A Just Right Christmas
A contemporary short story about a new mom
The jaunty tune of “Sleigh Ride” filled the living room, as well as red cardboard boxes with patterned lids and a nearly bare Christmas tree. The warm smell of gingerbread wafted through the house, and outside in the cold, snow fell gently. It really was beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
But all Paisley wanted to do was cry.
She had wanted to put the gingerbread her mother-in-law dropped off in the freezer so their family could eat it a little closer to Christmas, but their Great Dane Lando had other ideas. Broken and half-eaten cookies scattered the kitchen floor. The monstrous dog was locked away in the den.
The Cookie Disaster had occurred right after Paisley’s 10-month-old scooted across the living room, grabbed the lowest limb of the tree, and shook it with a raucous giggle, knocking down and breaking one of Paisley’s favourite ornaments. Baby Carson was entrapped in the pack n’ play.
And that had been preceded by an unusual blowout that cut both Paisley and Carson’s naps short. It was shaping up to be a tedious afternoon filled with Paisley putting out fires rather than creating magical Christmas memories.
***
Estimated delivery date: December 23.
Package received at mailing facility: 4:23 pm 12/11/24
Shipping label created: 5:32 pm 12/11/24
***
Travis groaned as the elevator doors to the mall opened. “It’s so busy here.”
Paisley pushed the stroller out of the elevator and into the chaos of the mall. “I wanted to leave sooner.”
“I know,” Travis replied, dejectedly.
They wound through the crowd of weekend shoppers towards the atrium. It was two weekends before Christmas, and it showed. Paisley rarely saw the mall so busy. She could barely hear the Christmas music playing over the rumble of talking and walking. Giant cardboard snowflakes hung from the ceiling, garland lined the balconies, and lights were strung up over the store entryways. The scent of sugar cookies assaulted Paisley as they walked past the soap shop.
“Oh no,” Travis said with another groan.
“What?” said Paisley, unable to mask the tinge of annoyance in her voice.
“Look.”
Santa was seated on a massive green velvet throne surrounded by Christmas trees and unnecessarily large nutcrackers. A child sat on his knee, smiling for a picture. And there was a line of fifty families waiting for their turn with Santa.
“This will take at least an hour,” Travis said. “Maybe two.”
“Well, we’re here and Carson’s dressed, so we’re doing this now,” Paisley grumbled, striding to the end of the line. “Do you have any shopping you need to do?”
“No, I’ll stay here with you two.”
They were not the only family to feel the sourness of waiting to visit Santa. Paisley heard a mother threaten her child with no Santa photo if she didn’t stop whining. One boy who looked to be eight or nine years old moaned, “This is dumb. I don’t want a photo with Santa!” Neither, apparently, did the screaming three-year-old currently sitting on Santa’s knee.
By the time Paisley and her family reached the front of the line 90 minutes later, Travis had gone for two walks around the mall, Carson had been fussing and crying for forty-five minutes, and Paisley was barely holding it together.
“Next up!”
A false smile found its way onto Paisley’s face as she stepped forward with Carson in her arms; he refused to sit in his stroller any longer.
“One child?” The woman behind the counter was dressed up as Mrs. Claus, complete with a white wig and golden glasses. “Which photo package would you like to purchase?”
“Package C, please,” Paisley answered, hoisting Carson higher on her hip.
Travis bent over to read the sign that listed the different photo packages. “Do we really need that many?”
“My sisters asked for copies.”
“Couldn’t we just send them a copy?”
“Travis,” Paisley said, trying to keep her voice as light as possible, “I checked the website two days ago to decide which package would be best. Please, let it go?”
“Yes. Fine,” Travis mumbled. The woman dressed as Mrs. Claus asked for payment and unlatched the velvet rope barrier to let them through.
The photographer, a man dressed as an elf, stepped forward. “Did you two want to be in the photo as well?”
Paisley was already sticky with sweat and felt flush from wearing her winter coat for so long. “Oh, I hadn’t really planned to.”
“I think that would be nice,” Travis said, earnestly.
“Um, sure.” Paisley and Travis removed their coats and laid them on a bench that was set to the side. Carson continued to fidget and fuss.
The photographer said, “It’s up to you if you want Santa or yourself to hold Baby.”
“If he’ll let Santa,” Paisley responded. She could feel her nerves growing as she walked over to Santa in his chair. Two more chairs were produced and set on either side of Santa.
As if he knew what was about to happen, Carson clutched Paisley tighter and buried his face in her chest.
“Just one quick photo, okay, sweetie?” Paisley whispered to him. Her voice shook. She gingerly handed him over to Santa, who smiled gently at her and said, “I remember when my girls were this age.”
