Chapter 12: Christmas Day

The snow fell thickly. But the sun was shining. It glinted so brightly, Wendy almost doubted that Jim was there when she trudged to Pirate's Point. But there he was. Somehow, she knew he would be.

She dropped her Christmas present in the snow.

Jim jumped. "Wen? How'd you know I was h – " His eyes traveled between Wendy and her Christmas gift. "Is… that?"

Wendy smiled. Kneeling, she held up the solar sail. "Happy Christmas."

Jim stared. Snow flecked onto his nose as Wendy smoothed the sail.

"I saw it. It must have washed ashore last night. You said it was the most important part." Anxiously, she searched Jim's face. It was expressionless. "I…I hope that it isn't too rumpled…"

"—it's ruined. Totally ruined."

Wendy's face fell. "Oh." she said, lowering the sail against her chest. She felt so silly for being so proud to have wrestled the enormous sail from the ocean, to her house, and up the cliff. Cheeks red, she mumbled into her boots. "Oh. Well…I—"

Jim stood. He walked to Wendy. And he hugged her with all his might.

"Thank you." he whispered, squeezing her newly chopped hair. "Thank you."

Wendy grinned. Sail squished between them, she hugged Jim back. "But it's ruined."

Jim released. Without any discomfiture at all, he lead Wendy to the edge of the cliff. "No sweat. We'll build another one."

"We will?"

"We will. Here." Jim bent. Turning, he threw something at Wendy wrapped in red ribbon. "For the workshop."

Wendy looked down. Tied in the red ribbon was a pair of jeans. "Oh!" Excited, she unknotted the ribbon and flapped open the jeans. "Oh they're lovely! And…long. Are these yours?"

Jim shook his head. "Not anymore."

Wendy beamed. "Thank you. I love them."

Jim shrugged. Sitting, he motioned for Wendy to join. "Don't get overemotional. They're just jeans."

Wendy smiled. Trying to contain her happiness, he settled beside Jim. "It was still a lovely thought."

"Yeah." Jim stared into the ocean. Together they sighed.

It was an easy silence. A silence balanced by absolute comfort with the person sharing it, and preoccupation with one's own thoughts. It was a silence glossed over by salty wind, angry waves, and swirling snow. It was a silence that Jim and Wendy would share forever, both introspectively and together.

But silence can be dangerous. Mourners and broken hearts should never be left in their own heads. The unhappy mind can be lethal; it is so easy to be consumed by the memories hiding in the dark.

Wendy closed her eyes.

"Jim?" she whispered. "Why were you crying?"

Jim's face was set as stone. But as he spoke, Wendy heard the wounds reopen.

"My dad left." Clouds muscled over the sun as Jim spoke. "He just…left. Walked out the door. Got on his ship. Sailed away. Didn't…didn't even…didn't even look back when I…"

Fist clenched, Jim turned away. "…son of a bitch. On my…birthday. He didn't even look back."

Wendy stared. And as Jim shook, trying to hide tears, she understood. She understood the armor Jim wore to protect himself from the world. She understood why slaving through grit and grease to create something beautiful as the solar surfer was vital as the air he breathed.

And she understood, despite her every instinct to comfort him, Jim needed to be alone. Touching his shoulder, she silently rose.

"I get it." Jim suddenly said. He turned, stopping Wendy as she walked away. "I get it."

Wendy stopped. Sunlight rippled through the clouds, catching the blue of her eyes. "Get what?"

Jim stared directly at her.

"I'm sorry Wen. I'm sorry about your mom."

Wendy's heart bled. Whether from sadness or happiness, she did not know. But, she knew that at long last, someone understood.

Gripping the jeans against her heart, she turned down the cliff path.

"Hey. Wendy Moria Angela Darling."

Again, Wendy turned.

Jim raised a hand. Snowflakes twinkled over his teal-grey eyes. "Happy Christmas."

Wendy smiled. "Happy Christmas, Jim."