shotput25ash
Me
Alright, Merry Christmas my Dear… I’m so sorry, but Part I of your present hasn’t been completed yet… so you’re going to have to settle with Part II first… because I’m too stubborn to call Part II Part I 
.
Now, moving right along.
Title – Make My Wish Come True
Rating – PG13
Word Count – 3,557 (excluding lyrics)
Disclaimer – I don’t own Sydney, Michael, or Izzy, but Abie’s all mine. I don’t own the song either.
Spoilers – None, this is an AU piece of fiction.
Authors Note – This is Part II of Katy’s Christmas present. So – this is all for you Babe, hope you like it!
Authors Note 2 – This is a one parter.
Authors Note 3 – Thank you to my lovely Beta’s, Laur (LaurenRachael), and Erica (Rica18). *Muah*
Make My Wish Come True
Sydney pushed the front door open clumsily, groceries balanced in one arm and her seven-year-old daughter’s backpack in the other. She rushed to get to the kitchen counter before the bags could fall mercilessly out of her grasp, and only half listened as both girls were whining.
“Can’t you go play?” She asked them quietly, turning to stare Izzy and Abie in the eyes.
“I don’t want to play,” Abie, the youngest, informed her mother, annoyed.
“You said I could hang out with Rachel and Laura after school today, remember?” Izzy’s bored, lazy expression masked her dimpled cheeks. The classic fifteen-year-old expression bringing its way to the surface.
“I’m sure I said that, but, Sweetie, I’ve got a lot to do and it’d be really helpful if you watched your sister.” Sydney walked back and forth in the kitchen, placing the grocery items in their proper place within the oak cabinets or refrigerator.
“Mum!” Izzy yelled, annoyed, “Ugh, whatever.” Rolling her eyes dramatically she stomped off up the stairs.
“Isabelle Addison Vaughn, don’t you dare take that tone with me!” Sydney called after her, turning with an exhausted expression to Abie. “Please, Baby, go play.”
~
Walking down the upstairs hallway, and picking up the toys scattered around along the way, Sydney made her way towards Abie’s bedroom to tuck her in for the night. Approaching the door, she could hear the little girl’s voice drifting out to greet her in the dim hallway.
“Dear Santa, I know you have an awful lot of other little boy’s and girl’s to bring presents to this Christmas, but tomorrow’s Christmas Eve and my Daddy still isn’t home. I don’t really need the Barbie play house, or the Aly Dolly… All I’m asking for this Christmas, Santa, is that you bring my Daddy back. I really miss him, so please.”
A loan tear found it’s way down Sydney’s cheek as she wiped it off quickly, swallowing hard before walking into the room. Pink was bouncing off every wall, elaborating the white furniture. She leaned down and placed a kiss on Abie’s forehead.
“Good Night, Baby.”
~
Her head restlessly hit the back of the sofa, the wine glass in her hand getting the grip on it increased. The room wasn’t spinning, yet, but the lights on the tree had started to get blurred. Sydney snapped her eyes shut, praying to God above, just as she did every night. Praying that someone, anyone, would bring him home.
She knew it wasn’t right, to sit at night and just try to forget about him; about the pain that their girls had been through. Getting drunk wasn’t helping any either, but at least it took the hurt away.
Slowly, her eyes opened, and landed on the blinking midnight clock. The speakers on the stereo across the room were just like a turn table for her to watch. The pit of her stomach ached, and the back of her throat burned. It was better though, anything was better than remembering.
“Syd?” Michael questioned, walking slowly into the living room. The fireplace was glowing, and the dog, Maggie, was asleep in the recliner.
“What Hun?” She smiled up at him over the back of the couch.
“We need to talk,” he explained calmly.
She laughed at him nervously. “Alright.”
Michael sat down next to her without saying a word. He took the envelope from his jacket pocket and placed it in her hands, silently urging her to open it.
“What’s this?” She questioned him curiously, her brow narrowing in confusion.
To: Michael C. Vaughn.
From: General Fredrick R. Wilson.
Subject: Your Service To The United States Military.
Mr. Vaughn, this letter is meant to inform you that your service is requested again to protect our country…
That’s as far as Sydney got before it fell out of her hands, and drifted its way to the floor. With tear-filled eyes she stared at her husband, shaking her head, meaningless words escaping her lips.
“I’m so sorry,” Michael whispered, wrapping her in his arms and rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I never meant for this to happen again.”
Her finger reached up to trace the scar on the side of his neck. The perfect circular mark left from a bullet shot by the enemy’s gun the last time he left her. Their family couldn’t go through that again.
But they did. He passed the physical, and within the next month Michael was shipped overseas. Only a letter once a month, for three months, and then they stopped all together.
The worrying became more intense, and the crying late at night turned to sobs, before finally Sydney gave up on it all together and showered herself in the company of wine bottles. Each time was supposed to be the last, but when the love of your life is someplace that isn’t your arms, and the father of your children hasn’t been home in over nine months, there’s not much else you can do.
