Christmas and Wrapping Paper

A scream pierced the air, jolting me awake. I ran to the children's room, wincing as I padded barefoot down the hall. As I came to halt at the door, I took a look around. The children all had dazed looks in their faces. As I panned around, my eyes landed on a teary Wrapping Paper. I rushed to her, trying to quiet her sobs.

I picked her up and walked out of the room, leaving the rest of the children to sleep in peace. I stroked her hair like I had after the syrup incident. I was really just going off what I had seen on TV, and it didn’t seem to be working. I rocked the little 7 year old.

“Here.” Nick said, outstretching his arms once we were back to his room. I handed her over and he sat on the bed with her, comforting her like he’d done it a million times before. I sat beside them, wrapping an arm around Wrapping Paper as well.

“What happened?” I asked softly.

She scrubbed at her eyes, before answering meekly, “Nightmare.”

“Honey.” There it was again. That term of endearment. I just couldn’t help it. “It’s all over now though. You’re safe.”

“You want to tell us about it?” Nick asked, wiping away a few of her fallen tears with his sleeve. She shook her head. “Do you want to go back to sleep?” And again.

“I got this.” I told Nick, then grabbed Wrapping Paper again. “How about some hot chocolate?”

I carried her downstairs, cringing at the creaky steps. I set her down on the counter, going to scavenge the ingredients. After a few minutes, I’d found the powder in one of the cupboards and the milk in the fridge. I poured us each a glass, mixing the powder in after. I heated them both up in the microwave, giving Wrapping Paper the cooler one.

“You know, when I was little and I had a nightmare, my mom would make me hot chocolate when I couldn’t sleep. We’d drink it together while we watched late night television, until I finally fell asleep.” I explained. She took a sip, pulling the cup away to reveal a hot coco mustache. A smile claimed my lips, pulling me out of my sadly nostalgic state.

“What about now?” She asked.

“Now…,” I thought about it. “Now my mom isn’t around. She died of visceral cancer.”

“What’s that?” She asked, brown eyes innocent and curious as she took another sip of her drink.

“It’s cancer that attacks your organs. See, it’s so discreet, no one ever knew about it until she was already gone.” I told her. “She felt sick that morning, and by the night, she was dead. It really shows you how quickly you can lose someone.”

“I’m sorry.” She said, beckoning me to her. I obliged, setting down my drink to lean into her. She wrapped her tiny arms around my neck. I squeezed her tiny body, taking comfort in her caring. It was an odd feeling. Like… warmth. And it was spreading.

“Chris…,” Nick said, suddenly floating into the kitchen. “I had no idea.” He scratched the back of his head nervously. “About your mom, I mean. I’m sorry for being so hard on you.”

“It’s okay.” I replied, pulling away from Wrapping Paper. “We all make mistakes every now and then. We’re human after all.”

“Now kiss and make up!” Wrapping Paper chimed from the counter.

Nick’s face flamed and I’m sure mine did too. “Kids say the darnedest things.” He chuckled. “I’ll just be going to bed now.”

“Goodnight Nicholas.” I said.

“Goodnight Christine.” He replied.

“St. Nick and Chris Kringle!” Wrapping Paper sang.

***

I woke up and Nick was gone. His blanket was splayed carelessly on the ground, abandoned. I rubbed my eyes sleepily, hauling myself out of bed. I padded down the halls once again, peering in the children’s room as I did so. Everyone was sleeping peacefully.

Once in the kitchen, I found a gaggle of men moving holding some familiar things. Mr. Higgins’s stuff! They were finally getting rid of it and selling it.

“Morning Chris.” Nick greeted while helping one of the men move a couch.

“Morning.” I replied, tipping my imaginary hat.

“Would you mind lending a hand?” Mrs. Higgins asked from behind me.