by Lexie Syrah
A smile pricks on Kevin’s lips, but he says nothing.
More silence.
Ugh, I’m terrible at this.
The whistle of the kettle rings through the air and I jump to take it off the heat.
“Coming here isn’t easy for him,” Kevin says. “I know that. But this”—he gestures to the kitchen and out the window—“is more than just a childhood home.”
The heat of the kettle warms my hands, but I can’t take my eyes off Kevin. He stands, hands on the edge of the sink, staring out into the snow.
“We dreamt here. Every wish, desire, every ounce of passion…it was cultivated in this home because of them. Because of our mother and father. And now I’m afraid without them”—he shakes his head—“Hayden’s too sad to dream again.”
I take an awkward step toward Kevin, still holding the boiling kettle. “Dreams are never really lost. Maybe coming back will give him the courage he needs to find them again.”
Kevin flicks a small all-too familiar smile. “I hope that’s so. I tried my best, you know, to fill Mom and Dad’s void. To be a parent to him.” A flash of pain crosses his face. “Maybe I forgot how to be a brother.”
I put the kettle down and gingerly touch Kevin’s arm. “Hey, Kevin,” I say, then quickly cough and deepen my voice, “you did a great job. Hayden, well, maybe he doesn’t show it, but he looks up to you.” A blush rises to my cheeks. “And he’s just…well, he’s just the best guy I know.”
Kevin raises an eyebrow and smirks.
Quickly, I jump to the cupboards. “Err, I’ll grab some mugs for this hot chocolate!”
“I’ve got an idea.” Kevin darts from the room for a moment, flying through the house with the speed and grace only a center would have.
When he returns, he’s grinning from ear-to-ear like a little kid. In his hands, he carries two flaked, dull-colored thermoses.
“From your childhood.” I smile.
He pours the water and stirs in the hot chocolate powder. He hands me a mug and then picks up the two thermoses. “I think this is my play, Al. Why don’t you get some rest?”
Taking orders from Kevin Tremblay. This is like a dream come true. “Good night, Kevin.”
I head back up the stairs and creep into the bedroom. I can’t help but take a peek outside: Kevin walks over to Hayden and hands him his thermos. He puts an arm around his little brother.
I can’t see from here, but I imagine they’re smiling.
I steal an extra blanket from Hayden’s bed and lie back down on the deflated air mattress. A strange sensation fills me. Right here, on this hard floor, in this cold room in Manitoba…it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be.
…
Hayden
The stockings are opened, breakfast has been eaten, and we all wade through a flood of wrapping paper to enter the living room. The kids are passed out on the couch, and everyone meanders around, sipping coffee.
I didn’t think it was possible, but being here…it’s okay. I guess I thought coming home without Mom and Dad would make the pain worse. The emptiness is still there, but there’s something with it, too. Being here, remembering all our happy memories…it feels like I’m honoring them. I’m glad my uncle has this house and his family gets to enjoy it. It really was the best place to grow up. This is what Mom and Dad would have wanted.
I look to Kevin. His arm wraps around Eleanor. This time next year, they’ll have a baby. Someone new to love and care for.
I’ll be an uncle. Holy shit.
I shake my head and catch sight of Al on the couch. He rests his face in his hands and stares out the window. He was so excited this morning when he saw “Santa” had filled his stocking, too. It was just junk and chocolate, but by his grin, you woulda thought he’d won the Stanley Cup.
I plop down on the couch beside him. “Whatcha looking at?”
He gives me a sideways glance, running a hand through his wayward hair. “The ice rink.”
I follow his gaze. In the morning light, the rink doesn’t fill me with the same sadness it did last night. “I guess it looks nice.”
Al gives me that look of his.
“What?”
“Did you bring your skates?”
I raise my eyebrow. “Why would I bring my skates to Winnipeg?”
A smile breaks out across his face. “You totally did! So did I!”
“Okay, yeah.” I shift uncomfortably. “Just in case we wanted to go to the local rink! Trust me, you don’t wanna skate on that uneven, bumpy, backyard thing. Coach Z would skin us both if we hurt ourselves on that death trap!”
