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Christmas!
Henry could barely keep himself still from the fact that Christmas was almost here. Santa was going to be making his rounds tonight and he was practically bouncing off the walls with all the energy. He was making sure he was being extra nice today and didn't want to risk losing his spot on the list.
He helped Mom make the cookies they were going to leave. She decorated them better, and her lines always came out nice and neat, but he did his best. He helped Ma set the dinner table and do the dishes. He even helped Grandma and Grandpa with his baby uncle, distracting him and playing with him while they ate.
He might’ve gotten a few naughty points for the snowball fight, he hit Ma in the head hard. Henry didn’t mean it though and like Mom always says, Ma has a thick head, so it didn’t hurt that much. He even made sure to apologize 3 times! And they all shared a cup of cocoa afterward. It was nearing bedtime already and he wasn’t even the least bit tired. Bath and brushing his teeth only seemed to make him more alert, jumping around Ma as she brushed her teeth.
He raced down the stairs to meet Mom, the gingerbread cookies that he decorated were all arranged on a plate. He grabbed one of the finer dinner placemats to set it on the counter by the chimney, carrying the plate carefully so it didn’t fall off to set it down. Mom helped with the glass of milk and Henry took the opportunity to check his stocking again, but it was still empty. Only a couple more hours though!
“You ready for bed, kid?” Ma’s voice from the doorway made him turn, a wide smile on his face. He raced towards her, jumping in her arms as she lifted him and turned him in the air. She held him upside down for Mom who ran her hand through his hair and kissed him on his nose.
“Can’t I stay up with you? I’m not tired.” He held onto Ma’s arm as she moved him, settling him to straddle her back.
“I’m afraid not, my little Prince. You need to be in bed or Santa won’t come.” Mom shared a look with Ma, one that Henry didn’t quite understand. Her hand came up to brush Ma’s cheek, kissing her before she turned to smile at him. He let out a soft chuckle, hiding his face in Ma’s blond curls. “You don’t want Santa to miss us, do you?”
“No!”
“Easy kid, you’re right by my ear.” She pulled her head to the side at his shout, bouncing him as he erupted in his giggles. Ma spun for him, Mom’s hand reaching out to land on her arm to stop her from continuing for too long.
“You’re going to get him dizzy and sick.”
“Nah, he got his Ma’s strong stomach. Right, kid?”
“Yeah, but I got Mom’s brains.”
Ma let out a dramatic gasp at that, sending both Henry and Mom into a laugh of their own. She moved to kneel, setting him back on his feet, much to his disappointment. Mom’s hand reached out to smooth the front of Ma’s red flannel shirt, a wide smile on her lips. She handed her one of the cookies she had made, which Ma took and ate so quickly Henry was convinced it disappeared in thin air.
Mom ran her hand through Ma’s curls, fingers looping through and she pulled her down for a small kiss. Without the heels she has to wear for work, Mom was shorter. She was fixing Ma up, her shirt, her hair, even though Henry didn’t always see what she needed fixing on. Mom did that with Henry too, he figured Ma liked it anyways, she never told her to stop and she always got a silly smile on her lips. “We should probably get Henry to bed.”
“No!” Henry rushed through the room, nearly getting caught by Ma as he turned around the back of the couch. He could hear footsteps coming from both sides, soft steps to the left from Mom, and the heavier set of Ma from the right. Ducking up to look at both of them, he pulled himself up and jumped over the back of the couch, running to duck behind the plate of milk and cookies.
“What if we pulled Operation: Neverland?” Ma was the first to suggest it, Mom’s eyes turning to look at her with a smile, while Henry stayed firmly behind the side table. She moved to sit on the couch, a show of goodwill, Mom coming to sit beside her, tucking her legs up under her while she rested her head on Ma’s shoulder. Henry moved to take a step to the side, his eyes lighting up as he watched them carefully.
“Two stories.”
“One.” Mom didn’t negotiate, her eyes narrowing playfully at Henry. He knew he wasn't going to win this time. With a deep breath, he nodded, moving closer to let himself be captured by the enemy, Mom lifted him to tuck him between them, her hands smoothing out his pajamas and his hair.
“What story would you like to hear, kid?” Ma’s fingers fiddled with the edge of her shirt, Mom coming to rest her hand on Ma’s thigh. Stories always made Ma jittery, but Henry knew it was probably the sugar from the cookie. It’s why Mom always said no sweets before bedtime. Henry didn’t quite have one in mind, the whole suggestion throwing him off balance. Usually, he knew when it was going to be brought up, or what story to ask them.
“Can you tell our story again? With the dragons this time.”
“Dragons?” Mom laughed at that, which made Henry cross his arms, bottom lip sticking out. She ran a hand down his arm, pressing kisses to the top of his head until his pout erupted into giggles. “Once upon a time, there was a queen.” Her voice was low, gentle, almost as if telling a secret, the deepest parts of the heart. “And she cast a glorious curse that gave her everything she wanted.”
