Coldest Winter || Delia and Teddy

blondexhurricane:

Six weeks and three days.

That was how long it had been since the seven year old had seen her father. He’d helped with her homework, read her favorite bedtime story, and then put her to bed with a kiss goodnight on the forehead after first checking to make sure there weren’t any scary monsters hiding out underneath it. She’d peacefully slept the night away, blissfully ignorant to the fact that the monsters, or hippos in this case, were wreaking their havoc elsewhere.

It was now Christmas Day, but for the first time in her life, Delia couldn’t find a single reason to celebrate her once favorite holiday. Who knew? Maybe all of her optimism had died along with Henry. No, that couldn’t be true, because he wasn’t really gone. Santa Claus himself had promised that he would do his best to bring her daddy back home where he rightfully belonged. That was all the little blonde needed to hear, because as far as she was concerned, Santa was magic. Somehow, he’d find a way.

Boxes of unopened doctor kits, baby dolls, and other toys were littered underneath the Christmas tree, and Dr. Seuss’ How The Grinch Stole Christmas was playing on the television in the background, but Delia’s undivided attention was focused elsewhere. With a mug of hot chocolate in one hand and a half eaten candy cane in the other, her eyes were fixated on the pouring rain outside the window. Unlike with most children her age though, it wasn’t because she was wishing for the water to suddenly turn to snow. More like she knew that at any given moment, Henry would come walking up to the front door, and all of her wishing, hoping, and praying would finally pay off.

Daytime was slowly yet surely beginning to fade into night, but Delia wasn’t too worried. After all, that was what Rudolph was for anyway, right? His bright red nose could guide the sleigh through anything from the darkest night to a never ending thunderstorm. Besides, Christmas wasn’t over yet. Santa could still prove to her that she’d done the right thing by trusting in him with the most important present she could ever ask for. There was still time.

Six hours and three minutes.

Six weeks and three days.

That was how many nights Teddy had slept alone, Henry’s side of the bed cold and hard against her. He’d warmed her when her heart turned to stone, thawed her veins when everything else seemed desolate. She’d taken him for granted then — counted on a groundless hope that he’d always be there. It was cruel, now, to think of how wrong she’d been. 

There’d been eight Christmases that they’d shared — or had it been nine? Teddy feared that she was already starting to forget. Because she’d never expected any Christmas to be their last, she hadn’t thought to treasure them; for this, Teddy would always harbor regret. She’d never wanted to let the memory of a single day go amiss, let alone Christmas. 

The holiday season had come around just as surely as the fidelity of Henry’s hand, but it seemed as though this year’s would be a mere shadow of what Teddy had remembered. No longer would she have company as she awaited her daughter’s slumber; she’d be waiting alone tonight, half the wine gone to waste for lack of another to share it with.

These past few days, Teddy had begun to suspect what Delia had wished for. Not only had the presents under the tree been passed before her daughter with indifference, Delia was now looking out the window as though she were waiting for something — or someone, rather. For what would Teddy herself had wished for, if she had believed in dreams?

How she wished she were as innocent as her daughter — was it truly so bad to want to hold on to hope? Delia, young as she was, still trusted in her father to come home; yet, the years and the grief had Teddy knowing better. She could really have used a wish right then, but as her dreams scattered like the birds scattered their songs, she’d all but lost her faith.

This year, instead of counting down the moments with her family, she was counting it down to her first lonesome Christmas.

Six hours and three minutes.