Ghosts of Christmas Past
By
Lady MoonHawke
Aurora tore back the tape holding the box closed,
and brushed aside the thin layer of packing material, looking for the inventory.
Once she managed to retrieve and look through it, she frowned. Digging
further through the styrofoam, she started matching items to the list, then
sighed. Everything in the box matched what was entered on the list.
Unfortunately, she had ordered none of it. Wreaths, lights, ornaments,
garland, and enough boughs to make a decent-sized artificial tree; all the
trimmings for a holiday Aurora had no intention of celebrating.
Hastily, she stuffed everything back into the box, picked
up the shipping invoice, and headed for her father’s office.
“In,” he called at her knock. She complied, then
stopped in front of the desk and saluted before handing him the list.
“Have a seat,” he said, looking it over. “So it’s
that time of year again,” he said when he’d finished. “This the stuff
that just came in?”
“Yes, sir. But-”
“You can go ahead and put it up, then. It’s not
exactly regulations, but anything to keep the troops happy, right?”
He smiled at her.
“I didn’t order this stuff, Commander. And it’s
not listed on the regular shipments, either. So what is it doing here?”
she asked.
“I had it ordered. I wanted to do something that
would make you happy. Don’t you like Christmas anymore? You loved
it when you were a baby.”
Aurora’s face hardened. “I was two. I toddled,
babbled and ripped things up. And some of my Christmases after that
weren’t as happy.”
“Aurora, I’ve told you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.
I can’t change it now.” Her father sighed. “Do you want to talk
about it?”
She shook her head. “Not right now. Not with
you. It just doesn’t seem right.” She stood slowly. “Permission
to be excused? I have a shift in five minutes.”
He waved her off. “Go. If you don’t want to
deal with the decorations, I’ll have someone do it later.”
Aurora was already heading toward the door. “Thanks,”
she said as she left.
Her shift at Ops had been quiet, strange for
a station with as many people as they had in such a confined space.
Quicksilver had been in once or twice for information, and he’d smiled and
nodded at her each time, but said nothing. For one irrational moment,
she’d thought that the Commander had sent out the word to give her some space.
And maybe he had, she reflected as she finished up her
shift summary and prepared to hand over to Skyedansuer. The Commander
may have acted like he was made of granite, but Aurora was coming to recognize
the soft spot her father had for her, though she tried to avoid it.
It wasn’t fair to him when he’d already pulled strings to get her into his
chain of command.
“Hey! You going to sit here all night?” A
voice startled her out of her reverie.
Aurora found herself staring into Krysten’s cerulean eyes.
“What? No. Just...thinking,” she replied,
still a bit hazy. She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Space
cadet, you know. Lost amidst the stars.”
Krys laughed. “Yeah. I’ve been there.”
She slid into the seat as Aurora vacated it, logging in by habit without
looking. “Hey, are you coming down to the rec later? Mike and
I are throwing a ‘Deck the Hall’ party. Chips, dips, and all the plastic
pine swag you can stand.”
Aurora’s nose wrinkled. “That wouldn’t be much.
I’m not crazy about faux deco.”
Krys smiled. “I lived in the desert. The only
pine trees we had came from a box. But come down anyway. It’ll
be fun.”
One corner of Aurora’s mouth turned up, a testament to
Skye’s habitually sunny demeanor. “I’ll see what I can do,” she temporized.
“Come on,” Krys wheedled. “Promise me you’ll at
least stick your head in.”
Now the other corner turned up. “I’ll do my best,”
she stressed. “But I’m not going to make a promise I don’t know if
I can keep.”
“Great!” An incoming message demanded Krys’s attention,
and Aurora slipped out without another word.
Aurora could hear the party music from the hall.
