Wicked Snow

Christmas with the Fields

I would be getting married in three days, but I tried not to think about that rather important piece of information as I sat in Sarah’s living room on Christmas day. Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Fields, had been kind enough to invite me into their home, which I still couldn’t believe they had done. I could think of very few, if any families that would open up their home to someone who was little more than an acquaintance, but they had welcomed me with more warmth and kindness than I knew what to do with.

The family’s easygoing and amusing banter had kept me from sinking back into my depression. A part of me felt guilty for enjoying my time with them, but I knew my mom wouldn’t have wanted me to spend the holiday alone in my hotel room. Besides, it was impossible to be sad around Sarah’s family because they were just that funny and sweet. My eyes were still a bit dry and red from the crying I had done that morning while I watched ‘White Christmas’– my mom’s favorite Christmas movie– but somehow Sarah and her parents had drawn me out of my gloomy mood.

“If you witness a robbery at an apple store, does that make you an… i-witness?” Sarah’s father asked, making yet another hilariously terrible dad joke.

I couldn’t help but laugh even when Sarah and her mom just rolled their eyes at him. He had been telling jokes like that all through lunch, and it had succeeded in lifting my mood. Sarah and Mrs. Fields hadn't laughed at a single one of his jokes, but he kept telling them anyway.

“Speaking of phone stores,” I started with a grin. “What do you call security guards at a Samsung store?” I asked. When they all shrugged, not knowing the answer, I told them, “The Guardians of the Galaxy.”

This time, Sarah and her mom joined in the laughter, which made Mr. Fields narrow his eyes at them in annoyance. “Oh, so that you’ll laugh at?” he asked in outrage. “My family are all traitors,” he said and dramatically crossed his arms.

His actions only made the rest of us laugh harder, but his brooding glare turned into a reluctant smile as he gazed adoringly at his family. He was probably the coolest dad I’d ever met. Sarah got her blonde hair from him, but her blue eyes and tall model-like frame was all from her mom, and it seemed like she hadn't gotten her sense of humor from her dad either.

“Merry Christmas, Grace,” Sarah said cheerfully when our laughter had died down, handing me a perfectly wrapped gift.

I opened the long rectangular shaped present, careful not to tear the beautiful wrapping paper. It was the way my mom and I had always opened our gifts, and it was a habit I had kept. We made it a game to see who could unwrap all their presents without tearing any of the paper, but my mom had always won. I always got impatient after the third gift and just tore into the rest. When I got older, I realized that my mom had probably created the game to distract me from the fact that my father had never gotten me a gift.

He worked through the holiday and didn’t even make an effort to celebrate with us, so it was always just me and my mom. Once, she pretended that one of the gifts was from him. Later that night, I disturbed him while he was working to thank him for the present. I gave him a hand-made Christmas card, hoping he would like it as much as I liked my new Barbie. He only scoffed, told me he didn’t get me anything and shouted at me to get out of his office. The worst part though, was that I saw him throw the card in the trash before I closed the door behind me. I had cried myself to sleep that night and Christmas had never been quite the same after that.

I pulled myself out of those sad memories and brought myself back to the Fields’ living room, where Sarah was anxiously waiting for me to open the jewelry box I had unwrapped.

“This is beautiful,” I enthused when I saw the necklace she had gotten me. It was a gold circular shaped locket, with a small red garnet gemstone in the middle. The locket was bigger than a coin, but it was thin, so it wasn’t clunky. It was understated and simple, exactly my style and something I would wear.

There were no pictures inside of it, but when I opened it Sarah said, “I thought you could put a picture of you and your mom in it.”

“It’s perfect,” I said sincerely, giving her a watery smile. Sarah had proved yet again that she was just about the sweetest person on the planet. “I have something for you as well,” I said sheepishly, knowing what I had bought her wasn’t half as nice as the locket.

“Oooh, thank you,” she cheered as she tore into her gift enthusiastically. She gaped down at the book I had given her and asked, “Is this what I think it is?”

“It’s stupid, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I should have gotten you something better,” I apologized, feeling embarrassed about the gift I had bought her. It was the illustrated version of the first Harry Potter book, which I was hoping was new enough that she didn’t have it already.

“How did you know I like Harry Potter?” she asked, looking up with a surprisingly large grin.

“Well I’ve seen you wearing that Gryffindor scarf at college, so I just assumed,” I explained.

“This is amazing,” she practically screamed and pulled me in for a hug. “Thank you,” she said when the hug ended.

“It’s the least I could do,” I said. She had been such a wonderful friend to me in that past week, even when she had no reason to be.

“You realize you’re my new favorite person now, right?” Sarah chirped happily, holding the book to her chest like a baby.

“If I knew we would get that reaction, we would have bought you a book instead of a new iPhone,” Mrs. Fields joked good-naturedly.

“Don’t be a bad sport mom,” Sarah said with a laugh. “You can always do better next year,” she added with a cheeky wink.

“You’re a spoiled brat,” Mr. Fields scolded her, but his voice held only amusement.

“Yes, but I’m your spoiled brat,” Sarah said with a mischievous grin.

