Chapter Text
Maggie loved Christmas. Maybe more than most people even did. But this year was a little different—it was the fifteenth anniversary of her parents’ death, and as much as she wanted to make it special for Charlotte, her heart was heavy and she wasn’t exactly feeling the Christmas spirit this time. She sighed at the thought of presents, and decorating, and baking, and everything else she’d have to do throughout the month when Emma’s voice brought her back to reality, though she couldn’t really tell what she’d said. A sad, mumbled “what?” made Emma repeat herself.
“I asked if you wanted us to wait for you to be home to go pick a Christmas tree.” She paused before adding, “Are you okay?”
Maggie didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes started to fill with tears. She shook her head quickly, as if doing so would suddenly wash away the pain. She tried to speak but the words remained stuck in her throat. After a couple minutes that seemed like an eternity, she finally managed to get a few words out.
“Fifteen years, Em.”
The sadness on her best friend’s face was the last clue Emma needed to piece it all together. She reached for Maggie’s end, gently caressing it.
“Oh, Mags,” she whispered as she pulled her into her arms.
“That’s fifteen Christmases. And I wish I could tell you it’s gotten easier, I thought it did for a little while, but…it’s always excruciating around the holidays. And—and I just can’t help but imagine what it’d been like if Charlotte had known her grandparents. Sometimes it’s weirdly comforting to think of, but right now…right now it mostly just hurts. I don’t have the strength to, hell, even just decorate. It makes me want to cry. I miss them so much, Em.”
“I know, sweetie.”
“And the worst part is, this is the first Christmas Charlotte might actually, truly, fully remember so it’s got to be even nicer than the years before and I just—I can’t pull myself together. As much as I want to make it special, I can’t seem to be able to get into it and then the guilt hits and I feel like the worst mother and I just—”
“Hey,” Emma interrupted as she wiped one of her best friend’s tears away. “Hey, look at me. You’re not a bad mother just because your grief is harder to deal with right now, okay? Besides, you don’t have to do it all on your own. You don’t even have to do any of it, actually. I can decorate, okay? I can cook. All you have to do is take care of yourself and show up on Christmas day.”
“No, no, I will help. I just wish I had the mental capacity to do it today, but heaven knows if I’ll even get out of work on time to go pick a tree—maybe you should do that while I’m at work actually—and who even am I if my house isn’t decorated on the first day of December? I want to make it magical for her, Em.”
“We will, I promise.”
Maggie smiled and grabbed Emma’s hand, squeezing it as she mouthed a little “thank you.” She checked her watch and wiped the last remaining tears.
“Well, enough self-pity or I’m going to be late. You better pick the nicest tree.”
Emma chuckled, of course they would. Maggie was about to exit the front door when Emma’s voice stopped her.
“Hey Mags?” She waited for her to turn around before adding, “I love you.”
“Love you too. See you tonight,” she said as she closed the door behind her.
When Maggie finally came home that night, the inside of the house looked nothing like it did before her shift. White, red and green Christmas lights were strewn across the banisters, illuminating the otherwise dim hallway and staircase. She dropped her purse on the first step and made her way to the living room, immediately noticing a big, bare tree standing proudly by the window and tinsel on about every piece of furniture they owned, as well as Santa figurines carefully placed around the room. The windows were covered in spray frost snowflakes and other Christmas-y shapes, some more precise than others, and she smiled to herself as she tried to distinguish which ones were her daughter’s and which were Emma’s. She wondered where her best friend was for a minute, maybe she was in her room, or maybe Charlotte woke up and she’d gone to soothe her back into slumber, who knew? A light snore coming from the middle of the room caught her attention and as she came closer, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the view of a sleeping Emma on the couch, surrounded by more tinsel and ornaments she was yet to display. She reached for her phone in her pocket and snapped a picture—there was no way she wouldn’t tease Emma about it in the morning—but the flash of the camera, of course, had to go off, making Emma shift and rub her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I know,” Emma replied with a yawn. “Do you like it?”
Maggie looked around the room again, a little longer this time, properly taking it in. The care Emma had put into decorating the house, while most likely helped by Charlotte, was so very obvious.
“It’s beautiful, Em.”
“Char-bar and I waited for you to do the tree, but then it got late and—”
“And you had to put her to bed, I know,” Maggie interrupted with a smile.
It was the third time that her shift had run longer than expected that week—or maybe fourth, she couldn’t exactly remember, her mind almost as exhausted as her body was—and while she loved her job, and she knew Emma didn’t mind taking care of Charlotte, she wouldn’t have been against spending more time with her child.
“Hey,” Emma said softly as she grabbed her hand. “We’ll do it together tomorrow, okay? You go and get some rest.”
Maggie nodded. Thankfully she was off work the next day, which meant she would finally be able to spend time with both her favorite people. She squeezed Emma’s hand, wished her a good night and made her way up the stairs. Tomorrow would be better.