Phoenix
The house smelled like cookies. It always did on Christmas Eve.
Gram was in the kitchen making her traditional Christmas treats with flour everywhere, even streaked across her smiling face.
Her smile fell when she saw me. “Honey, is something wrong?”
I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “No, Gram, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to ask if I could invite Annabelle over for Christmas?”
“Of course you can. You didn’t even need to ask.”
“Gram, I’m asking if she can spend the night in one of the guest rooms. Her parents don’t celebrate the holidays and probably won’t even be home. I can’t stand the thought of her spending Christmas alone in that house.”
Gram crossed the kitchen and patted my cheek with her flour covered hand. “No one should ever be alone on Christmas. Go get our girl.”
There was no need to tell me twice. I was out the door and across town as fast as I could safely get there.
“Phoenix, what are you doing here?” Annabelle asked when she opened her flimsy front door.
“Go pack a bag, doll face. You’re spending Christmas with us.”
Her mouth opened and closed. “I can’t,” she stammered.
“Why not? Are your parents here?”
She shook her head. “No, they’re not, but I can’t impose on your family’s Christmas.”
“You’re not imposing. Gram told me to come get you. She’s always said no one should spend the holidays alone. Grab your stuff and let’s go. I’m sure she could use your help making cookies.”
I stumbled back a step when Annabelle unexpectedly launched herself into my arms. “Thank you,” she whispered against my neck.
I waited in the living room while she gathered her things, taking in the sparse surroundings. I hated that she was forced to live in such deplorable conditions, but there wasn’t much I could do about it at the time.
It only took her a few minutes to return with her backpack and a large shopping bag full of wrapped presents. I took the bags from her and asked, “Is that everything?”
She shuffled her feet and looked away from me as her cheeks flushed.
“What is it, doll face?”
She cleared her throat, but wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Can I bring my tree?”
Her voice was so quiet I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly, but it didn’t matter what she said, it wouldn’t change my answer. “You can bring whatever you want. Let me put your bags in the truck first and I’ll get it for you.”
When I returned, she led me to her bedroom. In the corner of her room, she had a small artificial Christmas tree with a few ornaments on it. It couldn't have been more than three feet tall and would easily fit in the back seat of my truck.
“I know it’s silly, but this is the only tree I’ve ever had and I don’t want to spend Christmas without it,” she explained, looking embarrassed.
“Baby, it’s not silly. Do you have a garbage bag we can slide over it so the ornaments won’t get broken if they come off while we’re moving it?”
Once the ornaments were secured, we loaded her tree and drove back to my house. Annabelle was unusually quiet during the ride, but she did hold my hand the entire way. I wasn’t sure if she was still feeling embarrassed about her tree or if it had something to do with her parents. Either way, I thought it was best to give her time to work through her feelings. I knew she would talk to me about it when she was ready.
When we pulled into the driveway, I told her, “Go on inside. Gram’s in the kitchen making goodies. I’ll take your things inside and put them in the room you stayed in last time.”
“Thanks, Phoenix,” she whispered and kissed my cheek before getting out and going inside.
As I carefully carried her tree up the stairs, I vowed then and there to do everything I could to make her Christmas special. I had a feeling it was something her parents had never bothered to do for her.