“What do you mean why?”
“Why do we have to get out of our pajamas?” he asked.
“Because it’s daytime?” I replied, wondering why I was pointing out the obvious.
“Yeah so? It’s Christmas Day which means everything is closed. There’s a blizzard out there, so we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. There’s no power, so we’re basically going to spend the day hanging out in here, trying to stay warm.”
The man had a point.
Chris folded his arms across his chest and my sense of reason flew out the window.
“You make a good point,” I acknowledged.
“Of course I do.”
“And you’re staying in your pajamas all day?” I asked. If I was staying in my sweats, then he better be staying in his.
“Absolutely. Although I can’t remember the last time I’d done it.”
Noelle tugged on Chris’s hand. “Come on Chris. I’m starving,” she whined dramatically.
“Noelle,” I chided, shooting her a look. One she recognized instantly and dropped her hold on him.
“Sorry, Mom,” she murmured under her breath, staring at her shoes.
“Come on. We’ll head upstairs and have a shower then we’lllook into breakfast,” I offered, reaching my own hand out for her, waiting for her to take it.
Leaving Chris stoking the fire, I led Noelle up the icy stairs slowly. This holiday had already been a cluster fuck, wasting hours in the hospital wasn’t at the top of my to-do list for the day.
I managed to get Noelle in the shower while I found a clean pair of sweats. I know we said we’d stay in our pajamas, but warm sweats were enough of a compromise. Noelle was singing, possibly the worst rendition of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer I’d ever heard, but she was taking this like a champ. I was waiting for the tantrum and tears about not being able to go skiing or drink hot chocolate or build a snowman like my father had promised, but so far, they hadn’t come. She’d gone with the flow and all I could do was hold my breath and hope it stayed that way.
Grabbing a towel, I walked into the bathroom and helped her out, bundling her up against the cold.
“Mom, I’m cold,” she told me as her teeth chattered.
“Let’s get you dressed, and you’ll be fine,” I assured her, leading her back into Chris's bedroom and picking up the pile of clothes from the bed.
A few minutes later, Noelle was dressed and chatting away happily. While she talked a million miles an hour, I cleaned my teeth and washed my face.
“Are you having a shower, Mom?”
“In a minute,” I told her as I dug through my bag looking for the ibuprofen I thought I’d tossed in. I had a headache, and I couldn’t tell if it was from stress, dehydration, or lack of sleep. More than likely a combination of all three, if I was being honest.
Finding the packet, I popped two out onto my hand and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
“Mom?”
“Yes, sweetie,” I replied, swallowing down the pills and turning to find Noelle standing in the living room staring out the window.
The snow was still coming down hard. Everything, as far as your eye could see, was covered in a thick layer of snow. The cars on the street were buried, and the tree branches drooped under the weight.
“Why does Chris hate Christmas?”
Noelle’s question shocked me. I took another sip of my drink before rinsing the glass and sitting it on the sink. I was stalling. Trying to find the words.
I walked over and sat on the couch, beckoning Noelle to sit beside me. “I don’t think he hates Christmas, Noelle,” I began.
“Then why didn’t he have a tree?”
