Page 43 of Unholy Night
Lyla
Iglance at the clock and can’t even find the energy to frown. I’m exhausted on so many levels. Our magical night has come to an end. Lucifer swept into our lives and out… in less than a minute. I watch as the clock ticks and it turns over to two minutes past midnight. A minute past the moment I first heard two legendary creatures arguing in my living room. More magic.
I thought things were bad then.
And now… I don’t know if I feel better or worse. Somehow better… but also lonelier.
I look at where Mandy is curled on the couch, her arm wrapped over the largest, quitepossibly ugliest dog I’ve ever seen. Thanks to some demonic magic, the tiniest Hellhound now looks like the largest, derpyest, pug in the world. His snores are the loudest sound in the apartment. Possibly the loudest sounds in the entire apartment building. It was stupid to agree so readily, but how could I say no, after all the bonds my child made with Satan, his demons and his Hellhounds?
So here I stand in a velvet leotard, the glow of Christmas lights from the tree filling the room, and an emptiness in my heart I hadn’t known could be so vast.
That’s when I see the snow globe sitting on my coffee table. It wasn’t there before. I inch closer, taking it from the table to study it, my emotions catching in my throat when I see what’s inside. The intricate detail is incredible. It’s a moment caught in time. An exact replica of our kiss under the mistletoe, with Mandy and Gurch in the background. Lucifer looks as lost in me as I do in him. I hold it to my heart and a tear trickles down my cheek. Yes, there is an emptiness in my heart, but I will try to fill it with the memories of our time spent together. Those moments where I felt as if I was the only thing that mattered to him, those moments when his eyes shone brighter when looking at Mandy. Of demons dressed in elf suits. Of Mandy commanding a team of Hellhounds and giggling like a fiend. Of the kiss…
A sob breaks free from my chest and I cover my mouth and sink to the floor, my back against the couch. Tears slip past my eyelashes, sliding down my cheeks.
I shouldn’t be sad. It was an amazing night, full of the impossible. It was one night. Just one night. Or had it been? How long were we truly in Hell or at Santa’s Village? What about the time spent in the sleigh? It feels so much longer than one night. And yet my clock says it was only one minute. One minute in which my entire life changed. How did the King of Hell steal my heart in under a minute? How will Mandy feel in the morning when she realizes we’ll never see him again? A man she gave her trust to after all of the hurt and pain her father dealt her. A man who showed us magic is real? A man who lives in a fairytale castle while helping souls work off their sins. A man--an angel--the devil, who has one of the most important jobs ever.
Of course he had to get back to hell. Of course we mortals can’t go with him. Of course we can’t keep him. Of course I can’t have him.
I cradle the snow globe closer to my chest and press my hand harder against my mouth to muffle my crying. I will not wake my daughter with my selfishness on such a special night.
I sit here for what feels like hours, staring at the tree through my tears. The presents have multiplied, wrapped haphazardly in acid green and blood red. It seems the demons made an appearance at our tiny apartment. For some odd reason, the image of demons scurrying around my apartment snaps me back to my senses and I fight a giggle.
I’m tired, so tired. I crawl onto the couch, snuggling between the cushions and Mandy. Rudolph lifts his head to look at me, before running his slobbery tongue across my cheek and settling back into place. I wrap an arm around my daughter and bury my face against her shoulder. No matter what I face when I wake up, I have my daughter, and I can survive anything as long as I have her.
I wake to the sound of a giggle and the whine of a puppy.
“Shhh! Mommy is still sleeping!”
A loud thump, scramble, and squeal has me jerking into a sitting position and looking around the room wildly.
“Now you’ve done it,” Mandy warns. She’s glaring at the dog, but I know what that whine means. I scramble to my feet and run toward the door, almost tripping on a couch pillow and discarded throw blanket.
“Shoes!” I scramble for the ones I kicked off last night. “He needs to go out!”
“You were asleep! I told him he had to wait.” Mandy stands up and pulls on snow boots. “I can’t go outside alone!” She is running toward the door when I realize I’m still in what basically amounts to a velvet cat-suit, a la Naughty Christmas style.
“Wait! Go get a grocery bag!” I fumble around with the coat rack looking for something long enough to cover my butt.
“Grocery bag?” Mandy pauses.
“You have to clean up after Rudolph.” I slide my feet into boots and zip up the parka I pull on.
“Ewwww.” Mandy’s face twists into horror. “Mommy, does Rudolph make normal poops?”
“I guess we’re gonna find out.” She returns from the kitchen stuffing a plastic bag into her pocket. I look down at the dog. His tongue is hanging out the side of his mouth and his eyes look to be on the verge of panic. At least he waited this long, and didn’t just do his business on my carpet. “Hold on Rudolph, we’re going.”
We manage to make the trip outside and to the park next door without any issues. No one is out to notice Mandy’s emo elf outfit or the incredibly unnatural dog leading our way. In fact, it’s oddly quiet. That’s when it hits me. It’s Christmas morning.
Once back in the apartment, Mandy barely slows to kick off her boots before scrambling to the tree.
“Mommy! Can we open presents? Can we?” Rudolph sits next to her, stubby tail steadily thumping against the carpet. They are already attached at the hip. “There are ones with your name and Rudolph's name too!”
Rudolph yip-growls in agreement and I shush him. The last thing I want to deal with is complaints from neighbors.
“Yes!” I sit down next to Mandy as she excitedly starts sorting gifts. To my surprise there are a few for me as well. Even Rudolph has a pile of his own. “Well, go for it!” I encourage her.
She starts with my gifts, oohing and awwing over the new jeans and sweater I’d managed to buy during a holiday special. She’s growing so fast. She really needs more than just the one pair, but this is what I can afford. The rest of the gifts are smaller. A sketch pad, some new coloring pencils, a stuffed bear with dopey eyes similar to Rudolph’s. She loves everything she opens, careful to make sure I know how much she appreciates each new treasure. I try to not cry at her show of gratitude. It hurts this is all I’m able to do for her. Mandy deserves everything this world has to offer.