Carson wailed and reached for Paisley as Santa set him on his knee. Paisley sat in one of the chairs next to Santa and tried to hold Carson’s hand. The photographer waved a set of jingle bells in the air as he peered through his camera. Paisley tried to smile, but it felt foreign on her face, so she closed her lips and tried her best to look pleasant.
The bells crashed against each other. Carson continued to cry. The photographer shouted, “Look at me!” The mall buzzed with music and voices.
“Does Mom want to hold Baby?” the photographer finally asked, standing upright.
Paisley took Carson from Santa, feeling embarrassed at wasting everyone’s time, but Carson immediately hushed and snuggled in close. Paisley cradled the back of his head with her hand.
The photographer went back to waving the bells, trying to grab Carson’s attention. A small, false smile spread Paisley’s lips.
“Alright, thanks, everybody.” The photographer motioned to the side. “Your photos will be waiting for you outside the barrier.”
Paisley muttered her thanks to Santa and the photographer as Travis grabbed the stroller, and they exited Santa’s village.
Travis took an envelope from an employee, removed a page from inside, and looked at the photo. “Hey, it’s not bad! Take a look.”
“I don’t want to,” Paisley said, bouncing and rocking Carson. “Let’s go home.”
***
Estimated delivery date: December 23.
Package received at mailing facility: 4:23 pm 12/11/24
Shipping label created: 5:32 pm 12/11/24
Package departed mailing facility: 9:06 am 12/17/24
Paisley breathed a sigh of relief. Carson’s gift would arrive on time.
***
“You look beautiful, by the way.”
Travis took Paisley’s mittened hand in his own, making her pause on the front steps to turn. Her lips curled into a smile. She had spent a good hour and a half curling her hair and putting on the most makeup she’d worn since Carson was born. None of her old dresses fit anymore, so she’d acknowledged her post-baby body and bought something new.
“Thanks, babe,” Paisley said, suddenly feeling just a little like her old self. She squeezed Travis’ hand, led them up the remaining steps to the house, and rang the doorbell.
The door opened. “Come in, come in!” exclaimed the hostess. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
Paisley and Travis were ushered inside, and their coats were swept away to a bedroom. The house was crowded with people wearing an assortment of tacky and stylish Christmas sweaters. Multi-coloured lights were strung up on curtain rods, on side tables, and over doorways. Paisley could just hear Michael Buble’s Christmas album playing.
A man peeked out from the kitchen doorway. “Paisley! Travis! Come grab a drink in here! I’ll help you.”
“I guess I can have just one drink,” Paisley muttered to Travis.
“You’re not nursing Carson tonight, Pais,” Travis replied. “You can have a couple if you want. I can drive.”
“Maybe I should check in with my mom and see if he’s eating okay.”
“But we just got here. Your mom’s been with him for only twenty minutes.”
But Paisley was already digging through her purse for her phone. “I’ll be super quick.”
After having established with her mom that Carson was, in fact, eating his supper, Paisley emerged from the hallway into the living room where Travis was talking to a couple friends of theirs.
“Do you know if you’re going back to work?” one of their friends asked Paisley.
“I’m staying at home for a while longer. Not sure when I’ll go back.”
“Did you guys see that new movie with Brandon Howarth?” someone asked.
“We haven’t been to the movies for a while.”
“Can I show you my kid’s Santa photo?” A phone was shoved into Paisley’s face. “We just went this afternoon.”
“How was the line?” asked Travis. “We waited two hours!”
Paisley’s fingers unzipped her purse. “Excuse me, just a moment.” She started for the hallway.
Travis gave her a puzzled look. “Where are you going?” His eyes flitted to the phone that was now in Paisley’s hand.
“I’ll be right back.”
In the quietness of the hallway, Paisley called her mom once again. Yes, Carson was fine. Yes, he had some milk. Yes, the milk was thawed in a bowl of water and not in the microwave. Yes, they were putting on pjs now.
“He’s doing great, Paisley,” her mom said. “He’s learning how to function with people besides his mom, and that’s good. You should have fun. That would be good, too.”
Her mom was right. Paisley knew that.
She went into the kitchen to make herself a glass of water and got looped into a conversation about the current union strike. To her surprise, the next time Paisley checked her phone for the time, she realized a half hour had passed.
Normally, Carson would be asleep by now. Paisley retreated to the hallway again.
She was about to hit the call button when Travis came looking for her and said, “Pais, what are you doing?”
She felt caught, like a child with their hand in the cookie jar. “I just want to see how bedtime went.”
“I’m sure it went fine. I wish you would let yourself enjoy the party.”
“I just had a whole conversation for a half hour.”
“And that’s a great start. Why don’t you go have another?”
“I’m allowed to check on our son, Travis.”
Travis stared for a moment at Paisley. “Then let me call your mom this time. You go have fun.”
Paisley’s insides twisted. “That’s not necessary. But thank you.”
