The Multitudes Within Me (Sequel to The Sound of Ice)

28

On Christmas Eve, I get a letter from Willem. His handwriting is small and neat, the black pen bleeding through the notebook paper. Max has scribbled in the margins, a splotch of yellow that might be a sun, a mix of blues and greens.

Merry Christmas! Willem writes. I asked Santa for more books. The hospital is all decorated with trees and candy canes, you should see it. We miss you! What did you ask Santa for Christmas?

I read the letter curled up on the Beckett's plaid couch. Wind howls against the windowpane, and icy snow whirls from a grey sky. The fireplace is crackling, hot flames curling over the logs, stockings dangling from the mantel. The atmosphere is very cabin-esque, very cozy, very Christmas-y, but darker than last year. The house is dim.

"A letter?" Cameron flops on the sofa beside me, one legged tucked under the other, scrolling through his phone.

"Yeah, from Willem. Did I tell you about him? A kid at the hospital where I volunteered."

He glances up and smiles. "That's nice."

"I think I'll write him back now. Is it okay if I borrow a pen?"

He bites his tongue - like he was about to say something, or make a joke, and caught himself. Does he think I'm more fragile than I used to be? Maybe I am. I wonder if he's thinking of last year, last Christmas Eve.

"Of course," he says, and goes into the kitchen grab one.

I write Willem and Max back on Ms. Beckett's floral stationery paper. Merry Christmas! Let me know what Santa brings you. I hope you get lots and lots of books. I've been so busy lately I forgot to ask Santa for anything, isn't that crazy? I'd like a pair of socks in my stocking, but we'll have to see. I miss you both very much.

And though I do miss them both very much, and would do anything to see them again, the thought of returning to school makes me dizzy.

I throw on Cameron's coat and stick the letter in the mailbox, keeping my head down against the storm. Down the street, dozens of colorful lights blink happily at me. It's not in time with the wind - it howls in and out of my ear while the lights blink unknowingly, messing up the tempo.

~

By the time Tom and I wake up Christmas morning, the storm has stopped. There's a couple feet of snow on the ground, glistening under an overcast sky. We walk down the street and he grips my arm for support, his face tired, a smile on his face.

"Merry Christmas!" shouts Hailey as Ms. Beckett ushers us inside. She throws herself into my arms as Tom settles onto the armchair. She's wearing a new set of snowflake-patterned pajamas, and the house smells like pancakes and bacon. Holiday music is playing on the radio and shiny gifts twinkle from under the tree.

Cameron shuffles into the living room, a mug of coffee in his hand. He smiles, warm green eyes flickering to mine.

"Merry Christmas, Sam," he says.

I got Cameron a new pair of Vans sneakers, a nice shade of maroon, because I remember him talking about wanting them a while ago. It's a small gift, nothing special, but when he unwraps them he beams up at me genuinely.

"Sam!"

"Cameron."

"You remembered!"

I smile and shrug. I remember everything he says. I love him so much it hurts.

Everyone adores their gifts, of course. Ms. Beckett nearly starts crying when she sees the necklace Cameron got her, and suffocates him with kisses. I get a book from Tom. From Hailey, Veronica, and Ms. Beckett I get a new sweatshirt. In my stockings, there are a pair of socks.