Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas

      "Have a holly, jolly Christmas. It's the best time of the year! I don't know if there'll be snow, but have a cup of cheer!" 

     Moments like these are why I got remarried again in the first place. Dancing across our tiled kitchen floor to Christmas music in our comfy red and green pajamas while baking  cookies in the shape of Santa to hand out to all of the neighborhood kids. 

      I've always wanted children, I've always wanted to be a father. I realize that will never happen now, which is no one's fault really. My wife is physically unable to give birth to a child, but I knew that when I married her. I love her still, she's loyal, and sweet, and beautiful, the list of why she's amazing could continue to go on, and on, and on.

      I could have had children, if I would have stayed with my ex-wife. But I didn't want to stay with her. She was a cheater, and a liar, and just in general we weren't happy together. We were forced to marry quite young, so I can't say I blame her completely for being immature. I'm sure I had my moments too. But after twenty years or so I learned how to grow up. 

     She filed for a divorce after three years together. She treated me like nothing more than a bag of trash and said I was the one who was being an asshole. Whatever, I let her go, a little sad, because we were married, but I was still so young, I had my whole future ahead of me. 

     I married her when I was about twenty-two years old, we got divorced around twenty-four and twenty-five years old. After that, I decided to go to college for the eight years I needed to so I could become a doctor. I was born into a lot of money, but honestly, none of it mattered to me. I wanted to make my own way, and make a life for myself. And I knew, I always knew, I wanted to help others however I could. 

     And that's actually how I met my current wife, Fiona. 

     She came in for a checkup one day, but we ended up finding out some pretty terrible news. She had stage two Leukaemia. 

     She sat in my office and cried. She was bawling her eyes out. She looked so young, while in fact, she's actually four years older than me. Tears were falling down her cheeks as she gasped for breath, she came in alone, I asked if she wanted me to call someone, she said she had no one. I got up from my chair, and just held her, I know it was unprofessional, but she needed it, and I feel like I kind of did too. 

      No one ever wants to be the bearer of bad news. It was my first time ever having to break that type of bad news to anyone. I remembered to keep my voice soft, but to also be straightforward.

      I told her she'd be okay, and as soon as I said it she looked up at me with her gorgeous grey eyes and made me promise it. I really didn't want to do that, I didn't want to end up breaking such a big promise. But I felt my mouth moving before I could stop myself, I told her yes, I promise. 

     From there I tried every treatment I could. Chemo, radiation, medicine, eventually, something worked. One day we found out that she was pretty much cured of the killer disease that is cancer. She was so happy, and so was I. 

     The whole time I was struggling to find a cure, and she was struggling to stay alive only one person visited her, and that was supposedly just her neighbor coming to say her goodbyes before she moved away to another state. I was the only one there for her.

      She was in treatment for about six months, she had nowhere to go after she was finally cured. I don't know why I did what I did next, and some part of me knew it was kind of inappropriate, but I asked her if she'd like to come and stay with me. 

     She said yes, at first it was just until she started to feel better, and could get herself back together, but then, slowly, we started to fall in love. And I started to get accustomed to her being there. We ended up dating, and almost within a blink of an eye we were married.

      She started growing her hair back that she lost due to Chemo, her eyes looked less scared and shy, she started to gain back all the weight she lost, and her sweet smile came back. It seemed like it was a smile meant only for me, a thank you, and a promise to always be there for me, just like I was for her. 

     Anyway, we've been married for about eight years, and I can honestly say these have been the best eight years of my life. Although our family will remain small, the love we have for each other seems to fill the house. We have each other, that's all we need. 

     And now we are three days away from Christmas, about to spend our eighth one together. We sort of have a tradition for Christmas.  Three days before we go out shopping for each other during the day, and then when we come together for the night we bake cookies. Enough for us and all the kids in the neighborhood. On Christmas eve we go and hand them out, the smiles on the kids little faces are completely worth staying up all night to actually bake the cookies. On the actual day of Christmas we wake up late, eat pancakes together, and we open our gifts up. Then we pretty much spend the rest of the day cuddling around our fireplace and watching Christmas movies. 

     Right now, as I said before we are dancing in the kitchen, listening to classic Christmas songs, and baking cookies. As a nine year old this might seem perfectly normal, as a forty-one year old it may seem a little odd. But what can I say? I'm just enjoying life, it honestly feels as if nothing could go wrong. And then there was a knock on the door. 

     Fiona giggled and turned off the music, "You can get that." She said as she kissed me on my cheek with a smirk. Of course she'a going to make me get the door, the man, in the pajamas. I sigh jokingly and go to get the door. I open it to a surprise. 

A girl who looks no more than sixteen years old, standing on my doorstep. 

     "H-hi." She stutters with these wide, dark blue eyes, they almost look similar to mine. I smile softly, maybe she's new around the neighborhood? "Hello, how can I help you?" I ask nicely. "I was just wondering, is this the um, the Richard's residence?" The way she talks reminds me of myself as well, she has this cute little stutter and I notice she raises her eyebrows a lot as she talks, just like me.

      "Yes it is, who's asking?" I ask again very nicely. "Y-your daughter, I believe, sir." Wait what?

      "I think you have the wrong address sweetie, there's another family with the name Richards down the road, I can give you the address if you'd like?" I was trying to be as calm as possible, and I knew there was no way that standing in front of me was my daughter, but my heart skipped a beat when she called herself my daughter. 