“No, it’s my turn to do a check-in. I’ll call and let you know if there’s any news.” He placed a hand on Paisley’s back and put some pressure there to move her back towards the party.
“I can do it myself,” Paisley said, turning so Travis’ hand was no longer on her back.
“But we should tag-team this. You know, as a parenting team,” Travis argued.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but please stop.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Are you?” Paisley couldn’t help but raise her voice a little. “It doesn’t feel like that.”
Travis’ voice was hushed. “Aren’t I allowed to check on our son, too?”
“Fine,” Paisley snapped. “Do what you want.” She stormed to the front door, yanked her boots on, and went outside.
As the cold hit her, Paisley immediately wished she could go back inside, but her pride wouldn’t let her. She settled with pacing up and down the front path, her arms wrapped around herself.
A few minutes later, the front door opened. It was Travis. He was wearing his coat and had Paisley’s in his hands. He slowly walked up to Paisley and passed her coat to her.
“Your mom says bedtime went smoothly,” he said softly. “Do you want to talk?”
“I want to go home,” Paisley replied.
“Carson’s sleeping.”
“I’m just tired, Travis. Please.”
Travis nodded, and the pair of them got into the car and drove home.
***
Estimated delivery date: December 23.
Package received at mailing facility: 4:23 pm 12/11/24
Shipping label created: 5:32 pm 12/11/24
Package departed mailing facility: 9:06 am 12/17/24
Package arrived at sorting facility: 2:16 am 12/18/24
Carson’s present had been sitting at the sorting facility for six days. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve.
***
Travis came down the stairs with a sigh. “Well, Carson’s asleep.” He collapsed onto the couch next to the dog, who gave him a droopy eyed glare before resting his head again. “Are we ready for tomorrow?”
“No,” Paisley replied, sharply. She was sitting on the floor packing small toys and snacks into Carson’s Christmas stocking. At least he would have those, and his gift from Santa. Her body buzzed with frustration.
“What else is there to do? Stockings, presents under the tree…”
Paisley didn’t hear anything else her husband said. It was 8:30 pm on Christmas Eve. Carson’s present would not arrive in time for Christmas. She had failed.
She stopped what she was doing and began to cry, her shoulders shaking, her head bowed, sloppy tears dripping down her cheeks.
Travis’ arms wrapped around her. Paisley leaned into his body and closed her eyes. She was still crying, but the violence of it all had softened.
“What’s going on?” Travis asked in a quiet voice.
“Carson’s present from us didn’t make it. I didn’t order it early enough. Now he won’t have anything to open from us on Christmas.”
“Oh, that’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” Paisley sat up so she could look at Travis. “I messed up. I feel like I keep messing up Christmas and it’s Carson’s first and I want it to be perfect.”
“Pais,” Travis said seriously. “There’s no such thing as a perfect Christmas. Isn’t that what every Christmas movie is about?”
Paisley sniffed and mumbled, “Maybe.”
“And Carson doesn’t know anything about Christmas or presents or whatever,” Travis continued. “You know what he cares about?”
“What?”
Travis untangled himself from around Paisley and stood up. He went to the kitchen and looked at the fridge. “Where did you put the Santa photo?”
Another reminder of how Paisley had messed up this year. “It’s in the drawer.”
Travis opened their junk drawer. Paisley knew the envelope was sitting on top of the clutter, the pictures inside untrimmed and unsent. Travis grabbed the envelope and sat down next to Paisley. He pulled the thick photo paper out and held it so Paisley could look at the largest print of their photo.
“Carson cares most about being with his favourite person in the world.”
Paisley allowed herself to look at the photo for the first time. Santa was looking jolly in his throne. Travis sat to one side, smiling into the camera. Paisley was sitting on the opposite side, her lips thin and tight, a little bit of panic showing in her eyes. Carson was snuggled up against her neck, looking at the camera with curiosity. He clung to Paisley’s shirt with one hand, and the other grabbed hold of her fingers.
“It’s not as bad as I thought it was,” Paisley murmured.
“You made it better,” Travis replied. “Carson will have a great Christmas because you’re there.”
“And you, too,” Paisley added.
“Well, I know that, but I’m not the one having a Christmas Eve meltdown.”
Paisley chuckled gently. “I’ve been having a few meltdowns.”
“That’s okay.”
“And who knows,” Paisley said. “Maybe you’ll mess up Christmas next year.”
“We’ll both have plenty of years to mess up Christmas together.”
They shared a soft kiss. Paisley whispered, “Thanks, babe.” Travis smiled at her. “Should we have some eggnog?” she asked.
“Let’s ‘nog!”
Paisley stood up from the floor and went to the kitchen. Before grabbing the eggnog, though, she found a free magnet and stuck their Santa photo to the fridge. It wasn’t perfect like she had hoped it would be, but it was just right.