Al leaps to his feet. “Is the great Hayden Tremblay afraid I’ll embarrass him in front of his family?”
I tighten my jaw. “Yeah right, Bell. You’re just obsessed. Can you not go two days without skating?”
“Nope,” Al says, and grabs my arm. “And neither can you.”
I feign a sigh, but a smile works itself across my face. “I hate it when you’re right.”
…
Alice
It’s only nine p.m., but I’m exhausted. The day was so full — full of gifts, food, love. I sit on the couch surrounded by all of Hayden’s family, as a Christmas movie plays on TV. Most of the kids are in bed. Most of the adults look ready to pass out too, bellies full of turkey and Baileys.
I’ll have lots of wonderful memories from the last few days, but watching Hayden step out on that ice rink has to top my list. He was a little kid, laughing and mouthing Kevin off when he came out to join us. With the whole deception-thing, it can be hard to remember that hockey is fun. Nothing like being out on a homemade ice rink with two brothers to remind me of that.
After hockey, I spent a good hour on the phone with Mom, who seems to have mostly forgiven me for not coming to Mexico. It sounded like they were having a fun holiday, but Xander didn’t get on the phone once. Mom says he got a huge sunburn and isn’t feeling well.
A hot flash of guilt washes over me. This is the first Christmas I’ve been away from Xander. Maybe we never had a real Christmas, but we were always together. We’d sit in the same hotel bed, side by side, and shut the blinds, blocking out the beaming Mexican sun so we could pretend it was snowing out. We’d watch Christmas movies all day, except for breaks to run down to the buffet and gorge ourselves. I wonder if he did any of that today.
I suddenly feel hot, and walk to the kitchen for a glass of water. These thoughts are stupid. I shouldn’t be feeling guilty — I’m doing this for Xander!
Someone comes in the kitchen behind me. I spin around to see Hayden. He’s wearing the Christmas pajamas his aunt bought him: a white long-sleeve shirt and plaid flannel pants. It’s about two sizes too small, so the shirt stretches tight across his chest and the pants only go down to his ankles. His hair is mussed, brown wavy curls falling everywhere, and his cheeks are flushed from sitting so close to the fire. I can’t help but let out a little breath as I look at him.
I always wonder what version of Hayden is my favorite. Maybe the hockey player in his blue jersey, confidence radiating from him like heat from the sun. Locker room Hayden is also a winner, and not just ‘cause he’s usually shirtless (which is a total bonus) but because of his intensity, how he can bring a team together or pick us up when we’re at our lowest. And then there’s also Hayden outside the game, when we play video games and go to movies, and he wears his jeans and funny hats and stupid plaid shirts.
I savor him. I think pajamas Hayden might be my favorite yet.
“Hey,” I say, smiling, “what’s up?”
“It’s super hot in there. Wanna get some fresh air?”
I follow him out of the kitchen into the foyer, where we throw on our jackets and boots and head out into the snow. The cool air feels good against my flushed face. It’s so clear: stars stretching across the sky as far as the eye can see. Now I totally get what Clement C. Moore was trying to say about the moon on the breast of the new fallen snow. There’s so much light out here. �
��You’re right,” I say. “The stars are better in Winnipeg.”
“Told you.”
I look back to the house. His family crowds on the couch through the orange glow of the window. “They’re really in love, aren’t they?” I say in a low voice.
“Huh?” Hayden raises one of his thick brows.
“Kevin and Eleanor. Just watching them this trip… He’s super obvious about it, but she’s subtle. But you can tell.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just the little things.” I think back to the way Eleanor stroked the small of Kevin’s back absentmindedly, how he didn’t even have to ask how she wanted her turkey, the small glances and knowing looks exchanged across the dining table.
“You’re right,” Hayden says. “We knew from the day my brother first brought her home, that Eleanor was the one for him. They were both in grade seven.”
I wonder what that’s like…to love someone so instantly and completely.
“I’ve only seen one other couple that was that in love,” Hayden continues. “My parents.”
