12 Days

December 13

The night was as cold as it should be at 7pm on December 13th in the backwoods of upstate New York. The stars were out, sparkling in the velvety night sky. Clea shivered. She hated the cold. Her hands were buried deep in her parka pockets, covered in purple leather gloves, lined with lambswool (100% sustainable, of course). She wore ski pants over military grade ICB boots. She had a green Slytherin hat on, a green and grey Slytherin scarf, and her fur lined parka hoodie over it all.

It’s cold, she thought. I hate the cold.

Clea, and her four best friends, walked along the side of the stone wall, as they have for the last thirteen years on this day.

“I love this wall,” Orion said, running his bare fingertips along it as they walked.

How can he stand to touch it? It’s negative 80 out here! Clea thought. Too cold to even speak aloud.

The wall stood two stories high, stacked stone of greys and black. The top was spiked with wrought iron finials; they always reminded her of arrowheads. Over the top was a bright white glow, as if an entire town lay just beyond its border. Every light in every building was on. Might as well be a town, she thought.

“This walk takes forever,” Pike deadpanned. Clea looked up to see him glaring at his breath frosting in front of him.

Acantha chuckled.

Clea grinned behind her scarf. Same dialog every year. It was comforting.

Finally, they could see the gate. It was a massive wrought iron monstrosity, beautiful in its old world elegance. An icy breeze came at them, tugging at Clea’s hood. She buried her face further into her scarf, shrugging her shoulders so high that it brought the scarf up enough to almost cover her whole face. The air chapped her cheeks and burned her eyes.

“The first chance I get to move somewhere that the air doesn’t hurt my face, I am,” Clea grumbled, her voice muffled.

Pike smirked next to her as he watched the top of the wall. They were just about to the gate. Ten steps.

Clea couldn’t help it. She was excited. The anticipation was bubbling inside her, matching the bounce in Lelo’s step. Lelo stopped just in front of the stone column that held the gate. Massive lanterns perched on top, sending out a beacon of light in the dark night. Everyone pulled up next to her. “Thirteen years,” Lelo breathed. “More than a decade.”

A content sigh passed through the group. No matter what had happened between them over the years, they always gathered together on this day, and for the next twelve days to follow, to continue the traditions they began when they were six.

Lelo reached out and grabbed Pike’s hand. Pike took Acantha’s, who in turn took Clea’s, pulling it from her pocket. With her other hand, Clea reached out to Orion. The five best friends stood like that for a moment.

“Ready?” Lelo asked.

They nodded as one.

All of them closed their eyes and moved themselves so they stood in front of the gate, facing the bright light behind.

“One,” Lelo began and the rest joined in. “Two. Three.” And they opened their eyes to the dazzling Christmas display.

The gate started to open, slowly, as if inviting them into a magic wonderland.

“No such thing as magic,” Acantha said, as if in answer to Clea’s thoughts.

But it was pure magic. There were Santas flying with reindeer across the yard. Snowmen waving. A larger-than-life Yule display that took up an entire quarter acre. There was a village with dozens of houses and shops. All the pine and fir trees were decorated with sparkling lights and ornaments. There were giant blue and white LED bulbs hanging from the other trees. All the light poles were decorated with green garland spiraling up, topped with giant red bows. There were elves in workshops, reindeer feeding, and a train that drove around the property, taking its passengers through all the wonders of the scene.

And in the center of it all was the sprawling Tiriro mansion. Standing four stories at its tallest point, the mansion was lit with ice blue lights around every architectural element, each line and curve. It glowed soothing and festive. Its lights blinked along with the music, which floated to them via various inconspicuously placed speakers throughout the property.

Just to the left of the mansion was a large ten-foot fir tree decorated in purple lights. Clea smiled to see it. Since she was six, there has always been a purple tree, just for her.

Acantha squeezed her hand. Clea nodded and they started walking along the stone path to the front door.

They took their time walking the 2,100 steps (they had counted them when they were ten). For a while, the cold didn’t touch Clea as she lost herself in the magic of the lights. They loved to play the game of who could spot something new. No one ever knew for sure if there was anything new. But even in its familiarity, it felt new each year.

