Chapter One
The eleven year old sighed as he hung the ornament from the green tree. This was the first Christmas since his mother had been gone. Abe hated Christmas now. He suspected his father would drown himself in whiskey on Christmas. Henry tried not to drink in front of Abraham, but it was his way of coping. In the seven months since she had died, Abe and his father had grown apart. Abe knew his father loved him, but he also knew that his father was in pain. This was the second time he'd have buried a wife. Henry had realized shortly after her funeral that love was a dying dream he was to tired of chasing. Love wasn't for him.
"Abraham, why don't you take a break? Dinner is ready." Henry entered the room with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Abraham nodded and set down the glass ball that he was holding. He felt sick to his stomach even thinking about continuing the tree decorating anyway. That was something he did with his mother and father every year. His mother isn't here. He didn't want the tree.
Henry was a good cook but it wasn't the same as his mother's. Abe looked up at his father who did not have a plate in front of him, but instead, paperwork. Abe understood that being a doctor was time consuming but Henry needed a break from work. It was Christmas. Abe eyed the glass of milk in front of him. He looked to his father's face quickly. Henry's eyes studied the paper. Abe's hand moved swiftly and hit the glass, spilling milk all over the doctor's overdue paperwork.
"Abraham!" Henry picked the glass up and shook his paper to try to clear most of the milk off. "Sorry. I didn't mean too. " Abe lied. Hopefully his father would realize that work was not important right now.
"I know you didn't. It's okay Abe." Henry cleaned the milk up and set the paper aside. Abe smirked as Henry sat down with a plate.
Abe had long since gone to bed and Henry sat at the kitchen table at three in the morning. Memories of Abigail raced through his head. World War II. He was stationed in Poland. A blonde woman holding a baby that was later his wife and son. Henry tried to leave her before she got hurt, but she was the only reason he needed to stay. He remembered the words he said before he proposed to her.
I think till' death do we part isn't long enough. Abigail, I will love you until the end of time, and for me, that's a long time. You are my wings when I'm too afraid to fly. I love you. Marry me?
The words she said when they found out she was sick.
When I go, Henry, do not remember the end of my life. Remember the good parts, and do not forsake the idea of moving on. You are very deserving of happiness.
He smiled at her words. He remembered his remark that was something about how she wasn't supposed to be the wise one, he was. Henry sighed and stood up from his chair. He walked into the living room. As he passed the Christmas tree, he smiled at it. There was only one decoration on the tree. A single ornament.
It was a picture of Abigail and Henry. It was their wedding photo.
"Merry Christmas, Abigail.''