My heart hitches in my throat, and I turn my body to him. I curse my stupid brain for never having the right words to say, for staying silent when he needs me the most.
“It sounds wrong,” Hayden mumbles, “but I’m sort of glad they died together. They couldn’t have survived this world without the other.” His breath quivers.
“It silly how there’s billions of people on Earth, and one person can make or break the world for you,” I finally say. “Maybe it’s stupid, but I sort of believe there’s only one real love out there for everyone.” I look down at my boots, crunching in the snow.
“What are you, some sort of die-hard romantic?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I just think we might be happy with someone else, but it won’t be like…y’know…”
“Al, you might be right,” Hayden says. “Somehow, it’s just gotta all come together.”
My chest feels heavy, and I stare upward at the sky. Somehow, amid this madness of stars, we got to be right here, right now…together.
I know when I get deep in thought, I forget to deepen my voice, or I’ll cross my ankles or try to twirl my hair. And yet, these moments when I’m alone with Hayden are when I feel the most myself. The truest form of Alice I could possibly be.
And yet, he doesn’t even know my real name.
“You know what?” I whisper. “I feel like all this chaos has spit me out exactly where I need to be.” I turn to meet his eyes. “I know it will for you, too.”
He takes a deep breath but doesn’t look away. “Maybe it just has.”
Chapter Thirteen
Alice
Carpets vacuumed: check.
Dishes washed and dried: check.
Laundry neatly folded: check.
Fresh sheets for both Ma and Xander’s bed: check.
Floor gleaming so brightly I can see my sweaty face in it: check.
I fall back against the couch, more exhausted than after an overtime period. I don’t think I’ve ever cleaned so much in my life. I even made sure to follow the special instructions on all of Xander’s fancy shirts when I washed them! I’ve always believed if something doesn’t survive the dryer, it doesn’t deserve to be in my closet. Maybe that’s why Xander’s always had nicer clothes than me.
I look around at all my hard work. The house is eerily quiet now, without me clomping around. The clock on the mantle hits 6 p.m. I finished just in time—Ma and Xander will be home from the airport any minute.
I take a moment to breathe before real life begins again. It’s been so weird, coming home from Winnipeg to an empty house. My heart feels heavy with each beat. I miss Hayden.
And I miss Mom and Xander, too.
I look at all the photos hanging on the walls and framed along the mantle: Mom with each baby in an arm, her pulling us on a sled when we were just toddlers, Xander and I heading into the ice rink as kids. There’s even a picture of us sitting on the beach in Mexico from our Christmas vacation last year.
My throat and chest tighten. I couldn’t go this year… I couldn’t miss practice or a game. I wasn’t being selfish! It was for Xander’s cause!
I slouch down on the couch. Despite how many times I tell myself this, I know it’s all just an excuse for the truth. I’m having a better time being Al than Alice, and no matter how many dishes I scrub, it won’t change things. I ditched my mom and brother at Christmas.
The door swings open and Ma heaves her knock-off Louis Vuitton suitcase through the door. I jump up and snatch her other bags from her.
“Welcome home,” I say.
“Hello, darling! Oh, thank you. That one’s heavy.”
Ma’s face is gorgeously tanned—the rest of her is covered in a huge scarf and jacket to protect her from the mean Chicago wind.
Xander follows from behind her: his face is red and scorched, with flaking skin around the sides of his nose. My first instinct is to laugh hysterically, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to tease him. He looks so sullen, so weary.
Shyly, I stand back as Mom and Xander drop their bags in the hallway.
“Alice, what happened in here?” Ma says. “Did you hire an army?”
“No! I just thought I’d tidy up a little, that’s all.”
“It’s sparkling!”
“Did you have a good time?” I ask.
Mom begins the long process of removing her winter layers. “Oh, yes, it was lovely. They’ve built a few new cabanas on the beach that are just to die for. But you have to get there right at the crack of dawn to get one to yourself. Why, one time I had to fight this Texan lady who thought she could just muscle her way in—”
I look at Xander and crack a smile. I can only imagine how awkward that must have been for him…but he’s not smiling at me or rolling his eyes behind Ma’s back like I expected. He just stares at his shoes. Although he’s out of his cast, he still favors his weak side.
