Alien Holiday by Tracy Lauren

Chapter 20

Lo

It’s the first night that’s the worst, I tell myself, sitting on a rug in front of my fireplace. I’m staring up at my Christmas tree admiring the lights, mug of ceata cooling in my hand. “The lights are a nice touch,” I say to my empty room.

My brother and sisters and I used to do this after the tree was decorated—sit up late into the night admiring our work. We’d talk too, about past Christmases. Antonio would remind my mother of all her cooking blunders over the years and we’d laugh so hard we’d cry. They were rare, but when they happened they were royal disasters. Like the time she tried to make geletina de leche in the shape of a Santa hat and it ended up looking like a big bloody poop. It was horrific and we nearly died laughing that day.

Yesenia and Veronica would talk about all the worst gifts they had ever gotten. Like the ugly sweaters sent from Tía Lucia. She made them herself—the woman had talent, just zero sense of style. One year they legitimately had clowns on them. Matching clown sweaters for the whole family—each with their own expressions. We had to wonder why Lucia chose those expressions…tears and sadness for my mom, a jolly laughing one for my brother, a constipated clown for Veronica—at least that’s what Antonio always said hers looked like…a clown that couldn’t poop.

I purse my lips and wipe away a tear. I wanted to tell Resa about it all. I wanted it to be like it was then. I have the rest of the village, I know. I can talk to them, they are my family—but they’re like brothers, sisters, cousins…and I think I’m at a stage of my life where I need something more…something deeper and more intimate. I need a partner.

I feel like a fool. I was caught up in a dream, tricking myself into thinking Resa was going to fill that void. I don’t know what it was. I tug my hair back from my face and take a deep breath. He just fit for me, like the missing piece of a puzzle. It didn’t take any thought or planning, it was natural…the way family always is. I assumed he felt it too—that we were on the same page. Turns out it’s just Christmas time and I’m lonely.

I made a mess of this and it was probably unfair for me to upset his life. I can’t go back—and I can’t tell anyone about him. I just have to forget. Like I’ve had to forget all of my hopes and dreams, all my plans for the future…all the expectations I had for life. The past year and a half have been nothing but a constant reminder that the universe doesn’t give two fucks about me or the expectations I have.

I’ve got one thing though, my memories, and those I hold dear to my heart. I wanted to share them with Resa, but he didn’t feel the same. So, I’ll do the only thing I have left. I’ll celebrate them on my own.

Outside there’s singing. It’s not “Donde Esta Santa Claus,” but it’s “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer,” and that makes me snort laugh as I wipe away my stray tears.

“Come one, Lo, you aren’t alone. Stop acting like you are.” I shake off my sadness as much as I can and grab my next gift for Gabby—a beautiful blue mug, loose ceata, and a diffuser, all tucked into a cloth gift bag with swirls of silver on it that remind me of snow.

It’s Christmas, damn it. No more sulking, even if I did leave another piece of my broken heart up there on Grinch mountain. I’m about to teach these bitches “Donde Esta Santa Claus.”