#aallisonargent

Snowflakes were starting to stick to the windowpanes when Stiles fully realized that his mother would never come back.

He understood what had happened to her. He had seen her being placed into the ground. But he had hoped, stubbornly, that the recent months were a dream and she would walk through the front door.

He was now turning over the thought that the only people who had entered through that door were Dad and Scott. It was never her. Never her. Stiles’ dream was a balloon, and it had been pricked with that needle of truth.

The snow was now covering a whole window. Stiles had heard on TV one day that it was rare for a snowstorm to happen in this area; “A once in a lifetime kind of thing.”

He wished that what he was feeling was a once in a lifetime thing, too.

–

The warmth of hot chocolate was filling Lydia up when she learned that her father would only be stopping by for Christmas.

She could over hear the strained tone of mother’s voice from the living room. She inadvertently caught snippets of the conversation, and tried to listen to a song on the radio instead.

Lydia had come to love Christmastime, with all of its festivity and joy. But moments like this made it less colorful. She wanted to forget that there was strife with her parents, but it was facing her whenever she turned a corner.

Andy Williams was singing faintly about the most wonderful time of the year when she heard the phone slam back into its hook.

She sipped her drink again, and wished that the words of the song could really be true.

–

“Are you sure no one else is coming?”

Christmas was soon approaching, like a car coming up a street. It was only a day away. Stiles had asked this question to his Dad for the third time, that day. His answer was the same.

“No, Stiles, no one else. I’m sorry.”

And each time, his smile fell just a little.

Noah then explained that the snowstorm kept distant relatives at bay, and closer ones decided to hunker in that travel out into the white landscape.

All the twinkling lights in the house couldn’t lift his spirits. He decided, right then and there, that he hated snow. And he hated the absence his Mom left.

He still had his Dad, but now he didn’t have her. The loss seemed greater than the remainder.

“I’ll tell you what, why don’t we make some cookies?” The elder Stilinski ruffled his son’s hair, to no change in demeanor.

“I’ll let you lick the spoon, ok?”

A small smile formed on his son’s face, and he nodded.

–

“When’s he coming?”

Lydia had asked this question three times to her mother now. Once while she was hanging holly, once while she was adjusting ornaments, and again while she was sweeping the floor. And each time, she had gotten the same answer.

“I’m sorry honey, I’m not sure. Can you help me with this?”

Lydia had helped her mother on each occasion, but with a slight grimace. Christmas was tomorrow and she did not feel one ounce of jolliness in her body.

After sweeping was finished, Natalie Martin had gotten another phone call. This time, Lydia was in the same room. She watched her mother’s expression change from anger to disappointment to sadness. The last emotion was written on her face when she placed the phone back on the hook.

“Lydia, he’s not coming back.”

“But…”

“There’s a lot of snow near his brother’s house, honey, and he’s not sure if he can make it back safely. He’s just going to stay there.”

“But Mom…” She had hoped her pleading would change something, anything.

“I’m sorry honey but he’s not…”

Their decked Christmas tree gracefully fell to the polished wood near them, punctuated by the sound of shattered glass and rustling branches. As if on cue, the lights above them shorted out.

“..coming back.”

Mother and daughter turned around and shared a look of exasperation after looking at the fallen tree. Good ornaments reduced to glass shards, and lights that once flickered were rendered useless by the result of the impact. Salvaging it seemed futile, along with the lights.

Natalie took a deep breath, and then instructed her daughter to get her coat.

“Where are we going?”, Lydia asked as she took it off a nearby hook. “I thought we couldn’t go anywhere.”

Her mother quickly buttoned up her coat, then her daughter’s as they headed out. “The roads are better here, we can go.”

“You know who Stiles is, right? He goes to school with you.” She took Lydia’s hand, and the two rushed to their car as it unlocked.

Lydia thought for a moment, recalling his repeated absence a few months ago. A name didn’t come to mind, just a face. A face perpetually etched with equal parts of happiness and mourning.

“What’s a Stiles?”

–

A knock startled Noah out of his table setting. He went over to his front door with Stiles at his tail, the younger Stilinski repeating “Who is it?” until they reached it.

His father turned the knob. Stiles blinked a few times when he saw the red-headed (no, strawberry-blonde) girl with an older woman who looked like her at their doorstep. Her mom.

“I don’t mean to interfere,” Natalie said to Noah, “but our tree just fell over and the lights went off. Can we join you for Christmas?”

“Um, yeah, sure” he replied. “We have plenty of room.” He started to smile, confusion replaced with joy. “Come in, come in. It’s freezing out there.”

The two of them stepped over the threshold into the warmth of the house. Stiles noticed that the girl’s cheeks were pinked from the cold.

“You’re Stiles, right?” She asked.

“Yep and you’re…”

“Lydia.”

Amid their conversation, Scott had made his way to the front door. The space between his eyebrows crinkled in confusion.  

“Wait, what’s going on? Why is she here?”

“Tree mishap,” Lydia replied, with a shrug. “Why are you here?”

“Stiles and I are buddies, so I was invited. My Mom’s coming to pick me up soon.”

“You should convince her to let you stay,” Stiles chimed in. “Both of you should.” He was amazed that Lydia and her mom arrived, and he wasn’t going to let his best friend leave this soon.

–

“Stiles, Lydia, Scott, we’re opening gifts!”

Noah’s words rang out across the house, and Stiles sprung out of his bed. He shook Lydia and Scott awake out of their sleeping bags, shrieking “Get up, Get up!”

The two of them tailed Stiles into the living room, where gifts of various were stacked underneath a tree with blinking lights. They were wrapped in paper depicting snowmen, Santa, and snowflakes.

Their parents were gathered around them, sitting on adjoining sofas. Noah was in charge of delegating the gifts, and gave Stiles the first one. He ripped off pieces of the paper until it revealed a plastic replica of Yoda in some packaging.

“Mom got that for you.”

Stiles looked up at him, confused. “I thought Santa did.”

“Well, she had some help. Before what happened.” he said, his voice cracking.

Stiles eyes pooled with tears, and before he could turn around Scott and Lydia were at his side. They both rubbed his back, as Stiles continued to stare at the Yoda.

The three of them stayed like that for what seemed like minutes.

“C’mon, let’s see what else we got,” Scott said to Stiles. He nodded, and his dad passed out the next present with a smile.

–

She knew that her father and mother might not be together anymore. But Lydia realized that they didn’t have to be. She and her Mom weren’t by themselves since a fallen tree brought them to the Stilinski house.

–