Laney pulled the blankets up to her chin, staring at the ceiling. She nudged her husband.
“What is it?” Jackson said sleepily.
“What if this isn’t real?”
“What if Christmas isn’t real and tomorrow we’ll wake up to realise that there was never any baby called Jesus, and all of it is just… crimbo?”
“We’ll have to fall asleep first to wake up.”
“Jay, I’m serious,” she said, sitting up.
“Must we talk about this now?”
She prodded him with a pillow until he sat up.
“Fine, I’m up.”
“What if all of this is just a myth?”
“Great. Then Santa is real.”
“I’m serious, Jackson!”
“Why must you always have a crisis of faith in the middle of the night?” He peered at the bedside clock. “Darn it Laney, it’s two a.m. and I need to be in church by seven!”
“Jay, please,” she said, crying now.
“El, just go to sleep. You’ll wake up tomorrow thinking how stupid you were last night. You always do.” He held her close, her tears dripping down his bare chest.
“I know,” she whispered. “But sometimes it’s just too difficult to believe.”
I was trying to write something longer than this, but it seemed to me to be a perfect ending.
Hope I'm not boring you with this whole crimbo thing. It's just a series that is playing out in my head. Just about every year.
I'm trying to move on. Promise.