She’d cycled through decompression earlier and pulled on her black warm-up
suit, fully intending to at least put in an appearance at Krysten’s decorating
party. But now, steps from the door, her courage failed her, and she
leaned against the wall, listening to drifts of music and snatches of conversation,
deliberately keeping herself outside the warm circle of friendship just a
few steps away. Laughter spilled out the open doorway, and for Aurora,
it was the proverbial last straw. She ran without thinking, bolting
past the open door in her haste to get away.
Two pairs of blue eyes caught the flash of black outside
the door. A moment of silent communication passed between cerulean
and ice-blue, then Jonathan nodded once, heading out the door to follow Aurora.
Everything was still at the end of the launch
tunnel. Aurora leaned against the wall, watching the stars drift past,
continuing in their silent dance. There was no cheerful music here,
no happy voices chattering. Here she could be alone with her thoughts.
Her reverie was once again interrupted, this time by footsteps
in the hanger. Judging from the tread, firm but not heavy, with no
echo of metal striking metal, it was Jonathan. She sighed softly.
It was always Jonathan, trying to push the limits, dragging her out of her
shell, refusing to let her wallow in her unhappiness. And now he was
going to try it again.
“What's the matter? Don't want to join the party?”
Aurora folded her arms, giving Jon a sidewise glance.
“What clued you in?” she asked, the words edged with sarcasm. “Couldn't
be that I decided to do a disappearing act worthy of Houdini, could it?”
Jonathan chuckled, leaning against the wall and mimicking
her posture. “I don't blame you, really. I'm not much for all this
Christmas rigmarole, either.”
Interested despite herself, Aurora turned toward him.
“Why aren't you?”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “I spent most of
my holidays either at school, or with my father.” His chuckle was bitter
this time, and he opened his eyes, fixing her with an intense gaze. “And
the holidays I spent with my father made the ones at school almost preferable.”
He sighed. “My father was not exactly a model for parental nurturing.”
“So I gather.” Aurora tilted her head, wondering
if it was against some sort of moral code to be glad that someone else had
as lousy a childhood as she had. “What was he like?”
Jonathan smirked. “Military, like most of the Greyers
down through the ages. Apparently he knew what I was suited for even before
I did.” He shook his head. “And me, being the only son, there was really
no question about it. My sister got off easier.”
“I didn't know you had siblings,” Aurora murmured.
Jonathan's expression softened. “Well, we didn't
exactly sit down over dinner and tell each other our life stories, now did
we?” He saw her eyes darken, and frowned. “I'm sorry. I didn't
mean it the way it sounded.”
“Yes, you did,” Aurora fired back, turning away. “Listen,
I appreciate the honesty, but...I came here to think.” She hugged her
elbows, determined not to let him see the tears that were starting to squeeze
past her lashes. “And I can't do that with you standing here,” she finished,
her words sharper than she intended.
Jonathan stepped up behind her, laying his hands lightly
on her shoulders. “Neither of us can do anything to change the unhappiness
in our past, Aurora.” He gathered her hair in an inky fall down her
back, smoothing it gently, though he stopped when she twitched her shoulders
in annoyance. “Krys's really done a nice job. The old roost almost looks--”
“--like home?” Aurora turned around, still hugging
her elbows. “I'm sure it's lovely. Maybe I'll join you later.”
His icy eyes warmed a little. “You will? When?”
“I said maybe, so don't get any big ideas.” She
nodded toward the lift. “Why don't you go on? I'll catch up with you
later.”
Jonathan quirked his mouth. “I take it that's my cue,”
he said, turning away to leave her with an echo of his smile.
For a moment, she thought she’d gotten rid of him.
Then the footsteps echoed back.
“You know what? No, I’m not leaving. You’re
not going to stand out here on the edge of nothing and mope by yourself.
If you want to feel bad, that’s fine. But you’re not going to do it
alone.” He leaned against the wall next to her, arms crossed, mimicking
her cold demeanor.
She stared at Jonathan, willing him to leave. When
it was clear that he wouldn’t take the hint, she sighed plosively.
“Do you really want to know the sad details of my miserable
life?” she asked, her bland words belied by the invective in her tone.
