All I Want For Christmas Is You

Two

The warmth of the apartment wrapped around us as Kelvin and I stepped inside, the faint smell of lavender cleaner mingling with the remnants of grilled cheese from earlier. I set my keys on the counter, shrugged off my coat, and turned to my son. He was already halfway across the room, his school bag dragging limply behind him like he carried the weight of the world in it.

“Kelvin,” I called gently, waiting until he stopped by the doorway to his room. “What happened at school today?”

He froze, his little shoulders tensing. For a moment, I thought he might turn around and answer me, but instead, he just shrugged.

“Nothing,” he said, his voice flat and distant.

“Kelvin,” I tried again, stepping closer, but he didn’t look at me.

“I’m fine, Mom,” he mumbled, pushing his door open and slipping inside before I could press him further. The soft click of the door shutting felt louder than it should have, leaving an ache in my chest.

I stared at his door for a long moment, debating whether to follow him or give him space. Eventually, I sighed and moved to the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cabinet. I filled it with water and leaned against the counter, the silence of the apartment weighing on me.

Before I could let my mind spiral, the sharp sound of the doorbell broke through. I set the glass down and made my way to the door, smoothing my hair as I went. When I opened it, I was greeted by a familiar face and an armful of beer.

“Surprise!” Lisa said, grinning as she held up the case of beer like it was a trophy. “I brought the good stuff.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Lisa, what are you—”

She brushed past me, kicking the door shut behind her with the heel of her boot. “What am I doing? I’m saving your boring evening, that’s what. We’re both finally off work at the same time, and I’m not letting this rare moment go to waste.”

I folded my arms, giving her a pointed look. “And you thought beer was the way to celebrate?”

Lisa grinned, plopping the case on the counter. “You’re welcome.”

I couldn’t help but smile despite myself.

Lisa had been my best friend since high school, back when things were simpler she moved in senior year but we reconnected two years ago. She was a nurse now, and I worked at a fertility clinic down the road. Between her twelve-hour shifts and my unpredictable schedule at the senior home, it was rare for us to get a moment like this.

“I only got leave because Mrs. Winters is going to spend Christmas with her family,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Otherwise, you know I’d still be working.”

Lisa grabbed two bottles from the case, twisting the caps off with practiced ease. She handed me one, her smile faltering as she looked closer at my face. “Okay, spill. What’s wrong?”

I sighed, cradling the cold bottle in my hands.

“Kelvin had a bad day at school. He won’t tell me what happened, but he looked so upset.”

Lisa frowned, her nurse instincts kicking in. “Did he say anything at all?”

“Only that it was ‘nothing.’ But you know how he is—he keeps things bottled up until he can’t anymore.”

Lisa took a sip of her beer, her brow furrowing. “Want me to talk to him?”

I hesitated. “You don’t have to—”

“Vennessa,” she interrupted, setting her bottle down firmly. “You’re practically my sister, and that makes Kelvin my honorary nephew. Let me see if I can get him to open up.”

I sighed, nodding. “Okay. Thanks, lisa.”

She gave me a reassuring smile and made her way to Kelvin’s room. I watched her knock softly on his door before stepping inside.

Left alone in the kitchen, I took a sip of my beer, the cool bitterness a welcome distraction. I leaned against the counter, listening to the faint murmur of their voices from the other room. Lisa had always had a way with kids—something about her no-nonsense attitude mixed with genuine warmth.

I decided to take advantage of the quiet moment. I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the hot water steam up the small space. The day clung to me like a heavy coat, and as I peeled off my scrubs, I felt the exhaustion sink into my bones.

The shower was a relief, washing away the tension, though my mind stayed restless. The worries about Kelvin wouldn’t let go, and no amount of lavender soap or warm water could rinse them away. I dried off, slipped into a pair of soft pajamas, and tied my damp hair into a loose bun.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, the sound of laughter pulled me toward the living room. There, Lisa sat cross-legged on the floor, her face animated with concentration as she held a video game controller. Beside her, Kelvin was grinning, his small fingers mashing buttons furiously.

“Ha! Got you!” Lisa cried as her on-screen character did some kind of flip and knocked Kelvin’s character off the edge of a cliff.

“No fair!” Kelvin groaned, but his grin never faded.

My heart swelled at the sight. For the first time that day, Kelvin looked like the carefree eight-year-old he should be.

“Having fun, you two?” I asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Mom!” Kelvin turned, his eyes lighting up. “Auntie Lisa is cheating!”

Lisa scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder in mock indignation. “Excuse me? Just because I’m a superior gamer doesn’t mean I’m cheating.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Well, as long as you’re not breaking my controllers, carry on.”

Kelvin laughed, the sound filling the room like music, and I couldn’t help but smile.

While they continued their game, I moved into the kitchen to start dinner. I pulled out the ingredients for spaghetti, letting the comforting routine of chopping onions and stirring sauce settle my nerves. From the corner of my eye, I caught glimpses of lisa and Kelvin, their laughter weaving into the hum of the evening.

