Portia opened her eyes and stretched. Sunlight streamed over her, reflecting off the warm honey colored walls. She smiled when she realized she was no longer in the hospital. She stretched again, rolling to the side as she did and almost fell off the bed. The twin bed. She missed her bed. Her queen size bed. And her bedroom. In her house. It was time to go home. First thing tomorrow. But today was Christmas day and she was spending it with the people she loved the most.
Glancing at her phone, she realized it was barely seven. She slipped onto the carpeted floor of her mother’s guest room and scrolled through the Bible app for a text for her day.
She stopped at one of her favorites:
The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.
She read the text from Isaiah 58:11 again even though she had memorized it long ago. But now she committed the promise to her heart. He would satisfy her needs, strengthen her. Make her the vibrant healthy woman He intended her to be.
As she knelt by her bed and whispered her prayer of thanksgiving and praise, she claimed that promise again for the day ahead and all the others that would come after.
When she finally shuffled her way downstairs, she found her mother was still not up. She was glad. This way she could surprise her with breakfast. Her mother deserved the break and for Portia, this would be a Christmas present to herself. She hadn’t cooked anything in more than a week. Her fingers were itching.
She pulled out her phone to find a playlist for making breakfast. Her fingers paused over the text message icon. There were all the regular random Merry Christmas messages from the people she only heard from once a year. Unfortunately, there was no message from the one person she wanted to hear from. The person she hadn’t heard from since the night he visited her at the hospital. The person who had been a prime focus of her prayers.
She had been praying that this Christmas would be a special one for Khai. One where he opened his heart to knowing Christ a little better. Portia hadn’t forgotten about all the issues Khai struggled with related to the man who had caused him to go to prison. But she wanted him to be able to let them go. She knew what it felt like to rest everything in God’s hands and the freedom and lightness that came from leaving God to take care of the things that burdened us the most. She wanted him to have that feeling too, because he was her friend and she cared about him.
This Christmas she wanted that for all her friends. For Milo, Brady, Casey, for all her employees. Even for Barry, her ex who she was finally starting to forgive. But most of all, she wanted it for Khai, because she felt that right now, he really needed it. And the truth was, she needed him. She knew it was selfish and stupid and unwise to want him to accept Christ so she could love him the way she really wanted to, but it was what she wanted. There was no sense in lying to herself about it, especially since God already knew her heart.
Merry Christmas. Praying for you this season and always. Hoping this New Year will be a year of freedom in Christ for you. Love, PJ
She hesitated on the last two words, but then decided to send them anyway. She did love Khai. He was one of her best friends and if there was ever a day he should know that, it was today.
She put on her Chillin in a Cool Yule playlist and jammed to Louis Armstrong as she pulled out flour, molasses and ginger to start gingerbread pancakes.
“Mhmm, what is that smell?”
Portia looked up just as Derek wandered into the kitchen in his pajamas. She smirked.
“I should have known the smell of food would wake you up. No matter where you guys are, you seem to smell it the minute I take something off the stove. You’re almost as bad as Khai.”
“Not a bad way to wake up though.” Derek grabbed a hot pancake off the stack before Portia could slap him with the spatula. “Ha! Too fast for you...ahh...ahh.”
Portia tried to frown but ended up laughing as she watched her brother burn his tongue from the hot pancake. “Serves you right for not waiting.”
“Ump...so worf it.”
Portia shook her head. “You’re shameless.”
He grabbed the syrup from the fridge and tipped some of it onto the pancake in his palm.
“Derek, get a plate and stop eating like an animal.”
Portia and Derek both looked up as their mother wandered into the kitchen, her head still tied in a scarf. Yvonne pulled a plate from the shelf and handed it to her son.
“Thamfs.” Derek plopped what was left of the pancake onto the plate and settled himself by the kitchen counter.
“Good morning, sweethearts.”
Portia smiled as her mother kissed her on the cheek before doing the same with Derek.
“It’s so nice to start my day with both my children.”
The smile that stretched across her mother’s face told Portia it really was special to Yvonne. Portia bit her lip and glanced around at them. How much longer would this tradition last? Things were changing. Who knew where life would take them? Instead of worrying about it though, she was going to sit back and enjoy the day God had given them right here, right now.
“What’s on your mind?” Derek asked. His eyes fixed on her.
