This is a short story from past Christmas time blog posts. Originally written in December of 2015 it was titled: The Next Part of the Story. I've done a fair bit of editing and revisioning of this story.
Moving Forward
“ I wish I could believe you.”
Estelle, Chantelle’s mother, insisted that she was quite happy, but Chantelle didn’t believe her. She had watched her always smiling and gentle mother live her life after her father died when Chantelle was 12 years old. There was still too much fanciful thinking in the way she approached most things, especially Christmas. Her mom still played dance music, volunteered at shelters and nursing homes. She especially seemed to love the Christmas parties, serving food and choosing dance partners from groups that could barely stand up, let alone glide and spin like their parents had. Her twin, Tanya, was not home for Christmas this year. They talked and worried a lot about their mom. Tanya didn’t worry that much and Chantelle was frustrated. Tanya would tell her to let their mom alone. “So she still with believes in magic at Christmas time? So what? Chantelle’s brothers were not getting home until Christmas morning. Neither Timothy nor Carter seemed to have the least bit of concern. All they talked about was their jobs in other cities. Chantelle, without any recent boyfriend, had arrived early and would be staying on with her mother past the New Year. It seemed so very sad sometimes that her mother believed in the magic of dance, even more so, at Christmas. Couldn’t she just face that her ‘beloved Oliver’ was gone. And for ten years! She didn’t have to keep living everything from the past.
Chantelle heard the front door and laughter. Her mother called out ‘Chantelle are you home? Come here I have someone I want you to meet.” Chantelle rolled her eyes. Not one of those people from the shelter. Her mother insisted on bringing home people, feeding them and letting them bathe. There was one woman and her little one that she let stay all one Christmas Eve and Christmas Day! Her mother was so very kind to so many others.
Chantelle had been curled up on the couch reading a mystery novel. Already in her bath robe and pyjama’s, she was hardly prepared to play host. All she wanted was an evening of quiet in front of the fireplace. Christmas lights and a reading lamp lit the living room softly. And now this interruption,
“Chantelle. This is Howard.You may have met him before.” Chantelle looked up and blushed. Her mother was introducing a very handsome, well dressed man who smiled broadly, his blue eyes bright and kind. She stuttered out something polite and ran quickly upstairs, calling down a loud whisper from the landing “Mother. Get up here! Who is this guy?”
“Excuse me, Howard. My daughter is calling. I’ll be right back and get us some hot tea.”
Isobel ran lightly up stairs as though she was still dancing. She sat down with her daughter, her own kind grey eyes lit up like they hadn’t been for years. “Howard and I have been working together at volunteer work for many years. Tonight we went walking in such beautiful crisp winter air, snow crunching beneath our feet and stars twinkling above. Just like your father and I, and just like Howard and his wife did apparently. We talked a lot about those married years. I’ve always known him as such a kind man, so good with everyone we work with. It was quite a surprise that after all these years, we really didn’t know very much about each other. We’ll be going dancing on New Year’s Eve. Now, please, get dressed and come meet him. You’ll like him.”
Her mom was so obviously excited that Chantelle just hugged her and said “Give me a minute and I’ll be down in a flash.”
“A sense of concern for others gives our lives meaning;
it is the root of all human happiness.”
~ Dalai Lama
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