Again, I am not making any money off of this so please don't feel the need to sue.
Epilogue:
I hand Booth his refilled glass of wine as I return to the living room. We are spending the night at his place - not something that we do very often, but we have decided to do so tonight because it's Christmas Eve and for a change, Parker is spending the night with his father. This will be the first Christmas that Booth gets to wake up with his son and share that special moment with him. I have a hard time putting words to the feelings that are invoked within me at his allowing me to take part in this precious moment.
We had just put the last of the wrapped presents from "Santa" under the tree and I have to admit that I'm feeling a little over-whelmed by the classic sight: a beautifully lit tree - nearly perfect in its shape and size - with a wealth of gifts tumbling out from beneath its branches. How could something as simple as a tree yield so much power? When had it become such a powerful symbol in our culture?
I knew when it had become something powerful in my life. Booth knew as well, but seemed determined to change the meaning of this holiday for me. I didn't believe it possible, but didn't have the heart to deny him his fun; especially not when Parker was to be a part of our day. I would make an effort for both of them. Still, it had certainly taken my breath away when I had returned from the kitchen to see that tree - its lights and the soft glow of the fireplace warming the small room in a way that heat never would.
"Booth, I don't understand the importance of the tree at Christmas. I mean, if you really think about it, the decorating and worshipping of a tree is more related to pagan rituals than Christianity. And it has absolutely nothing to do with the birth of Christ if you believe in that kind of thing. Which I know you do."
"Bones, come here," he pats an empty space next to him on the sofa and I reluctantly lay next to him. He shifts until I am laying with his arms around me, my back against his chest, my head rests on his bicep and we are both facing the tree.
"Can't you just enjoy something without analyzing it?" he continues once we're both situated comfortably. "I didn't make up the traditions, but I like them and I follow them and I want my son to grow up with them as a part of his life, too. I mean, is there really anything better than waking up Christmas morning to a beautifully decorated tree and a pile of presents?"
"Oh, don't get me started on the commercialism of Christmas. There's this great expectation and the whole Santa thing with kids making lists and they only get their gifts if they're good. So, if you're poor you just automatically have bad kids?"
"No - Santa brings the same amount of gifts to all the good boys and girls. You know that, Bones."
I'm so caught up in the debate that I don't notice the warning tone in his voice. "Santa! That's commercialization at its best. So poor people get poorer trying to tell their good kids that they're good. Those good kids probably wouldn't want half of those presents under the tree if they knew that their parents had to buy them… if they weren't told this crazy tale about elves and reindeer and…"
A hand clamps over my mouth muffling the remainder of my argument. I shift, turning awkwardly so I can see his face, but he still keeps his hand over my mouth. I'm surprised to find traces of anger there when I hadn't even once questioned his religious beliefs during our little debate.
"That's what so great about Christmas though. The parents don't have to buy all those great presents under the tree. Santa brings them instead, right Bones?"
He is talking kind of slowly, like when he is explaining 'the real world' to one of us squints and I don't know why he has suddenly decided to treat me like a five-year-old. Then it hits me. Parker is sleeping in the other room. Probably not too soundly considering his earlier excitement over the visitor he expects tonight. I have almost blown the secret of Christmas for him. I nod my head slightly.
"You're right, Booth. That is one of the greatest things about Christmas. That parents don't have to buy all the things that their kids want and need. That Santa brings it to them instead."
"Now, as I was saying: why don't you just sit back and relax and enjoy this little holiday tradition, even if you don't understand it."
I shift again until I am comfortably wrapped in his warmth. I let my gaze fall on the tree and after a few moments, I can enjoy the simple beauty of its symmetrical branches decorated with light. The stillness of the night stretches, evoking a sense of peace that permeates my mind, my being. The warmth of his arms around me. The gentle rise and fall of his chest concurrent with my own breathing. The soft popping of the wood burning in the fireplace. The glow cast by the tree in the darkness of the room. These are the things that he wanted me to see, to feel, to accept. Silently, I thank him for teaching me the beauty in a moment that is experienced without analysis.
