TWENTY NADIA

T WENTY

N ADIA

When it was time to decorate for Christmas, Kiran had recruited the neighbors to help. He had even offered to help them decorate if need be. This time, Nadia was prepared and turned it into an event of sorts. In exchange for their help, Nadia served lunch, as well as hot cocoa, some alcoholic drinks, and snacks. She played holiday music, started a fire in the fireplace (even though she wasn't used to doing so), and put on a Santa hat, despite lacking any spirit.

Every day she woke up, she tried. She tried to live the way she and Rafe had or the way she thought he would want her to. Mostly because of the girls. She greeted them with a soft smile and tried to act as if everything had been the same. She showered them with love, even though she felt wholly unloved herself, despite the fact she knew the girls loved her. While a child's love was unconditional—it was dependent and naive and came with a feeling of wanting protection from the world—the love from a partner was different. It was all consuming, it was breathtaking, it was butterflies in the middle of the night and morning and a rush of excitement when you received a simple text message or an "I love you." That was how she'd felt with Rafe, and now ... well, now she felt like she had nothing. The holidays only exacerbated those feelings.

Holiday cards arrived at the house, addressed to her only. The first time one arrived, she'd cried for hours. Rafe had been erased from everyone's mind. Gone and forgotten. She yearned to see his name next to hers, just one more time. And when that card arrived, from someone who hadn't heard of Rafe's passing, she'd spent the day crying. Nadia couldn't win.

Nadia had zero desire to celebrate the holidays, and if it wasn't for Hazel and Kiran, she probably would've forgotten to shop. Her standby excuse was "I'll do it tomorrow." Halloween had been simple. Seeing the girls dress up with Kiran was fun and entertaining. But now, the pain from losing Rafe felt like a ton of bricks on her chest, and she couldn't seem to move them. No matter what she did.

Hazel refused to let Nadia dwell or sit in a puddle of sorrow. She insisted they shop on the weekends, employing her younger sister to watch the girls. She'd drive Nadia to the mall, make lists of things the girls had mentioned when she picked them up after school, and force Nadia to be present. "It's for the girls, not you," Hazel told her repeatedly.

At times, Nadia wanted to disown her friend, yet she was the one who picked up her phone whenever Nadia called and was always the first one to come over when things teetered on the edge of unbearable.

And then there was Kiran. He was there; even on the days when she didn't want company, he was there, making his presence known. Kiran seemed to have a sixth sense, knowing when Nadia needed a break. He took the girls shopping so they could buy their mom presents, made sure the house had been winterized, swapped Nadia's summer tires for snow tires, and came over to shovel the pathway when it snowed. He did everything Rafe would've done, and he did it without complaint or a phone call asking for help. When Saturday and Sunday rolled around, he was there, having dinner, just as he had in the previous months. Kiran wasn't going anywhere.

The one aspect of life Nadia had trouble with was her in-laws. Otto was fabulous, coming around on the weekends to see if Kiran needed help. Cleo, on the other hand, was absent. She had every excuse in the book to avoid coming to the house. Nadia understood, to an extent; the house was Rafe. He'd left his mark everywhere, but the children missed their grandmother, and even though they went to their grandparents' place, Nadia felt slighted by Cleo.

Nadia looked out the kitchen window, pausing while washing a pot left over from homemade mac 'n' cheese. A cardinal sat on the tree, staring at her. At least that's what it seemed like. If she tilted her head, the cardinal did as well. She'd heard (and seen on the numerous sympathy cards) about cardinals being messengers from passed-on loved ones. Prior to losing Rafe, she never would've bought into anything of the sort, but lately, she'd even contemplated visiting a medium. She'd watched enough shows and had seen the reaction of people who'd heard from someone they missed, and she desperately missed Rafe. With those thoughts, fear set in. What if he didn't come through to her; then what would she do?

Hazel told her to stay far away from mediums, for the time being. Nadia needed to heal, to start her life anew, and to move on from Rafe. Those words stung Nadia deeply. At the end of October, she'd sort of thought she could begin to move on, but then Thanksgiving happened, and her brand-new dining room table Rafe had insisted on buying sat empty. Nadia and the girls had taken the train to see her parents in Maryland. Her depression returned with a crushing force.

She couldn't imagine loving anyone other than Rafe for the rest of her life. Deep down, she wasn't angry at Hazel for being honest, but at the situation. Healing would take time, according to the therapist. As would moving on. There wasn't a set timeline of when a spouse had to accomplish anything, other than living. That's what was important. Rafe would want Nadia to live, just as they had been.