     "You're David, right? I've been told we look very alike, and I see it, now that I'm standing in front of you." She knew my name, how? Was there another David down the road as well? It's a very common name. 

     "Uhm, h-how about you come in? It's very cold out. A-nd we need to figure out what house you're looking for, because there's no way that I'm your father." It was very cold outside, and when I had a heart attack I didn't want it to be out in the snow.

      "C-come on in." I said holding the door a little wider. She stepped inside and instantly started looking around. I instantly noticed her long light brown hair, her pale skin, and her height. She seemed to be taller than the average girl. She seemed to be about 5'6. She had my hair color, skin color, and eye color, but there is no way she is my daughter.

      "I uh never got your name by the way." I said hoping to find out more about this strange, young girl. "My name is Holly, and your name is David, right?" She asked with a hopeful glint in her beautiful blue eyes. "Yes, my name is David, but I don't see how I can be your father."

      I was stuttering through the sentence, trying to come up with any and every possible solution. I started running a hand through my hair, which is something I do when I'm stressed. "My mother's name is Rosalina Whitmore, ring any bells?"

      I stood there looking at her completely shocked. Rosalina. My ex-wife. The one who was so awful to me, the one that filed for a divorce after continuing to lie to me, this had to be a lie now, some sort of cruel joke. 

     "You're lying." That's the only thing I could think to say, this couldn't be true. "No, I'm not. Look at me, I look just like you." There was no denying that. Hell, I noticed our similar features as soon as I saw her, but that could just be a coincidence. Couldn't it? 

      "My mother used to talk non-stop about you. She said my father's name is David Richards, she gave me your current address, it's this house, and your name is David Richards, it's you, it has to be. She wanted me to meet you." 

     Rosalina never told me shit. I never heard anything about a daughter, I never even heard that she was pregnant. She never told me anything. "How old are you?" I asked, wanting to try and make sense of this, also wanting to set up a timeline in my mind. 

     "I'm sixteen years old." Sixteen years ago. That would make sense. Rosalina and I were married sixteen years ago, the last time we had had sex was also sixteen years ago, but she was also having it with God knows how many men. 

     "Do you have any proof that you're my daughter?" I realize this question kind of makes me sound like a dick, but I have been living sixteen years of my life believing I would never have any kids. "I have my birth certificate, my mom's name is on it. That proves I'm not lying about her. I'm willing to take a DNA test if you need me to." Did I want her to take a DNA test? Did I want to believe that she was indeed my daughter?

     Of course I did. But this all seemed so crazy, and I also never thought it would be possible. 

     Just then Fiona walked through the kitchen door, clearly wondering why I was taking so long. "Hey honey, who was at the door?" She asked slowly, and carefully, obviously very confused. Her eyes roamed over Holly and then she looked at me, and then back to Holly. "Hi, who are you?"

     My wife asked again. I was praying to God that Holly didn't say what I thought she was about to. "My name is Holly, I'm David's daughter." God dammit, she said it. 

     My wife looked back at me, the shock was pretty evident on her face. Then, out of no where, she started laughing. She stood there laughing like I had just told the best joke. But this was no joke, at least I hoped it wasn't, though I was still suspicious.

      I walked over to Fiona and put my arms on her shoulders to get her to stop laughing. "Hey, calm down, are you okay?" I asked her, not knowing if I even was okay myself. She took deep breaths trying to calm herself down. "Am I okay? Yes, but I'm not sure about you. I mean a daughter? Come on, David."

      I looked back at Holly, she clearly looked nervous, but when she caught me staring at her her whole face seemed to light up. "I know this seems impossible, right? But she just knocked on the door, claiming to be my daughter." My wife looked between me and Holly. "And you just decided to believe her?"

      She walked up to Holly. "Are you sure you have the right house?" Holly looked down, and I decided to add the other piece of information that I learned. 

     "She said Rosalina is her mother." My wife seemed to stop in her spot completely. "Rosalina, as in your ex-wife? You never told me she was pregnant with your child." All of a sudden Holly decided to speak up, "I didn't mean to cause any trouble here. I just wanted to know the truth." But was any of this the truth? She looked like me, and so far acted like me, and she knew Rosalina, this couldn't just be a coincidence.

      I decided to speak up then."Holly, you aren't causing us any trouble." Truth be told, she wasn't. "This is just a very confusing moment for us. When I went to answer the door I never expected this."

      And I didn't, but some part of me started to get really happy at the thought of having a daughter. "And Fiona, to answer your question, I never knew she was pregnant either." Fiona started shaking her head.

      "Another lie then?" I got close up to Fiona and kissed her on the forehead. "Please don't be mad. This is unexpected, but if this girl really is my daughter I can't just turn her away." 

     I would like to think Fiona would understand. "Holly, that's your name, right?" Asked my wife to which Holly nodded. "Do you have any proof that you're David's daughter?" Holly shook her head. "No ma'am, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove this."

      Holly seemed really passionate about this, which almost seemed like enough proof that she was my daughter, almost. Because why would someone who was lying be so willing to do whatever they needed to do to show that they were telling the truth. Fiona looked back at me, determination in her eyes, "There's only one thing we can do then." She said. "What?" I asked back, cautiously. 

     "We need to call Rosalina."