“Can it be any worse than a part-time father whose only
interest was in how I could improve his career?” he asked facetiously.
Aurora slid down the wall til she was sitting on the floor,
knees drawn close to chest. “I guess you’ll have to be the judge.”
She draped her across her knees as he settled beside her.
“Where to begin?” she speculated. “It’s hard to get a handle on when
things first went south, really. I feel like I’ve been angry all my
life, feeling unwanted and abandoned sometimes.” she sighed again,
softly this time. “Anyway, you don’t want the whole twenty-two plus
year novel. It was two and a half years ago, I guess, that things went
really wrong.”
“What happened?” Jon asked.
“My sister died,” she replied quickly, forcing the words
out.
He waited for her to go on. “How?” he asked finally.
“Bad brakes, dark road, drunk driver,” she answered at
last.
“Did they get him?”
“Her. Yes. For all the good it did.
Prison sentence doesn’t bring her back. Anyway, my mother became very
distant after that. I suppose I did, too, considering I took an eight-week
vacation in Colorado. But Christmas two years ago was where things
came to a head, I guess....”
“So what are we going to do for Christmas?” Steven
asked, piling the last of the Thanksgiving turkey on slices of bread.
He finished dressing the sandwiches and handed one to Aurora.
She bit into it eagerly and made appreciative noises.
“I can’t believe you’re thinking of it already,” she commented after
swallowing. “One humongous meal is all I can contemplate at a time.”
“You’ll have to do it without me,” Carolyn said as she
accepted her plate. “Thank you, Steven.”
Aurora set her food down. “Why?”
Carolyn ate calmly. “Because,” she answered finally,
“there is a merger coming up just before the end of the year, and I have
to go to London early to make sure everything is set up correctly.
Then after the new year, I need to be in Paris for a conference. And
since I’m going to be in Europe anyway, I plan to take some vacation time.”
“For how long?” Aurora asked, pushing her half-eaten sandwich
away.
“I should be back around mid-February,” she replied.
“So you are going to miss Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and
my 21st birthday all in one trip?” Aurora clarified. The few
bites she had taken were already turning to lead in her stomach.
“It’s business, Aurora. I can’t rearrange the plans
of 50 people to be here for Christmas, or 1500 to change the conference.
And frankly, I don’t have the heart to face the holidays here without your
sister.”
Aurora blinked, then stood up. “Excuse me.”
She didn’t bother to wait for a response before storming out of the room
and up the stairs.
Steven sighed as her door slammed. ‘Thank you, Carolyn.
That certainly made my lunch happy and cheerful.” His tone was biting.
“I thought she was just about over it, but since it’s clear that Amy’s absence
is the foremost thing on your mind, it’s going to weight heavy on her, too.
You’ve just reinforced her inferiority complex.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Carolyn replied
coldly.
“It was hard enough for Aurora to compete when Amyrya
was alive, being the smarter, prettier and more popular one. Competing
with a ghost is a lost cause from the beginning.”
“I never favored either of them. I was equally strict
with both my girls. And it’s no easy thing to lose your daughter, Steven.
Let me assure you of that. And this business can’t be put off.”
Steven shook his head. “No one should be without
their family on Christmas.”
“Aurora will be fine. She’d rather be with you,
anyway.”
“I wasn’t thinking about her. You’re deliberately
isolating yourself, too.”
Now Carolyn shook her head. “I’m not ready for full-scale
holidays yet. Feel free to do whatever you and Aurora please.
But I’m going to be gone until sometime after Valentine’s Day.”
Steven dragged Aurora’s plate over, picking it up with
his own. “Suit yourself.” He took the plates and disappeared
into the kitchen.
“So what did you do that year?” Jonathan asked when she
finished.
“Went to Colorado with Steven. It was great, don’t
get me wrong, but I really wanted to spend it at home with my mother.
But she didn’t want to be with me, I guess.”