So, Sydney put her childhood faith back in Santa Clause, and lost most of her faith in God. She cursed him every night for ripping Michael out of her grasp yet again, and for putting her family through such hell. She’d trade every pound of money in the world to have him back, but not even God seemed to understand that.
~
“Wake up,” Izzy grumbled, throwing a couch pillow at her mother.
“I’m up,” Sydney replied groggily, blinking her eyes.
“You told Abie you’d make Christmas Eve breakfast, like Dad always did,” she explained to Sydney with a huff, walking out of the pale green living room and stomping back up the oak stairs.
Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the light and she pushed herself off the couch. Lazily, Sydney walked to the kitchen, dishes from the night before greeting her. Shaking the pain behind her eyes away, she went to her bedroom to put on an outfit that didn’t reek of liquor.
She splashed cold water on her face, forcing her brain to leave its lethargic state. After rummaging through her closet for jeans and a sweatshirt she made her way to the kitchen, to prepare the same breakfast Michael always did.
“Want help, Mommy?” Abie smiled innocently from the doorway, her hands unconsciously playing with the doorframe.
“I’d love some, Baby.” Sydney smiled at her little girl, remembering all the reasons why she never gave up. The brown eyes shining brightly in the mornings light were all she needed to make it through another day.
Half an hour later the dining room table, accented with its dark cherry wood, was set and mounded with plates of food. It took more convincing then usual to get Izzy to join them that morning, but Sydney believed it was well worth the fight.
“What’d we get Daddy for Christmas?” Abie asked quietly, picking at the scrambled eggs on her blue china plate.
“A watch, Baby. A few other odds and ends as well,” Sydney replied smiling, taking a sip from her glass filled with orange juice.
“He’ll be here, right, to open his presents?” She pried, ignoring her older sister’s glare.
“I don’t know.” Sydney let her eyes drop to her plate, and focused on cutting up her pancakes.
“Mommy?” Abie questioned after a few minutes of silence.
“What Baby?” Sydney asked, accustomed to the persistent questioning from the little girl.
“When is Daddy coming home?” Her eyes grew wider, and she gave up full attention on her plate, staring at her mother intently.
Sydney blinked heavily, accentuating on an inhale and exhale. “Soon.”
Izzy dropped her fork, causing it to hit the antique plate with a clang. “Stop lying to her, for Christ’s sake!” She screamed, then turning her attention to her little sister, “He’s not coming home, don’t you get that? Dad’s dead somewhere, he’s not coming back!”
Abie’s eyes grew wide, tears rushing to them and falling down her cheeks. “Liar!” She yelled, running away from the table and to her room.
Her face blank, Sydney stared at her oldest daughter, stunned. “I can not believe you just said that.” She bit out sharply.
“Well, it’s true, and we both know it,” Izzy mumbled, moving food around on her plate.
“We do not,” Sydney snapped.
“He’s MIA, Mum! Presumed dead! That’s what the General said, or did you just forget that phone call? Just like you forget all the nights you spent crying because you knew; you just didn’t want to admit it? Or when Uncle Eric came back on leave and explained to you all that happened! How Dad was shot, and they had to leave him? Did you just wash that away with all your worries when you get drunk every night?” Her voice was bitter, with an edge Sydney had never heard before.
“We don’t know anything.” Sydney pushed her chair away from the table, standing up. “And don’t you ever, ever speak like that under this roof again.”
As she approached Abie’s room, Sydney could hear the little girl’s sobs, and with that her heart broke. She just wanted to protect her babies, like any mother would, but how can you keep them from the cold hard truth of their lives?
She knocked gently, causing the little girl’s heart to jump, as she looked up to see her mother. The warm and loving face she’d been greeted with since infancy, shining as bright as the northern star. It led her back to a place of love and happiness, back to her mother’s arms.
“Why’d Izzy say something like that, anyway?” Abie asked, sighing heavily.
“Because, Baby, it’s easier to tell herself that now. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up just to have them crushed in the end.”
“I hate Isabelle,” Abie cried stubbornly.
“Oh, don’t say that kind of thing Baby.” Sydney tried to persuade her, wiping the tears off of her cheeks with her thumb.
“Should I think Daddy’s dead?” She asked quietly.
“Do you think your Daddy’s dead?” Sydney countered, raising her eyebrows at the little girl. “Because you should think what you believe.”
“He’s alive,” Abie told her simply, “because I traded all my Santa presents for him.”
Sydney chuckled lightly. “I’m sure you’ll get some anyway.”
“I don’t want them.” The little girl shook her head.
“Not even that Barbie jeep that you can ride in?” Sydney raised an eyebrow.
Abie thought for a minute, her eyes shifting back and forth. “Nope.” Shaking her head side to side she whispered, “I’d give that up to have my daddy back home.”
“So would I, Baby, so would I.” Sydney kissed the top of Abie’s head, wiping a dirty blonde lock of hair out from in front of her chocolate brown eyes.
“Tell me a story.” Abie grinned, “One more.”