I smiled at their banter, so jealous of Sarah’s relationship with her dad, but happy that my friend had people who loved her so much. The sweet moment was interrupted though when I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket. I pulled it out to see it was my father calling. It was the first time he had called me on Christmas, so with furrowed eyebrows I left the room with an apology and answered my phone.

“Hello?” I asked with curiosity.

“You need to come to the penthouse in two hours,” he said without preamble. “Kingsley will be coming as well, so it will be good publicity.”

“And you didn’t think to ask me or tell me about it sooner?” I asked in irritation.

“I thought I would be working, but my schedule cleared up,” he bit out impatiently.

“And we all serve to just go along with what you want, right?” I asked drily, annoyed that he had ruined the one day I thought I would be free of him.

“Yes,” he said bluntly, as if he didn’t realize he was agreeing that he was selfish and inconsiderate. “If you aren’t here for dinner, I’ll take it to mean the wedding is off and you don’t want to go to your useless art school anymore,” he warned me.

Instead of confirming I would be there, I hung up the phone. It was a show of disrespect, and as such I knew it would irritate him more than anything I could say. I sighed deeply, considering what would happen if I didn’t go to the dinner. I wondered if he would actually follow through on his threat, but ultimately, I knew that I couldn’t risk it. If I wanted to go to art school, I had to go to the dinner, and really, it would be a small price to pay for my dream. If I was willing to marry Kingsley, then a Christmas dinner shouldn’t be such a big deal.

With a single phone call, my father had the ability to bring back the gloomy cloud that had seemed to permanently hover over me after my mom’s death. Resigned to the fact that I would have to spend time with my narcissistic father and critical fiancé, I headed back into the living room to say my goodbyes to the Fields. They were all happily chatting away and with the Christmas tree in the background, they looked straight out of a Hallmark movie.

“Everything okay, Grace?” Mrs. Fields asked when she saw I had come back into the room.

“Umm sort of. My dad freed up his schedule and he invited me to have Christmas dinner with him,” I told them.

“Well that’s great honey,” Mrs. Fields said happily, unaware that my father was the last person I wanted to see on Christmas. “I’m glad he made a plan to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could fake.

Sarah sent me a concerned look. She knew how I felt about my father, so she understood that I wouldn’t be going there willingly. I thanked the Fields for having me over and they both surprised me by giving me big hugs.

“Don’t be a stranger, Grace,” Mrs. Fields said as Sarah walked me to their front door.

“I won’t,” I promised honestly.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked me quietly as I put my coat on. “Is everything okay?”

“My father decided that Kingsley and I need to be seen going there for Christmas dinner,” I scoffed.

“Would it have killed him to give you more warning?” she asked in shock.

“It’s all just one big act and I don’t even have a script,” I muttered.

“Grace,” she sighed. “Don’t you maybe think this whole thing is a bit much? Is art school really worth all of this?” she asked.

“I know it seems like there are other options, but art school isn’t just my dream. Ever since I can remember, my mom and I talked about me going to art school. She and I would spend hours talking about different colleges and she was just as excited as I was when I got into Yale. She was my biggest supporter,” I explained with a nostalgic smile. “We planned it all out together and now that’s she gone, it’s like it’s all I have left of her.”

“When you explain it like that, it makes sense,” Sarah said with a sad smile. “Just please be careful, Grace. Your father seems like someone who will do anything to get what he wants.”

“Trust me, I know,” I replied. If there was anyone who knew what my father was capable of, it was me. “I’ll be okay,” I assured her, hoping that it wasn’t a lie.

“Call me later, won’t you? I don’t want your father to be the last person you speak to on Christmas,” Sarah told me, making me smile at her thoughtfulness.

“Absolutely,” I promised her. “Thank you for everything Sarah. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” I pulled her in for a long hug, wishing I could explain to her just how much she had come to mean to me in only a week.

“I just hope you know that I’m always here for you,” she said squeezing me tightly before the hug ended. “I know it’s hard for you to let people in,” she acknowledged, surprising me with her spot-on assessment. “But I’m glad you decided to let me in,” she added with a small smile.

“You made it easy,” I told her with a chuckle. “I have a hard time trusting people, but I know I can count on you,” I said with complete confidence.

"Good," she said with a pleased smile. "Now go give your father and that pesky fiancé of yours hell," she encouraged me.

"Don't worry, I will," I promised her as I opened the door to their apartment. "My father can coerce me into going, but he can't make me behave while I'm there," I told her.

She chuckled and ruined the effect of my words by saying, "You may seem reserved and a bit frosty at first Grace, but you don't have a mean bone in your body. I just can't imagine you giving anyone hell."

I pouted at her, not sure if I should take offense or not. "Clearly you don't know my father or Kingsley. They could make a saint cuss," I told her.

"Well in that case, go get 'em tiger!" she egged me on.

I left the building still smiling at her last words, and headed to the subway station a few blocks down. A week ago I felt like all I had left was art school, but now I knew I had Sarah as well. Having her as a friend made the future seem far less dark. My father and Kingsley could threaten to take away my dream, but I somehow knew that I would always have Sarah.