The Softer Side of Unbearable

After a few parties, and a few days spent visiting random friends, November faded into December, and Christmas arrived. Bailey sat cross-legged on the floor in Spencer's apartment, holding a silver-wrapped package.

The two of them had decorated the apartment a couple of weeks before for the holiday. While Spencer had hung a tacky garland around the door frames, Bailey had wrapped a set of colourful lights around the balcony railing. The two of the them had taken on the tree together, even though it was only two feet tall and stood on his coffee table.

"Here," Bailey shoved the gift box toward him. "Open it, open it!"

Spencer pushed a similar package at her as he accepted her present. He tore off the paper and pulled the lid from the box. "Whoa. This is awesome, Bailey!" He began pulling out the contents. She had given him some new art supplies, along with a sweater and a couple of CDs that she thought he would like. "Now open yours!" He commanded.

She ripped at the wrapping paper in much the same way that a small child would. Most years, Bailey and Spencer didn't exchange gifts. But they weren't usually together around the holidays. She wasn't sure what to expect from him.

Spencer gave her some new music software for her laptop so that she could record a bit while she was on the road. He also gave her a new shoulder strap for her bass guitar, and a new leather-bound book to put her lyrics in. He had known that she was running out of blank pages in the one that she had.

"Thank you," she hugged him quickly as she prepared to leave.

"No, thank you!" He laughed as he hugged her back.

"I'll talk to you soon. Merry Christmas, Spencer."

"We talk every single day, Bailey. Of course we'll talk soon. Merry Christmas."

"Drive safe. I'll let you know when I get there, okay?"

"See you in a few days!" Spencer waved and closed the apartment door.

Bailey tossed her bag over her shoulder and waved as she headed to the underground parking where she'd left her car. The roads were wet and slick, so she took her time as she drove to her parents' house. It wasn't a long trip, but it was long enough that she was antsy by the time she arrived.

When she had finished high school and got her own apartment, Bailey's parents had left Vancouver and moved out into a more rural area. They spent their days relaxing on an acerage, where her father cared for a vast garden in the summertime. As she pulled into the drive, she saw that her brother was already there. She'd expected that; it was already Christmas Eve. She had spent the past few days with Josh and Spencer, doing some last-minute Christmas shopping.

"Auntie Bailey!" A screech met her as she walked into the house.

"Gavin!" She dropped her bags and reached out just in time to catch the small, raven-haired boy that was hurtling towards her. "You've gotten so big! Have you been drinking your milk?"

"Yup. Did you bring presents?"

"Presents are for tomorrow. Maybe if you're lucky, you can open one tonight. Where are Mommy and Daddy?"

He adjusted his position in her arms and pointed toward the living room. "With Grandma and Grandpa."

"Well, I guess I should go and see them, huh? Is Santa going to come tonight?" She continued to chatter animatedly with the boy as she carried him into the other room. Gavin was smart; he often had full conversations with Bailey. She loved him as much as she would her own child. Often, they were inseperable when they were together.

"Hey, Bailey!" Brian greeted her with a warm smile as he looked up from the television. "How's life?"

Brian was Bailey's only sibling. The two looked nothing alike, except for the round shape of their faces and their identical noses. His skin was a richer shade than her ghostly pale, and he had dark hair and eyes. He looked like his father, while Bailey inherited her fair features from their mother.

"I would say it couldn't be better, but I think it just improved. I missed this little guy," she paused to squeeze her nephew tight. "How are you guys? Everybody healthy and well?"

"Everyone is great," Brian's wife, Melanie, grinned. "Gavin has been watching every interview you do. Even if we find random ones online. You don't even have to be visible; he gets excited over the ones you do over the phone, too. I think you're his hero, Bailey."

"Oh wow. I just don't know what to say," despite herself, she felt overwhelmed. "Thank you."

"We're so glad to have you home, dear," her mother said in greeting.

Bailey set Gavin down on the couch. "It's good to be out of the city for a couple of days. I'm looking forward to some peace and quiet."

"Quiet?" Brain scoffed. "You'll never get any quiet when you're around Gavin. That kid has discovered that life is more fun if you're yelling."

Bailey shrugged. "We have that in common."

"Don't start yelling, please," her father frowned. "I lived through enough of that when you were a kid."

Bailey had always taken after her dad. He had passed on his musical talent, and he shared her sense of humor. However, he enjoyed tranquility when she found it dull. He was perfectly happy with staying in night after night, while she craved excitement.

The family began to compare stories from the past months, though most everyone was waiting to hear what was new with Bailey. While they went to their day jobs and dealt with mundane tasks, she was off making television appearances and playing in front of sold-out crowds. She was living her dream, and everyone wanted to know just how it felt. She found, however, that it was impossible to describe the emotion that hit her everytime the crowd cheered. All she knew was that she was happy.

The afternoon wore into the evening, and Bailey helped her mother prepare a simple meal. But any homecooked meal was wonderful to her. She was way too used to eating fast food or take out. Even the act of cooking seemed to be more fun with her family. Gavin was reaching the age where he wanted to help with everything, so Bailey found herself giving him minor tasks to do. She joined in his gleeful delight when he successfully accomplished setting the table.

Nobody seemed to enjoy silence while they ate, so Bailey's dad turned on the evening news so that it could provide some white noise. She wasn't paying much attention, but for some reason the female reporter's voice suddenly lured her in.

"I'm here on the scene as emergency crews are cleaning up the single-car collision that occured only about an hour ago. As you can see behind me, it's a gruesome scenario. The driver, who's name has not been released, hit a patch of glare ice and lost control of the vehicle. The car flipped on its side before crashing into the guard rail behind me. The entire roof of the car was crushed in, instantly killing the only person inside. When the ambulance arrived, it was too late to provide any life-saving assistance."

The rest of the report seemed muted as an odd ringing filled Bailey's ears. She couldn't get a good look at the vehicle, but she felt that she knew it. She couldn't explain why she was so certain. She knew the victim in the car crash. But she couldn't believe it.

"No," she argued suddenly, hearing her fork clatter against her plate as it fell from her fingers.

"What?" her mother asked, twisting in her seat to try and see the TV. "What is it?"

"No," Bailey repeated. It seemed to be the only word in her vocabulary.

"Bailey, what's wrong? You look ill," her father placed his hand on her shoulder. It didn't restrain her.

She was up from her seat and dashing across the room. She kept repeating herself as she reached for her keys. "No, no, no."

"Bailey!" Brian got to his feet, his chair scraping against the linoleum as he did. "It's Christmas Eve. Where are you going?"

She was pulling on her shoes as the panicked tears began to form in her eyes. "No. Please, God, no. Please." She wrenched open the front door and bolted for her car. She didn't know what she could do to prove it wasn't true, but she had to do something. She had to try.