What She Left Behind ✔️

chapter six

It's Christmas morning, except I don't feel very Christmassy at all.

As I drive to my parent's house with Joshua Grey's "Sanctified" blasting through the aux instead of a holiday tune, I resist the urge to turn around, go back home, and crawl into bed. Christmas without Raelyn feels wrong. How can we celebrate while she's sitting in an urn in my parent's bedroom?

"You're not celebrating in spite of her. You're celebrating because of her," Levi said to me this morning. He was already set up for his holiday festivities: a bowl of sugary cereal, a bottle of Grey Goose, and a stack of DVDs. He hasn't spoken to his parents since he was eighteen and prefers to spend Christmas alone. "Bring me some pie home, will you?"

"Or you could just come with me," I replied.

"No way, dude. I've already had three shots. I don't want to embarrass myself."

"Levi, it's, like, ten a.m."

"Yep. Merry Christmas!"

So now I'm going to celebrate Jesus' birthday without Raelyn or my right-hand man. After today, I'll need a few shots myself.

Benson and I arrive at the same time. I can't help but notice that my Nissan, which-and I don't mean to brag-is in perfect condition, looks like something from a junkyard compared to his sleek Mercedes-Benz. He must be making bank at Lionspace.

"Hey, little sis!" He gets out of his luxury car and envelops me in a hug. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas." I don't share his enthusiasm. This holiday—or any holiday, for that matter—will never be the same.

"Need help carrying anything inside?" he asks.

"No thanks. My bag of presents isn't nearly as big as yours."

"I'm sure it's fine. What did you get Mom and Dad?"

"An Applebee's gift card. You?"

"Plane tickets to Bermuda," he answers. It's obvious he's trying not to sound boastful. "But now that they've got Evangeline, who knows when they'll be able to make the trip?"

I grab my stuff out of my backseat. I got gift cards for everyone this year—everyone except Evangeline, anyway. For her, I selected an old photo of Raelyn that I took when we were in high school and framed it. Evangeline said she wanted to see her mom again for Christmas. This was the best I could do.

Benson follows me inside. I place my gifts under the tree and join Mom, Dad, Bowie, and Evangeline in the kitchen. Mom is beautiful in a simple red sweater dress, Dad looks like a goof in his "Meowy Catmas" sweater, and Bowie, as always, is adorned in jeans and a t-shirt.

Evangeline, however, looks like a literal angel, similar to the one on top of the tree. Her dress is off-white with gold flecks in the fabric. Over it, she wears a deep green sweater that brings out her emerald eyes. Her hair has been pulled back into a French braid that goes halfway down her back. She's always been a pretty girl, but today she is stunning.

"Gemma! Merry Christmas!" my mom exclaims as she pulls me into a hug. My favorite thing about her is that she always greets me like she hasn't seen me in a year, even if it's only been several days.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" I pour myself a glass of eggnog and take a seat next to my dad, who's typing away on his computer. "You're working on Christmas, Dad?"

"Duncan asked me to start sorting out his reelection material," he replies, not looking up from his laptop. "You know how your uncle is. He says Merry Christmas to all of you, by the way."

My mom glares at him. "Close the computer, honey. All of our children are here. It's time to celebrate."

He lets out a theatrical sigh. "As you wish, dear."

The Christmas revelries go as they usually do. First, we enjoy eggnog and cheese and crackers in the kitchen. Then Mom makes us a fabulous lunch of honey-glazed ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole, with chocolate crème and apple pie for dessert. Lastly, when our bellies are full, we migrate to the front room and exchange gifts.

As I sit in front of the tree with one hand over my bloated stomach, I watch Evangeline. She didn't eat very much. She didn't say very much, either. According to my parents, she's barely spoken since the last time I was here. The only person she opens up to is Bowie, which is odd because he is the most private of us all.

Dad leans down and starts passing out presents. My parents appear to be happy with their Applebee's gift card—not as happy as they do with Benson's extravagant gift, but happy, nonetheless. Bowie had the same idea and bought everyone Visa gift cards, so I don't feel as bad. Evangeline, who received more presents than anyone, seems like she's trying really hard to act excited, except she's failing miserably. I don't fault her for feeling down. This is her first Christmas without her mom. If I'm unhappy, she must be downright despondent.

The last present she opens is mine. As she rips through my mediocre wrapping job, I see her eyes fill with tears.

"Oh, I didn't mean to make you upset," I say, suddenly regretting my choice of gift. "I just... well, you said you wanted to see your mom, you know?"

She nods her head, hugs the picture to her chest, and says though a broken sob, "I love it. She looks so beautiful. I just miss her a lot."

"I miss her, too." I move forward and, without thinking, wrap my arm around her bony shoulders. This is the first time I've held her since she was an infant. "I took that photo when she was fifteen. Notice how she's smiling with her teeth?"

"She didn't like her smile," Evangeline whispers, running her fingers over her mother's mouth. "I'm gonna keep this forever." She looks up at me and flashes a toothy smile of her own. "Thank you, Gemma."

Benson scoots closer and stares at the photo. "Wow, she really was gorgeous."

"I'm going to get some more pie," Bowie announces, leaping to his feet and exiting the front room.

"Don't eat all of it! I promised I'd bring some home to Levi!" I holler.

My parents begin to clean up the discarded wrapping paper, while Evangeline continues to lean against my side. I feel her body relax as her eyes drift shut. A few minutes later, she's snoring softly beside me.

All the while, she never lets go of Raelyn's picture.