Disclaimer: Major Crimes belongs to TNT and the amazing James Duff.
A/N: After watching "Chain Reaction," I had to write this. The bunnies demanded it. The songs Emily has as ringtones from Ricky and Jack are, respectively, Hey Brother by Avicii and Don't You Worry Child by Swedish House Mafia. Just in case anyone cares. lol. Wishing you and yours a very wonderful new year. Enjoy.
Hope
With every swell of the music, Emily floated across the polished, glistening wooden floor. Her eyes closed as she continued moving gracefully, the music filling her with its warmth. Two steps forward followed by a simple turn in fifth position. She couldn't hold back a soft laugh after she gave a slight hop at the end. Her coach would have had her head for that if he had been there. Wasting her talents on frivolous play, he'd have snidely remarked. All work and no play was her life nowadays. But that was how it had to be if she wanted to be the best.
"What if I'm far from home?" Her phone started to sing suddenly from a nearby table. She glanced towards her cellphone, frowning and wondering why he was calling her now of all times. "Oh, Brother, I will hear you call." She sighed and grabbed her phone, answering it.
"Ricky, I swear to God, if you're calling to bug me about—"
"Merry Christmas to you, too, sis," Ricky snorted on the other end of the phone.
"What do you want?"
"Have you talked to Dad lately?"
Biting back her groan, Emily glanced up at the ceiling, feeling the familiar annoyance that came at even the tiniest mention of her father nowadays. "No. And I don't expect to. Why?"
"Just wondering."
This time she did groan. "Just get on with it, Ricky. What does he want this time?"
"I don't know. He just asked if I had talked to you lately."
She blinked before she shook her head. She felt a headache coming on. "He's up to something."
"Yeah. Probably. But that's Dad for you, Emily."
Wasn't that the truth? She sighed, running her free hand over her face. Why couldn't they have just postponed Christmas this year, considering everything?
"You're still coming out here to Mom's for Christmas, right?"
She glanced towards her packed bag near the door and shook her head. "Yeah. I'm still coming."
"Well, maybe you can kill two birds with one stone and stay over at Dad's this year."
It was a long time before she spoke again. Mostly because she was trying to hold back from screaming at her annoying little brother. "I swear to God, I don't care if it will devastate Mom, I'll kill you for that," she growled. She knew exactly what Ricky was trying to get at with this latest scheme.
"It has to be you. I mean, let's be honest. He'd know something was up if I stayed with him."
"I'm not snooping on Dad, Ricky!" She couldn't remember how many times she had repeated that particular line over the past several weeks.
"Don't think of it as that, then. Think of it as—"
Clenching her teeth, she hung up and cut him off at once. She wasn't going to open that can of worms. If Ricky wanted to, then so be it. But she was not going to be the one to ruin what little family they did have. She tossed her phone down onto the table and headed off towards her bedroom.
"There was a time," her phone sang out again, "I used to look into my father's eyes."
Emily groaned loudly, letting her head rest against the door frame briefly. The universe seemed destined to hate her for some reason this year. She whirled around, snatching her phone from the table again. She drew in a sharp breath to keep the irritation out of her voice.
"Hey, Dad," she said, a faint smile on her face.
"I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?" her father asked.
She felt herself relax a bit more hearing how calm he sounded today. It was a good day, then. "No. Not really. What'd going on?"
"Well, I was just sitting here thinking about tomorrow, you and Ricky coming home for Christmas, and, you know..." His voice trailed off.
Closing her eyes, she hung her head. She wouldn't ask or hint at what he wanted. Not this time. She picked at the hem of her long sleeve shirt and waited. He could do this. He could ask. He could make the effort. That was all anyone really ever asked of him. Just to at least make the effort.
He sighed loudly into the phone after a few moments of silence. "I know you're probably wanting to spend all your time over at your mom's for the holidays, get to know your, uh, new brother and all that, but, you know, I was just thinking since it'd be crowded over there and that, that maybe you'd like to stay with me instead? I've, uh, well, I got a spare room in the new apartment. Has a great view, too. But, yeah, I mean, I understand if you'd rather stay at Sharon's instead... since that's where the family Christmas is this year."