“I don’t think I have any left,” Sydney said lightly, leaning her head back against the wall.
“You and Daddy’s first Christmas?” Abie persuaded, a smile gracing her lips.
Sydney shut her eyes, a toothy grin welcomed by her features – the pure memory bringing her back to a life of bliss.
“Syd, this is Michael, from work. Michael, this is Syd.” Francie grinned, bulging her eyes out, suggestively, at Sydney.
“Nice to meet you,” Michael greeted her politely.
“You too.” Sydney nodded her head casually. “How’d you get suckered into coming over here?”
“Will,” Michael laughed. “You live here though, right? So I can put partial blame on you for collaborating on the whole Christmas party idea anyway?”
“No.” Sydney shook her head vigorously. “I’m not really into Christmas.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She nodded her head earnestly.
“Well, do you at least believe in the traditions?” He asked her plainly.
“Usually.” She took a lazy sip from her wine glass.
Without warning, Michael stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Sydney simply stared at him, shocked.
Chuckling slightly, he tilted her chin up. “Mistletoe,” he explained, before she leaned in to kiss him again.
Laughing at her little girl, Sydney patted the top of her head. “I think I’ll save that night for when you’re older… much older.”
“Do you think Santa will let me have Daddy?” Abie asked her mother innocently.
“Do you think so?” Sydney reiterated.
“Stop doing that,” Abie scolded, pointing a finger at her mother’s nose.
“I’m not doing anything, Baby.” She smiled lightly.
“I asked you first, and then you asked me. It’s not allowed,” she told her mother plainly, like it was the simplest concept in the universe.
“I’m sorry, Baby.”
“He’s all I want for Christmas Mommy. That’s it, nothing else, I swear.” Abie’s eyes began to fill with tears as Sydney brought her closer to her chest. “I’d give all my presents just to have him tuck me in bed one more time.”
Sydney sighed heavily. “I know, Baby, I know.”
~
It was three in the morning, but Sydney made her way to the front door anyway, the incessant ringing beginning to give her a headache. She opened it slowly, still half asleep. Her stomach dropped, her heart rising to her throat.
“Michael?” She squeaked out, her face turning a ghostly shade of white.
“Oh, Sydney.” His eyes squeezed shut, before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her.
“My, God, I’ve been worried sick. They said… they said you were dead,” she sobbed, as he placed gentle kisses all over her face.
“I missed you like crazy,” he told her, grabbing her hand as they walked towards the staircase.
The room started spinning, the paintings on the wall seemed to be jumping out at them, but Sydney ignored it. The pale white hallway, now seeming a shade of pink, but she blamed it on the lack of sleep.
Once their bedroom door was closed, Michael’s lips were upon her own. Feelings were rushing through her body that she hadn’t felt in nine months. Nine, long months that she’d been without him.
“I love you,” he whispered, as her pajama top fell to the floor.
“I love you too,” she replied, kissing him softly.
One, two, three loud cracking noises sounded through the air, and Michael’s eyes grew wide. He let go of the side of her face, as his hands felt his chest; blood, spilling from three open wounds, as he looked up at her with terrified eyes.
“Oh, oh God, Michael!” Sydney sobbed, her hands reaching out to cup his face.
His knees hit the ground, his breathing heavier. She hit the floor as well, her cold, numb hands, running through his hair. He collapsed to her chest, as she screamed.
Sydney woke up in a cold sweat, the blankets twisted around her, as she sobbed. She sobbed for the feelings she couldn’t explain. She sobbed for her girls, who might not ever see their father again. Lastly, she sobbed for her husband, and how she lost him. Deep down, knowing he wouldn’t be coming home.
~
Sydney stood in the doorway of the living room, watching as her friends and family gathered. Talking, laughing, and smiling. Everything she wanted to be doing, but couldn’t quite pull off. Her heart breaking, every time she realized he wasn’t there with her.
The Christmas tree that her and the girl’s had decorated stood proudly in the corner of the room, displaying the white lights for all to see. It wasn’t a real tree this year, which Izzy pitched a fit about, but Sydney didn’t think it was right to take Michael’s job of picking out the perfect tree. Instead, she went to a department store and got a cheap knock off.
It held decorations collected over the years. Whether they be from ones the kids brought home from school, to the very few left that Sydney and Michael had bought the year they got married.
Abie was playing by the sofa with Will’s daughter, Nicole. They were laughing, the innocent sound like music to Sydney’s ears. Maggie, Michael’s old dog, was asleep in the chair trying to ignore as Taylor, Francie’s eighteen-month-old, played with her ears.
“Izzy, come play the piano for us darling,” Michael’s mother, Amelia, instructed her granddaughter.
“I don’t feel like it Nana,” she replied lazily, continuing to flip through a magazine.
“Come on, you always do.” She smiled warmly, “I always look forward to it.”
Izzy snapped her head in attention. “I said, not this year,” she bit out sharply.
