Ursa Minor (On hiatus)

Missing gingerbread stars pt. I

a/n: I'm just gonna go ahead and dedicate this to all my readers, old and new, anonymous or commenting. I'm not even kidding or exaggerating saying I cherish you all. I'm sorry for the long wait, life does get in the way sometimes. Now I'm back on track, and next part will be published next Sunday. Until then!

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I looked out of the kitchen window. It just kept on snowing. Ok so maybe some of it gave up during the sunny afternoons, and it was probably far from the Minnesotan amount, but still. Christmas day and our house felt cozily embedded. Tucked into the snow duvet. I returned from the kitchen, carefully putting my cup filled with hot chocolate on the table before sitting down once again in the couch next to my grandma.

"Mischa," my grandma smiled warmly, reaching up to pinch my cheek but opting for patting it roughly instead.

I took her paper silk hand in mine. Maybe I was too old by now to be holding my grandmother's hand but whatever. The only witnesses were mom and my grandfather sitting across from me. Julie too of course, except she was sitting on the floor, too occupied with her new phone to notice if so the house gave into the snow and collapsed around her. A low-key Christmas gathering. My cousins with my uncle's relatives. Tim over in California with his grown up daughter. Not that I wanted him here. So. Just the five of us.

The table filled with treats and lit candles and discarded truffle wrappings. Equally discarded wrapping paper on the floor. A big branch leaning in over the scene. A quirky Christmas tree, filled with twisted together notes like butterflies. Wishes for the new year my mom had collected from us, colleagues and friends. A couple of tasteful antique ornaments hanging of the twigs as well. And two hideously sparkly new ones. Gifts from Trish. A pink candy cane and a smirking star with a Santa Claus hat. I suppressed a chuckle watching them spinning around, aggressively twinkling, feeling all warm inside. And not just from the cup's contents. Filled with gratitude. It was weeks since Thanksgiving and now I'd caught up. Now I was thankful. For the first time in how long. Grateful to be able to feel again, without feeling the anxiety dragging me down. Grateful to feel what everybody else probably was feeling during moments like these. Happiness. Joy. Peace of mind. Grateful to be able to feel grateful.

"You happy with your presents?" My grandma asked, and I nodded, looking over to my pile on the floor. Wasn't a very big one. A gift certificate. A new sweater. And the piece the resistance or whatever, a computer. A laptop one. It was used, one of the laptops borrowed by students of mom's art classes or families without means. Worn but not worn-out. Sturdy and reliable in my hands. And it would be resting on my desk most of the time anyway. 'So you don't have to share anymore', my mom had said beaming, probably more proud of herself for letting it into the house than anything else. I was more baffled. Apprehensive. Now that I'd gotten one, I wasn't sure it would do me any good. Maybe I'd end up like Trish and Kat, getting stuck in front of Youtube for hours watching kittens riding skateboards. Or googling the most rare and horrible diseases. Never google diseases. I silently promised myself. Never.

"You happy with your gifts, babu?" My grandma smacked her lips, poking at the crime novel in front of her.

"It's not the one I wanted. Told Elena, the new one. Maybe it was sold out." She sighed, but smiled soon again, pinching my cheek. "You extra handsome tonight," she stated in a typical leaving-out-the-verb Russian way. "All girls chasing after you, yes?" I made a face and she chuckled. There was nothing extra handsome about me for the night. I did smile more though. I had noticed. It was easier, in the way I couldn't remember why it used to feel difficult. And I did have a nice smile, I knew that. But appearance wise? I was wearing my best black jeans and Allen's gray sweater, and had tried to comb through the waves forming in the nape of my neck. If anything, I looked sorta plain. And pale as I got in the middle of winter, especially not having been too keen on basking in the sunlight the last summers. But this spring it would be different.