Bitterness mixed with sadness enveloped her instantly. She closed her eyes once more and drew in a slow breath. If she said no, her dad would spend Christmas all alone. Ricky certainly wasn't going to head over there. Unless that was to catch Dad in a lie that was. Her dad may not have been the best father, but he didn't deserve to spend Christmas all alone. Even her mother would agree to that.
"Sweetheart, it's all right. Really. I get it. I just thought that it wouldn't hurt to ask. But it's fine. I understand," her dad said quietly a moment later. "Maybe next Christmas when things aren't so... new." He then cleared his throat. "Merry Christmas, Emily."
"Dad, wait," she pleaded, feeling the familiar ache in her chest once more. She wasn't going to say 'yes' because of Ricky. Or even because her mom had not-so-subtly hinted that this was coming down the pipeline. She was going to agree for herself. Because it was the right thing to do. And she did miss him. Even though, he had been out of her life for so long. But he had tried. And had continued to try to be a part of her and Ricky's lives even after the divorce was finalized. Which, according to Ricky, was solely because Dad was going to use the divorce to manipulate all of them to get his way again every chance he could get... regardless of the fact that their dad hadn't even said one bad thing to her about Rusty thus far. "Tell me more about this room with a view."
"Really? I mean, Emily, don't feel like you have to agree because I'm your father."
She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "No, Dad. I mean, you're right. It is going to be rather cramped over there with Ricky and Rusty and Mom. And it's not like I want to overwhelm Rusty either."
"Yeah."
There was something in his voice then gave her pause for a moment before she shrugged it off. "So, sure, I'd like to stay over there with you for a bit. Give us a chance to catch up." Catch up... now there was a phrase that always came around between them.
"Great! Unfortunately, I'll probably be at work when you get in, but I'll talk to my super and have him let you in. I'll see you tomorrow, Em bug."
She laughed softly, rolling her eyes at hearing his nickname for her. He only ever used it when he was really happy. Which nowadays she knew were few and far between.
"Night, Dad." She then ended the call and gently set the phone down on the table. Maybe this was just the thing he needed. With a quiet sigh, she headed back towards her room.
Her eyes caught the jewelry box on the dresser soon after. Yet another twinge of sadness stabbed at her insides. She slowly walked over to it, opening the box a moment later. A soft melody started at once. Biting her lip, she watched the tiny ballerina spin slowly inside. She had been seven when her dad gave it to her for Christmas. It had been his going-away present that year. Ricky had been so jealous that their mom had to distract him with those ridiculous pinecone abominations. Though, he was always a momma's boy.
"Now, sweetheart," her father's voice echoed in her mind. "Don't cry. It's okay. It is. I've just got to go away for a few days. Not long. I promise. I just, well, Mom's not really happy with me right now because I did something stupid so I'm going to try and make things right with her by going away for a few days. But before I go, I want to tell you something. Something that only you can know, all right? Can you do that for me? Can you keep it a secret? Good girl." His voice lowered to a whisper. "Whenever you start to feel sad or miss me or whatever, I want you to open this box and know that I love you very much, Emily, and that I'm always here with you, even if I'm not really. Shh. It's all right. No. No, sweetheart. I won't miss your recital. Shh. I won't. I won't ever miss one. I promise."
But he had missed that recital. And so many others afterwards as well. She closed her eyes, listening to the melody for a few moments before closing the lid once more. She wasn't seven anymore. Her childhood memories were slipping from her and leaving behind the ugly truth. One that she didn't have the heart to face quite yet. Nor would she ever, she guessed at this point.
With a heavy sigh, she flopped back onto her bed. She hoped for all their sakes that Ricky was wrong. That it was just her annoying little brother trying to get back at their dad for making Ricky look like an ass to Mom again. Because if it wasn't... Their dad was trying now, harder than he ever had done before. Wasn't that enough?
The next day, she had been glad when she saw her mom standing at the gate waiting for her. She had spent all of the previous night tossing and turning from one nightmare to the next about her father. She was pretty certain that if she had seen him first thing, it'd be painfully obvious that something was up. Her arms were around her mom before she could stop herself. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed the familiar warmth of home and love.
"How was your flight?"
Emily shrugged. "Long and boring." Her eyes then darted to the young man standing awkwardly beside her mother. He seemed so uncomfortable and unsure of himself. Though, she guessed that was due to the warm greetings Ricky had given him during their first meeting. "Nice to finally meet you in person, Rusty," she announced as friendly as she could. She caught his soft laugh instantly before she glanced around. "Don't tell me Ricky got lost between here and Palo Alto."