Had Sydney not understood her daughter’s reasoning, she would have gotten a good verbal lashing for speaking to her grandmother like that. However, she knew that Michael taught her how to play, and she also knew that Isabelle hadn’t touched the piano since he was reported missing in action.
“We don’t need a piano to keep our pitch,” Will exclaimed, “We’re all professionals, aren’t we?”
Throughout the room people chuckled, as Amelia led everyone in familiar Christmas carols.
~
“Come on girls, I just want one picture.” Sydney fiddled with the camera, trying to get both of her daughters to stand next to each other and actually be civilized. “Abigail Katherine Vaughn, stop fidgeting.”
“It’s supposed to be family pictures, and Dad’s not here, so what’s the point?” Izzy asked sarcastically, rolling a piece of her brown hair around on her index finger.
“When he comes home he’s going to want to see our pictures!” Abie argued, placing both hands on her tiny hips.
Sydney tilted her head towards the ceiling, silently praying for something to stop their endless bickering. See what happens when you’re gone?
“Would you two, please stand still?” Sydney asked, sighing heavily.
Before either girl could reply, the doorbell rang. A slow, yet persistent ring that put Sydney’s teeth on edge. After her dream last night, every time that noise protruded her ears, she felt nauseous.
“Don’t either of you move,” she told them firmly, walking through the foyer to the front door.
She opened the door quickly, causing it to shake the coat rack when hitting it at an elevated force. Sydney’s holiday cheer was immediately removed from her face, her lips becoming a single line, her eye’s wide as saucers.
“Sydney?” He whispered, reaching his hand out to run it through her hair.
She flinched at his touch, almost as if it caused her pain. “You, you aren’t real.”
“I am,” he insisted, taking a step closer to her.
“You can’t be.” Her shaky hand cupped his stubbly cheek. Sydney stared at him, his hair a little longer than when he left, his eyes filled with more hurt than he used to have.
“I am,” he repeated, placing his cold hands on both sides of her neck, bringing his lips to kiss her forehead gently.
“Michael,” Sydney sobbed, clamping her eyes shut, a pathetic attempt to keep the tears from falling.
“It’s alright,” he assured her, walking them farther into the house. “But, where are the girls?”
“Living room,” she chocked out, unable to form a whole sentence.
Michael smiled at her, holding her cheeks. “I love you,” he assured her, staring into her blood shot eyes.
With a nod of her head, Michael let go and walked in the direction of the girl’s bickering. Izzy was facing away from the door, hands stubbornly on her hips, arguing with Abie about something or other. He couldn’t make out the words; for he was too busy praising God for the sound of their voices.
Abie’s eyes grew wide, her hands dropped to her side, and her mouth clamped shut. “Daddy,” she whispered, almost as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Oh, butt munch, don’t frackin bring that up! How many times do I have to tell you…”
“No.” Abie shook her head, cutting her old sister off. “Daddy!”
Izzy spun on her heel, staring into a pair of eyes that matched her own. “Dad.” Her voice was flat, emotionless, unbelieving.
“Daddy!” Abie screamed, running past her sister and into her father’s arms.
Michael picked her up without a second thought, bringing his baby as close to his chest as he could. “Oh, you’ve gotten big,” he whispered quietly into her ear, “so big, Angel.”
When he looked up, Izzy was still staring at him. Shaking her head slowly and a faint smile spreading across her lips. “You’re home,” she whispered, almost inaudibly.
Putting Abie down on the ground Michael walked over and wrapped Izzy in his arms. “You look more and more like your mother every day,” he told her, tears coming to his eyes.
“I thought you left us.” Sobbing, her nails dug into his back.
“Never, I’ll always find my way back to you guys,” Michael promised, smiling as Sydney came into the room.
Abie pulled on the hem of Sydney’s shirt, demanding to be lifted into her mother’s arms. “I was right,” she whispered, cupping her hand around Sydney’s ear, “I knew Santa would bring him back to me, I just knew it.”
Tears came to Sydney’s eyes again as she kissed her husband on the cheek. Turning to Abie, she smiled. “Santa does have a way of giving us exactly what we want, huh, Baby.” She rested her chin on top of Abigail’s head, and shut her eyes for a minute. They were all together; her Christmas wish had come true.
{Fin}
Song – “All I Want For Christmas Is You” By, Mariah Carey
I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to send out PMs to this or not.
I’m thinking I’ll let people read at their own risk…
Or, I might just do it sometime after Christmas.
Hope you enjoyed it, Katy especially.
Luv ya, Ma Dea.
xxx, Ash
. Now, moving right along.
Title – Make My Wish Come True
Rating – PG13
Word Count – 3,557 (excluding lyrics)
Disclaimer – I don’t own Sydney, Michael, or Izzy, but Abie’s all mine. I don’t own the song either.
Spoilers – None, this is an AU piece of fiction.
Authors Note – This is Part II of Katy’s Christmas present. So – this is all for you Babe, hope you like it!
Authors Note 2 – This is a one parter.