As they walked in companionable silence, they took turns pointing out their favorites. Mr. Tiriro said that tomorrow he would reveal a new addition to the landscape. They each secretly tried to see if they could find it.

They reached the front steps, climbed to the top and turned to admire the lights from this new vantage point. It was breathtaking. Enchanting. Clea could stand there for hours.

Then she shivered. The cold brought her back to the present, freezing her to her toes.

The door behind them swung open and out skidded a young girl, blonde hair flying behind her as she dashed to Orion. He picked her up, wrapping her in as much warmth as he could.

A dog came barreling out with a bark and a skid, sliding into Clea’s legs. Clea laughed as Acantha grabbed her arm to keep her upright.

“Did you miss me that much, Malfoy?” Clea laughed, and scratched the dog behind his ears.

“It’s so amazing,” Merryn exclaimed.

Clea looked to her eight-year-old sister. Her eyes were enlarged, glossy with wonder. Clea recognized that look. Magic. She smiled.

Then she shivered.

“Time to go in before your sister turns into an icicle,” Pike told Merryn, tugging on her hair as he walked back towards the door. Clea nodded at her sister, who giggled.

“I’m not even cold,” she said as Orion turned them toward the door with the warmth wafting out at them.

The front door foyer was open to all four stories, with an enormous crystal chandelier hanging above them. The lights had been changed to ice blue and white bulbs. The thousands of crystal teardrops had been traded out for crystal snowflakes. The door frames to the right and left were decorated with real fir garlands, pinecones, and red velvet ribbons. A dozen feet ahead was the curved grand staircase that was likewise decorated. On the opposite wall were a collection of live fir wreaths. Clea took a deep breath. She loved this spiced smell more than any other. This was the smell of Christmas.

There was nothing but a little coat closet on this side of the house. It wasn’t the usual entrance that the family used. That was through one of the garages. This entrance was for guests. The five of them, and Merryn, scuttled in and immediately started stripping off their winter clothing. Once upon a time, Clea would have hung up her clothes. She’d found that when she did, nothing was where she left it. She had since stopped trying to be helpful to the staff, though she was also mindful and didn’t generally leave a mess behind her.

Merryn stood in front of Orion, tugging on one of his boots in a comical way, laughing hysterically as she struggled to free his foot from it. Clea shook her head. Merryn had had a crush on Orion since she was born. He was one of the very first people she continuously smiled at as an infant.

When she was finally successful in getting the boot free, she fell back onto her butt with an umph. Orion grinned at her and she giggled madly. Any other time she’d land on the floor like that she’d start bawling.

“You oughta be around more often, Ori,” Clea said. “She’s less fragile when you’re here.”

In response, Merryn batted her lashes and looked away. “Am not,” she said, her cheeks flaming.

The group laughed and started on their way to the family room straight ahead, leaving their garments in heaps on the floor.

Malfoy barked happily at them, nudging each of their hands with his cold, wet nose until he came to stride next to Clea.

They stopped in the family room where much of Clea’s family was gathered. Her mother and father were playing with the newest member of the family, her one-year-old brother Aram. Three of four of Clea’s quint-siblings were lounging on the sectional. Merryn had joined their nine-year-old brother, Mateo, at the coffee table, where he was writing a list for Santa.

“Hey, guys,” Clea’s mother greeted them with a smile. “How was it this year?”

“Wonderful, as always,” Lelo said at the same time Acantha said, “Perfect”

“Cold,” Clea mumbled. She still couldn’t feel her fingers or nose.

Dad chuckled. “Well? Did you see the surprise?”

“No,” Lelo pouted and the rest shook their heads.

He laughed merrily. “Good. I want to show it to everyone when Abacus and Annistyn are here.”

“When do they arrive?” Lelo asked.

“Abacus around midnight and Annistyn about three in the morning.”

Clea hid a scowl. She always held out a secret hope that Annistyn wouldn’t come home. But she liked her daddy’s money too much to do that. Even if she didn’t like the family he married and created after her. Clea saw her sister-quint, Atria, mirror her expression without looking away from her book.

They all nodded with varying degrees of convincibility.

Mateo looked up from his project to meet Clea’s eyes. Then he pointed to the shelf above the banquet. There sat the ragged Elf on the Shelf, Lyle, within a line of elaborate snow globes from all over the world. Clea smirked at it. She hated that thing.