"No. Your brother said he'd met us at the condo later."
Emily laughed, rolling her eyes. "Figures." She slowly started towards the doors with Rusty and her mom at her sides. "So, I don't suppose you'd be willing to make a bit of a detour over to Dad's first, would you? Just so I can drop my stuff off. I'd only be a minute or two."
Her mother stopped briefly for a moment and glanced at her. "You're staying with your father?"
"Ricky didn't tell you?"
Her mom shook her head before she continued again, clearly mulling over the new information in her head. She was likely trying to figure out if she'd later regret her earlier prodding or not, Emily decided.
"Yeah, well, Dad's working today, so I won't see him until the morning anyway. But if it's a problem, Mom, I can just go afterwards."
"No. It's no problem at all." Her mom smiled before resting a hand on her shoulder gently. "I'm so happy you could make it, Emily." She then laughed. "All four of us. Under one roof."
"Yeah." Four.
When she returned later to her father's apartment, her bags still in hand, she saw a light sparkling from underneath the door. At least she didn't have to look like an idiot talking to his building manager again. She smiled faintly before she knocked. The door opened shortly afterwards to reveal a slightly disheveled version of her father. She knew that he had been having a rough time. They all were really.
"Emily!" Her dad chuckled before he hesitantly stepped aside to allow her inside. When she stopped, though, to hug him, she felt him tense against her for half a moment.
"Hey, Dad. It's good to see you." She then pulled back, her eyes finally catching a glimpse of his apartment. It certainly was not anywhere close to the elegance of her mother's condo.
"I know it's not much," he said quietly, apologizing. "But it's home for now." He grabbed her bag from her. "Here. Let me show you your room." He turned and ushered her towards one of the doors on her left.
Her eyes glanced back and forth around the room as they walked. The first thing she noticed was how sparsely furnished it was. There was a tiny folding table with badly scratched wooden chairs facing the TV, and that was it besides the boxes littering the floor. He opened the door to her room a moment later. She inhaled sharply when she saw it.
There was a brand new bed in it, complete with new bedding, and a dresser with a nightstand. To her left was a large drape that she guessed hid the window. It seemed to her that her room was the only one completely furnished in the entire place. Though, she knew she hadn't seen the whole place, but really what more could she see in the cramped, rundown apartment?
"If you want, I can-"
"It's perfect," Emily croaked, trying to hold back her emotions. Had Ricky seen this place? Had Mom for that matter? She forced a smile towards her dad and hugged him once more. It was a start. A very sad, depressing start, but it at least was one. He was trying to fix things the best he could. "Thank you, Dad."
He nodded jerkily. "I should let you get some rest." He then pointed across the way. "Bathroom's right there. The, uh, hot water is on the fritz all over this damn place, but it should be fixed tomorrow morning for you." He then kissed the top of her head. "Sleep well, Em bug."
She forced her smile and nodded back. Sleep? How could anyone sleep in a place like this? She watched her father slowly walk out, closing the door quietly behind him. She sighed quietly and looked around her temporary room. He had to have bought everything either last night or this morning by her estimate. She walked towards the bed, finding a tag still attached to the comforter.
He was trying. Dear god was that so very obvious. But his trying only made her wonder why. Was this another of his grand schemes that Ricky always went on about? Or was there more to it? She wasn't certain which one it was at this point. Only time would tell, as it always did. But she hoped that whatever the reason that it was because he was changing for the better finally.
Her first morning of waking up at her father's apartment, she found herself feeling even more depressed than the previous night. She had woken up to the delightful smells of him cooking, like she usually did whenever he was around. However, she found the food set aside for her on the crappy folding card table and her father nowhere to be found. He always had made the effort before to eat breakfast with her.
"Dad?" Her eyes darted about the room as she wondered where he could be. She saw no note anywhere, and he had a long history of leaving those. So he had to be home still. She noticed his shoes then by the door, a habit that she knew her mother had drilled into him long ago. Sighing quietly, she glanced towards the only other door in the apartment. Making her mind up soon after, she headed towards it, knocking gently against the aged wood. "Dad? Are you in here?" she asked quietly as she slowly opened the door.
