Group Writing Project #5
A Gift to Remember
By Zap
The step creaked as his foot touched upon it. The boy froze, hoping that he wouldn’t be discovered there. He was supposed to be in bed asleep, not sneaking downstairs on Christmas Eve. What could he tell his stepfather if he were caught? His right hand tensed around the tissue-covered package it held. There was no sound but his breathing. He continued down, noticing the soft glow emanating from the family room. Uh-oh. He thought he’d turned off the tree lights.
"Jim," the soft call of his mother startled the boy. She sat on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her, smiling at her twelve-year-old son. "Shouldn’t you be in bed?"
Jim nodded, hiding the package behind his back. "I’m sorry. I guess I left the lights on."
Katje shook her head. "No, I turned them back on. It’s so lovely and peaceful down here. Come and sit with me for a minute."
Jim lowered himself gingerly beside her. "I won’t break," she said quietly, extending her arm. He let himself be pulled into her, catching the scent of lily of the valley. He was painfully aware of how thin she’d become as he rested his head against her shoulder. She stroked his hair soothingly, as if sensing his distress.
"What are you doing out of bed this late?" she asked curiously.
Jim sighed. He showed her the package. "I was going to put this under the tree. It’s a gift for you. Maybe...maybe you should open it now."
"You don’t want me to wait until Christmas morning? I’ve spoiled your surprise, haven’t I?"
"No, open it now, Mom." Secretly Jim was glad not to share this moment with his stepfather.
"You’ve wrapped it so prettily," she said. He watched her face carefully as she pulled away the ribbon and tissue, revealing a pressed flower suncatcher. "Oh, Jim, it’s beautiful." She held it up and admired the way the colored lights of the Christmas tree twinkled on the glass.
"I made it myself," Jim boasted.
"You did? My favorite flowers, I should have realized. But you must have started it a long time ago."
"Yes, I picked the flowers last spring and early summer, and then I pressed and dried them. It took me a while to learn how to weld the glass together nicely. Mr. Franklin taught me how."
"Thank you, sweetheart. It’s the best Christmas gift I ever got besides you."
Jim frowned. "But I was born in July, Mom."
She laughed. "Yes, but when you were born, your father said it was Christmas in July. That’s how we always thought of your birthday." A shadow crossed her face, but it quickly disappeared. "He would be very proud of you, Jim."
"I miss him, Mom," he said, sounding a little lost.
"I know, honey. So do I."
"You do? But Jonesy..."
"He’s very good to me," acknowledged Katje. "Jim, just because I remarried doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten your father. My love wasn’t buried with him. Just seeing you every day makes me think of your dad. You’re so much like him."
Maybe that’s why Jonesy doesn’t like me, thought Jim. He wishes I didn’t exist at all, I know. I’m just a reminder that my mother loved someone else...
Katje’s eyes closed; her still pretty face looked drawn and tired. "Are you sleepy?" asked Jim, trying not to sound disappointed. She was always tired now; always resting.
Her eyes opened and she shook her head. "No, I was just thinking about tomorrow. Christmas. I want it to be a special day for us."
Jim suddenly became aware of the ticking of the hall clock. Tick-tock, tick-tock. Time was slipping away from them. Jim could feel it, and he knew his mother felt it too. "Thanks again for the gift," she said. "I’m so lucky to have you as my son."
Jim blushed with a mixture of pride and self-consciousness. "Do you really like the suncatcher?’
"Absolutely! I’ll cherish it. I’ll hang it in my bedroom window and it’ll be the first thing I see when I wake up."
"When spring comes you’ll be able to enjoy it more," Jim said optimistically.
"Yes," Katje agreed, playing along with him.
Jim nestled in the crook of his mother’s arm and sighed contentedly. He hadn’t been alone with his mother this long for quite some time. He imagined there were just the two of them in the whole wide world; nothing existed outside of this moment and place.
"A penny for your thoughts," his mother said.
Jim looked up at her. "I was just thinking...I—I love you, Mom." He flung his arms around her.
"I love you, too," she said, burying her face in his tousled red hair for a moment before pulling away to smile at him. "I always will."
This is my gift, Jim thought, closing his eyes. I’ll never forget tonight no matter what tomorrow brings.
The End