I'm not sure how long we have been here, lying in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet night. Staying awake when we should be sleeping yet not wanting the evening to end. Knowing that morning will come much sooner with an eager six-year-old expecting a morning full of presents.
The image of Parker tearing through his presents brings a small smile to my face and I find that I am nearly as eager as he is for the morning to come. I want to see pure, simple joy as only a child can experience it. I want to see his face light up as each surprise is revealed. I want to see the smile on Booth's face when he throws his tiny little arms around his neck in a fierce hug.
Suddenly and unintentionally, Parker is replaced in my imaginings with a dark-haired girl with bright blue eyes. And after throwing her arms around Booth, she throws her arms around me. My breath catches in my throat before I close my eyes and shake my head, clearing the vision from my mind. Still, the ache that had finally begun to fade resurges in my heart. I battle the emotions churning within me until I finally feel that I have regained some measure of control. Almost defiant, the ache is still there.
December twenty-fourth. I count the days off in my head. Twelve. My due date had been just twelve days from today. The twelve days of Christmas. I never really knew the meaning of that song, but I'm sure this wasn't what they had in mind. The hand that rests on Booth's tightens almost unconsciously. He squeezes it back.
"You know," I begin, breaking the peaceful silence. I hesitate before continuing, not really wanting to give voice to my thoughts. But I know that I have to. He has to know how I feel - he may even be having the same feelings.
"It's twelve days from today. My due date. Based on my calculations, it would be twelve days from today."
His arms tighten in their embrace, but he remains silent. Maybe I had been wrong. Maybe he hadn't realized that my due date was nearing. Maybe he hadn't done the math and now I've just ruined the holiday for him. A new ache awakens in my chest and I long to take back the words I have just spoken. But I can't and I have to say the rest now.
"I just can't help but think about how different this night would be… how different tomorrow would be if…" I pause, still afraid to speak the words aloud. I know nothing good will come from me hiding from my fears, so I continue: "If I hadn't lost our baby."
The lights from the tree dance as my vision blurs. The tears filling my eyes make me angry. I had sworn that I had already cried enough tears - that I wouldn't cry any more.
Booth is quiet behind me and I hate that I can't see his face. He presses a kiss against my temple. There is something about the room and the tree and the quiet and the night and for the first time I want to tell him the truth in my heart. For the first time, I'm ready to admit the truth to myself.
"I really wish that tonight was different. This is beautiful, but I really wish that we could have the night that we should've had." My voice is surprisingly low and even, considering the emotions swirling inside me.
"I do, too, Bones," Booth's answer is barely more than a whisper. "It's hard, you know, trying to be excited for Parker. Not letting him know that I'm thinking about how much better this could be if things were different. Not imagining how much better this Christmas could have been, if only…"
His voice fades and I wait for him to continue, to finish his thought. Then I realize that there isn't anything more for him to say. If only. There are so many 'if only's' in my life - in both of our lives - that they are too numerous to list. That's when I realize another truth - that if we focus on the 'if only's' then we never get to 'remember when'. 'Remember when's' are good but we can't 'remember when' if we're always wondering how much better it would be 'if only'.
The lateness of the hour is starting to affect my mental capacity and I know that we should be getting some sleep while we still can. Still, there is something more that I have to ask him before the night ends.
"Promise me something, Booth?"
His answering "hmm?" tells me that he's listening but is also beginning to feel the need for sleep.
"Promise me that we'll have the Christmas that we were supposed to have this year. Promise me that one day we won't have to talk about 'if only' and instead we will have a day that we can 'remember when'."
His silence leads me to believe that either I've completely confused him or he's fallen asleep. After a few more minutes of silence, I decide that the latter is the answer and begin to rise. His arms tighten, keeping me next to him.
"I promise, Bones," he whispers in my ear. "Maybe not next year and maybe not the year after, but I promise that we will have the Christmas that we should have had this year."
Finis.
A/N: Okay, maybe this post wasn't necessarily timely, but I worked as quickly as I could. I hope it worked even though the season has since passed.
Please send me all your thoughts. Not only are they the only form of payment that I receive for this, but they are the only way I can work to improve.
Keep your eyes open for Booth's companion piece. I hope to begin posting it in the next week or so. Scarlet.