The moment her eyes found her dad fast asleep in bed, she felt her mood turn even more somber. He must have been so exhausted after getting her room all ready. She then noticed the small family photo of all four Raydors on the nightstand beside him. It had been taken in happier times. Before it had all gone to hell. She glanced away when she caught sight of his tarnished wedding ring in front of the photo. If only childhood fantasies were real and wishes were easily granted...
"Emily?" her dad mumbled, his head lifting slightly off the pillow as he looked towards her groggily.
"I'm here, Dad." She flashed him a faint smile. When he started to push himself up, she held a hand up, realizing that he needed sleep more than to see her. "No. It's fine. Get some rest. We'll talk later." She caught his instant look of rejection before he expertly pushed it away and pretended everything was wonderful again.
"I made you breakfast. It's out on the table for you."
"I know. I saw. I was just coming in here to thank you actually."
"Oh." He then shrugged. "Tried to remember how you liked your eggs, but-"
"It's good, Dad. Really." She could hear the uneasiness, wondering how everything could have changed so suddenly in the past few years. First, her mother decided to foster some runaway. Then, her dad came back into her life out of the blue, which wasn't really all that surprising but his making an effort to stay in her life was. Then there was adoption talk that led to divorce. Or rather divorce led to adoption. It was all very complicated, it seemed.
"You heading over to your mother's then?"
"Uh, yeah, I suppose." She tugged on her shirt awkwardly and glanced down at the floor. "I mean, she didn't really give me a time I should head over there this morning." She watched her dad nod slowly.
"Well, if you need some money or, you know, you could take my car if you want... I shouldn't need it today."
She shook her head, though. "No. That's all right. I'll just take a cab over there. But thank you." He shrugged, his eyes briefly resting on their family photo for a moment before he looked away. His eyes screamed how remorseful he was of the past.
"I'll see you later, then?"
"Tonight. We'll catch up then."
"Good. Because I want to hear all about your big contract this year."
It took everything in her not to let her face fall. It had been the first Christmas in a long while that she didn't have one. Not that she was going to darken her dad's Christmas with all that nonsense. He had bigger things to worry about than that. She forced her smile a bit more before she turned to leave.
"Emily?" She stopped the second she heard her dad's voice. Slowly turning back, she controlled her breathing and held his sad look. She couldn't let him know something was wrong. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "I know it's not easy on you, having to be stuck in the middle again."
"It's fine, Dad. Really. It is."
"No it's not, but thank you." He gave her a small smile. "You've got your mother's heart, Emily. Never lose it." He then chuckled quietly. "Just don't tell her I said that. You know how she gets whenever I compliment her. Always looking for the ulterior motive."
She nodded and then waved a small goodbye before walking back out, grabbing her purse and breakfast on the way. Maybe a little shopping with Mom would help her forget all the sadness and despair that was around them now. After all, it couldn't make this Christmas any worse than it already was in her mind.
Or maybe it could. After hearing Rusty's sad story about his biological mother as they were decorating Mom's condo, Emily thought about crawling into bed and never coming out ever again. Bitterness. Sadness. Loneliness. Heartbreak. Even death itself came to visit so far. Killing Santa-now there was the perfect metaphor for how she felt nowadays. She had a feeling her dad felt similar. Like all the good and hope had been taken.
Drama queen, Ricky would have called her. But what did he know anyway? He was still whining about the stupid Christmas village that their mother had forgotten to take out of storage. Didn't he see that their mother was still coming to terms with the divorce like Dad was? No, of course Ricky didn't see that. All he cared about was that stupid village. Why would he ever stop for a minute and wonder why it was that she forgot it in the first place?
Their family had been ripped apart this year. Mostly because of Dad, sure, but Mom beared some responsibility too. Dragging Dad down to her office out of the blue and blindsiding him with the choice of either divorce or adoption? What did she think would happen? Honestly. He was just starting to get his life in order, and she threw him a curveball out of nowhere.
When Emily returned to her dad's later that evening, she found him sitting at the folding card table writing something. She supposed it was for one of his cases or something.
"Sorry I'm late."
He waved off her apologies and gave her another faint smile. "How are your brothers?"
