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Snowflakes blew past the window in frenzied flurries, and the howl of wind moaned through the rafters. It was a cold Christmas, even for Westchester. Rowan huddled deeper into her bed and pulled the blankets tighter around herself.
The scent of ham and mashed potatoes wafted up to Rowan’s room, but not even that enticed her to get out of her bed. The de Leóns were doing everything to make her Christmas a happy one, including making the traditional Burke family dishes alongside their Dominican dishes, but it didn’t change the fact that this was the worst day Rowan had had in weeks.
It was her first Christmas without them—without her family. Her first Christmas not waking up to Annie’s excited screams and her dad’s poppyseed muffins, her first Christmas not helping her mom make gingerbread cookies to give away to friends and coworkers. It wasn’t the de Leóns’ fault. They were perfect and kind and oh so good to her. But right now, all she wanted was to lay in bed forever and never wake up.
Knock knock knock
The rapping pulled Rowan from her thoughts. “Who is it?” she groaned into her pillow.
“The greatest, most amazing friend to grace God’s green earth,” came the reply.
Rowan huffed out a laugh. “The biggest-headed friend to grace God’s green earth, I think you mean. And you know you can always come in without asking, Amalia. This is your room, too.”
The door creaked open to reveal Amalia, her hair messily pulled back and a bright red Santa hat balanced atop her head.
She grinned and held out a plate of ham, mashed potatoes, rice, and guandules. “If you won’t come to Christmas, Christmas comes to you!” In her other hand, she lifted up a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “And my parents said I could take this. You and I will be partying hard tonight.”
A small smile pulled at Rowan’s lips, but almost immediately she turned her back on Amalia with a sigh. “You don’t have to do this, Amalia.”
“Do what?”
“Spend your Christmas trying to cheer me up. It’s really okay. Just go celebrate with your parents and have fun. I’ll join you… if I’m feeling up to it.”
Silence blanketed the room, and for a moment Rowan thought Amalia had left. But then she felt the mattress sink and heard the springs creak as Amalia sat beside her on the bed.
“Rowan.”
“Yeah.”
“…Do you wanna talk about it?”
The words made Rowan’s breath catch and her heart pick up speed.
“Talk about what?” Rowan asked, but she knew full well what Amalia meant.
Amalia bit her lip and threw Rowan a sideways glance. “I know it’s your first Christmas without them. It can’t be easy.”
Rowan’s mind flashed to last Christmas. Her parents had given her and Annie a new gaming console, and the two of them spent most of the day sabotaging each other in Mario Kart. They paused for dinner and photos—Rowan’s dad insisted they all wear matching moose pajamas and fake antlers—and then again for dessert. Annie ate too much pumpkin pie and threw up.
Rowan’s heart tightened in her chest. She’d had no idea that it would be her last Christmas with them.
“It… doesn’t feel like Christmas,” Rowan finally managed to say. Her voice was barely a whisper, and Amalia had to lean in close to hear. “And the truth is, I don’t know if I want it to feel like Christmas. It feels wrong to celebrate without them.”
Amalia placed her hand over Rowan’s and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Okay then. It’s not Christmas.”
Rowan rolled onto her side, finally facing Amalia, and blinked at her in confusion. “Huh?”
“It’s not Christmas. It’s just a regular Tuesday.” Amalia rolled off the bed and took off her Santa hat before setting it on the bedside table. “And you know what we do on Tuesdays.”
“...What do we do on Tuesdays?”
Amalia threw Rowan a confused look. “I mean, I know we haven’t done it in a while, but popcorn and puzzles?”
Rowan just stared blankly at her.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” Amalia said.
“Okay, then I won’t tell you.”
Amalia chuckled and moved to her closet, where she started rummaging through the shelves. “We used to make a blanket fort and then eat popcorn and do puzzles inside the fort. Remember?”
Now that Rowan thought about it, it was starting to come back to her. Popcorn and puzzles used to be one of her favorite things to do with Amalia.
“What about your parents though?” Rowan asked. “It’s Christmas. You should spend it with your family.”
Amalia stepped out of the closet, her arms full of jigsaw puzzles and booklets full of riddles and crosswords. “What are you talking about?” she asked as she dumped her collection onto her bed. “You’re my family too, Rowan.”
Something inside Rowan swelled at the words, and she couldn’t hide the blush that crept to her cheeks. She looked away.
“So, we doing this or not? Are we having a non-Christmas puzzles and popcorn party?” Amalia said.
Rowan hesitated, and then with a small smile, she threw the blankets off of herself. “Yeah,” she said. “Popcorn and puzzles.”
Amalia’s logical approach to structuring the fort combined with Rowan’s tenacity to get anything to stick anywhere made it quick work to set up the blanket fort. Soon, Rowan and Amalia were sprawled out inside the fort, lying side-by-side on their bellies on top of a soft mound of blankets and pillows. String lights that Amalia had expertly hung sparkled along the edges of the fort, casting a scant glow over the two girls.
“The next clue is ‘Text sent while one is waiting for their plane to finish taxiing,’” Rowan read. “Huh? What is that supposed to mean? Is there a specific word for this type of text?”
“How many letters is it?” Amalia asked, propping herself up on one elbow to look at Rowan’s paper.
“Uh… six.”
Amalia paused for a moment, and then grinned. “Landed!”
“What? What do you mean, landed?”
“That’s the text that you send to the people coming to pick you up when you land.”
“OH!” Rowan scribbled the world ‘LANDED’ into the puzzle. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Good thinking, Amalia!”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she said as she grabbed a handful of popcorn. “Epic blanket forts and solving crosswords.”
Rowan laughed and nudged Amalia with her shoulder. “You’re here for a lot more than that.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Fishing for compliments, are we, de León?”
“Of course.”
Rowan snorted and rolled onto her back, her side pressing up against Amalia’s. “You just… you’re always there for me, Amalia. This year has been the hardest year of my life, and honestly? Sometimes I think that the only reason I’m still here is because of you. Because you were there for me.”
Amalia’s teasing smile faded. “Rowan…”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t need to get so real so fast, but—"
“Ro, you have nothing to apologize for.” Amalia wrapped her arm around Rowan and pulled her into her side. “You know I’ll always be here for you. I’d be happy to turn every Christmas into popcorn and puzzles day and to make you those nasty mayo sandwiches at 2 AM every morning because you always get hungry, because you—” Amalia cuts off, suddenly seeming a little uncertain.
“Because I… what?” Rowan asked.
Amalia cleared her throat. “Because, Ro. You’re my family, and you always will be.”
Rowan’s eyes misted over and she couldn’t help but smile. “You’re my family too, Amalia.”
They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other’s arms, until Rowan felt drowsiness overtake her. And as she fell asleep, her heart could feel just how true Amalia’s words were. Amalia… her family… they were Rowan’s family. And she never wanted to go a single day without them.
Never.
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Morning light spilled in from the window, bleeding into the room and shining in Rowan’s eyes. She groaned and sat up, and with a start, she realized where she was.
She wasn’t at the de Leóns’ home. She hadn’t been there in months. It wasn’t Christmas time, it was still autumn. She was in Connor’s cabin in the woods, and Amalia—
Amalia was gone.
She couldn’t be Rowan’s family anymore. She wasn’t going to be there forever. And Rowan, who had never wanted to go a single day without Amalia by her side, cried alone in her room as she realized that she may just have to live her entire future without the person she loved more than anything in the world.