christmas eve
it is the first christmas since christopher was born. harry came back on christmas eve's eve, this time. he'd met christopher quite a few times before. every single time was difficult for me.
gemma is the only one from his side of the family who knows that harry is christopher's dad. his parents are under the impression that it was a sperm donor. it seems as though they threw away any underlying suspicion when i said that. my parents are ever-so-supportive – it's amazing. though my parents insisted that i live with them, i opted to move out just before chris turned one. i cannot keep relying on them for my every crave and need.
on christmas eve, there was a dinner party at my parents' house. i dressed christopher in the new clothes my father brought him from his business trip to france. he is so ecsatic to wear his new clothes – black slacks, a white button up and deep red suspenders. the suspenders he wore with the slacks looks adorable on him. the bib he's wearing has a drawing of a tie on it.
i leave him to play on the carpet in my room as i finish up getting ready. i am wearing a simple black dress that does not hug my figure. it is sleeveless and comfortable. not to look too simple, i put on a few of my necklaces. i don't try anymore with make-up. i just apply the standard – concealer, mascara and crimson red lipstick. my hair is straightened and i have a hair-tie around my wrist for later.
christopher grins at me as he sees me approaching him. he raises his arms, opening and closing his palms, saying, "mama."
i smile, picking him up and placing him on my hip. his hands immediately latch onto my hair and necklace. he giggles as the necklaces make a sound, repeating his hand motion. there are three swift knocks on the wooden door of my room and i give an affirmative answer for the visitor to come in. gemma walks in, smiling.
"hi, toffee," she says, heading straight for my child. he grins at the nickname then nuzzles his face in my neck. a smile is on my face as i jiggle him a little and he sits up, looking up at me.
"is everyone downstairs already?" i ask, handing the baby over to gemma. she nodded, making funny faces when chris tugs on her dark hair. "why am i nervous again?"
she rolls her eyes at me and just as she's about to say something, chris leans over to me again. "you'll be okay," she assures me, giving me a warm smile.
~*~
for the hundredth time that night, someone asks me whose child i am carrying. this is how it goes: they ask, i reply that he is mine, they are surprised, they ask who's the dad and i tell them the child is a result of a sperm donor. i've stuck with that story for months, now. some give me disapproving looks, others of awe, questioning the procedure. i excuse myself from the curious guest, glancing at the clock on the wall. six in the evening.
"topher," i say, and he looks up at me, chortling happily. his hair began to have slight curls at the tips. he tugs on my hair. "what do you want to do, baby, do you want to eat?"
"nana!" he tells me, moving his legs in excitement."nana, mama!"
nana, i have come to learn, is food. together, we waddle over the to the kitchen. i place him in his high chair and he immediately begins to bang on the surface, laughing. i shake my head, sighing in contentment. children can entertain themselves with nothing.
heating up his pre-made food, i take his fresh juice out of the refrigerator, filling his sippy-cup.
"uh-oh!" he says, and my attention snaps to him. he's dropped his toy on the floor and he is in awe. chris looks at me with wide eyes, pointing at the teether he dropped. amused, i pick it up and wash it off. handing it back to him, i pull a stool from the kitchen island to the counter as there is an assortment of alcohol on the island.
with a mouth full of food, christopher grins at me, his tiny teeth showing. out of nowhere, as he is drinking from his sippy-cup, he waves wildly to someone behind me. harry appears in my line of vision, looking through the alcohol as he licks his lips.
my face flames at the thought of his lips and i scold myself, standing up to clean chris up. i do not realise that he still has juice in his mouth until it dribbles down his chin.
"hi!" i hear harry's voice from behind me.
i greet him, leaning away from my excited child's mouth. "hello, 'toffee'." giggling, my child buries his face into my chest, effectively wiping the juice off his face onto my dress.
i whine, pulling him away from my chest. cleaning him up, i turn around to see harry's amused face. i remove chris's bib and harry offers to carry him. my heart flutters. "thank you," i murmur, smiling up at him hesitantly. "i'll just go change really quick."
when i come back, i bring along a sweater for christopher. many people are seated in various places of the ground floor to eat from the various dishes from the buffet that is set up. i find harry and chris talking to someone my parents knew by the balcony doors.
"i didn't know you had a child –" the person is cut off by an excited squeal from christopher when he spots me approaching.
he opens and closes his palms, leaning towards me. "mama, mama!" he chants happily.
the person's words, a woman who looks to be around forty, finally register in my head and my chest tightens uncomfortably.
"actually, he isn't mine," harry replies, stroking christopher's head. my son grins up at him, catching harry's index in his palm.
yes, he is. i wish i told you. i wish i did. maybe in another life things would have been perfect and we would've had him in a few years after we had stable jobs and a nice place to stay. christopher would have someone to call dad and you'd know how much i really do love you.
i say none of that, looking down at christopher who is interested in my hair.