“—and she never tried that again!” Ma says, finishing the story I mostly zoned out for.
I look back at her and affect a smile. “Glad you guys had a great time.”
“Well, we missed you, Alice,” Ma says. She doesn’t make eye contact with me, and my chest pangs painfully.
“I missed you guys, too,” I say quietly.
“How was Winnipeg?” Ma asks as she walks to the couch.
I gulp. I’d hoped she wouldn’t ask. I’d told her I was spending a few days with my teammate Hayden in Winnipeg. It wasn’t my fault she’d just assumed Hayden was a girl. Of course, she had wanted all my details (flight times and the address I was staying at), but she really hadn’t asked that much. I think she was still sore I wouldn’t go to Mexico.
“It was really fun. I ate a ton of good food and played in the snow, and we even skated on a homemade ice rink!” No lies. I turn to Xander. “How are—”
“I’m going to take a shower.” Xander turns without even looking at me and storms up the stairs.
“I think he really missed you,” Ma says, nodding toward his bedroom. “He was pouting all week.”
My stomach roils. What am I supposed to do if Xander won’t tell me what’s wrong? He was the one who lied to me. “No idea what’s up with him. Bad taco, maybe.”
Mom sighs audibly. “He’ll get over it. He always does. Remember how quiet and moody he got right before we moved? Then when we arrived, he was a brand new person!”
Mom’s right—Xander’s moods are more unpredictable than Chicago’s weather. “Hey, I got something for you.” I pull out a small gift bag I hid behind the armchair. “Just a little something from Winnipeg.”
Mom raises an eyebrow and takes the present hesitantly. “For me?” She reaches into the bag and pulls out a fat black bear stuffie.
“It’s Winnie-the-Pooh,” I explain. “Well, kind of. The bear that Winnie-the-Pooh was based on lived in Winnipeg like a million years ago. He’s like a local icon there.” I had bought it at one of the
gift shops at the airport. When Hayden saw me with it, he went and bought one for himself.
“I’ll give it to the baby,” he had said.
Mom doesn’t take her eyes off the stuffed bear. “I love it.”
“I got a sweater for Xander, but maybe I’ll give it to him later,” I mumble.
“Don’t fret about him.” Mom caresses one of the little bear’s ears. “Perhaps next year we could try something different. We could rent one of those chalets in Aspen or see the tree lighting in Nantucket. Or even just stay here. Just somewhere where there’s snow.” She gives me a cheeky look. “And ice, of course.”
I lean my head on Ma’s shoulder. “What, and have me go another year without seeing those new cabanas? No way.”
…
“Zzz…but I wanna see the dinosaur people…zzz…”
A hand grabs my knee, and I shoot awake. “Al, wake up! We’re here,” Madison says. “Hello, Milwaukee!”
I rub my eyes. Harsh florescent lights blare overhead, and I see the blurry shapes of my teammates making their way off the bus. Jeez, I’m exhausted. From practices, games, rehearsing my figure skating routine for the approaching Ice Ball, homework, and navigating the never-ending minefield of Xander’s emotions, it’s been an exhausting couple of weeks. My Christmas vacation seems like a faraway dream.
“I guess I slept the whole way,” I mutter and rub the goose bumps from my arms. I’m sure the whole left side of my face is red from being pressed up against the window for hours. It’s good though; I know I won’t be getting a lot of sleep tonight, figuring I promised Madison we’d hit up the house party of one of her friend’s who lives in the city. I even packed a bunch of my girlie things—my hair extensions, a dress, a push-up bra even!—so I can be myself for a night. Or at least a dolled-up version of myself.
“Come on, Al!” Madison calls from the front of the bus. “You’re the last one off!”
I give a big yawn and sling my bag over my shoulder. I feel like a zombie. Thank goodness Madison will be doing all the work to turn me back into a girl.