It was missing an ear, the pompom from its hat, its nose, and one eye. His head had to be sewn back on as well, which eliminated his neck. When Malfoy was a puppy, Lyle was placed a bit low and he’d gotten a hold of him.

Clea scratched Malfoy fondly behind the ear, silently praising him for his effort.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t beyond repair for their seamstress mother.

“Good as new,” she’d said, and placed him on the kitchen counter.

“Dear, we can just buy a new one,” their dad had said.

“I like this one. We’ve had it since the quints’ first Christmas. It’s a treasure and tradition.”

Regardless of how much they’d argued that they wouldn’t care if it was replaced, or simply disappeared, their mother had been insistent on it. Almost sentimental. Clea suspected that it had some special meaning behind it. Atria thought maybe it was from their grandmother before she’d come down with dementia.

And now it sat, looking like an elf who’d met a yeti on the wrong side of the sleigh tracks, looking down at them all.

“Did you see our gingerbread extravaganza?” Merryn asked, bringing Clea back to the present as she excitedly leaned forward. Her big blue eyes filled with Christmas magic.

Clea grinned. “Not yet.”

“It’s on the breakfast table. There are sooooo many pieces. The baker made me a special cut out kit of a unicorn.”

“And a tank,” Mateo said, looking like it was his biggest present yet.

“And a train for Aram. Matty and me put it together,” Merryn said.

“We’ll check it out,” Acantha promised.

“Oh! Make sure you look at the roofs. They’re so cool,” Merryn said, almost jumping up from where she sat. “Some of the pieces of roof look like books. They’re thick and everything!”

“That’s great,” Lelo said. “How about we wait until tomorrow and you can show us around?”

Merryn grinned, her gaze turning to Orion. And Clea swore, she turned shy and flirty.

“Did you all eat?” Clea’s mother asked.

Everyone nodded.

“Are you sure? Acantha?”

Acantha grinned. “You know me, Ma. I’m always hungry.”

She laughed, handed Aram to her husband, and stood. She gave them each a hug as she’d done since they were six, kissed their cheeks, and sent them on their way with the promise of food and warmth to follow.

“I love your mom,” Orion said.

Clea nodded. The other three smiled in agreement.

“She’s a pretty great mom,” Clea agreed.

Clea and her friends turned back to the stairs and started climbing the four floors. They rounded through the loggia to the left and into the first sitting room. Then into hallway that normally stretched into a sitting room; it had doors to two dens, a study, and the fourth floor of the library. This hallway was likewise decorated for Christmas. They called it the Hall of Santas. Every ten feet was a life-size Santa from somewhere around the world. Jultomten from Sweden, Père Noël from France, Sheng dan lao ren from China, Babbo Natale from Italy, Sinterklaas from Holland, and approximately thirty-eight more at last count.

The den right in the middle was where Clea and her friends gathered every year.

The fire was lit, crackling high in the five-foot wide fireplace. There was a three and a half-foot tree in one corner, decorated in purple lights with black ornaments and a white shag skirt around the bottom. The room was lined with shelves filled with books. Sharing the shelves were now Christmas decorations, mostly nick-nacks they had made for the holiday through the years. Usually, there were comfy chairs and a chaise draped with chenille blankets and end tables with chachkies.

All that had been replaced. There was a TV on wheels across from the fireplace with a DVD player, Blu Ray player, and a VHS player. On the bottom shelf were several stacks of Christmas movies. In a half circle were mattresses stacked high with blankets and pillows. To the side was a low table with the fixings for s’mores. Along the wall, next to the door, was Clea’s very favorite thing of the season: a hot chocolate bar.

Acantha let out a sigh. As above all the holiday hubbub as he liked everyone to believe him to be, he was filled with sentimentality.

Clea made a beeline to the hot chocolate, filling a tall travel mug with the thick, hot goodness. She added a peppermint spoon dipped in chocolate and made her way to sit in front of the fire.

Lelo had already scooped up her night bag and gone to change in the bathroom inconspicuously hidden behind a bookshelf.

Orion dropped onto his back on his bed with a sigh. “There is nothing more comfortable than these beds.”

Clea tended to agree.

