A Solstice Gift

For weeks, Sera had paid little mind to the red and gold decor lining the streets of her city. Until it was at her door. 

The green paint of her apartment walls had peeled more and more every day. Withered by age– it was the oldest complex around. Inhabited by those like her, who did not wish for much company. So, it was a surprise when she beheld the pine-wreath that hung from her front door, left bare for her to decorate. Sera merely snorted before she threw it out. 

The encounter was enough to remind her, though, of the holiday that arrived. For tonight would be the longest night of the year. 

She planned not to remember it. To make her way to the nearest tavern, as she did most nights, and forget the world. 

There was not much worth remembering. 

Sera had made it a few steps out of her apartment–on her way to the tavern- when she noticed him approaching. 

“I thought you’d have left already. Seems I just caught you,” her brother said, his ginger hair similar to the sky as the sun lowered. 

Sera clenched her fingers. “Seems so.” 

“Going to the same place as last night?” He asked, voice taut.

“Yes.” 

He blew out a harsh breath. “Come with me. Come dine with me and Claire.” 

Sera huffed a laugh as she shook her head. “No.” 

She stepped past him. In a second, he was in front of her once more. 

“I said no, Adrian.” 

He placed his hand on her wrist, delicate and desperate. “Please. Please. I’m worried sick about you, just come to dinner.” 

Sera tore her arm from his grasp. 

“I would rather do anything else than play family with you and your little wife.” 

Adrian flinched, he stared at her incredulously. “You’re my sister. I love you. That is not a game to me.” She shook her head as he continued. “Are you hiding here because of Orion? Is this because of–” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Claire sees someone sometimes, to talk to when she feels overwhelmed. If you saw someone like that… maybe it could help you too. To process things.” 

Rage crashed through Sera. What she’d been through… How her heart had shattered and vanished as her love was lowered into the snowy earth… She shuttered. “Get away from me.” 

He stood firm and she pushed against his chest. “Get away from me!” 

He didn’t move and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “Just consider it. You don’t have to sing or dance. Just eat with us. Anytime tonight just pop in and please… just eat with us.” 

She neither nodded nor shook her head as she passed him, tucked a stray strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear, and made for the city streets. 

+

Sera was a block from her nightly entertainment when the faint rhapsody of music flitted through the air. Her head turned of its own accord, to the melody that flowed through the night. 

Violin. Gentle and powerful. Benevolent and merciless. 

Forget. Forget. Forget. 

Yet she couldn’t, not as the sound poured into her, it did not allow her to. 

Need struck her, harder than any physical blow. Desire– the first she’d felt in weeks. To hear it closer, louder. To feel the symphony with her entire being. 

To be a cusp of wind along a breeze of glorious music.

Sera turned completely toward the song. Farther and farther into the cold– until her teeth chattered– but she did not care as she gazed upon a woman about her age, with a violin beneath her chin. 

The woman smiled at Sera before her eyes fluttered shut, and she proceeded to play. Sera’s arms erupted with goosebumps in the wake of the melody. 

She felt it with a gasp. How she’d felt in the sitting room of her old home– her and her beloved's home– where Orion would play for her. The joy of letting her hair loose and dancing around him. The energy surge of splaying her hands out and feeling. Feeling. The good, the bad, the unending fiery love that would never be put out, not even by death. 

Sera looked to the sea of stars above her, the constellations, and to the one that shone brighter than all the rest. The hunter glittered, looking upon her. 

Tears rolled down her face in a heavy, silent stream. She knew what she had to do. Where she had to go. 

+

Claire answered on the third knock. Her brown eyes went wide. 

“Sera.” Not a question. 

Adrian was at the door a second later, his face matched his wife's. 

“I’m– I’m a bit hungry… so I figured–” 

She yelped as Adrian yanked her inside by both arms. 

“We were just about to dig in. You’re right on time,” Adrian said, pulling her to the dining room as though he was afraid she might run out. 

His wife laughed. “We were about to dig in thirty minutes ago, but he insisted we wait a bit longer. For you.” 

Sera twisted her fingers in a knot. “Thank you.” 

For a moment, Sera marveled at Claire’s beauty, her chocolate skin and her face’s natural glow.

They sat quietly around the ivory-oak dining table, adorned with a festive silver tablecloth and gold placemats. Upon fine-glass serving platters was steak, green-beans, mashed-potatoes, cranberry sauce, and buttered-bread rolls. 

“Happy Winter Solstice,” Adrian said. He dug into his mashed-potatoes and grimaced at Claire. “The potatoes are cold.” 

Claire rolled her eyes. “Yes, you oaf. That’s what happens when you wait thirty minutes to eat.” 

The table broke into laughter. Laughter, then silence as hot tears streamed down Sera’s face. 

“I’m s-so sorry. For hurting you,” Sera said to her brother. “I was just hurting– I’m still hurting.” 

Adrian nodded knowingly. Claire reached across the table and squeezed her hand. 

“I’m here for you. We will always be here for you. If you let us,” Adrian told her. 

Sera wiped at her tears. “There was a woman on the street playing the violin. It reminded me of how Orion played it– how beautiful he played. And I felt… I felt him.” 

“He was a good man,” Claire said. 

Sera grinned. “He was a better husband.” 

Sera had helped Adrian and Claire burn the Yule log after dinner. She’d written her hopes for the new year, the longer days ahead, and pasted it onto the log beside her family’s. They had stayed up into the early hours of the night bantering and reflected on previous solstices. They filled the home with laughter. Sera had not laughed so hard in months. 

She sat before the hearth with her brother, when the log was little more than ash, and Claire had retired to bed. Sera basked in his presence… in the company.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed someone. How much I was destroying myself,” Sera admitted. 

Adrian nudged her with an elbow. “Grief destroys everyone. You rebuild yourself in the process. You accept and you forgive. But that takes time and It’s not easy to do alone.”

Sera leaned her head on her brother's shoulder as he continued. “So, I’ll help you. Whenever you find your grief is just too heavy, let me help you in whatever way I can. And please leave that should-be-condemned apartment and stay here until you’re back on your feet.”

Sera gave him a playful slap. “It doesn’t need to be condemned!” 

Adrian only lifted his brows in response. Her head fell back, and she roiled with laughter.

“Okay, it’s one problem away from collapsing,” she said. 

“Is that a yes? You’re going to stay here?” 

She smiled. “Fine. A few weeks and then I’m moving into a new, more-stable, apartment.” 

He placed a hand over his heart and feigned heartbreak. “You mean… your leaving?” 

Sera rolled her eyes and stood from the floor. “Drama queen.” Adrian stuck out his tongue.  “I should probably get going.” 

She pulled him into a tight embrace and followed him to the door. 

Sera turned around just as her brother was shutting the door. “Tell Claire that I need to know what skincare products she uses. As soon as possible.” 

“I’ll tell her when she won’t throw me out for interrupting her R.E.M cycle.” 

With that, Sera began the walk back to her probably-should-be-condemned apartment. 

+

Sera looked up once more– to her hunter always watching over her. The symphony of the woman-violinist was long gone with the impending morning, but Orion’s would never fade. The joy, the memories, and the music… for as long as she lived, she would cherish what he gave her. She would never forget how fiercely he had loved her. She would never let that love burn out.

She’d give thanks to the sun and moon and hold dear Winter Solstice for all the years of her life, for what it had given her. 

A gift. The rhapsody, the stars, the world, breath, life, and love. All of it– a gift.