Portia turned back to the pan and flipped the pancake. “Why do you think something is on my mind?”
“Well,” Derek wiped his hand on a napkin. “I may have been slacking in my duties recently but I am still your twin. I do pick up on a few things every now and then.”
Portia bit her lip. “Just thinking about how things will probably change a lot next year.”
“Change is a part of life, hun,” Yvonne pulled eggs and vegetables from the fridge.
“I know,” Portia said. “And I am learning to be more flexible with things. But I think, that for you,” she looked at her brother. “Next year will probably be...exciting.”
Derek kept his eyes focused on her. “What are you getting at?”
Portia shrugged. “I don’t know, you and Morgan maybe getting married.”
He kept looking at her as if he knew there was more. She took a deep breath. She might as well tell him now.
“And with me leaving Solid.”
Derek’s fork clattered to his plate. Her mother dropped the green peppers.
“Where you think you going?” Yvonne asked, ignoring the vegetables on the ground.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Even though she answered her mother, Portia’s eyes remained fixed on her brother. “I just...I need to take a break.”
“You’ve been thinking about this a long time.”
Derek’s words were more statement than question. Portia nodded.
He sat back and sighed, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “Why?”
She shrugged. “It’s not fun for me anymore, Derek.”
And there it was. The truth she fought for the better part of the last year. The stress underneath all the stress related to Solid. The thing she had been unwilling to admit, because of all that admitting it would mean.
“I’m always tired and frustrated, feeling like I need to catch up. But most of all, we’re always fighting.” She stepped towards the counter. “I don’t want anything to get between us. You’re my brother, my twin and I want to be able to share and celebrate life with you. I want to be able to support you when you have a problem and not be against you. But I feel like in the last year, maybe longer, we have been against each other more than we have been for each other. And most times it has to do with Solid.”
He raised his hands helplessly. “Okay, so we’ll restructure. Take some of the pressure off you.”
Portia smiled, shaking her head slowly.
He sighed. “You really want out?”
She nodded.
“Even if I told you I agreed with you and we’re only looking at a thirty percent investment with Triple Crown?”
Portia’s smile widened. “Even then - although I am very happy to hear that.”
He reached across the counter and squeezed her hands. “You sure about this, P?”
“I’m sure.”
He scrubbed his face with his hands briefly. “Okay. If this is what you want. If this is what makes you happy, we’ll make it work.”
“Really?” She straightened a little. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad? No. Scared that I can’t do this without you? Yes.”
She walked around the counter and put her arms around his neck. “You’ll do fine. And you’re not without me. I’m still here for you. Always will be.”
She planted a loud noisy kiss on his check. He cringed and eased her away. “Alright, alright, no need to slobber all over me.”
She laughed and went back to the pancake, barely keeping it from burning.
“So what are you going to do?” Yvonne asked. She’d been beating eggs silently as her children discussed their company.
“Whatever makes me happy,” Portia poured batter into the pan.
“Which is?” Derek grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter.
Portia glanced behind her at her brother and grinned. “Right now? Cooking.”
He grunted. “Should have seen that one coming.”
“And I want to take some time for myself. Figure out what works for me. Probably gonna spend some time with Casey too.”
The apple rolled out of Derek’s hand. He barely caught it before it hit the ground. “You want to tell me all the surprises you got in store before I start trying to eat again?”
Portia laughed. “That’s the last one. She came to visit me in the hospital a couple times. It was okay talking to her. Weird, but okay. We had to set some rules, however.”
“Really, P?”
“Hey, they weren’t that bad. I just told her it would be hard for me to talk about Douglas so I needed to avoid that topic for a while.”
“What did she say to that?” Yvonne asked.
“She said she understood,” Portia said. “We’re supposed to meet up after the new year.”
“Well, baby sis, it sounds like you’re turning over a whole new leaf,” Derek walked into the kitchen and put an arm around Portia’s shoulders. “I just want you to know that whatever happens, I’m here for you.”
Yvonne reached over to touch Portia’s arm. “We both are.”
Portia blinked back tears. “Thanks guys.”
“You’re ...oww!” Derek pulled back his hand as a hot spatula slapped his hand before he could grab another pancake.
Portia laughed out loud as her mother glared at him.
“No touching the pots!”