A Christmas written in blood

THIRD PERSON'S POV It was a few days until Christmas. The snow was heavy, the streets were noisy, and the shops were crowded. The feeling of love and giving was already in the air even though it wasn’t Christmas yet. The smiles on people’s faces were bigger and laughter was louder. Inside the small bookshop, Aveline stood still behind the counter, watching the world celebrate without her. “Earth to Aveline!” the woman screamed in Aveline’s face, drawing her back to the present. “Sorry, I am sorry. What were you saying?” she asked as she looked away from the lovely couple with their kids she had been watching across the street. “What were you looking at so intently?” the woman asked, leaning over the counter to look out the window. “It’s nothing,” Aveline quickly replied as she slightly blocked her. The woman hissed and backed away. “You have always been clumsy. Well, hand me my change for what I bought; let me be out of here,” she said angrily. Quickly, Aveline did as she was asked and handed the money to her. “I would never understand why her mother gave her such a beautiful name,” the lady muttered in annoyance as she walked out. Aveline shook her head quietly. She had so much to say to the woman, but she knew better than to. “What’s the meaning of your name?” a voice asked suddenly. Aveline turned sharply to her right to see a heavily pregnant lady. “What’s the meaning? Your name, I mean,” the lady asked again. “Aveline,” she muttered. “It means hazelnut tree. It symbolises protection and fertility,” Aveline replied. “That’s beautiful,” the lady smiled. She gently rubbed her baby bump. “It’s one of the names my husband picked out for our child, and I love it. Although I don’t know if I will pick it eventually,” she chuckled. “But I just wanted to remind you that it’s a beautiful name, and if your mother picked it for you, then she means the best for you. Not all trees bear fruit and become beautiful immediately. Some take their time, but eventually they bloom beautifully.” Aveline wanted to tell her that maybe her foster mother didn’t even know the meaning of the name before giving it to her. But she just sighed and bent her head. “Your time will come too. Merry Christmas,” the lady smiled as she pushed a book toward Aveline. “What for?” Aveline asked. “It’s your Christmas gift. “I won’t be back again before Christmas, so I am giving it early,” the lady replied. “My child has become more active since I started reading her books I got from your bookshop. And she is even more alive when I am here. I think she likes it here. So this is me saying thank you,” she said softly. Aveline froze for a brief moment and slowly drew the book close to her. “Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice cracking at the end as she held back her tears. The lady nodded with a smile and walked out. Now alone in the empty store, Aveline almost broke down in tears. No one had ever gifted her anything for Christmas before. It wasn’t a celebration she looked forward to because it only reminded her how inadequate her life was compared to others who had a family. For the rest of the day, she sat by the window watching different families shop for the holiday and enjoy the snow together, something she had never had and probably never would. As night came, she returned home. She was greeted with the sweet aroma of onion soup. As usual, it was left out on the table and covered with a cloche. From the aroma in the house, she could tell that the food had just been brought down and dished. Aveline looked at the food and sighed deeply. This was a warm gesture, yet it brought no warmth to her heart. “Why leave me a hot meal every day if that is all you will do?” she muttered under her breath. Reluctantly, she removed the cloche and sat down to eat. If there was one thing that wasn’t acceptable in the house, it was wasting a warm meal. As always, the hot meal warmed her stomach but not her heart. Even a well-cooked meal could not fill the void in her heart. She made her way to her room after the meal, but as she held on to the handle of the door, she hesitated to go in. The words of the lady she had met earlier in the day played on her mind. “I just wanted to remind you that it’s a beautiful name and if your mother picked it for you then she means the best for you,” the woman had said. “Maybe if I make the effort, she may open up a bit more to me,” Aveline thought to herself. Slowly, she turned around and made her way to her foster mother’s room. She raised her hand and knocked before she could hesitate and change her mind. The silence stretched for a while before she heard the familiar voice answer. “Come in.” Slowly, Aveline pushed the door open and was immediately greeted by the familiar scent of her foster mother’s lavender and old wood soap, a scent that had remained the same since she had known her. Her foster mother watched her keenly. It was clear to Aveline that her mother was surprised that she was in her room. And now that she was here, she didn’t know what to say. She fidgeted with her fingers, moving from one foot to the other. “Have you eaten?” her mother asked, trying to ease the tension. “Yes, thank you for the meal,” Aveline replied. Her mother waited, but Aveline said nothing else. “If you came here, then you must have something to say…” she trailed off. “Yes, errmm,” Aveline stuttered. She breathed in deeply and released it, reminding herself that she had to do this. “I was hoping that we could spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning together,” she said quickly. Mrs Ann’s eyebrows raised, but she said nothing and just continued to watch her. “We have never spent Christmas together like every other family,” Aveline added quietly. “I want to experience it this time. We could cook. No, I can do the cooking and the cleaning. Actually, I will do everything myself. You just need to be here with me,” she rambled on. “I am busy with work. I committed to taking some shifts. I can’t disappoint,” Mrs Ann replied and turned away. “It’s just one night. Just Christmas night. You never take any days off, so I am certain they will be willing to give you this one day off. Please,” Aveline added weakly. “I can’t,” she replied. “I need to rest now.” She climbed into bed. It wasn’t expressly said, but Aveline knew that was the end of the discussion. Heartbroken, she turned and left the room. “What was I expecting?” she muttered as she closed the door. As she closed the door to her room softly behind her, the house felt colder than before. She stood there for a moment, staring into space. She pressed a hand to her face and exhaled shakily before pulling out her phone. She hesitated, then dialled. It rang twice before he picked up. “Hey,” his voice came through, warm and familiar. That was all it took. Her words spilt out in broken fragments. The shop, Christmas, and the door that had closed in her face again. She did not say much, yet somehow he understood everything. There was silence on the line for a moment. “If you do not want to spend Christmas alone, then you won’t,” he said firmly. “Come to my family’s home. Let’s do Réveillon de Noël together.” Her breath caught. “Are you sure?” she whispered, scared that she had heard wrongly. “I am,” he replied without hesitation. Tears blurred her vision, but her chest felt lighter. “Thank you,” she said softly. When the call ended, Aveline remained still, the phone pressed to her chest. “Finally, I get to experience Réveillon de Noël. Finally, my Christmas wish for all these years has been answered,” she whispered into the empty room with a little smile on her face. Finally, it felt like life wasn’t so heavy anymore, and there was hope lurking around, ready to embrace her fully.