Authors Note 3 – Thank you to my lovely Beta’s, Laur (LaurenRachael), and Erica (Rica18). *Muah*
Make My Wish Come True
Sydney pushed the front door open clumsily, groceries balanced in one arm and her seven-year-old daughter’s backpack in the other. She rushed to get to the kitchen counter before the bags could fall mercilessly out of her grasp, and only half listened as both girls were whining.
“Can’t you go play?” She asked them quietly, turning to stare Izzy and Abie in the eyes.
“I don’t want to play,” Abie, the youngest, informed her mother, annoyed.
“You said I could hang out with Rachel and Laura after school today, remember?” Izzy’s bored, lazy expression masked her dimpled cheeks. The classic fifteen-year-old expression bringing its way to the surface.
“I’m sure I said that, but, Sweetie, I’ve got a lot to do and it’d be really helpful if you watched your sister.” Sydney walked back and forth in the kitchen, placing the grocery items in their proper place within the oak cabinets or refrigerator.
“Mum!” Izzy yelled, annoyed, “Ugh, whatever.” Rolling her eyes dramatically she stomped off up the stairs.
“Isabelle Addison Vaughn, don’t you dare take that tone with me!” Sydney called after her, turning with an exhausted expression to Abie. “Please, Baby, go play.”
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
There is just one thing I need
~
Walking down the upstairs hallway, and picking up the toys scattered around along the way, Sydney made her way towards Abie’s bedroom to tuck her in for the night. Approaching the door, she could hear the little girl’s voice drifting out to greet her in the dim hallway.
“Dear Santa, I know you have an awful lot of other little boy’s and girl’s to bring presents to this Christmas, but tomorrow’s Christmas Eve and my Daddy still isn’t home. I don’t really need the Barbie play house, or the Aly Dolly… All I’m asking for this Christmas, Santa, is that you bring my Daddy back. I really miss him, so please.”
A loan tear found it’s way down Sydney’s cheek as she wiped it off quickly, swallowing hard before walking into the room. Pink was bouncing off every wall, elaborating the white furniture. She leaned down and placed a kiss on Abie’s forehead.
“Good Night, Baby.”
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
Underneath the Christmas tree
~
Her head restlessly hit the back of the sofa, the wine glass in her hand getting the grip on it increased. The room wasn’t spinning, yet, but the lights on the tree had started to get blurred. Sydney snapped her eyes shut, praying to God above, just as she did every night. Praying that someone, anyone, would bring him home.
She knew it wasn’t right, to sit at night and just try to forget about him; about the pain that their girls had been through. Getting drunk wasn’t helping any either, but at least it took the hurt away.
Slowly, her eyes opened, and landed on the blinking midnight clock. The speakers on the stereo across the room were just like a turn table for her to watch. The pit of her stomach ached, and the back of her throat burned. It was better though, anything was better than remembering.
“Syd?” Michael questioned, walking slowly into the living room. The fireplace was glowing, and the dog, Maggie, was asleep in the recliner.
“What Hun?” She smiled up at him over the back of the couch.
“We need to talk,” he explained calmly.
She laughed at him nervously. “Alright.”
Michael sat down next to her without saying a word. He took the envelope from his jacket pocket and placed it in her hands, silently urging her to open it.
“What’s this?” She questioned him curiously, her brow narrowing in confusion.
To: Michael C. Vaughn.
From: General Fredrick R. Wilson.
Subject: Your Service To The United States Military.
Mr. Vaughn, this letter is meant to inform you that your service is requested again to protect our country…
That’s as far as Sydney got before it fell out of her hands, and drifted its way to the floor. With tear-filled eyes she stared at her husband, shaking her head, meaningless words escaping her lips.
“I’m so sorry,” Michael whispered, wrapping her in his arms and rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I never meant for this to happen again.”
Her finger reached up to trace the scar on the side of his neck. The perfect circular mark left from a bullet shot by the enemy’s gun the last time he left her. Their family couldn’t go through that again.
But they did. He passed the physical, and within the next month Michael was shipped overseas. Only a letter once a month, for three months, and then they stopped all together.
The worrying became more intense, and the crying late at night turned to sobs, before finally Sydney gave up on it all together and showered herself in the company of wine bottles. Each time was supposed to be the last, but when the love of your life is someplace that isn’t your arms, and the father of your children hasn’t been home in over nine months, there’s not much else you can do.
So, Sydney put her childhood faith back in Santa Clause, and lost most of her faith in God. She cursed him every night for ripping Michael out of her grasp yet again, and for putting her family through such hell. She’d trade every pound of money in the world to have him back, but not even God seemed to understand that.
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
More than you could ever know
~
“Wake up,” Izzy grumbled, throwing a couch pillow at her mother.
“I’m up,” Sydney replied groggily, blinking her eyes.
“You told Abie you’d make Christmas Eve breakfast, like Dad always did,” she explained to Sydney with a huff, walking out of the pale green living room and stomping back up the oak stairs.
Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the light and she pushed herself off the couch. Lazily, Sydney walked to the kitchen, dishes from the night before greeting her. Shaking the pain behind her eyes away, she went to her bedroom to put on an outfit that didn’t reek of liquor.
She splashed cold water on her face, forcing her brain to leave its lethargic state. After rummaging through her closet for jeans and a sweatshirt she made her way to the kitchen, to prepare the same breakfast Michael always did.
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you
All I want for Christmas is you
“Want help, Mommy?” Abie smiled innocently from the doorway, her hands unconsciously playing with the doorframe.
“I’d love some, Baby.” Sydney smiled at her little girl, remembering all the reasons why she never gave up. The brown eyes shining brightly in the mornings light were all she needed to make it through another day.
Half an hour later the dining room table, accented with its dark cherry wood, was set and mounded with plates of food. It took more convincing then usual to get Izzy to join them that morning, but Sydney believed it was well worth the fight.
“What’d we get Daddy for Christmas?” Abie asked quietly, picking at the scrambled eggs on her blue china plate.
“A watch, Baby. A few other odds and ends as well,” Sydney replied smiling, taking a sip from her glass filled with orange juice.
“He’ll be here, right, to open his presents?” She pried, ignoring her older sister’s glare.
“I don’t know.” Sydney let her eyes drop to her plate, and focused on cutting up her pancakes.
“Mommy?” Abie questioned after a few minutes of silence.
“What Baby?” Sydney asked, accustomed to the persistent questioning from the little girl.
“When is Daddy coming home?” Her eyes grew wider, and she gave up full attention on her plate, staring at her mother intently.
Sydney blinked heavily, accentuating on an inhale and exhale. “Soon.”
Izzy dropped her fork, causing it to hit the antique plate with a clang. “Stop lying to her, for Christ’s sake!” She screamed, then turning her attention to her little sister, “He’s not coming home, don’t you get that? Dad’s dead somewhere, he’s not coming back!”
Abie’s eyes grew wide, tears rushing to them and falling down her cheeks. “Liar!” She yelled, running away from the table and to her room.
Her face blank, Sydney stared at her oldest daughter, stunned. “I can not believe you just said that.” She bit out sharply.
“Well, it’s true, and we both know it,” Izzy mumbled, moving food around on her plate.
“We do not,” Sydney snapped.
“He’s MIA, Mum! Presumed dead! That’s what the General said, or did you just forget that phone call? Just like you forget all the nights you spent crying because you knew; you just didn’t want to admit it? Or when Uncle Eric came back on leave and explained to you all that happened! How Dad was shot, and they had to leave him? Did you just wash that away with all your worries when you get drunk every night?” Her voice was bitter, with an edge Sydney had never heard before.
“We don’t know anything.” Sydney pushed her chair away from the table, standing up. “And don’t you ever, ever speak like that under this roof again.”
I don't need to hang my stocking
There upon the fireplace
There upon the fireplace
As she approached Abie’s room, Sydney could hear the little girl’s sobs, and with that her heart broke. She just wanted to protect her babies, like any mother would, but how can you keep them from the cold hard truth of their lives?
She knocked gently, causing the little girl’s heart to jump, as she looked up to see her mother. The warm and loving face she’d been greeted with since infancy, shining as bright as the northern star. It led her back to a place of love and happiness, back to her mother’s arms.
“Why’d Izzy say something like that, anyway?” Abie asked, sighing heavily.
“Because, Baby, it’s easier to tell herself that now. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up just to have them crushed in the end.”
“I hate Isabelle,” Abie cried stubbornly.
“Oh, don’t say that kind of thing Baby.” Sydney tried to persuade her, wiping the tears off of her cheeks with her thumb.
“Should I think Daddy’s dead?” She asked quietly.
“Do you think your Daddy’s dead?” Sydney countered, raising her eyebrows at the little girl. “Because you should think what you believe.”
“He’s alive,” Abie told her simply, “because I traded all my Santa presents for him.”
Sydney chuckled lightly. “I’m sure you’ll get some anyway.”
“I don’t want them.” The little girl shook her head.
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas day
With a toy on Christmas day
“Not even that Barbie jeep that you can ride in?” Sydney raised an eyebrow.
Abie thought for a minute, her eyes shifting back and forth. “Nope.” Shaking her head side to side she whispered, “I’d give that up to have my daddy back home.”
I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow
I won't even wish for snow
“So would I, Baby, so would I.” Sydney kissed the top of Abie’s head, wiping a dirty blonde lock of hair out from in front of her chocolate brown eyes.
“Tell me a story.” Abie grinned, “One more.”
“I don’t think I have any left,” Sydney said lightly, leaning her head back against the wall.
“You and Daddy’s first Christmas?” Abie persuaded, a smile gracing her lips.
Sydney shut her eyes, a toothy grin welcomed by her features – the pure memory bringing her back to a life of bliss.
“Syd, this is Michael, from work. Michael, this is Syd.” Francie grinned, bulging her eyes out, suggestively, at Sydney.
“Nice to meet you,” Michael greeted her politely.