“I’m sure there must have been more to it than that.
Your mother seemed like a charming woman when I met her.”
“Oh, she can do charming,” Aurora assured him. “It’s
one of her best skills.”
“What happened next?”
“Next? Ummm....Steven died in June. I picked up
and moved to Colorado for a while, then went on to the Academy that August.
It was that Christmas that I got back at her, in a way.”
“Why does that sound chilling?”
“It is a bit chilling, I suppose,” she admitted.
“Are you going to tell me?”
Aurora sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
My Academy class had two weeks leave at Christmas. Some conference
scheduled or another....”
“So are you going home, Aurora?”
Aurora looked up at her roommate’s voice. Jenna
had poked her head in the door, and Aurora paused in her packing.
“Not really. I’m driving out to the coast for leave.
Want to join me?”
“I can’t.” She made a face. “I have to be
here for this conference thing. You going to lay out on the beach,
go swimming and all that good stuff?”
Aurora laughed. “It’s much too cold to swim in winter.
I’ll probably shop instead.” She zipped her bag and hoisted it from
the bed. “Looks like I’m ready.”
A knock at the apartment door drew their attention.
“I’ll get it on the way out,” Aurora said, slinging the bag over her shoulder.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you,” Jenna replied.
The smile on Aurora’s face froze as she opened the door.
“Hello, Mother.”
Aurora slammed the trunk of her small sedan with perhaps
a little more force than necessary. “So why did you bother coming?”
she asked.
“It’s Christmas, Aurora. I wanted to see you.
It’s very quiet at home without you.”
“I’m sure it is. Now, if you don’t mind, I have
to get on the road. The highways aren’t going to get any better if
I wait.” Aurora moved around to her door.
“Wait, Aurora. I cleared my calendar and came all
the way down here from Montana. I wanted to spend the holidays with
you.”
Aurora studied her mother over the top of the car.
“I’m sorry. I have to go to Malibu to meet with a realtor. I’m
renting out the house after the New Year.” She opened the door.
“Have a good time.” She got in and pulled the door closed. Then,
before Carolyn could say anything else, she was pulling away from the building,
dust from the street billowing across the sidewalk, partially obscuring a
young woman walking nearby.
Carolyn could only stand and stare.
“That’s pretty harsh,” Jonathan said at last.
“Yeah. Now you can see why I was so surprised to
see her when she came up. They don’t exactly run tourist trips for
civilians up here.” Slowly she pushed herself up from the floor.
“Was that surprised? It looked more like pissed
off to me.”
She had to chuckle. “Okay. I was a little
mad. I hadn’t seen her since that Christmas. I even skipped the
graduation ceremony because she could have shown up. I took a station
duty instead, just before I came here. So when she appeared with no
warning, it was a real shocker.”
“Shocked, I’ll buy.” Jonathan pushed himself up
as well. “So are we going to a party?”
“All right. You win. I will attend the party.
I will sing, badly. I will even put up some kind of holiday decor.”
She looked at her chronometer. “In ten minutes, okay? I need
ten minutes to do something, then I swear I will meet you there.”
He regarded her with mock sternness. “Ten minutes.
Or I’ll have to track you down and bring you back myself.”
“I promise. Ten minutes.” She gave him a fond
smile, then trotted away.
He watched her for a moment, then headed back toward Krys’s
party.
Aurora pressed a few keys, then tried to fix her hair
in the moments left to her. “Record video-link message now,” the computer
instructed in Krys’s voice.
The red light came on, and Aurora smiled.
“Hey, Mom.” She gave a little wave. “I just wanted
to drop you a line and say hi. These visual recorders are a new toy
we’re trying out. If they work, we should be able to keep in better
contact. Uhm, it’s almost Christmas. I guess I just wanted to
say I miss you. I’m keeping busy, trying to stay out of trouble.
