1
Beau
Carolers!
Beau let his knitting needles fall from his fingers, the half-finished scarf pooling on the floor as he rushed to the window of his living room. He pushed the fluffy white curtains aside and peeked through the stenciled designs of a Christmas village on his glass. He pressed his nose close to one of the little trees done in fake snow spray and found a group of cutely dressed adults and children standing in front of his neighbor’s door.
They were holding red and green binders in front of them, glancing at them every once in a while as they sang the festive songs.
Beau found himself swaying to the cheerful rhythm, pressing himself closer to the window to check if all of his lights and decorations were on and glowing brightly. He didn’t want them thinking he wasn’t home.
It all seemed to be in order.
The string of colorful lights trimming his house was twinkling merrily, the two large reindeer and a snowman were lit on his snow-covered lawn, and there were colorful presents scattered through the snow everywhere. The few evergreen bushes he had were all wrapped in lights as well and covered with large, colorful baubles.
He knew he’d probably gone a little overboard, but he had always loved Christmas. He’d always longed to go all out for it, he’d just never had the chance to indulge before. When he was a child, his parents had preferred to spend money on their various vices rather than the holidays. Then when they finally decided they didn’t really want him around, he was shuffled from foster home to foster home where money was stretched even thinner.
After that he was homeless, so there was nothing and nowhere to decorate. And there wasn’t ever anyone to decorate with. He was always alone. At his lowest, he’d wrapped up a small gift for himself and left it under a potted plant he’d draped in some tinsel he’d found thrown away.
This year, after years of saving and struggling and working whatever and however many jobs he could find, he had his tiny little house. In a tiny little town. Surrounded by other tiny little houses.
He’d gotten all the lights and all the decorations and all the brand-new tinsel he could afford. He even had a tree. Although his old plant was still decorated too. For old times’ sake.
So maybe he’d gone a bit crazy and spent the last of his savings on making one of his dreams come true.
And maybe, just maybe, a part of him had done it to see if it would make someone want to be his friend.
He had hope. The holidays were the time for miracles, right? That was what all his books and all the fairy tales he liked so much led him to think.
He just had to believe.
So he listened to the carolers singing, nose plastered to his window, waiting. Patient. Excited.
The song ended.
He felt himself tense as he waited for an appropriate time to go to his door and open it to listen to the group sing him a carol.
The carolers moved down the street. Away from his neighbors’ and toward his house. They reached his white fence. Paused to look at his decorations. He saw them comment something and he wished he knew what they were saying. If they liked them or appreciated the effort he had put into them.
They moved again.
Toward the entrance and the cute cobblestone pathway leading to his front door.
And then past it, down the pathway to the door of his neighbor on the other side.
Beau stared through the window, feeling his heart beating so loudly he feared it jumping out of his chest. He put his palms up on the glass, messing up the pretty designs he had spent so long perfecting.
They hadn’t come to sing for him.
They hadn’t even looked at his door.
They’d just skipped him. Overlooked him like he wasn’t even there.
Like everyone else in his entire life had done.
Everyone else would get a smile and a pretty song that evening. They’d join together in spirit and community. Everyone but Beau.
He pushed himself away from the window, hands shaking and palms covered in fake snow. He wiped them on his homemade sweater before using the backs of them to smear the tears on his cheeks.