“You too.” Sydney nodded her head casually. “How’d you get suckered into coming over here?”
“Will,” Michael laughed. “You live here though, right? So I can put partial blame on you for collaborating on the whole Christmas party idea anyway?”
“No.” Sydney shook her head vigorously. “I’m not really into Christmas.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She nodded her head earnestly.
“Well, do you at least believe in the traditions?” He asked her plainly.
“Usually.” She took a lazy sip from her wine glass.
Without warning, Michael stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Sydney simply stared at him, shocked.
Chuckling slightly, he tilted her chin up. “Mistletoe,” he explained, before she leaned in to kiss him again.
Laughing at her little girl, Sydney patted the top of her head. “I think I’ll save that night for when you’re older… much older.”
And I, I just wanna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
Underneath the mistletoe
“Do you think Santa will let me have Daddy?” Abie asked her mother innocently.
“Do you think so?” Sydney reiterated.
“Stop doing that,” Abie scolded, pointing a finger at her mother’s nose.
“I’m not doing anything, Baby.” She smiled lightly.
“I asked you first, and then you asked me. It’s not allowed,” she told her mother plainly, like it was the simplest concept in the universe.
“I’m sorry, Baby.”
“He’s all I want for Christmas Mommy. That’s it, nothing else, I swear.” Abie’s eyes began to fill with tears as Sydney brought her closer to her chest. “I’d give all my presents just to have him tuck me in bed one more time.”
Sydney sighed heavily. “I know, Baby, I know.”
I won't make a list and send it
To the North Pole for St. Nick
I won't even stay awake
To hear those magic reindeer click
To the North Pole for St. Nick
I won't even stay awake
To hear those magic reindeer click
~
It was three in the morning, but Sydney made her way to the front door anyway, the incessant ringing beginning to give her a headache. She opened it slowly, still half asleep. Her stomach dropped, her heart rising to her throat.
“Michael?” She squeaked out, her face turning a ghostly shade of white.
“Oh, Sydney.” His eyes squeezed shut, before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her.
“My, God, I’ve been worried sick. They said… they said you were dead,” she sobbed, as he placed gentle kisses all over her face.
“I missed you like crazy,” he told her, grabbing her hand as they walked towards the staircase.
The room started spinning, the paintings on the wall seemed to be jumping out at them, but Sydney ignored it. The pale white hallway, now seeming a shade of pink, but she blamed it on the lack of sleep.
Once their bedroom door was closed, Michael’s lips were upon her own. Feelings were rushing through her body that she hadn’t felt in nine months. Nine, long months that she’d been without him.
Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding onto me so tight
Holding onto me so tight
“I love you,” he whispered, as her pajama top fell to the floor.
“I love you too,” she replied, kissing him softly.
One, two, three loud cracking noises sounded through the air, and Michael’s eyes grew wide. He let go of the side of her face, as his hands felt his chest; blood, spilling from three open wounds, as he looked up at her with terrified eyes.
“Oh, oh God, Michael!” Sydney sobbed, her hands reaching out to cup his face.
His knees hit the ground, his breathing heavier. She hit the floor as well, her cold, numb hands, running through his hair. He collapsed to her chest, as she screamed.
Sydney woke up in a cold sweat, the blankets twisted around her, as she sobbed. She sobbed for the feelings she couldn’t explain. She sobbed for her girls, who might not ever see their father again. Lastly, she sobbed for her husband, and how she lost him. Deep down, knowing he wouldn’t be coming home.
What more can I do
Oh baby, all I want for Christmas is you
Oh baby, all I want for Christmas is you
~
Sydney stood in the doorway of the living room, watching as her friends and family gathered. Talking, laughing, and smiling. Everything she wanted to be doing, but couldn’t quite pull off. Her heart breaking, every time she realized he wasn’t there with her.
The Christmas tree that her and the girl’s had decorated stood proudly in the corner of the room, displaying the white lights for all to see. It wasn’t a real tree this year, which Izzy pitched a fit about, but Sydney didn’t think it was right to take Michael’s job of picking out the perfect tree. Instead, she went to a department store and got a cheap knock off.
It held decorations collected over the years. Whether they be from ones the kids brought home from school, to the very few left that Sydney and Michael had bought the year they got married.
All the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere
So brightly everywhere
Abie was playing by the sofa with Will’s daughter, Nicole. They were laughing, the innocent sound like music to Sydney’s ears. Maggie, Michael’s old dog, was asleep in the chair trying to ignore as Taylor, Francie’s eighteen-month-old, played with her ears.
“Izzy, come play the piano for us darling,” Michael’s mother, Amelia, instructed her granddaughter.
“I don’t feel like it Nana,” she replied lazily, continuing to flip through a magazine.
“Come on, you always do.” She smiled warmly, “I always look forward to it.”
Izzy snapped her head in attention. “I said, not this year,” she bit out sharply.