It’s been pretty quiet, which is nice.” She stared into the camera,
trying to decide how to finish. “Anyway, I should go. Merry Christmas,
Mom. Love you.” She hit the stop button, then before she could
think twice, sent it through the stations network connection. “Yeah,”
she whispered as the connection completed. “Merry Christmas.”
She made it to the rec room with 30 seconds to spare.
“I was getting ready to come after you,” Jonathan remarked
as she came in.
She turned in a circle, showing off the black leggings
and red sweater she’d changed into. “It was worth the wait though,
right?”
“It certainly was.” He looked at the small case
in her hands. “What’s that you’ve got?”
Aurora hid it behind her back. “You’ll see in good
time.” She would have gone on, but a pair of hands covered her eyes
from behind.
“Guess who?”
She reached back, tracking on the sound, and felt a cheek
and wiry facial hair. “Will,” she said calmly, ”I don’t know who suggested
this, but it is probably my least favorite game.”
The hands disappeared and Aurora turned around.
Will’s crestfallen face made her regret her cool words. “So what are
we doing?” she asked cheerfully.
Will brightened. “Watching Krys try to chase down
the Cowboy with mistletoe. He’s not running very fast.”
Aurora laughed lightly. “We might as well see if
she needs a hand.” She looked over to Quicksilver. “Coming, Jonathan?”
His smile was indulgent. “In a bit,” he promised.
As Aurora moved over to the knot of other Silverhawks, Jon sat down near
the Commander.
“So how did you pull it off, Lieutenant?” the Commander
asked gruffly.
“I asked. She blew me off. I refused to be
blown off, and she got some stuff off her chest. So I asked again,
and she gave in. She needed ten minutes to do something, so I threatened
to chase her down if she didn’t show up. I don’t like to push her,
though,” he reflected.
Her father harumphed. “Whatever works. You
going to go over there and get your turn?” he asked as Aurora exchanged kisses
with Will, Michael and the ‘Kidd under a sprig of plastic mistletoe.
Jonathan smiled, but shook his head. “No.
I have higher aspirations than polite peck at a social function.”
Stargazer stood up. “Well, suit yourself, Lieutenant.
But I remember exchanging polite pecks with a certain Carolyn Buchanan at
a Christmas party. Made me wonder what a less ‘polite’ peck could bring
me.” He joined his troops and exchanged kisses with the women.
Aurora finally broke away from the exchanges of affection
to look around. “So what else needs to be done?”
Krys pulled herself from Will’s enthusiastic hug.
“We were just about to turn on the lights and start admiring.”
“Great. Let me put something on the stereo and we
can sit down and gape.” She fiddled a moment with the sound system,
then collected the remote. Turning on the tree lights and turning off
the room lights, she shooed everyone to sofas.
“Okay,” she began once they were finally settled.
“This is something I remember doing at home for a lot of years. I don’t
know when we started, but we didn’t for the past two years. Anyway,
I found the CD earlier and wanted to revive the practice.” She curled
up next to her father, then pointed the remote and activated the stereo.
A series of arpeggios poured out of the speakers, followed by a jewel-bright
voice.
“Ave Maria
Gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena
Maria, gratia plena.”
Aurora let her head rest on her father’s shoulder.
“Did we do this when I was little?”
He nodded. “Yes. I even called a radio station
to play it when your mom was in the hospital after Amy was born. I
managed to get in a little tree in a pot and a ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ ornament.
It was probably the most pathetic tree I’d ever seen. Your mother said
it couldn’t have been better. A classy lady, your mom.” His voice
was soft with memory.
“I know. And I’ve been too hard on her. I
hope I get the chance to make it up to her.” She forced herself not
to twitch as her father’s hand brushed her hair. She’d been too hard
on him in the past as well.
“Don’t wait for the chance,” he directed her. “Make
the time for it. Don’t let me down on this.”
“I won’t, Daddy,” she promised. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Aurora.”
The old Latin hymn swirled around, wrapping them in its
sacred peace.
*THE END*
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