“We need sprinkles!” Max says.
I survey the counter filled with flour, sugar, butter, and two packs of icing. I’d bought the cheapest brands the store had in order to save money, but the Christmas sprinkles were crazy expensive so I’d left them out of my cart. I hoped Max wouldn’t care, but clearly I was wrong.
“Let me see if we have some in the pantry.”
I stand up on my toes and check the top shelf, where we keep the spices, cupcake wrappers, and other random kitchen items. My hand closes over a container of Christmas sprinkles—half empty—and all these memories of last year come back to me suddenly. It feels like Santa’s sleigh just fell on me, crushing any happiness I had just a moment ago.
We bought these sprinkles last Christmas. Last Christmas was the first time we broke tradition, because it wasn’t just the three of us making the cookies.
Ricky was here. Mom had invited him. We’d been dating for eight months and I was stupidly in love the way a high school sophomore can get when a cute boy asks her out. Now that I’m a junior, I know better than to make that mistake again.
Mom had made the dough and I rolled it out and Max and Ricky cut out the shapes with Grandma’s old cookie cutters. Ricky decorated two gingerbread-shaped cookies to look like us. Mine had long blue hair because Max was using the red icing, and Ricky’s cookie was wearing a poorly drawn basketball jersey made of icing and fruit roll-ups.
Last Christmas was fun. Mom still had her job and money wasn’t a constant strain or awkward topic. We had cable TV and pizza Fridays and I had Ricky.
Now the only thing left of last Christmas is this half-empty jar of sprinkles.
I set them on the counter and Max claps, delighted that I found them. But now I’m not really in the mood to make cookies. I guess I understand why Mom decided to sit this one out. While Max and I were in school today, she cleaned out apartments that were recently vacated. She had to scrub and wash and crawl through every single inch of the space to make it absolutely spotless for our landlord who wants everything perfect for the new tenants.
Then, she comes home and spends all afternoon trying to find a job using the free Wi-Fi at the apartment’s clubhouse because we had to cancel the internet bill too. Mom lost a lot over the past year. I lost Ricky when he broke up with me and then started dating another girl on the track team.
Now I have to see them in the hallways at school, walking the same halls we used to walk, holding hands the same way we used to, sitting at the same lunch table that no longer welcomes me.
Suddenly, I don’t mind that the Christmas music on my phone sounds like crap. A quality sound system would only be a lie. This year sucked, and this holiday will suck.
“Are we making the cookies or not?” Max says, putting a defiant little hand on his hip. Unlike me, he didn’t inherit Mom’s coppery hair. His is dark brown, the same color as Dad’s, and it sticks out in all directions no matter how much you try to brush it or hold it down with hair products. Max is lucky because he’s still a little kid that thinks the world is okay. He doesn’t know about job loss or breakups, only coloring books, recess, and sugar cookies.
If Mom can’t pull herself together enough to keep up the family tradition, I guess I’ll have to.
I smile and reach for the measuring cups and the bag of flour. “Mom isn’t feeling well so it’s just going to be me and you tonight.”
Max shrugs. “That’s fine. I just want my sprinkles because I have a good idea for decorating my cookies.”
Oh, how lucky he is to be so blissfully happy.
I know the sugar cookie recipe by heart, so I start measuring out ingredients and mixing them into a bowl. Max starts singing along to Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer, and I sing along too, putting on a fake smile every time he looks over at me.
Even if all of the Christmas spirit has been sucked out of my life by broken hearts and bad times, I smile anyway. I do it for my little brother, because he’s the only person in this family who still believes in holiday magic. Maybe that’s the most I can hope for right now.
Chapter Two
Last night was the worst. Mom broke down and cried in front of me. I’ve never seen her cry before—not even when she and Dad got divorced. I mean sure, she’s gotten teary eyed at a sad part in a move, but that is not even close to being the same. After Max had gone to bed, Mom came into my room and told me there would be no Christmas this year. I already knew that money was tight, and I wasn’t expecting any gifts—I mean, we don’t even have a Christmas tree. But apparently my mom still clung to some hope that she’d find a way to buy gifts, and it wasn’t until last night that she lost all of that hope.
I didn’t know the full details of our precarious financial situation until last night. Mom told me that she’s sold off all of her jewelry, antiques, and anything of value that she had just to keep the bills paid. While rent is covered as long as she cleans apartments, we still have groceries, the light bill, the cell phone bill, and stuff to pay for. Mom’s credit cards are maxed out and there’s still no hope in sight that she’ll get a job any time soon. She used to search for admin assistant jobs to replace her old job, but now she can’t even get a call back from a fast food restaurant.
I knew things were as bad as they could get when she told me that she had reached out to Dad. Their divorce was quick and simple. Dad found a new woman he liked better than Mom, and he let her keep everything, which wasn’t much since we had recently sold our house and moved into an apartment so that Dad could fund his new business venture.
Spoiler alert – the new business failed. Now he lives with his girlfriend and he never calls us or offers to visit Max. When Mom was crying on my bed last night, she told me that Dad had apologized for not sending in any child support money and said that he was also out of work and had nothing left to give. So that’s it, my mom said – Christmas is cancelled.
Well there are still two weeks left until Christmas, and I refuse to believe that.
I lean back in my chair in English class and look up my town’s local Facebook page on my phone. The best part about being in school now is the free Wi-Fi. Now that we don’t have internet at home, I soak it up all that I can in class. There’s a jobs page on here where people post odd jobs they need to be done. I scroll through it looking for something I can do to earn some money, but it’s all stuff that’s out of my skillset. I could totally mow someone’s lawn, but the people who are posting those jobs want you to bring your own mower.
After finding no good jobs to do, I decided to make my own post. I offer to do babysitting, laundry, or any odd job that someone wants to be done. It feels weird putting myself out here like this, but maybe someone will hire me and then I can buy Max some gifts and my mom will smile again. I smile to myself as I think about it – saving Christmas. How cool would that be?
A shadow falls over my desk. “Are you finished, or should I wait longer?”
I look up and see my English teacher, Mrs. Castell, glaring at me. Uh oh. I swallow and put my phone down. “I’m finished.”