“Kelvin go and wash up dinner will be ready soon”, I yelled and they paused the game lisa told Kelvin he stunk and he should shower.

“Well?” I asked as she walked into the kitchen.

She gave me a small smile. “He told me what happened, but I think it’s something he needs to share with you himself.”

I frowned, worry gnawing at me. “Is it bad?”

Lisa hesitated, then shook her head. “It’s not the end of the world, but it’s big to him. Be patient, Vennessa. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I just hate seeing him like this.”

“I know,” she said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “But he’s got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re doing great, you know that, right?”

I gave her a wry smile. “Tell that to the pile of laundry I haven’t touched in a week.”

Lisa laughed, grabbing her beer. “Laundry can wait. Right now, we’re going to sit down, drink these beers, and watch something trashy on TV like we used to in high school.”

I chuckled, grateful for her lightheartedness. “Fine, but you’re picking. I’m too tired to argue.”

When dinner was ready, I called them over, setting steaming plates of spaghetti on the table. Lisa plopped down in her usual seat, and Kelvin climbed into his chair, already twirling his fork in the noodles.

We ate in relative quiet at first, the warmth of the meal and the company creating a bubble of peace. But as I watched Kelvin, the earlier tension in my chest returned. He was smiling, but there was a heaviness in his eyes—a shadow that didn’t belong on a boy his age.

I set my fork down and cleared my throat. “Kelvin,” I started gently, “do you want to tell me what happened at school today?”

He froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. For a moment, he didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the spaghetti. Lisa, sensing the change in mood, put her fork down too, her eyes flicking between us.

“It’s nothing,” Kelvin said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Kelvin,” I pressed, keeping my tone soft but firm. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

He hesitated, his little hands fidgeting with his fork. Finally, he looked up at me, and my heart broke at the tears welling in his eyes.

“We’re doing a play,” he said, his voice trembling. “For Christmas. It’s about baby Jesus and Mary and Joseph.”

I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“I wanted to be Joseph,” he said, his words spilling out in a rush. “I auditioned, and I thought I did really good. But some of the boys—they started laughing at me.”

Lisa and I exchanged a glance, the air around us growing heavier.

“They said—” Kelvin’s voice cracked, and he wiped at his eyes angrily. “They said I couldn’t be Joseph because I don’t even know how to be a father. Because I don’t have one.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. I felt the breath leave my lungs, and across the table, lisa’s face fell. Kelvin was crying now, his little shoulders shaking as he tried to stifle the sobs.

“Oh, baby,” I whispered, standing up and moving to his side. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close.

He clung to me, his tears soaking into my shirt. “Mom,” he choked out, his voice broken. “All I want for Christmas is to see my dad. Please, Mom. Can I see him? Just once?”

The room felt impossibly still, the weight of his words hanging in the air. I held him tighter, my own tears threatening to spill.

I had no words, no answers that would make this better. All I could do was hold him and pray that I’d find a way to give him what he needed. Because at that moment, I realized that no matter how hard I’d tried to be everything for him, there was still a part of him that ached for something—or someone—I couldn’t replace.

Lisa stayed quiet, giving us the space we needed. Eventually, Kelvin’s sobs quieted, and he sniffled against my shoulder. I rubbed his back gently, whispering soothing words until he pulled away, his face red and blotchy.

“Why don’t you change into your pajamas we can watch some TV and get ready for bed?” I suggested softly.

He nodded, his movements sluggish as he slid off his chair and trudged to his room.

Once he was out of earshot, I turned to Lisa. Her expression mirrored the storm of emotions swirling in my chest—sadness, anger, and something close to helplessness.

“What am I supposed to do?” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Lisa reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “You’ll figure it out, Vennessa. You always do.”

Her words were meant to comfort, but they felt hollow. Because for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if I could.

Later That Night, We sat on the couch watching a cheesy holiday rom-com, Kelvin had long fallen asleep between us blanket wrapped around him. The TV was on, but neither of us was watching it. My mind was too busy replaying Kelvin’s words, the raw pain in his voice cutting deeper with every memory.

“You’ve been doing this on your own for so long,” Lisa said after a long silence. “You’ve given him so much, Vennessa. But maybe…maybe it’s time to let Adrian know.”

The mention of his name sent a shiver down my spine. Adrian. The boy who’d left without looking back. The boy who’d gone on to live his dream while I stayed behind to raise our son alone.

“He doesn’t deserve to know Kelvin,” I said quietly, bitterness creeping into my voice.

“No, he doesn’t,” Lisa agreed. “But this isn’t about him, Vennessa. It’s about Kelvin. And right now, that boy wants his dad. Maybe Adrian doesn’t deserve a chance, but Kelvin does.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

I stared at the TV, the bright colors and cheerful sounds mocking the turmoil inside me. I wanted to argue, to insist that I could shield Kelvin from the pain of rejection. But deep down, I knew Lisa was right.

Kelvin deserved the chance to know his father, even if it terrified me to let that door open again.

As I sat there, the weight of the decision pressing down on me, one thought echoed in my mind: For Kelvin, I’d do anything. Even this.