She shrugged, setting her purse and bags down before joining him at the table. Brothers, as in plural. See, Ricky, it's all in your head. Dad doesn't have a problem with Rusty at all, she thought. "Fine. Rusty was decorating the tree with all of Mom's gazillion angels, while Ricky sat and whined about the stupid Christmas village." She heard her dad's resulting snort instantly.
"And you came back here after that?" he joked, glancing across the table at her.
"Yeah, well, after Mom pretty much bailed on us again for her dead Santas...you know."
"Oh." The light atmosphere vanished instantly. Her dad then rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "She'd have rather been there with you, Emily."
She couldn't hold back her soft laugh. How ironic it was that her father was making excuses for her mother when she always did the same about him.
"Let's talk about something else, all right?" He nodded slowly.
"So what's your next role? Giselle?"
She swallowed instantly and forced a smile. There was a question she hadn't been expecting.
"Not exactly." When she caught his eyes narrowing, she elaborated further. "I'm just, you know, waiting to hear back. It's the holidays, after all, so everyone's busy with that."
He nodded slightly before he reached across the table and laid a gentle hand on her arm. "You'll get something. They'd be fools otherwise to pass you up."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Whatever you say, Dad." He went back to writing whatever it was he was working on. She watched him for a few minutes before the little annoying voice, that sounded strangely enough like Ricky, won. "What about you? Anything new in your life?"
It was now his turn to scoff. "You mean other than your mom divorcing me?"
She felt the swift punch to her stomach instantly. "Dad, I-"
"No, Emily. It's fine. I know you didn't mean it like that." He then sighed and shrugged. "About had one of my big cases all wrapped up in a nice bow thanks to Sharon's department, only they got lucky and wiggled out of it thanks to her."
"Oh."
He shrugged. "It's not like I lost. It just wasn't as big of a payday as first thought." He then sighed heavily before he glanced at her. "Which isn't all bad, I guess."
She nodded, wondering what she was missing this time.
"So, do you have plans tomorrow again or could I borrow you for a bit, do you think?"
Why did this have to be so difficult and tragic? Honestly. "Well, Mom's holding the Christmas party tomorrow so..."
"Ah." The corner of his lip twitched slightly before he stood up and headed away from her. "So, you'll be busy over there again."
"Not necessarily," she replied with a listless shrug. "It all depends on how quickly Mom wraps up her case, I think."
"Yeah." Her dad sighed, his hands coming up to rub at his face before he groaned. "I think I'm just going to go out for a walk. Need anything?"
"No. I'm good." She then watched him walk towards the door and leave. It was now official. This was the worst Christmas she had ever had. Why in the world had she come to LA this year anyway? She knew this was what would have happened. She'd be forced to choose between her parents. Like she always had to do.
The following morning, she wondered if she was forever cursed with bad luck now. When she had woken that morning, she found the two discarded wine bottles in the trash. Her dad hadn't even bothered to hide them. A sign that he was giving up again. And all because she refused to spend time with him. The rational side of her told her that made her dad sound petty. But the irrational side unfortunately won the battle.
With a quick glance towards her dad's closed bedroom door, she sighed and quickly bagged the empty wine bottles into a brown paper bag. She needed help because there was no way that she could handle her dad on her own. And it had been Ricky who had been suspicious in the first place after all. Maybe he knew of a plan to fix everything before she-they-lost their dad forever.
Who would have thought that she'd have been glad to see her mom on the phone when she came over? She gave her a quick hug before she headed over to Ricky, who knew immediately that something was up. With their mom's back turned, she flashed the empty bottles and caught his slight shake of head.
He was disappointed? Really? The man who barely spoke more than a few sentences to their father anymore since the fiasco with Mom had happened? She watched him take the bag from her expertly, trying hard not to remark snidely that Ricky certainly knew how to hide things from Mom just as well as Dad did. She then watched him pass the bag off to Rusty, who threw away the incriminating evidence without a word. Rusty seemed rather experienced when it came to hiding things from her too, now that she thought about it.
What was she thinking? She had just ruined any chance of them ever having a normal Christmas, not to mention she had just nailed the final nail into her father's coffin. She glanced back towards their mother, finding that she was still talking on the phone. She held back her sigh and shook her head. There was no way that Mom was that oblivious. She never had been before at least. Not when Emily and Ricky were kids. She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing as a thought occurred to her. If she hadn't noticed their obvious hand off, what else didn't her mother notice around here?
