WILD (✓)

~ nine ~

"I can't believe you waited until now to get a tree," I grumble at my mother, rubbing my hands together for warmth. Even through my wool mittens, the winter air chills me to the bone.

"I waited for you," Mom reminds me pointedly. "We always get a tree as a family," her voice trails off and she pretends to be admiring a row of Christmas trees in front of us to avoid my gaze. A family. I feel the familiar lump in my throat as I think about the word. Looking at the two of us, I guess we are a family. She and grandma are all I have, and grandma lives so far away. I miss the days when we were whole, I sniffle.

"Okay, well let's get looking then before our toes freeze off," I try to stay upbeat. It's Christmas time, a time for joy and love, right? As we trudge through the snow, hearing the satisfying crunch of ice under our boots, I trail my fingers over the evergreen pines. I love the smell of Christmas trees. I inhale deeply, remembering a time when Christmas was happy in our home. Now it's just a sad reminder of who isn't here anymore.

"What do you think?" Mom points a red mitten in front of us after about an hour of browsing.

"I think it's huge," I force a laugh. "Where will we put it?"

Mom chews the inside of her cheek as she contemplates the situation. "In the den?" She looks to me for approval. We've always put the tree in the living room, but we got new couches this year and now the space is too crowded. Sensing my thoughts, Mom continues. "I think it's time we start some new traditions," she squeezes my hand tightly in her own. I nod simply, feeling tears prick my eyes.

"Now if we can just find someone to get this on the car for us," She mumbles, instructing me to stay put as she finds someone. I kick the toe of my boot into the snow, watching as the icy top cracks and fluffy white flakes burst from underneath. Within a few days the fresh snow will be gone, replaced by dirty, brown mush on the side of the roads. Maybe the winter season isn't all it's cracked up to be, anyways, I think to myself.

Mom finally returns, a couple of men in tow. They lift the big tree with ease, carrying it to the front store to pay. Once inside, I look around while Mom waits in line. It smells like Christmas in here - pine needles and cinnamon, with a hint of peppermint. I make my way to the ornaments, touching them as I go. Some are wooden and probably handmade, others are the thinnest glass possible, beautiful paintings illustrating nativity scenes and other holiday traditions decorating each delicate ball.

"Daddy, look, it's me!" A small, curly headed toddler waddles to her father, a plastic ballerina ornament in her chubby fingers. I admire her little velvet Christmas dress, the ones all little girls wear around the holidays.

"It is you, baby," her father smiles widely, lifting her into his arms. "That's the one you want?" He asks her and she nods enthusiastically, giggles escaping as her dad tickles her sides.

It's been a tradition for me to pick out a new ornament each year since I was little. Maybe it is for her, too. I smile at her, remembering my own father helping me to choose. If I was lucky, he might let me get two instead of choosing between them. I exhale a deep sigh, putting down the little wooden snowflake I had grabbed. Instead, I make my way to the shelf the young girl was looking at and grab a cheap, plastic ballerina and head to the cash register to find Mom.

"That's the one you want?" She scrunches her nose as I come up beside her and place the ornament on the counter. I nod yes and she shrugs, handing over her credit card.

"Hold the ladder!" I shout at Lucas as the metal ladder wobbles side to side.

"I am, I am, stop moving around so much," He laughs loudly but firmly grips both sides of it as I place the angel on top of the tree. I flush as my shirt lifts a little, exposing soft belly skin right in front of Lucas. He casts his eyes to the side and I'm grateful that he does.