“Or so she thought,” Ma murmured, earning a nudge from Mom and she sat up straighter, pulling away from Ma. She moved to settle herself deeper into the couch, arm coming up to curl around Mom’s shoulders, holding them close. “What? I’m just saying.”
“Keep your saying to yourself, Sheriff Swan.”
“That’s Sheriff Swan-Mills to you, Madam Mayor.”
“You’re insufferable.”
Henry didn’t know what that meant, but given that it made Ma smile and Mom gave her another kiss, it must mean something nice. He’ll have to remember that to tell his friends at school. “What happened to the queen?”
“Well, she despaired when she learned that revenge was not enough. She was lonely.” Mom continued. Henry didn’t have to ask what that word meant. This was his favorite story, of his family, of his moms. He could hear it every night.
“And so, she searched all of the lands for some company,” Ma murmured, getting Henry’s attention for her to wink at him. Mom smacked her shoulder, her brow raising as she looked at her.
“I was searching the land for a little boy to be my prince.”
“That’s me!” Henry let out a giggle as Ma started to tickle his side, Mom’s hand combing through his hair. She traced her thumb over his cheek, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. He wiggled away, burying closer into the embrace of both parents, in an attempt to dodge more kisses.
“Yes. On the way, I found your Ma. I must admit, we hated each other at first. A lonely queen and an impatient princess didn’t quite mix well. She was looking for a way out. An adventure.”
“I was looking for a family.” Ma’s voice was low, almost sad. But she was smiling. She always smiled when she told me this part. Henry never could quite figure out why. It wasn’t funny. Not to his knowledge at least. “And I stumbled onto the queen. She was very impressive and she taught the princess so much more than she ever learned at the palace.”
“As they worked together, the queen and the princess, found they were slowly enjoying each other's company. They didn’t fight as often anymore. But they still haven't found a prince. They had to find a magic feather in the lair of a dragon.”
“They practiced for so long, day and night until they could do it in their sleep.”
“Until one day, they went into the cave. There they found the feather, but they ended up waking the dragon.”
“Fighting together wasn’t like any practice they ever did. It was hard.” Ma was getting excited, her hands waving through the air. Henry could almost feel the heat of the dragon's fire, his eyes glued to his moms. “They almost couldn’t make it. The dragon was too strong. But they had each other. And they were working together.”
“Eventually they won. The princess threw her sword so hard and so far it struck the dragon and they were free. Free to use the magic that brought them their greatest treasure. Their little prince.’”
“Dragons.” Henry yawned at that, his eyes getting heavy but he was fighting it. He sat curled up between them, taking his time to process that story. It seemed incredible, wanting to visit that place. Witness the magic and the action on his own. “I want to fight dragons when I’m older.”
“I’m sure you will, my little prince. But for now, let’s get you to bed, hm?” Mom stood from her seat, settling Henry down to his feet before she reached out her hand towards Henry, who took it as she led the way out of the room and towards the stairs. He turned to watch Ma, making sure she was following after, before he took off up the stairs, racing past each one and into his room.
Bedtime was always the same, being tucked in by Mom and Ma, and goodnight kisses. He loved when Mom brushed his hair back and Ma always checked each hiding spot for monsters. If he ever found some or needed her help, he had his walkie-talkie by the bed to call her. Even when she was out at work because a Sheriff sometimes has to work nights like Mom always says. It was all too soon that kisses were over with and they were leaving the room, letting the door close behind them. It didn’t always take him long to sleep, usually tired from playing with Ma or from a full day of Mom helping with homework.
But tonight was Christmas! Even as he sat in bed and closed his eyes, he still couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning, checking the time every five minutes.
It had been close to two hours after he was put to bed when sleep was slowly starting to claim him when he heard a bell jingle. He let his eyes open just a bit, the clock reading midnight. He turned to look at the door, it was dark, and the only sounds he could hear were his breathing and the gentle hum of the ceiling fan blades turning. Henry moved to sit up, his eyes glued to the door but there was nothing.
Another Jingle. It happened again. Henry’s breath caught in his throat as a light turned on downstairs, the warm glow of it slowly filtering through the crack of the door. There was more noise, a rustle, a thud. Footsteps, big and heavy. Not like Mom’s, and they were too loud to be Ma’s.
Santa.
He was here. He let out a soft disbelieving laugh, his hands falling to his lap as he watched his palms. Santa was here. Henry can hear him downstairs. It had to be him. And he was awake.
He moved to get out of bed, his heart starting to hammer in his chest. Grabbing the walkie-talkie, he slipped his fuzzy slippers on as he made his way toward the door. A shiver ran through his back in the absence of his blankets, the cold air of the fan hitting his heated skin. The door handle was ice cold and he hesitated.
If it was Santa, Henry wanted to see him. But because he's awake, will it mean he goes on the naughty list? Will he be mad? Wouldn’t Santa already know he’s up?