As she walked through her dad's apartment and headed towards her room, she pondered Rusty's words earlier. He was right. They were both adults. So, if she wanted to keep seeing and talking with her dad, then she could. Legally, her mother had no say in the matter anymore. She could see whoever the hell she wanted to now. If that was her father, then her mother would just have to deal with that. Like she and Ricky were now doing with Rusty.
Her mind replayed the various arguments she had witnessed between her parents over the years, twisting their words in just the right ways. She recalled her mother's promise or rather threat. One she wasn't supposed to have heard, of course. She could still hear his angry rant about how Sharon would never keep him from his kids. That he'd fight her legally if he had to and get her charged with neglect and a slew of other charges just to make sure that he was never separated from his children. Everyone knew that the charges would never stick, though. But threat after threat had been made between them until she threw him out on Christmas Eve and told him not to come back until he was sober. That had been the year she had received the ballerina jewelry box from him. She had listened and watched the ballerina turn for hours on end, wishing with every bit of magic within in her that her daddy would come home. And eventually, he had. And he was sober. Had been for years . . . until now.
She knew what he'd say if she confronted him. He'd deny it. Lie and say it was someone else's bottles. She had heard that before when her mother would have confronted him after sending the kids to bed. So, she knew that would do no good.
Like Rusty wisely said, her dad would blame anyone but himself. He always had. He'd say it was because of the divorce, that he couldn't handle it, stress, his job. Anything but himself. Like a true addict. He needed someone to get him to wake up.
She dug into her pocket, her fingers brushing against her cellphone briefly. For just a second, she considered calling Lieutenant Flynn. But she had heard all about the tension that was rising there between the two men from Rusty earlier. She had no intention of bailing her father out of jail tonight.
"Merry Christmas," her father suddenly said, appearing at her side.
She screamed instantly before letting out a shaky breath. She caught her father's quick look of regret mixed with sadness.
"God, Dad, you scared me," she said, gasping slightly for air. Her eyes then noticed the small rectangular box in his hand. "What's this?"
"A present," he answered doing his best to act like everything was all right. "I was going to wait to give it to you tomorrow, but..."
She smiled faintly before she grabbed it. He hadn't given anything to her since she had been seven with the jewelry box. Carefully, she tore apart the wrapping paper, revealing a black velvet box. She lifted the lid a moment later and smiled genuinely. He had given her a bracelet.
"It's beautiful, Dad. Thank you." She gently plucked it out of the box and attempted to put it on. He grabbed it from her immediately and helped, closing the clasp on it a moment later.
"I couldn't think of anything other than the ballet slippers to put on there for charms," he admitted softly.
"It's perfect." Her fingers brushed over the ballet slippers tenderly. "Thank you."
He just jerked his head slightly. "Merry Christmas, Emily."
She smiled at him before noticing the other small, unwrapped gifts on the table. "What are those?"
He followed her gaze before he sighed heavily. "I bought them before...the divorce happened." He shrugged.
"May I?" He nodded silently. Emily looked closer at each of three, taking off the tops of the boxes and peeking inside. For Ricky, there was a pocket watch. For Rusty, surprisingly, there was a sterling silver elegant pen. And for Mom, he had given her another angel for her collection.
And just like that, she knew there was no way she would ever tell her mother. It wasn't the fact that he had bought her jewelry, though. No. Not in the slightest. She wouldn't tell because it'd only lead to heartbreak on both their sides.
"They're beautiful, Dad." She turned towards him, smiling softly. "If you want, I can drop them off tomorrow." She caught his instant hesitation and watched him take a step back from her.
"Uh, no, no, sweetheart. It's . . ." He gave a quiet shaky laugh and shook his head. "They don't want anything from me. Not after what happened."
"Dad—"
He took a quick step forward and kissed the top of her head. "Goodnight, Emily." Without another word, he turned away and headed towards his room.
She closed her eyes instantly. Just once she wanted him to not run when things started to get messy. Just once. She then sighed and glanced at the gifts. Like always, it fell to her to keep their family together. The dedicated ballerina, quick on her feet literally and metaphorically. She stood up a bit taller, her jaw set. She'd leave them under the tree tomorrow. Regardless of all of their thoughts, they were still a family. And family helped one another hope again. She just had to remind them of that somehow.