She went back to washing the pot and tried to ignore the bird. When she looked up again, he was closer to the window. The branch he was perched on wasn't strong enough to hold a bird, or so she thought. Nadia dried her hands, picked up her phone, researched what cardinals liked to eat, and then ordered everything—including the window bird feeder that would safely bring birds into her home. If the cardinal was Rafe, in some roundabout way, then she'd do whatever she could to take care of him.

When she looked out the window again, the bird was gone. Her heart missed a beat, and a wave of sadness washed over her. She'd bring this up at her next appointment; she'd ask her therapist if she was delusional or if messages from the beyond really did exist. She needed to believe they did. Tomorrow, she'd set up the bird feeder and hope for the best.

The girls came downstairs, dressed and ready to go to their grandparents' house. Their normal Christmas Day visit had changed when Nadia had told Cleo and Otto they were heading to her parents' house. She needed to surround herself with love and affection. She wanted to curl up next to her sister in the bed they'd shared, when they'd talked about boys, life, and heartache, like they used to when they were in high school and home from college. Reuben would be there, eager to spend time with his nieces.

Gemma twirled when she came into the kitchen. Both girls wore matching green velvet dresses that complemented their hair color: Gemma with her auburn hair like Nadia's, and Lynnea's blonde locks, reminiscent of Rafe's.

"Wow," Nadia said as she placed her hand over her heart. "How did I get so lucky with you two?"

Gemma curtsied. Lynnea, on the other hand, tapped her cheek and gazed evilly at the ceiling. "I know about how babies are made."

Oh, God.

"No, you don't, Lynnea. Stop saying that," Gemma said with so much mom sass that Nadia cringed. Gemma had had to grow up a lot in the past handful of months. Something Nadia had never wanted for her daughter. Either of them. They needed to stay babies for as long as possible, and never leave her.

"Yes, I do!"

"Girls, please." Nadia had no intention of asking her daughter how she knew where babies came from, until later.

"There's a mommy and a daddy, and they—"

"Lynnea, stop," Nadia demanded. "This isn't something you talk about except with me, got it?" The last thing she needed was for Lynnea to say something to Astrid today. Freya would lose her ever-loving mind. As it was, Freya was none too happy to have to celebrate Christmas early on account of Nadia wanting to be elsewhere. Nadia couldn't win and suspected this would be the last Christmas she spent with her in-laws. Next year, they could take the girls for one day. Cleo and Freya were doing a damn good job of making her feel unwelcome.

Those feelings weren't an exaggeration. When they arrived at the Karlssons' house, the environment was anything but welcoming. Freya barely said hello. Lars couldn't get the day off from work, even though it was Saturday. Leif couldn't put his phone down to talk to anyone, not that Nadia could blame him. Being the only young man in the family had to be boring for him.

When it came time for presents, everyone gathered in the living room while Otto handed gifts out. Freya chose to have Astrid and Leif wait until the actual holiday, since they'd be at the Karlssons' place again. Nadia understood. She gave her niece and nephew their gifts and anxiously waited for them to open them.

"They're going to wait," Freya said.

"I'd really like them to open them now," Nadia responded. "Especially Leif." She'd given him one of Rafe's ties and tie clips, knowing how important it had been to Rafe that young men dress up for occasions. It had taken a lot for Nadia to go through some of Rafe's things and find the right one for Leif.

"He'll wait."

"Astrid—" Nadia stopped talking and nodded. There was no use in arguing. Besides, the kids didn't look eager to open anything anyway.

Nadia was handed a small box. She waited until the girls opened their presents, smiling along with them each time they held up their new toy or item of clothing. When the girls finished, Freya and Cleo left the room, saying they needed to get dinner ready. Nadia sat there, with the small box in her lap and a forced smile on her lips.

"I'm sorry," Otto said. "Rafe's death has been hard on her, and seeing you and the girls—"

"I get it." She didn't. Her children were Cleo's grandchildren. Her son's children. Cleo should've showered them with love and affection, the way only a grandma could. But no, she was cold and mean.

"Mommy." Gemma caught Nadia's attention. She strained a weak smile.

"Yeah, baby."

"I don't feel good. Can we go home?" Nadia wanted to hug and kiss her daughter for being sick. It was the excuse she needed to get the hell out of there.

"Yeah, we can."

"Nadia—" Otto started to say but stopped when she shook her head. Getting out of there had to happen before she broke down. Otto stood, gathered the girls' presents, and carried them out to the car. Nadia said nothing to her mother- and sister-in-law and could barely hug Otto. The first holiday after losing your spouse wasn't supposed to be shitty.

As soon as they pulled away, she looked at Gemma in the rearview and saw her crying. "What's wrong, Gemma?"

Gemma wiped angrily at her tears. "I'm mad at Grandma and Grandpa."

Me too.

"How come?" Nadia asked. "They bought you some really nice clothes."