“You sure you’re allowed to even be here?” Acantha asked, kicking Orion’s foot on the way by. “There are girls in the house.”

Orion rolled his eyes. “I told her she didn’t have a choice. Tradition.”

“You’ll find yourself single in twelve days,” Pike said with a laugh.

Orion shrugged. Out of the three boys, he certainly would be the one not to care. Girls grew on trees as far as he was concerned.

He’d recently gotten a girlfriend who was pretty clingy and overly jealous. She was pretty and had curves for days. That’s why Orion was with her.

“What about you?” Lelo asked Acantha as she joined them in a footed elf pajama set, hood up and pointed ears sticking out.

Clea laughed at the outfit.

“Hollen is fine with you being here? Co-ed sleepover and all?” Lelo asked.

“Course,” he gave Clea a cheesy grin. “She thinks Clea is the sweetest girl ever.”

Pike scoffed. “Has she ever spoken to her?”

Clea took a sip of cocoa. Did it bother her that they spoke about her as if she wasn’t there? Not in the least.

“Once,” Acantha said. “We were at football and Clea chucked the ball in a perfect spiral for forty-three yards. She interpreted Clea’s sarcastic smirk at my compliment as sweet.”

“That’s not speaking to her,” Pike said with a raised brow.

“She said, ‘nice arm, Clea!’ Clea gave her the same sarcastic smile. Hollen thought it was a sweet smile.” He laughed.

Sweet was not a word that often described Clea.

“Clea is many things. Sweet is not one of them,” Pike confirmed.

Clea moved her eyes in his direction, meeting his dark gaze, before she looked back to Acantha. He continued to talk of Hollen. Periodically, he’d change the subject to football. He was the only one who played football these days. At one point growing up, all three boys had played. Pike had moved on to Soccer and painting. Orion was a red and white belt, seventh degree in aikido. Clea had been taking lessons from him since she was thirteen. She was getting ready to take her orange belt test. Lelo did gymnastics, but NOT cheerleading!

The conversation drifted in and out. Mostly, they enjoyed sitting in each other’s company.

Clea was the last to change, coming out in candy cane striped leggings under a one-piece shorts/tank combo in white with black coal buttons down the middle. Her always-cold-self also had a snowman hoodie and fluffy “boot” slippers. When she’d come out of the bathroom there were three trays filled with different kinds of sandwiches. There were hot grilled cheese, steak and cheese, ham and cheese, and chicken melts. There were also cold egg salads, chicken salads, and subs with various veggies. The third tray held condiments and chips.

“I love your mom,” Orion repeated as he grabbed three of the sandwiches and some chips. “She thinks of everything.”

As they settled in with their food and cocoa, the random chatter died down to focus on reminiscing of past Christmases.

“My favorite,” Acantha said, “was the first year we were here in Tiriro mansion. We were still young enough to believe in magic and this place was just chock full of it. Every room. Every acre. Every day of December,” he trailed off, his eyes seeing those days in the far past.

Pike handed Malfoy a chunk of salami from his Italian. “Mine was the year Clea got Malfoy.”

Clea grinned. That had to have been one of her favorite years, too.

As one, all five sets of eyes moved to the shelf lined with pictures of Christmases past. Six years ago, age thirteen, Clea held a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy. All brown, except one ear and the tip of his tail, his eyes a yellow gold. She was cooing at him in the picture, his neck stretched up from his position of being cradled in her arms as if he were a baby so that he could lick her face. The camera captured his tongue just connecting with her chin. Her four best friends gathered around her.

“It was like we all got a dog that year,” Lelo said.

Clea had gone through bouts of depression since she was quite young. They came out of nowhere. She was never really sure what triggered it. The Christmas she was thirteen was one of those years. When she’d hit one of these bottoms, her friends gathered around, staying with her on an endless basis. Clea knew how very fortunate she was to have friends like hers. It was because of these depressions that they had established the 12 Days of Christmas traditions when she was six. Nothing and no one had come between them, especially this time of year.

It was also because of these bouts of depression that she had gotten Malfoy. Her father thought it would pull her out of it, give her something to focus on. After all, who could be unhappy with a puppy around?

Annistyn hated her a little more that year. She’d been asking for a puppy since she was three. Clea had never asked for one.