An Autumn Dream by Melissa Giorgio Page A

you, our apartment was too small for a big tree. Where did you guys put yours?”
    “In the front sitting room, in front of the window,” I said, easily picturing it. “You could see it from outside and it was sooooo pretty. Mom always insisted on a live tree, and it made the entire house smell like pine. We still get a live tree, but we don’t decorate it with nearly as many ornaments as she used to use.” I realized, too late, that I was probably making Rafe feel bad with my stories. I walked around the table and sat down next to him on the couch. “Sorry, I’m rambling. You probably don’t want to hear about this.”
    “What are you talking about?” Rafe’s brow furrowed. “Gabi, I want to know all about you. All your childhood memories, everything. They’re really precious to you, aren’t they?”
    I thought about that, and realized he was right. I had went from waking up in a bad mood, cursing my mom for making me feel that way, to smiling and laughing over fond memories. It sucked that she had left, and it would always suck, but at least there were good things mixed in with the bad. Like the garden. And now Christmas. “I can’t believe we’ve been ignoring all this stuff since she left,” I said, indicating the overflowing boxes of decorations. “We just packed it up and shoved it in the attic, like it didn’t exist. But she did exist. She still does, somewhere, and it sucks that it’s not here, with us, but we can’t just pretend she was never part of this family. She left her mark and I…” Rafe put an arm around me and pulled me close. “I don’t want to forget her, Rafe.”
    “You won’t,” he murmured quietly in my ear. “You’ll never forget her. You can’t. She’s right here, and always will be.” He pointed to my chest.
    “She’s in my boobs?” I asked wickedly.
    “Your heart! ” he said, blushing again.
    “You were definitely pointing to my boobs.”
    “STOP SAYING BOOBS!”
    “Why are we talking about boobs?” Dad asked, appearing like magic in the doorway. Rafe jumped about two feet in the air before sliding across the couch to leave enough space to fit five people between us.
    “We weren’t,” Rafe said, his face the reddest I’d ever seen.
    I probably should have been concerned that my dad had just walked in on us discussing boobs, but I couldn’t stop laughing at the pained, embarrassed expression on Rafe’s face.
    “You are so evil,” he hissed under his breath.
    “I know.” I wiped tears from my eyes and tried to control myself. “Hi, Dad! Did you bring pizza?” I trailed off when I saw how pale he suddenly looked. Jumping to my feet, I rushed over. “What’s wrong?”
    “Where did you…” He loosened his tie with one hand while gesturing toward the boxes with the other. “What’s all this stuff doing down here?”
    It was only at that moment I realized what an idiot I had been, for bringing everything down without asking his permission. Maybe he would have said no. Not maybe, Gabi, definitely! Crap. What had I done?
    “Dad, I’m sorry, I was just thinking about Mom today, and then I remembered the stuff upstairs and…” I blinked rapidly, my eyes filling with tears again. But they weren’t tears of laughter this time. “I started going through the boxes and I couldn’t understand why we don’t decorate like we used to.”
    “Because,” Dad said, each word clipped, “it’s too painful. I don’t want to see any of it ever again. Put it back upstairs. Now.” He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, leaving me staring at him with my mouth hanging open.
    “Gabi?” Rafe approached me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
    “I told you I was a bitch,” I said, brushing his hands aside and rushing out of the room so he wouldn’t see me cry.
    ***
    One foot out the door and I completely regretted leaving without my jacket, but I forced myself to keep moving, down the porch steps, across the pathway, and to