Unwrap My Heart

Capítulo 13

WILLY

I drove the forty minutes to my sister’s house while my mother kept up a very one-sided conversation from the shotgun seat. I wasn’t sure if she was that excited about spending Christmas Eve with her granddaughters, or if she was trying to keep us each from getting lost in our own thoughts, but I didn’t think she even took a breath for one two-mile stretch.

But about ten minutes from the house, she got quiet and I decided that was worse. I glanced over to find her staring out her window, her mouth set in the firm line I recognized as a sign she was trying not to be emotional.

“Do you want to see if we can find a coffee shop or something open before we get there?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“Once I get my hands on those two babies, I’ll be fine. I’m just... there’s a damn strawberry rhubarb pie in the backseat.”

I reached over and put my hand over my mother’s. Nobody but my dad liked strawberry rhubarb pie, so my mother only ever made it once a year. It was one of her Christmas gifts to her husband and he often gloated about having an entire pie to himself.

The pie would go uneaten this year, but she’d made it anyway. Out of habit maybe, or because it made her feel close to the husband she’d lost.

“We’ll cut a slice out and all have a bite,” I said. “For Dad.”

“The gagging sounds and spitting in napkins will be a lovely tribute,” she said, and we both laughed.

We were both in better spirits by the time I pulled into Fernanda’s driveway and cut the engine. After helping my mom out because there was just enough of a dusting of snow to make the pavement slick, I grabbed a bag of gifts out of the backseat. Between presents and food, I’d be making a few trips.

“Abuela!” I heard the girls yell as the front door opened. “Uncle Willy!”

I set the bag down just in time to get an armful of girls in matching Christmas nightgowns.

“Merry Christmas, princesas!”

I’d been worried about coming— afraid it would hurt too much to see the happiness when my own had been taken. But my nieces were radiating excitement. And there was good food and good company and flying wrapping paper. It was impossible not to be happy to be here.

None of my trips back to New Hampshire had been for Christmas. My family had never pushed, seeming to understand it would be too hard, and had been thankful to have him for a big Easter dinner. The previous Christmas, I’d watched Luz and Marcia open their gifts from me in a video chat, but it didn’t compare to experiencing the joyful chaos live and in person.

I was glad I’d come, and I let myself sit back and enjoy the holiday spirit.

He watched Darío lean down to speak quietly to Fernada, his hand resting at the base of her neck. My sister smiled and nodded, and then Darío kissed her cheek before going into the kitchen. Then Fernanda leaned back in her chair and her smile was warm as she watched her daughters play.

My heart ached, and I imagined another little girl sitting on the floor with Luz and Marcia. She would have been much older than her cousins, and Delores would have enjoyed visiting with Fernanda and the rest of the family.

There was a time when the sudden sense of what I’d lost would have punched me in the gut and probably sent me out of the house. I would have stood on my sister’s front porch, gulping frigid air in an effort not to shed tears.

But tonight I just watched my nieces and wondered if Andrés would be as excited about the trucks I had bought him as the girls were about the little Disney princess playhouse kits I’d given them.