Had Sydney not understood her daughter’s reasoning, she would have gotten a good verbal lashing for speaking to her grandmother like that. However, she knew that Michael taught her how to play, and she also knew that Isabelle hadn’t touched the piano since he was reported missing in action.
“We don’t need a piano to keep our pitch,” Will exclaimed, “We’re all professionals, aren’t we?”
Throughout the room people chuckled, as Amelia led everyone in familiar Christmas carols.
And the sound of childrens'
Laughter fills the air
And everyone is singing
I hear those sleigh bells ringing
Laughter fills the air
And everyone is singing
I hear those sleigh bells ringing
~
“Come on girls, I just want one picture.” Sydney fiddled with the camera, trying to get both of her daughters to stand next to each other and actually be civilized. “Abigail Katherine Vaughn, stop fidgeting.”
“It’s supposed to be family pictures, and Dad’s not here, so what’s the point?” Izzy asked sarcastically, rolling a piece of her brown hair around on her index finger.
“When he comes home he’s going to want to see our pictures!” Abie argued, placing both hands on her tiny hips.
Sydney tilted her head towards the ceiling, silently praying for something to stop their endless bickering. See what happens when you’re gone?
Santa won't you bring me
The one I really need
Won't you please bring my baby to me, quickly
The one I really need
Won't you please bring my baby to me, quickly
“Would you two, please stand still?” Sydney asked, sighing heavily.
Before either girl could reply, the doorbell rang. A slow, yet persistent ring that put Sydney’s teeth on edge. After her dream last night, every time that noise protruded her ears, she felt nauseous.
“Don’t either of you move,” she told them firmly, walking through the foyer to the front door.
She opened the door quickly, causing it to shake the coat rack when hitting it at an elevated force. Sydney’s holiday cheer was immediately removed from her face, her lips becoming a single line, her eye’s wide as saucers.
“Sydney?” He whispered, reaching his hand out to run it through her hair.
She flinched at his touch, almost as if it caused her pain. “You, you aren’t real.”
“I am,” he insisted, taking a step closer to her.
“You can’t be.” Her shaky hand cupped his stubbly cheek. Sydney stared at him, his hair a little longer than when he left, his eyes filled with more hurt than he used to have.
“I am,” he repeated, placing his cold hands on both sides of her neck, bringing his lips to kiss her forehead gently.
“Michael,” Sydney sobbed, clamping her eyes shut, a pathetic attempt to keep the tears from falling.
I don't want a lot for Christmas
This is all I'm asking for
I just wanna see my baby
Standing right outside my door
This is all I'm asking for
I just wanna see my baby
Standing right outside my door
“It’s alright,” he assured her, walking them farther into the house. “But, where are the girls?”
“Living room,” she chocked out, unable to form a whole sentence.
Michael smiled at her, holding her cheeks. “I love you,” he assured her, staring into her blood shot eyes.
With a nod of her head, Michael let go and walked in the direction of the girl’s bickering. Izzy was facing away from the door, hands stubbornly on her hips, arguing with Abie about something or other. He couldn’t make out the words; for he was too busy praising God for the sound of their voices.
Abie’s eyes grew wide, her hands dropped to her side, and her mouth clamped shut. “Daddy,” she whispered, almost as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Oh, butt munch, don’t frackin bring that up! How many times do I have to tell you…”
“No.” Abie shook her head, cutting her old sister off. “Daddy!”
Izzy spun on her heel, staring into a pair of eyes that matched her own. “Dad.” Her voice was flat, emotionless, unbelieving.
“Daddy!” Abie screamed, running past her sister and into her father’s arms.
Michael picked her up without a second thought, bringing his baby as close to his chest as he could. “Oh, you’ve gotten big,” he whispered quietly into her ear, “so big, Angel.”
When he looked up, Izzy was still staring at him. Shaking her head slowly and a faint smile spreading across her lips. “You’re home,” she whispered, almost inaudibly.
Putting Abie down on the ground Michael walked over and wrapped Izzy in his arms. “You look more and more like your mother every day,” he told her, tears coming to his eyes.
“I thought you left us.” Sobbing, her nails dug into his back.
“Never, I’ll always find my way back to you guys,” Michael promised, smiling as Sydney came into the room.
Abie pulled on the hem of Sydney’s shirt, demanding to be lifted into her mother’s arms. “I was right,” she whispered, cupping her hand around Sydney’s ear, “I knew Santa would bring him back to me, I just knew it.”
Tears came to Sydney’s eyes again as she kissed her husband on the cheek. Turning to Abie, she smiled. “Santa does have a way of giving us exactly what we want, huh, Baby.” She rested her chin on top of Abigail’s head, and shut her eyes for a minute. They were all together; her Christmas wish had come true.
Baby, All I want for Christmas is you
{Fin}
Song – “All I Want For Christmas Is You” By, Mariah Carey
I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to send out PMs to this or not.
I’m thinking I’ll let people read at their own risk…
Or, I might just do it sometime after Christmas.
Hope you enjoyed it, Katy especially.
Luv ya, Ma Dea.
xxx, Ash