Christmas past to present!

1 Packing

"I already told you no. You heard the judge decree every other holiday. you had Thanksgiving now. I get Christmas." I rant  not for the first time.

"Come on, Holly, be reasonable. At least give me Christmas Eve; Mama really wants to see them."

"And what about my parents? We spent the last 4 years with your mother because you couldn't travel and now it's their turn. We will be leaving tomorrow, the 21st, and won't be returning until the 29th. You can pick them up the next morning for New Year's Eve weekend." I inform him

"What that's bullshit! It isn't Christmas without at least seeing my kids." I take a breath deep down I felt for him. Truly, I did getting through Thanksgiving had been difficult, but there was nothing I could do about it this year as we already had flights booked and plans made.

"You think I want it this way? I didn't choose this. That was you." He goes quiet. I know he feels guilty, and he should; at least a little.

"You know this isn't what I wanted." He says seriously solemnly, and I sigh.

"I know. I know you hadn't meant for it to be this way, but here we are. We just have to figure out how to parent them together. Part of that is alternating holidays." He's the one to sigh now.

"So New Year's?"

"New Year's." I confirm picking up Claire's Christmas dress and folding it into the suitcase. The line is quiet for a moment, and I think he has hung up until he breathes out a long breath.

"You know I'll always love you, Holly."

"I know. You just weren't in love with me anymore." He breathes out again. "Have a Merry Christmas, Dylan; don't be afraid to call."

"You as well; tell the kids I love them."

"I will."

"Merry Christmas, Holl."

"Bye."

"Bye." And I hang up the call.

"Mommy!" Claire says in tears, running into my room

"What is it?" I ask, scooping my daughter into my arms.

"Daniel broke my hair." She whines

"No, I didn't." He yells, running down the hall to defend himself.

"Well then, what happened to make her think you did?" I ask

Daniel was only five and fairly easygoing as far as boys his age go. Claire, on the other hand, only three and definitely way more wild spirited than her brother.

I had married their dad Dylan at age 20, and just this June, he had started talking to other women. I came across his phone one day and found a text from some woman named Trish. When I asked him about it, he spilled, and everything came to light.

He hadn't exactly cheated yet and really didn't want to become 'that guy'.
He moved out two days later and the divorce decree in June. 6 months ago as of the 18th.

"I only stepped on it. She was one laying on the floor." He defends.

"Okay okay well it sounds like it was an accident Claire why were you lying on the ground?"

"We was playing we camping."

"We heard noises, so I got up to check what it was and stepped on her hair."

"All right, all right, you two. Everything is alright. Dani, next time, make sure to watch where you step when you play. Claire, you know your brother didn't mean to maybe next time tuck your hair under your head just in case."

"Okay." Daniel agrees, and Claire nods her head as well. "You're packing us now?" My son excites

"I am."

"Grandma's house!" Claire claps delightedly, followed by lots of excited chanting.

Later that night, after putting my children to sleep, I opened the bottle of wine and finished up the packing. I was excited to be home for the holiday. I hadn't been back there since long before Claire, and I think Daniel was only a few months old. we'd only stayed for 2 days before Dylan had been called back for an important meeting.

I wouldn't call home a small town necessarily, but the community there was great. Laying in bed, I think, back to growing up there. The tire swing Mr Lancet hung from his large oak tree, night games at the Smith house down the road, and playing by the river with Keaton Brown.

Wow, Keaton Brown. I hadn't thought about him in years. Not by choice anyway. Not that I could forget him by any means. Does anybody really forget their first love? Shaking my head, I think about something else. About the trip out and seeing my mother and father. I never liked remembering him that way. It hurt too much, and what was the point in hurting if it was all in the past?