Twenty-Six

TWENTY-SIX

FELTON

I really like Ren's parents. They're super nice. Even if they've seen what's on the internet about me, they haven't said anything. I don't always understand them because they talk quietly, and their accents are very thick. Usually if I take a minute to work it out, I can get it. Then there are times I glance at Ren, and he interprets for me.

Jin is nice too. He's quiet and mostly observes. He sounds much like Ren except his voice is slightly deeper and his accent is definitely heavier. But he has the same smooth, quiet tone that I love about Ren's.

It's Christmas Eve, but it doesn't feel like it. Ren's house looks exactly like it always does. As we sit at the table for lunch, I wonder what it would look like decorated. Would it carry over into each room or be centralized in one?

"I should have asked this earlier," Ren says and I look at him. "Are there Christmas Eve or Christmas Day traditions you'd like to do?"

I smile a little and consider Christmas. As an only child, I was never lacking as far as gifts were concerned. And they were good gifts. Things I wanted. But my reception was never right; I was either too excited or not enough. I was laying on my thanks too thick or I could show a lot more gratitude. My requests should have been more reasonably priced or I should stop insulting them by asking for items that they could get at the flea market.

Nothing I did was how my father wanted me to be.

I can't remember a time when it was different. The only thing I remember about holidays is how much time I put into thinking about how I could perform exactly how my father would approve, so he'd smile and nod at me.

It never happened. That pit remained with me for every holiday and began carrying over into every single interaction with him. It has colored my holiday memories. Maybe there were a lot of traditions, but I don't remember anything but my father.

"No," I whisper and look down at my plate. There's little movement at the table and I think maybe I should say something, but I can't think of anything, so I don't.

Ren's fingers brush my hand and I look up. Especially since he told me PDA is considered disrespectful in front of parents and stuff. "We can make new traditions."

The way my stomach flips when he includes himself in that truly threatens to return everything I've eaten onto my plate. The sappy warmth and hope that fills me with his words!

"You don't celebrate Christmas, though. Do you?"

Ren shakes his head, pulling his hand from mine. "No. Back home, there are zero religious connotations to the holiday because Christianity makes up a very small part of the population in China. However, it's become more popular for commercial reasons. Having been here for a couple decades, I can tell you it looks nothing like what you see here. Instead, it's celebrated more like Valentine's Day when you make a more concentrated effort to show someone you love how much they mean to you."

I smile. "That sounds nice."

"Did you celebrate religiously?" Jin asks.

It's on the tip of my tongue to say no, but the cross that's always hung right inside our door flashes through my mind. There were probably half a dozen crosses on the walls throughout my house. Not once had they ever left their spot. I've stopped noticing them over the years, but chances are good they're still there.

But I don't remember ever seeing a bible, there's never been prayer, there's never been a reference to scripture or anything at all. In fact, I'm not sure I've ever stepped a foot inside a church of any kind. Even family weddings were held outdoors. Was there a priest or a justice of the peace?

"I don't know," I admit. "I'm going to say that I don't think so. Maybe the crosses in my house were… a statement?"

Jin tilts his head as he studies me. Probably trying to decide what I mean.

"I really don't think we were religious. I'm not now and I don't think I ever was. But I guess I'm not really sure about my parents or the rest of my family."

He nods.

"Did you celebrate the religious holidays?" Ren asks.

"Not in their religious aspects, no. I think most bank holidays were a reason for the whole family to get together." And for my father to use literally anything at all that they'd accomplished since we'd last gotten together to make sure I knew how much I suck.

Ren looks out the window. "Let's start with a new tradition." The four of us look at him. "Winnipeg this time of year is lit up like the cartoon North Pole. When the sun goes down, we'll pile into my car and head into town to see the storefronts and the decorations. Then we can drive around to the heavily lit neighborhoods to admire the lights."

This might be the very first Christmas activity that I've felt excited about. The way my stomach flips isn't with the usual nerves and dread. I'm looking forward to this. To spend time with Ren and his family.

I nod, unable to speak. I'm learning that I'm kind of a sucker for someone being nice to me. Genuinely nice. Not someone who takes pity on me and eventually sees someone that they can apparently—easily—take advantage of.

Looking back on my life, especially as I went off on my own and began my career, I can recall way too many moments of people only being nice to my face when really, they were manipulating me. The thing is, even seeing the pattern that I understand, I'm not sure I'd be any different now.

I'm an easy target. Ren says I have no boundaries and I don't know how to stick up for myself. He's not wrong. Acknowledging that only makes me see all the shit I've let people do to me. It doesn't change the fact that's who I am and will probably always be.

Again, the only aspect of my life that didn't have that pattern was my ReachMe life. There wasn't an opportunity for anyone to hurt me or take advantage of my low self-esteem. I only collabed with someone that I chose, and only after I spent months studying them and had several long conversations with them.

I'm not sure why I can't seem to carry that much confidence and decisiveness into every day. Probably because when I'm doing literally everything else, there's always a voice in my head telling me I'm wrong. It's a mistake. I could do better.

It makes me seize up and unable to make a decision at all. The grip of near panic that overtakes me prevents me from taking a full breath until the expectation is removed.

I help Ren clean up after lunch and we spend time with his family, enjoying some warm tea in the living room while we talk and wait for the sun to go down. Jin is an architect. He lives in Thailand, which explains why he arrived separately from his parents. Jin shows me pictures of the buildings he's designed that have actually been built.

