Wish I Had A River

The scent of vanilla and cinnamon dance through the air. Jodi rests a plate of freshly made snickerdoodle cookies on the table, turning to the pile of metal rods covered in plastic pine leaves, some more than others. The tree box is still holding together despite the tattered ends, crumpled ears, and slight water damage from nine Christmases in the house. Jodi queues a festive playlist on her speaker and props up the centre spine: a metal pole reaching five feet above the ground. Bells jingle and the merriment begins. Filled with Christmas spirit, she begins transforming the skeleton into a beacon of holiday cheer.

“All I want for Christmaaaasss….” Jodi sings at the top of her lungs, finally letting loose after a tense year of family drama and university trauma. Using a piece of silver tinsel as a scarf, she spreads joy and plastic everywhere as she parades through the living room.

“Jodi!” Clair yells over the music, sliding the glass door open and flailing her arm frantically for attention. Jodi turns around and finishes the lyric, pointing to her flatmate and holding a shorter branch like a microphone.

“Is youuu, baby!”

Despite Jodi’s infectious smile, Clair rushes over and fumbles with the speaker, searching for any button that will cease the music. The song cuts off mid-verse.

“Seriously, Jodi,” Clair snaps. “I’m trying to work, and I can’t concentrate when you’re being so loud.”

“Sorry, Clair. I didn’t know you were home,” Jodi replies, fixing her hair and catching her breath from her performance to the couch cushions and boxed ornaments. “I thought it might be nice to put up the tree and—”

“Yeah, well, maybe you could think of other people and not be so loud and obnoxious.” Storming off, Clair slams the glass sliding door behind her, making Jodi flinch.

Silence fills the room like a balloon, pressing up against the cracking wall paint and the wonky coffee table. It pushes against the windows that were long overdue for a clean and the wine-stained couch that looked as deflated as Jodi felt.

Turning back to the tree, she realises that in her cloud of Christmas joy, now properly dampened, the bottom layer of the tree was still needing to be unpacked. She switches around the wrong branches and finishes setting up the tree without so much as a cheerful hum.

Jodi steps back and eats a Christmas cookie, careful not to spill any crumbs on the floorboards. Opening a shoebox filled with ornaments, an old friend greets her. Resting amongst the golden baubles is her Christmas angel, a gift from her mother before she moved from interstate. She takes it out of the box, finding that one of its wings had broken.

Fishing out the rest of the broken wing, Jodi runs her thumb over the side. She finds a roll of tape and attempts to mend the wing, hiding the seam as best she can. Looking at the little ornament in her hands, she watches as the mini halo glint in the downlights.

Much like the angel, Jodi was broken too. Not physically, by something deeper. She had suffered many heartbreaks, most of which she kept to herself. Over the ten months since her mother’s passing, she had picked herself up and soldiered through the year, held together with emotional tape and hope that things would get better one day. But behind her frail smile, she was still hurting.

Hanging the angel on the tree, Jodi takes a step back. She can’t help but mumble the song her mother used to sing to her as a child.

“Oh, I wish I had a river… I could skate away on.”