He could hear faint laughter and gentle murmurs. Whatever Henry decides to do, it has to be now, or else he might miss seeing him. He turned the knob, opening the door as quietly as he could. The hall light was off, his eyes flickering to Mom and Ma’s closed door, hoping they’ll wake up too. They’re going to miss Santa!
Henry made his way towards the stairs, the lights were on and there was music playing. It was low enough that he didn’t hear it in his room, but he could hear it now. He took a couple of steps, crouching to try to see where Santa could be. He could see the Christmas decorations he helped put up. The snowflakes and mistletoe. The top of the Christmas tree to the end of the living room.
But he couldn't see anyone.
He took a couple more steps down, settling to sit on the steps as far as he could. He could see the entire room now. There was a hint of something red moving. A red coat, a hat. It was Santa! He was tall, and his coat and hat were so bright it almost matched Ma’s red jacket that Mom didn’t like. It was lined with white fur, long white hair in a bun, the jingly bells strapped to the hat, and his big brown boots. He even had his sack with him, set down by the tree with all the presents. The presents! There were so many Henry had to cover his mouth to keep from squealing. Santa was tracking in the snow! Mom’s going to be so mad.
But what was he doing? Henry looked to check the cookies and milk, but they were already done. He seemed to be swaying to the music. Was he dancing? He didn’t know Santa could dance. His back was towards him and Henry was silently trying to urge him to turn around. He wanted to see his face. To see Santa.
The music was getting louder, it was one of Mom’s favorite songs. He’ll have to tell Mom that Santa likes her music too. Henry couldn’t keep his excitement down as he saw him starting to turn. He had something in his arms, he could see something, the white of Santa’s beard, black shadows, but it wasn’t very clear. As the music swelled and reached its peak, Santa dipped, and Henry saw that it wasn't something in his arms, but someone.
His Mom.
Mom was dancing with Santa, her laughter bubbling up as he brought her back to standing. His arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her pressed up against him. But that was his Mom. Where was Ma? Why was she dancing with him? Her lips were red with her favorite lipstick, the marks of it were on Santa’s nose, her hands were on his shoulders and they were swaying to the music as it slowed.
They seemed so happy.
Santa rested his forehead against Mom’s, they were talking but Henry couldn’t hear anything over the music. Henry held the walkie-talkie closer to his chest, shuffling on his feet as he moved down a couple more steps. He wanted to hear more, to try to figure out what was going on. His heart dropped in his chest as he watched Mom kiss Santa. It wasn’t a small Henry kiss either. It was a kiss she always gave Ma. The ones that grossed him out.
He flew up the stairs, his footsteps thundering after him, not even caring if Santa would hear. He didn’t care if he was on the naughty list now because Santa was on the list. He kissed his Mom! They were kissing!
Henry all but burst into Ma’s room, jumping into bed, but Ma wasn’t there. He knew Mom was downstairs. Was Ma working tonight? Is that why she’s not here?
“Ma! Ma! Come in!” He was frantic as he called into his radio. There was static on his end, he could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Henry ran off of the bed, moving to slam the door of the bedroom shut, locking it. “Ma! I need you!”
“Henry?” It was her voice. He let out a soft whimper as he pressed his back against the door. “Kid-”
“Ma, you have to come home! Mom did something really really bad!”
“Kid-”
“Are you coming home? Where are you?”
“Henry?” Mom’s voice came from the other side of the door, the knob rattling but it didn’t budge. He didn’t hear the heavy footsteps, just hers. She let out a shaky sigh, trying the door again before knocking. “Henry, can you let me in, please?”
Henry shut his eyes tight as he held the walkie-talkie to his chest, his breath hitching in his throat. Why wasn’t Ma responding to him? He could hear the heavy footsteps coming, slow and steady up the stairs. They were getting nearer, but there was still no answer from Ma’s end. He moved to grab one of Mom’s slippers. If Ma wasn’t going to come, it was up to Henry to fight.
“He’s not answering me. I don't know what to do.” Mom sounded worried and upset. He put his walkie-talkie down to reach over to the door handle, thumb hovering over the lock. Henry could hear something, soothing murmurs, and the footsteps came clo
He flung open the door, swinging the slipper to hit Santa’s arm again and again and again. His green eyes looked confused, almost stunned and Mom let out a soft gasp. Santa lifted him, turning him around and upside down like Ma always does, making him miss his hits, although he still swung. “Let go!”
“Easy kid. It’s me.”
“Ma?”
Henry stilled, his eyes turning to Mom, but she hadn’t spoken and his walkie-talkie was back in the room. She was trying to hide a laugh, her eyes watery as if she was fighting back crying too. Santa moved to set him back on his feet, his hand coming to pry the slipper from his grip. His head tilted, eyes taking in Santa’s face. It was in dim light, the only light coming from downstairs, but he can still see the greens of the eyes, the lipstick marks Mom left. He could see where the white beard began, the thin string holding it against their face.
Oh.
Santa was Ma.