"It's not that. It's the way Grandma treats you. She's mean."

"It's okay, Gemma."

"No, it's not! You lost Daddy and need her to love you the same way, and she's mean. You didn't even open your present from her."

Nope, because I don't want to know what's in there.

"She didn't buy you much things," Lynnea said. At the stoplight, Nadia turned and saw tears in Lynnea's eyes.

"My loves." Nadia could barely hold back her sob.

"Last year Grandma gave you a million presents."

She didn't, but that's a nice thought.

"It's not about how many presents you get, Gemma. It's the thought that counts."

"Well, her thoughts are mean," Gemma said as she looked out her window.

When they arrived home, Nadia unloaded the car, emptied the boxes, and threw the wrapping paper away. She made multiple trips up and down the stairs when she could've easily asked the girls to come get their stuff. She kept her emotions in check until she went into her bedroom. A waft of Rafe's cologne washed over her. She swore he was in their bedroom, hugging her. Did he know how his mother had acted?

No, he didn't.

"Rafe." She said his name softly. "I need you."

Thirty minutes later, Kiran knocked on the front door. He stood there with a pile of presents in his arms. Nadia let him in.

"What are you doing here?"

"Otto called," he told her. "Said things didn't go very well over there this afternoon."

"That's the understatement of the century." Nadia followed Kiran into the living room. He set the pile of presents under the tree and organized them.

"I know you're leaving for your parents' soon, so you and the girls can open them when you get back or before. Doesn't matter." She didn't miss the "you and the girls" part but intended to ignore it.

"Are you hungry?"

He nodded. "I ordered a delivery," he told her as he looked at his phone. "It should be here shortly."

"For us?"

"Yeah."

"Kiran—"

"I know what you're going to say," he said, shrugging. "This is where I want to be."

She nodded and told him she was going to set the table. He followed her into the kitchen and helped until the doorbell rang. As soon as they had a mini holiday feast set up on the table, Nadia called the girls down. They loved Kiran, and he had gone out of his way to make sure the past three months had been bearable.

"Mommy, did you see the presents under the tree?" Lynnea asked as she crawled into her seat.

"Yep, Kiran brought them over."

"Can we open them after dinner?" Lynnea asked.

"How about we open them after we eat dessert?" Kiran suggested. "Maybe we can get your mom to make us some hot cocoa."

Lynnea agreed enthusiastically, while Gemma sat there, reserved. Nadia noted the way Gemma stared at Kiran. Did she see what Nadia did? Could Gemma sense that Kiran meant more to them than just being Rafe's best friend?

After dinner and dessert, Kiran took the girls into the living room, while she made hot cocoa from scratch. While she waited for the milk to reach the right temperature, she peered out the window at the leafless branches on the tree. She was startled when the cardinal landed on the branch nearest to her.

"Are you my sign?" she asked the bird quietly. "Did my husband send you?" Realistically she didn't expect an answer. That didn't stop her from hoping for one. She stood there until the bird flew away, which he did right when the milk reached the perfect temperature.

Nadia carried a tray with four mugs of cocoa and a plate of cookies into the living room. The girls sat on the floor, with Gemma leaning in the chair Nadia normally sat in. She sat and ran her hand down her daughter's hair.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked her.

Gemma nodded. "I wasn't sick when we left Grandpa's," she told her mother. "I fibbed."

Nadia's heart swelled. "You didn't have to do that for me."

"Yes, I did." Gemma crawled into Nadia's lap and snuggled into her embrace.

"I love you, my sweet girl."

"I love you, Mommy."

Over the next hour or so, they opened presents from Kiran and drank hot chocolate, and then Kiran told them he'd see them in the morning to take them to the airport for the quick flight to Maryland. Nadia walked him to the door and thanked him for the presents, and to her shock, he leaned in and kissed her cheek softly.

"Merry Christmas, Nadia." Kiran was out of the house and down the steps before she could respond.

Once the house was quiet, she sat by the tree with its twinkling lights and soft music playing in the background. The present from her in-laws sat on the table next to her. Part of her didn't want to open it because the hurt would be too much. Gemma had been right about the gifts, and it was pretty shitty that a child recognized how poorly Cleo had treated Nadia.

She picked up the box and shook it. Something moved around. Knowing better than to open it, she did. Inside the box was a scarf, hat, and mittens. The kind you would buy for the Yankee swap in your office. Nadia stared at the contents and then looked at the wrapping again. The tag read: N ADIA . Cleo couldn't even write F ROM : M OM & D AD or C LEO & O TTO on it.

Nadia set it aside, turned everything off, and climbed the stairs. She woke the girls up and told them to crawl into her bed. She needed them with her.