Charles rolled in the living-room just when Erik was opening an old dusty box.
"What do you have here, dear?" Charles asked, curious. From his wheelchair, he couldn't see what was inside.
"I found this in the attic." Erik pulled out a glass Christmas decoration: a small fir tree speckled with snow. "I thought we could use them."
Their Christmas tree had stood naked for almost a week already. Maybe it was time to bring some happiness in the mansion, which had felt quite empty since the kids had left for college.
Charles took the box in his lap and looked through it. He remembered those decorations: the needle felt deer, the silk ribbons, the snowmen made of cotton… They were the ones he had put on the tree with his father, a long time ago. He turned to Erik. "Let's do it!" he said.
Charles took care of the lower part of the tree while Erik was hanging baubles and garlands on the higher branches. Soon only the bright star remained in the box. When Charles was a small child, his father always took him on his shoulders to help him reach the top and put the star. Now… He sighed.
He must have broadcasted his thoughts because Erik frowned and said: "Hold on fast." He stretched out his hands and focused on Charles. A second later, Charles was floating in his wheelchair. Up, and up, until he could touch the ceiling.
Erik handed him the star with a smile. Charles took it and put it on the tree, its long tail of pearls and velvet cascading to the ground.
Erik gently put him down. They both stepped back to look at their masterpiece, hand in hand. Maybe Christmas could still be a happy time, after all.