A Christmas To Remember
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing in this story.
"Okay," Bill spoke to Tom. "Wrap it around here like so…and…voila!" The twins were stringing the lights on the pine tree that scented the house freshly. Their mother was with their step-dad visiting his side of the family.
"Bill. Bill! BILL!" The boys' hands fumbled with the wires and plugs. Tom was determined to do this part himself, but Bill pouted and whined his way in. To take some pressure off of them, he had called up Georg and Gustav earlier that day to help.
"Tom! No, I got it," Bill said. He then noticed his brother fumbling with some of the ornaments they had recently place on the branches. "Its fine, Tomi. Leave it alone," he scolded. The boys stepped back and gazed at the tree. Their friends entered and studied the work.
"Interesting," Georg said. Half of the tree had silver, gold, it looked like a traditional Christmas tree. The other half, however, had mostly red and green. "You two have separate personalities, obviously. But, aren't you supposed to have the same thoughts, feelings, and such? Like a telepathy thing?"
Tom asked, "Where in the world did you hear that?"
"The Suite Life of Zack and Cody," the long haired guest responded.
Bill chuckled at the memory. "Oh, yeah! I remember that one! I think we taped it." Bill grasped the remote and flipped on the television. He scrolled down to where it read "list" on the DVR, and clicked. Searching the titles, he found episodes of The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, SpongeBob, The Fairly Odd Parents, and some of the Christmas specials; three in particular that had been watched numerous times by all of the boys; The Year Without A Santa Clause, Jack Frost, and Charlie Brown Christmas.
"Oh," Gustav piped. "Pick that one!" He pointed at one of the others that hadn't been watched just yet, Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.
"Maybe later. Right now, we need to figure out how we want the tree."
Tom scanned the tree, distinguishing the difference in the two sides. His side, the silver and gold traditional part, and Bill's, the red and green splashed with blue to show his independence. "We need help badly."
Georg, strolling over to the tree, muttered, "It's so easy." He began to mix the colored ornaments together. Soon, the whole tree was a big splatter of red, green, gold, silver, and a bit of blue. He stepped back, admiring his work.
Gustav clutched his and Georg's coats and said, "Well, we must be off. I know I've still got some stuff to do at home before the rest of my family gets there. I just hope chaos doesn't break loose when I attempt to bake." That last statement earned him a few chuckles.
The two guests left, leaving Tom and Bill to be consumed be silence. Bill turned on The Year Without A Santa Clause. He hadn't finished watching it, so it began where he left off, right at the Miser Brothers. "I love these songs," he said almost in a whisper.
Tom giggled at his brother's child like innocence. He joined Bill on the couch, but, as opposed to his twin, he was leaning back, while Bill sat with his shoulders hunched, clearly into the TV movie.
Snow Miser's song began, and Bill began to murmur the words in a singing voice. Once that song ended and they had moved onto Heat Miser's song, that's when he heard his brother begin to sing a bit, too. We're they really that different? As separate as fire and ice?
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That night, Tom turned a bit more in his sleep than normal. Suddenly his eyes flashed open and he realized what caused his quaking.
Bill was shaking his brother harshly now, saying, "Tomi, I heard a noise on the roof. Maybe it's Santa!"
Tom sighed and said, "Bill, you are eighteen years old. You know that Santa doesn't exist anymore."
"That's a lie! I heard it! I really did, Tomi!" He rushed to the open door and called, "Come on! I'll prove it!"
Tom hurried after his brother, slightly assuming, since Bill was in the holiday spirit more than anyone should be, that he'd had tried his first eggnog with alcohol. But, his twin was right about one thing. There was a loud noise on the roof that soon moved to the living room.
The boys rushed to the archway and gazed in amazement. There was a, for lack of a better word, fat man by the tree. He wore a red suit trimmed in white, black as coal boots and gloves, and he carried a brown bag with a gold threaded rope. He looked at the twins and smiled. "Hello, boys."
Tom's mouth was agape in disbelief, whereas Bill's was open in naïve happiness. He was right, Tom thought.
The old man came up to the both of them, and said, "It's been a while now, hasn't it?"
Bill nodded in agreement, "But its okay. We'd rather little kids be getting this amazing stuff than us."
The man replied, "I know. I know. But, I'm afraid I have already set the presents down." He knew that the twins would beg him to take them back and give them to someone else, so he said, "But, don't you worry. I've got more than my back can handle. Everyone will get something."
Tom questioned, "Well, what if your back gives out? Who'll deliver them then?"
The man motioned them to the fireplace…
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For the rest of the night, the twins helped Santa deliver the presents, content in the ability to help.
Once they were back home, the boys waved goodbye to Santa, and headed inside.
Bill shivered as Tom shut the door. He glanced at the clock which read 4:36AM. They rested on the couch for a minute, and then Bill dove into the presents that had been set perfectly under the tree.
Tom watched his brother coddle each of the gifts. A thought suddenly hinged in his mind, Are we really that different? "Hey, Billa?"
Bill paused to look at Tom. "Yeah?"
"Are we really that different?"
The question had haunted Bill for most of the night. Every time he'd glance at his brother, he felt a bleak emptiness. He finally stuttered, "I-I don't know. Maybe. Why do you ask?"
Tom watched pain form in his younger twin's eyes. "No reason," he lied. "Just curious."
Bill noticed Tom's eyes shy away from his own glance. He moved over to the couch, his shoulder brushing his twin's.
Tom looked back at him and leaned forward, their lips pressing, the warmth consuming the both of them, mixing itself with passion. They broke apart after a while, and Tom said, "This is a Christmas for the books, eh?"