A Bewitching Christmas

“Christmas is important to Greg and his children, so it’s important to us,” Mother had said when they prepared for this event in the fancy kitchen of the house they’ve shared with Greg and his clan since the wedding two months prior—but the second the mashed cauliflower lands in Nadia’s hair is the second her fuse cinders.

Her fork bends in her hand as she turns her head to the right. Trace, Nadia’s sister on paper, is talking to her grandmother with a sparkling smile, like she didn’t just commit the act of a toddler. Nadia drops the deformed utensil on her plate. It clangs and everyone seated at the dinner table looks at her. 

“Nadia, what are you doing?” Mother hisses.

“Oh, just enjoying this delicious meal. You were right, Christmas is such a bonding experience. So glad we’re all gathered here.”

Mother pinches her lips together—something she always does when she wants to scold, but has to hold back to not make a scene in public. And that’s the thing, isn’t it? They’re still in public. This isn’t home—this is a sham. Just because she married Greg, doesn’t mean that everyone is magically glued together as a family. That much has been clear tonight. Sure, before dinner everyone went along with the Mage tradition of lighting scented candles before drinking herbal tea, which was nice. But the way Greg’s mother snickered afterwards—as if their tradition is a gimmick—was not.

Nadia takes a tissue and tries to get some cauliflower out of her hair. There she goes again, flashing her temper, messing with the mood. She glances at Greg’s mother, the old Raisin. Her mind clouds and she hears the crone say something about kids these days.

Nadia stands up, mumbling about eating too much and needing some air.

Outside, December washes her flushed cheeks.

Everything is hushed in winter, and the fresh snow smells like magic; anticipation and nostalgia. Nadia crouches down and takes some into her bare hands, letting her warm skin shape it into an orb. She brings it to her lips and breathes life into it—sparks fly and with an inner light the Snowball floats up. This is what you’re supposed to do on winter holidays. It’s what they always do, but now Mother insists on making good impressions—on being ‘normal.’

“That’s pretty.”

Nadia hums in response to Greg’s voice, keeping her eyes on the little Snowstar she made.

“Want to show me how to do that?”

Nadia spares him a look, “Sure.”

She scoops some snow into his hands and instructs him to make a snowball.

Greg looks at her when he's finished, waiting for the next step.

“Now, all you need...is a little magic.” Nadia leans down and blows on the snowball in his hands. Like before, it lights up and begins to rise. They stay there in silence. Smiling, Greg gazes at the luminous snowball as it joins Nadia’s. 

Nadia makes more Snowstars and Greg watches them fly. The Snowstars dance in a game of tag.

“We always do this on winter holidays,” Nadia says. “Well, used to, at least.”

“Really? I didn’t hear about that.”

“Mom doesn’t want to weird you out. And Mages don’t celebrate Christmas, so she probably didn’t want to impose on your traditions.” She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

Greg wilts. Nadia frowns and looks away, collecting more snow, “Sorry, for making a scene earlier. It’s just...your daughter isn’t very nice, is she?”

“She’s shy.”

Nadia snorts. Yeah, so shy of her to throw food in someone’s hair.

“Really!” Greg laughs, “It’s easier for her to reach out with teasing. She’s just trying to connect.”

“Is she?”

The door opens and closes. Nadia looks over her shoulder and sees Mika come out, hunching his shoulders in a shiver. Greg’s oldest child. Twenty-seven, Nadia recalls. They met for the first time tonight; he had some obligation on the wedding. He was on the other side of the world, and some complications made him unable to fly home. 

“What are you guys doing out here in the cold? Dessert is about to be—” he stops, seeing the floating snowballs.

At his son’s pause, Greg’s eager to speak up, “Isn’t it neat? Nadia made those. The fella’ over there is mine,” he points.

Mika’s eyes shine as he gapes, “This magic thing is really, well, for the lack of better term, magical…” He grins at his own un-funniness, and Nadia punishes the corny display by wafting some snow on his shirt.

Mages aren’t very common anymore, so most of the time people are surprised when they see magic in action. Whether that surprise veers towards amazement or horror depends on the person. Nadia has seen it all. Her heart warms that the two appreciate the beauty of it, just like her.

After a few more minutes, Mother and Trace come out as well. Trace is in a thick coat.

Trace gasps, staring up at the magical light show, “What are those?” 

“Snowstars,” Mother says. “It’s a Holiday tradition. When snow is abundant, the Mage community uses these to celebrate.”

“Man, I wish I could do that,” Trace says, gaze fluttering between the orbs forming the man-made galaxy in their garden. Like she’s drawing constellations.

“I could help you,” Nadia says. “We could do it together.”

Trace smiles, and she does look a bit shy as she shuffles closer, chin tucked in. They gather snow together.

Nadia lets Trace form it into a ball and then blows some magic into it.

Trace jumps in one place as it flies up, gasping about how cool it is.

When they’re inside again, they embark on dessert. Greg tells the old Raisin about the Snowstars, but she makes a point of scoffing at “such frivolity.”

Meh, you can’t win them all. Nadia shovels in a huge spoon of chocolate pie to divert from saying something spicy again. She catches Trace staring. 

“What?” she barks through bulging cheeks.

“Do you like it?” she whispers, leaning closer.

Nadia blanks, “Like what?”

“Dessert. I baked it,” she cringes.

Oh. Nadia looks at what’s left of her slice. “That’s nice. It’s—I love chocolate.”

“Super,” Trace beams and a tension Nadia hadn’t noticed at first leaves the girl's shoulders, as she leans back into her seat. A second later she swats some chocolate on Nadia’s cheek, and Nadia resigns herself to the fact that she will simply have to learn to love the quirks this girl employs to hide her embarrassment.

When everyone has finished, they take out a board game to play—a tradition for Greg’s gang. And Nadia doesn’t mind being here anymore. She’s shown them something close to her heart and they accepted it with open minds. Sure, the Raisin needs some work, but they’ll get there.

Maybe they can be a real family.

They’re at least heading in the right direction, Nadia thinks, as she looks at all their smiling faces. Maybe it doesn’t have to be so hard to connect.