Christmas Day
1225 Words
Dustin lay on the sofa in his study, fuming. Why couldn’t Amanda understand he was caught between a rock and a hard place? He wanted to come home on time but Jenny needed him. Jenny probably couldn’t confide in Chris like she could with him so he had to be there for his baby girl. Besides, didn’t he eat dinner with his family often? What’s the big deal anyway?
He sighed and turned on the sofa trying to get comfortable.
“Father?”
The same word that grated his nerves earlier.
“Yeah?”
“I got you some warm milk.”
Dustin sighed and sat up to look at Amara still standing at the doorway. She is so small; the same age now as Jenny when he first saw her all those years ago. He was an i***t and divorced Amelia when she was pregnant and lost out on five years of his children’s childhood. It was a sin he would have to atone for the rest of his life. After his remarriage and the birth of Amara, he couldn’t help but wonder if Jenny was as cute as Amara at each milestone. He would never know.
While Jenny took after him, Amara was a carbon copy of Amanda. Amanda had dominant genes with a temper to match. He snorted under his breath at the thought.
“Thanks, Jellybean,” Dustin murmured as he took the mug.
Amara blinked slowly at the familiar nickname and chewed her lower lip. She heard it often at the Farley residence. Jenny was Jelly, Peter was Peanut, and Dillon was DS. As for Amara? She was just Amara. Father must have forgotten.
Amara swallowed hard. “You’re welcome.”
Dustin studied Amara as he took a sip of warm milk, wondering if he should apologize now. “Did you want me to read you a bedtime story?”
Amara looked up, noting the weariness in her father’s face, and quickly waved her little hands. “Oh no, it’s okay. Good night, Father.”
“Oh…Good night, Amara.”
Amara hurried out of his office and closed the door. Her small hand clutched the front of her cotton nightgown as she swallowed her tears. Jenny Jenny Jenny— all her Father ever thought about was Jenny.
***
A fresh dump of snow covered the city when everyone awoke.
“Wake up! Wake up! It’s Christmas!!” Jenny raced out of her room and battle-rammed Peter’s door.
Peter sighed and got off his window seat. He was taking a moment to enjoy the serene sight below but his twin had to blast it all to smithereens with her booming voice.
“I’m up.”
Jenny rolled her eyes as she turned to wake up Dillon. “Then get out here! We have presents to open!”
Throwing open Dillon’s door, Jenny bounced into her baby brother’s bed. “Wake up, sleepy bear!”
Dillon yawned and blinked tiredly. “What time is it?” he drawled.
“5:30! Now wake up! We have presents to open!”
Dillon groaned and tried to pull his covers over his head but Jenny was faster and pulled it right off.
“Up up up!!”
“Just wake up. She is not going to let off until you do. Trust me, I know,” Peter walked into the room and leaned over the side of the bed, gently rubbing Dillon’s head affectionately.
Dillon sighed, “Fine,” with a big yawn he stretched and threw his feet over the side of the bed.
Jenny smiled and started bossing her brothers around. “Peter, go wake up Grandma and Grandpa! Dillon, go wake up Mommy and Daddy!”
Dillon and Peter both sighed and walked out of the room. They knew better than to fight with their sister. She always had princess syndrome and over the years, the Farley men had spoiled her rotten.
When the whole family had assembled under the huge Christmas Tree, Jenny took her seat on the family patriarch’s lap.
Henry cuddled his favorite grandchild— though she was not related by blood, he had always wanted a daughter but couldn’t have one so Jenny was his way of living his dream.
“Ahem! We got to sleep in this year. Thank you, children,” Henry winked at Jenny, “So what do you say before you open the presents?”
“Thank you and Merry Christmas!!” The children chorused in unison.
“Alright, go get them!” Henry hugged Jenny before setting her down.
The children raced around the tree passing out presents.
“Mommy this one's for you from Daddy!”
“Dad, this one is from Mom.”
“Grandpa, yours!”
“Mine!”
“Mine!”
“Oh, this one is mine…”
As they passed the presents out the tree was slowly becoming bare on the bottom until only one was left.
Dillon picked it up. “It’s my present to Amara.
Amelia frowned, “What happened to the rest of Amara’s presents?”
Jenny shrugged her shoulders and looked away.
***
Amara laid on the floor looking up at the Christmas tree. She calmly watched the blinking kaleidoscope of festive colors; it was beautiful but lonely. She shifted her head to look at the grandfather clock— it was only six. The staff would be waking up soon but mommy and father won’t be up for another hour.
Amara sighed and sat up to sort the presents.
“What are you doing?”
Amara, startled by the sudden voice behind her, dropped the pink present in her hand. The unmistakable sound of breaking glass made Amara’s eyes widen in fear.
She turned slowly, eyes watery with guilt. “I… I…”
Dustin stared down at the pink package he got from Jenny just yesterday. Sticky liquid pooled under the wrapping paper staining it red and the sickly sweet smell of strawberries wafted up.
Dustin tsked and went to get a paper towel to mop up the mess before it got all over the place.
Amara stood stock still, tears streaming down her little face. Her lips quivered but she dared not cry. Father looked annoyed. She didn’t mean to break Jenny’s present. She picked up the hem of her new dress and placed the soaked package in the middle. She gingerly walked towards the kitchen to check if she could fix it.
When Dustin came back from the opposite entry point the first thing he noticed was that Amara was missing along with the ruined present. Dustin sighed and bent down to wipe up the rest of the liquid before it spread anywhere else. Amara probably went to throw the package in the kitchen trash. In retrospect, he probably should have comforted her and told her he would clean it up before he went to get a towel. He got back up and walked towards the kitchen with the dirty towel.
The moment he pushed the door open, he heard gasping sounds and constant thumping as if someone was pounding the ground. Fear gripped him and he ran around the kitchen island to find Amara clawing at her throat, thrashing on the floor in a frenzy, the front of her dress covered in blood.
Dustin’s eyes grew wide with horror.
He screamed.
- Writer