It's one of the coolest things to see and know that he designed them, and they exist in the world. People live and work inside them. That has got to be one of the most amazing feelings.

Because of the time of year, we don't have to wait long before leaving the house. It's four when we bundle up and load into Ren's car. I offer the front seat to his parents, but they look at me and smile.

"You can't fit in the back," his mother says. "Sit in front."

I mean, they're not wrong. I'd have made it work, but there are very few back seats I've found I fit in. Even the SUV that Ren drives wouldn't be big enough for me. I'd still end up with my knees in my chest.

The front is only marginally better most of the time unless I have the seat all the way back. I definitely have long legs, though. They aren't built for vehicles.

Ren lives in one of the rural neighborhoods much like the one I live in, though there are several miles between us. As we drive toward the city, many houses outside lights are just starting to kick on.

We park on the side of the main street with all the shops and wrap up in our winter clothes. I'm surprised and excited when Ren takes my hand in his. Everything feels more magical as our feet crunch over the light dusting of snow on the sidewalk when he holds my hand.

The street lamps are decorated with stars and angels trumpeting. There are snowflakes hanging from trees and pretty Christmas scenes in the windows of the shops we pass. Many of the tall buildings are all lit up, too. One has a projector over it with a Christmas scene playing out.

Turning down another street, we see a castle created by string lights as they run between and over buildings. There are no less than a dozen turrets and they're all covered in snow. We walk under its big arch and, looking up, I'm mesmerized by the number of lights over my head.

"This is regular?" Ren's mother asks.

This isn't my first year in Winnipeg for Christmas, but walking through downtown, I realize that I've never seen any of this. Is it brand new? Is this the first year?

Ren nods. "Yes. It gets a little more extravagant every year, but this is pretty normal."

"It is?" I ask.

He looks at me with his pretty, quiet smile. "It is," he says.

"You're not usually here for Christmas?" Jin asks me.

I shake my head. "We don't always have this much time off and when we do, I'm usually with my family."

"You never go to town?" he asks.

"In the daylight, yes. For hockey. When we have late games, I'm usually exhausted and focused on getting home, so… yeah, I think I miss what's going on around me," I admit.

"There are lights like this in China too," Jin tells me. "They're more… cartoony, though. Straight lines on trees and exaggerated stars. Big blow up characters. But most places don't have Christmas decorations out, per se. There are a lot of lights. Lanterns of various shapes and the trees are wearing lights like another skin. It's really pretty."

"In recent years, there's been a lot of Christmas bans throughout China," Ren says. "Some say that it represents a Western cultural invasion. There's a lot of political tie-ins to the reasons behind it."

"Don't most of our decorations and lights come from China?" I ask.

Jin grins.

"Yes," their father says. "Ironic, no?"

I nod.

"I mean, I kind of understand. Christianity has strangled out so many cultures over the centuries. Not just religious beliefs, but entire cultures have been modified by it. Often by force and death," Jin says. "I haven't studied much in religious philosophy or practice since university but more than anything, there's been a single pattern through all Abrahamic religions and that's the fact that their entire existence is to guilt, shame, and convince you into converting to their specific practice or you'll spend eternity in whatever version of hell they believe in. Wars still happen because one religious sect wants to extinguish another."

"What happened to love and peace? I thought that's what they preach," I say.

"Only if you're already part of their specific belief system. Otherwise, you don't get love and peace."

We happen to be passing a church and I pause to look at it. There are the obvious decorations out front—a nativity. I stare at the scene for a minute and think about what Jin said. Not for the first time, I wonder why people can't just live and let live. Why does everything have to be a competition for who's right and wrong? Why can't we just agree to believe what we choose? It doesn't have to be your opinion. We don't even have to talk about it.

Ren's hand squeezes around mine, and I pull my attention away. I've never given much thought to religion. More times than not, I've run into those who say my sexuality is a sin and quite frankly, if that's the case, I'm not sure why I'd join them. Why would I believe in a scripture that in one breath would have me believe that their god made me this way and everything he makes is perfect, and in the next they say I'm living in sin because he made me gay?

Why do they find it so hard to see the contradiction in that? Either they're lying that their god makes everything perfect, and makes everything to begin with. Or they're lying that I'm living in sin since he made me the way I am.

Either way, it seems to me like they're a bunch of liars who chair their doctrine when it suits their needs. They're hypocrites and bigots. Also, sheep following blindly what they interpret from a book that has literally been remodeled into different versions where some include more ‘books' than others, seems ill advised.

So yeah. That's all I see when I look at the nativity scene. A whole lot of words that contradict each other, depending on who's reading which part of the bible and how they interpret it. I like what Jin said about China keeping Western religion out of their culture as much as they can. It's like an invasive species. All religions and cultures are invasive if their mission is to recruit and convert.

We don't talk about Christmas in China or religion again as we continue to move through downtown. Before we head back to the car, we stop in for some hot chocolate and before we head home, we drive around different neighborhoods to see their displays of lights and holiday cheer.

Ren even puts on Christmas music.

I decide I like this version of Christmas. There's joy in it. Peace. Comfort of being with family without the constant pit in my stomach filled with the dread of hearing how I've disappointed them.

It's not about the holiday. It's about spending time together and enjoying each other's company while the world around us is a little more magical.

And freezing!