The countdown to Christmas was on, and nothing about Lacey felt festive. New York City shined bright in colorful lights and decor. After eight hours at the bar, it was the last sight she wanted to see. Each store she passed on the walk home was bustling with tourists and locals alike. The excitement for Christmastime was clear everywhere she looked. But the sentiment wasn’t contagious like she hoped it would be when she moved to the city.

Instead, she walked with a heavy feeling in her chest. The season seemed hopeless after losing her beloved sister. Maisie promised to evaporate all the bad memories that came with this season. She was supposed to help her create new memories and move past their family trauma. Without her sister, Lacey had to confront the memories she did have. Every year was the same. It would be a forced day at church and her father’s favorite meal, only to have it ruined by his drunken actions. Her experiences made it hard to understand why people enjoyed the holidays. Outside of the religious connotations, in her mind, it was a commercialized reason to go broke.

Friday nights were Brooke’s night off from the bar. Which meant she called Lacey and kept her company while she walked home. Lacey was desperate for a distraction tonight. The day was long, and the thoughts in her head soured her mood. How was she supposed to find happiness when the one person she longed for the most was gone? Being sad felt childish, but her feelings remained despite the internal judgment. All she wanted to do was watch It’s a Wonder Life and mope in Brooke’s arms.

Her commute concluded without a call. “Did she forget?” she thought to herself. It was unlike Brooke not to get ahold of her. Lacey battled with worry. She decided that she would call Brooke instead tonight.

When she entered her building and reached her door, she noticed the spare key she had hidden was missing. The rug she had kept it under was also lifted.

With a quirked brow, she pushed her keys between her fingers with the points facing outward. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but she’d make do. She sucked in a deep breath and counted to three in her head before swinging the door open as fast as she could.

A robber was not inside. Instead, it was the most picturesque wonderland she had ever seen.

She walked further into the space to find a decorated tree stretched from floor to ceiling. There were lights strung around the walls and also on the branches. A small train set circled the base, making steam engine noises as it chugged along. It was like a scene from every Hallmark movie she’d ever watched.

“Don’t be mad,” Brooke said, breaking the stunned silence between them. “I know you miss her, but sulking isn’t how she would choose for you to spend your first holiday in New York,” she explained.

“When my mom died, she took the Christmas spirit with her,” she added to her explanation. “My dad was a workaholic. He had no interest in things he deemed to be childlike. All he wanted from me was to be a good reflection of him. But, my Grandmere knew how to do Noël,” she recalled as a fond smile stretched across her beautiful features. “There was no need for results. We were kids, and she made sure of that regardless of our circumstances,” she concluded with a sigh.

Lacing their fingers together, her hazel orbs held the gaze of her glistening girlfriend. “I love you and you can be mopey, but it won’t be without me. You got that?” She leaned forward. The pair shared a gentle kiss before Lacey broke the silence.

“My heart feels thankful. Grief-filled, but thankful that I have someone so stubborn to vanquish all my loneliness,” she explained. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to get through this without you,” she concluded, her eyes watering as she spoke.

Brooke wrapped her arms around Lacey and kissed her hair. “No need to thank me. Merry Christmas, baby.”

The two stood in the center of Lacey’s living room long enough for the image to etch itself into her mind. A new memory was unlocked between the couple to diminish the old, fearful ones from childhood. The weight of her sorrow felt that much lighter and her thankful heart brighter.

Editor: Shannon Hensley