As I begin to drive through Athens, I head West instead of South. I drive unaware of my destination. Ten minutes later I pull into my mother’s drive. It’s 6:30 p.m. on a Saturday, I knew she wouldn’t be home. I walk through the unlocked front door. Empty bottles no longer decorate only her bedroom. The living room and kitchen are cluttered with her remnants. My heart aches at the confirmation that nothing has changed in her life. My absence doesn’t cause her to reach out or visit me. For my mother the entire universe revolves around her.
Briskly I flee from my former home to the safety of my car. I set my course for Columbia and my new family. A family that needs me, supports me, and misses me when I am away. A family I depend on as they depend on me. My new family and my new life far away from my mother.
Like my drive home from Adrian and Winston’s wedding, my mind attempts to process my new reality, my lovely daughter, my new job, and Hamilton’s actions. I count all of my blessings before I ponder all things to do with Hamilton. His kiss made it clear to everyone that he considers me more than a friend. I must wait for his next text or phone call to see where he plans our relationship to go. Long distance relationships suck. Will he really move us forward? Will he treat me like a girlfriend? How will our friendship change? I fear that he might follow through on his promise to surprise me with a visit before he heads to Arizona. I must arrange for us to meet in Athens if he mentions it again.
I know I should load Liberty in my car, drive to Athens, and immediately share my secret with Hamilton. I vowed to reveal our daughter to him prior to the start of next baseball season—I’m down to one month, now. I have two major focuses for January. I start my new job and I need to introduce Liberty to her father in the next thirty days.
Alma’s home fills with family and excitement as Christmas morning arrives. Keeping her family tradition, we gather around the Christmas tree to open presents still in our pajamas. Alma dawns her Santa hat while passing out gifts. Her grandchildren make it their mission to teach Liberty to open gifts.
My daughter giggles and claps while watching others rip gift wrap to reveal the present beneath. The boys pull a corner open for Libby to grab. She simply looks to them to finish the task for her. Trenton and Taylor’s children decide it’s easier for them to open the gifts and allow Liberty to cheer them on. They assist in removing new toys from their boxes, so she may play with them.
I save her gifts from her daddy in my room to open later in front of the webcam.
Waking I groan. I lie completely still willing myself back to sleep, back to my dream. Of course, this never works. Now staring at the ceiling, I smile remembering the warmth of Hamilton’s arms when he held me next to our Christmas tree. It’s the kind of dream I never want to end.
Hamilton and I played Santa after our four-year-old daughter fell asleep. While he assembled her little bicycle with tassels, a bell, a basket, and training wheels; I filled her stocking and placed other gifts under the tree. We laughed and teased while reading and rereading the instructions to assemble the bike. He vowed to pay extra for assembly from now on.
With Santa gifts all ready, we each nibbled a cookie from Santa’s plate and chased it down with milk. Hamilton pointed out we were positioned below the mistletoe. That’s where I woke up. I was snuggled in his arms as we kissed under the mistletoe.
As upset as I am the dream ended, I’m grateful it wasn’t a nightmare as many of my dreams seem to be lately.