Whispers In The Dark

Jessiah

Jessiah

Christmas was the same as every other year. We went to my aunt’s house on Christmas Eve to exchange gifts and have dinner with my dad’s side of the family. We stayed home on Christmas Day and members from my mom’s side of the family came over for an early dinner and more gifts. I kept my mouth shut about Santa Claus being fictional.

I felt guilty about not delving into conversations with my family or spending genuine time with them. I pushed the guilt away to the back of my mind, though, and instead spent my time texting Anna under the dining room table.

Merry Christmas :), I sent.

She replied immediately. Merry Christmas! I miss you!

I did my best to stifle the smile that pulled at my lips. I miss you too.

How’s your day been going?

Family, presents, the same as every year. Yours?

My mom’s working, but she left gifts on the kitchen counter with a note. I guess I’ll give her hers tonight.

I frowned, my hands hovering over the keypad. Looking to my mom, and then back to my phone, I hastily typed: Do you want to come over?

It’s fine. I’ll see her sometime tonight.

I bit my lip. Please? We can do gifts early rather than wait for New Year’s. And I need someone to laugh with when my grandma gets falling-down-drunk.

Her response took longer than before. Okay.

I’ll pick you up.

I told my mom that I would be right back. She nodded, engrossed in a deep conversation with my dad and uncle. I grabbed my jacket from the pile of winter clothing behind the door, feeling around in my pocket for my keys. My shoulders relaxed when I felt both my keys and a lighter.

I did my best to remember how to get to her house from mine, but after five minutes of driving around aimlessly, I had her send me directions.

She was sitting on her doorstep when I pulled up. She stood, hugged her coat tighter around herself, and hurried to the passenger side of the car. When she was seated, I noticed a box in her lap, the size of a Chuck Taylors box and wrapped in green and red decorative paper, topped with a gold bow.

Anna looked over at me and smiled. I smiled back, kissing her lips longingly before directing my attention back to the road.

“Why does your mom have to work on Christmas?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t prying too much.

She didn’t seem fazed. “She’s works with behavioral profiling in crimes. She has to be at the office a lot, and sometimes she goes away.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “How often do you get to see her?”

“Usually in the mornings, before I go to school. Sometimes she’ll be sleeping at her desk or drinking coffee. Sometimes I even get to see her at night, it all depends on when she gets off.” She spoke nonchalantly, like the idea of seeing her mother on a regular basis was alien.

“What about your dad?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I’d said the wrong thing.

She froze, her shoulders stiff and her muscles rigid. “He, uh, died when I was eleven.”

I slapped myself internally. My hands tightened around the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, I…”

Her lips curled into something that resembled a smile. “It’s fine. It’s been six years. I’m okay.” But I could tell that she wasn’t.

The rest of the ride was tense. Thankfully, my house wasn’t too far away, and we were there in under ten minutes. When we walked through the door, however, I realized that I had failed to tell my family that I was bringing Anna back.

I shut the door softly behind us, but somehow my mom’s hawk-ears picked up the noise and she materialized in the doorway.

Her eyes flickered between Anna and I. “Jessiah, care to explain?”