I remembered the day like it was yesterday. My wedding day. It was a day like no other, a magical day. I was marrying the man of my dreams and I couldn’t wait for us to start our lives together as a family.
To this day I wondered how long our marriage would have lasted if my husband would had stayed faithful.
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I heard my ex husband’s flight being announced as arriving. I turned to my two sons, 7 year old Charlie and 4 year old Michael and said, “Kids, let’s go. Your Dad’s flight has just landed. We’re meeting him at the little café shop.” I stood up with my belongings in hand and took Michael’s hand. “Charlie,” I said and watched him play his video game, as if he didn’t hear me or see me standing there. “Charlie,” I said again, my voice raising a notch with frustration.
Michael was too young to fully understand what was going on between his parents, but Charlie was fully aware and he made it clear to me on many occasions, he was not happy with his Dad and me divorcing.
“I don’t understand why we can’t spend Christmas together,”
Charlie said without looking up from playing his video game.
I sighed a little sadly and bent down eye level with my son. “Charlie,
we’ve been through this.” He looked at me. “Your Dad and
I agreed that you and Michael would spend Thanksgiving with me and you and
Michael would spend Christmas with your Dad.”
“But I want to spend Christmas together as a family.”
“I know sweetie, but not this year.” I straighten back up and gave a knowingly smile. “But don’t you worry, I sure you and your brother are going to have a great time with your Dad.”
Charlie made a face as he stuffed his video game into his backpack and stood up and started walking. “I doubt it. Dad doesn’t even have a Christmas tree! I asked him! He says he’s been too busy in the studio to get one. What’s a Christmas without a Christmas tree?”
“No tree?” Michael said looking up at me with his big blue eyes he got from his Dad. “What about Santa?”
Charlie looked at his brother annoyed. “Gosh, Michael you’re such a baby. There's no such thing as Santa and if there was, he wouldn’t be stopping by Dad’s house this Christmas because he has no tree and Dad’s house is not decorated for Christmas.”
Michael stopped walking and his eyes welled up with tears, and his mouth pulled down as he started to cry.
“Charlie!” I snapped angrily as he just looked at me with a sorry stare.
I scoop up Michael in my arms and comforted him by telling him, Santa was real and he would visit Daddy’s house.
Seeing the café shop in sight, Charlie ran up to an empty table with a few chairs and sat down.
“I’m hungry,” he told me after I sat down with Michael in my lap.
I sighed and brushed back a few strands of my hair. “How can you be hungry? You ate breakfast.” He shrugged. “Well what do you want to eat?” I asked.
He cocked his head to the side and thought for a moment.
“Do you see anything up there you like?” I asked hopefully gesturing to the café shop menu.
Charlie studied the menu for a moment. “I want a cinnamon bun and hot chocolate.”
I nodded, standing up with Michael. “I’ll be right back,” I told Charlie. “Don’t you move. Your Dad should be here in a few minutes.” I walked away to the counter to order Charlie’s cinnamon bun and hot chocolate and I ordered the same for Michael, knowing he would want the same as his big brother. I then turned to Michael when I heard him sniffle. “Aw sweetie, what’s the matter?”
Looking at me with tears in his eyes, Michael said, “How will Santa know where to leave my presents? Daddy doesn’t have a Christmas tree.”
“Do you know what I think? I think Daddy is just waiting to pick out the most perfect Christmas tree with his two boys, and then you guys can decorate it together. You boys are going to have so much fun!” I smiled and kissed Michael’s cheek.
Michael smiled a big smile. “Can you make gingerbread men for Santa?”
I gave Michael a tight squeeze. “Not this year, sweetie. Maybe next year. But you can still leave Santa cookies and milk.”
“But I want gingerbread men.”
“Sweetie, Daddy doesn’t know how to make gingerbread men.” I chuckled softly remembering when one year Justin tried making gingerbread men on his own, but ended up almost burning down the house. “Believe me, sweetie you don’t want Daddy baking.” After getting my order, I walked back to the table. “Your Dad is not here?” I asked Charlie.
“Nope,” he replied. “Maybe he got mobbed by fans.”
I gave Charlie a stern look. “Charlie, please.”
He sighed and sat back in his chair. “Do we really have to spend Christmas with Dad in LA?”
“Yes, for the millionth time.”
“But WHY? Why can’t we spend Christmas here in New York as a family where it’s cold and actually FEELS like Christmas?”
“Please don’t start this again, Charlie,” I said slightly irritated.
“But-”
“No buts. You are going to spend Christmas in LA with your Father and that’s FINAL.”
Upset and angry, Charlie pushed himself away from the table. “I hate this. I don’t want to spend Christmas in LA with Dad. I want to spend Christmas as a family.”
I reached for Charlie hand, but he pulled it away. “Charlie, I know how you feel, but spending Christmas as a family is just not going to happen. Maybe later down the road, but not this year.”
“Maybe you should ask Santa to let us spend Christmas as a family this year,” Michael said, speaking up.
I turned to Michael, but before I could say anything, Charlie said, “Whatever. Santa isn’t real.”
“He is too real! Mommy said so!”
“Okay okay, Michael that’s enough. Eat your cinnamon bun.” I turned to Charlie and gave him a stern look. “And you, you better watch it.”
“Daddy!” Michael suddenly shouted, startling me and his brother. He jumped up to stand on his seat and greeted his Dad with a great big hug.