,” he groaned in memory, “and then you forgot to fill the stockings before you went to bed. You made me get up just when I’d fallen asleep and help you split up the chocolate. I still think you put more in your stocking than anyone else’s.”
“Well, it’s not like you were perfect either. You cussed so much while you put the bikes together that I was afraid you’d forgotten every other word in your vocabulary. You weren’t quite so eloquent that night, if I remember correctly.”
“But wasn’t it worth it?” he asked with shining eyes. “Their reactions were so precious the next morning—even on three hours of sleep.”
“It was always worth it. Especially since that was the last year my mom came here to see her grandkids.”
“She fought hard to stay with us, Katniss. To stay with you,” he reminded her tenderly. “Sometimes you just can’t fight anymore.”
Katniss nodded and swallowed past the lump in her throat. Kidney cancer had ravaged her mother’s body so quickly she’d been gone within months. At least they’d had time to reconnect during the final days of her mother’s life.
“What about the Christmas Rose brought Skylar home with her for the first time? I don’t particularly remember you handling that one very well,” she said with a nudge of her shoulder against his.
“I was unprepared,” he said flatly. “How was I supposed to know he’d end up being my son-in-law?”
“Peeta, as much as Rose looks like my side of the family, she’s always been your daughter. She fell in love with him early on, and she never wavered in that. Just like you did with me.”
“She still could have let us know that they’d moved past friendship and were dating,” he said wryly. “It wasn’t much fun walking in on them making out with his hand up her shirt.”
“I’ll admit it would have been smarter on her part not to decide to jump him on the couch instead of finding a more private spot, but you didn’t have to punch him, Peeta,” she teased. “I thought you were a pacifist anyway.”
“Not about my baby girl,” he snapped.
“She was 18 at the time, Peeta. She hadn’t been a baby for a long time.”
He sighed and ran his hand through his tousled curls. “She’ll always be my baby girl,” he admitted in a rush of emotion.
“Just like Rye will always be my baby boy.”
He chuckled before goading her, “I don’t remember you handling his first Christmas with a girlfriend too well either.”
“That girl was nothing but full of ulterior motives and poison.”
“True, but that was something Rye had to figure out for himself. Hearing his mother criticize his first love wasn’t going to go well. You had to know that.”
Her eyes narrowed at the memory. Rye’s anger toward her had raged days past Christmas. It wasn’t until he caught the girl kissing someone else on Valentine’s Day that he relented and admitted his mother was right before nursing his first broken heart.
“So many memories,” she murmured and leaned her head on his shoulder.
He kissed the crown of her head and nestled his cheek against hers before answering. “There’s no one I would have rather shared them with, Katniss Everdeen Mellark.”
“Even Cashmere?” she teased affectionately. “I seem to remember you being a little bit enamored with that leggy, busty, overly friendly blonde.”
“Don’t even start with that. Worst waitress who ever worked for me. I still can’t believe she practically mounted me in my office at the coffee shop—and in that naughty Mrs. Claus costume.” He shook his head at the unwanted memory. “Besides, you wore your own version much, much, much better when you finally got over being mad and decided to make up to me after I’d done absolutely nothing wrong.”
She flushed a little at his words. Time hadn’t dimmed that memory for her. Visions of the night flashed through her mind—his mouth open in ecstasy, her hands tracing the grooves of his sculpted torso, the sound of her name escaping his lips in a tortured but blissful groan, the feel of him inside her, her sense of power as she rode him. She’d memorialized every second of that night, especially since they were both fairly positive Rose had been conceived in their union of passion and forgiveness—her fire and his gentle nature.
Despite the flawlessness of that night, Katniss couldn’t resist kidding him, “Better not saint yourself yet, Peeta. You weren’t always perfect.”
He shot her the lopsided grin that made him look twenty again and said pointedly, “No, but I never had eyes for anyone but you. After all these years, there’s no one else with whom I’d rather be sharing this moment. No one else I’d want to comfort from irrational fears. No one else I’d rather have made babies with and kissed into silence when we fought and decorated trees with and created memories with and made time stand still at perfect moments.”
A tear escaped the corner of her right eye, but he caught it with his thumb. “Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he murmured and pressed his lips to her trembling ones.
Lights from the driveway highlighted the walls as they broke apart, and Katniss leapt from the couch and ran to the window. “Oh, Peeta,” she squeaked in relief, “they’re here. They’re both here. They’re all here!”
“Told you so,” he teased and moved to the front door.
Rose emerged from the SUV first and streaked up the sidewalk to launch herself into her father’s arms. Peeta’s arms closed around her in relief, and he twirled her in circles until she laughingly begged him to stop. When he set her down, Katniss opened her arms and welcomed her daughter home as Skylar released the car seat from the back and greeted his in-laws with a wave.
“What’s a person got to do around here to get some attention?” Rye called from the opened door of his pickup. His wife smiled affectionately at him as he jumped from the vehicle and engulfed Peeta in a bear hug. Then he leapt onto the porch and kissed Katniss on the cheek with a huge smack.
“Hi, Mom,” he said with a grin. “Merry Christmas! I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, Rye! I’m so glad you’re here. So glad you’re safe. All of you are safe.”
“Let’s get inside. Don’t want to wake the baby,” Peeta said as he carried his granddaughter out of the frigid air.
The house that had been so quiet before fairly bustled with energy as the six adults lapsed into a familiar routine of jokes and affectionate banter. Rose settled her daughter in her old room and joined Katniss by the window.
“You still keeping Auntie Prim’s nativity scene, huh, Mom?”
Katniss nodded as she gazed at the figurines. “It was my father’s,” she offered in explanation. “Prim loved it so much that he gave it to her the last Christmas before he died. And then… And then she was gone too, and I couldn’t— I just couldn’t. It’s part of who I am now. It wouldn’t be Christmas without it.”
“I wish I’d met her,” Rose sighed wistfully. “I’m so sorry you lost her, Mom. And Daddy losing everyone. It’s just not fair.”
“No,” she responded, “it’s not, but you and your brother have helped make life a lot better.”
“Well, I have. Not sure about Rye.” Rose winked and walked across the room to join the others.
Katniss leaned against the windowsill to take in the commotion. It seemed for a moment that time stood still. She caught a glimpse of Peeta’s father and brothers in the way Rye turned his head and Prim’s sweetness in the way Rose gazed at her husband. Wedding portraits of both her parents and Peeta’s framed the fireplace, and she could almost swear she saw her father smile at her as Peeta wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her ear.
“What are you thinking, Katniss?” he wondered as he cradled her against him.
She wrapped her fingers around his forearms and admired the strength in them. How could she ever really express how much all this meant to her?
“I was just thinking… I’d like to freeze this moment in time and live in it forever.”
“Okay,” he agreed with a smile in his voice.
She turned to nestle closer to him and asked, “So, you’ll allow it?”
“I’ll allow it. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”