"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."- Psalm 34:18

December 19, 1995

"Hi, yes I'm calling about the Wilson order..." Six days until Christmas and plans for the very first joint Wilson-Chasez Christmas party were underway. Back at Thanksgiving Char's and JC's parents, Lennie and Diannah, and Roy and Karen had decided to celebrate Christmas together. Ever since the two families made the move to Orlando for their kids to be on the "All-New Mickey Mouse Club", they had all grown tremendously close. Diannah and Karen had become fast friends, having girlfriend get togethers, going on trips, and just being a shoulder for the other to lean on. Lennie and Roy had become equally close spending their free time golfing, grilling, and guzzling back beers while watching football. JC's two younger siblings, Heather, and Tyler had become like siblings to Char, two relationships that she held near and dear to her heart. As an only child, she craved the closeness of a sibling relationship. Heather had become her best friend, and they went to each other for everything. She loved Tyler like a little brother, and loved that he sometimes confided in her, things that he wasn't yet ready to share with JC and Heather.

When their families decided to host a party on Christmas Eve, Char, JC, Heather, and Tyler all decided to take it upon themselves to head a different task in preparation for the party. Char had designated herself as the head of catering, Heather with her superb organizational skills oversaw invitations and RSVPs. Tyler, the baby of the bunch, desperate to prove himself and his capabilities decided to take up the task of decorating. He'd spent his free time taping episodes of Martha Stewart Living, and subscribed to the magazine. JC with his superior musicianship skills oversaw music and entertainment.

"Yes, the twenty-fourth... Correct." Posted against the kitchen wall, where the phone was installed, Char cradled the receiver between her left ear and shoulder, while holding a legal pad in her left hand, and taking notes with her right. "Okay, you all can come through the back and set up in the kitchen... Yes, four p.m."

Heather, from her place seated at the island watched as Char rapidly scribbled onto the notepad.

"Yes, I need to put down the deposit." Purse please, Char mouthed to Heather, pointing to the chair at the kitchen table where her purse had been hanging off. Heather quickly shuffled to the table and passed Char her purse. Char quickly rummaged through her purse to find her wallet. Retrieving her credit card from her wallet, she read off the number and CVC on the card to the catering receptionist. "Perfect. Thank you so much, have a great day, goodbye!" Char placed the phone on the hook and turned to Heather, who was back at her seat at the island, and smiled. "Catering is taken care of. One more thing to cross off the list."

Heather, who was also in charge of the "to-do" list, checked off catering on her own legal pad. "Excellent," she smiled. "Everything's running perfectly on schedule. In fact, we're ahead of schedule," she observed. "The Bakers and the Findleys RSVP'd today."

"They were the last two we were waiting on, right?" Char asked, joining Heather at the island.

"Nope, I'm still waiting to hear from the Lamberts and the Fosters," Heather replied. "And it's still fifty-fifty for the Matthews and Hunters. The Matthew's daughter went into early labor, and Blake Hunter's dad had an emergency surgery, so he and Shareen had to fly to Minnesota to be with his family. They're not sure they'll make it back in time."

"Well, as per Emily Post's etiquette tips for party hosting, I've ordered more food than expected guests, so having enough food should not be a problem," Char replied.

"I know I tease you, but it looks like your Emily Post books have actually come in handy!" Heather quipped.

"See, I told ya! There's still a place for Emily Post in a ninety's world. Proper etiquette never goes out of style!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So, what are you getting Char for Christmas?" Joey asked JC. He, JC, and Chris were roaming the Mall at Millenia doing some last-minute Christmas shopping.

"She told me not to get her a gift this year," JC replied, as they weaved their way through crowds of eager and anxious Christmas shoppers.

"Yeah right," Joey laughed. "What are you really getting her?"

"Nothing. Literally," JC responded. "In fact, she insisted that I get her nothing."

"Dude, you know chicks just say that to set you up," Chris said. "Watch what happens when you show up to her doorstep empty-handed on Christmas morning."

"Yeah, your ass is so gonna get handed to you," Joey warned, as they ducked into Sam Goody.

"Dude seriously, better think quick," Chris agreed, while rummaging through a bin of discount cassette tapes.

"No seriously, we had this discussion two months ago. She's still not over what happened last year," JC explained.

"Oooohhh," Chris and Joey sighed in unison.

"That's right," Chris said in a startling realization. "It's already coming up on a year."

"Yeah, on Christmas Eve," JC replied. "And she's still pretty traumatized by it all."

"Understandable, I mean who wouldn't be," Joey said sympathetically. "I mean, I can't even imagine..."

"She hasn't said anything, but I think she might be blaming herself," JC said, sighing deeply.

"Ugh, that's rough," Chris said. "But I mean she's gotta know it's not her fault."

"I mean logically she has to know that, but grief doesn't really adhere to reason." JC surmised.

"So, what are you gonna do?" Joey asked.

"Well, she said that she didn't want this year to be about the material. She didn't want gifts, but she wanted to make new memories and start new traditions," JC answered.

"So that means that you'll have to make this year extra special for her," Chris said.

"I know," JC replied. "I'm determined to make this Christmas one that Char will never forget."

December 20, 1995

Five days until Christmas, and Char had spent all morning grocery shopping and preparing for Christmas breakfast and dinner. This was the first year that they would not be eating at either of her grandparents' houses, so Char took it upon herself to recreate some of her grandmothers' favorite recipes: Breakfast sausage casserole, homemade cinnamon rolls with her Nana Della's special icing, glazed biscuit doughnuts, Cornish hens, honey glazed ham, fried cabbage with bacon, baked macaroni and cheese, scalloped potatoes, collard greens, honey butter biscuits, and Grandma Gladys' sweet potato pie. On Christmas day, they were going to have a day full of down home, comforting, southern soul food. It would be quite the undertaking, but it would all be worth it to have a little piece of home with them in Orlando.

Placing all the grocery bags on top of the kitchen table, Char made a mental note to call her grandmothers later that evening to make sure that she had all the recipes written down correctly. As Char began to pack the groceries into the refrigerator, Diannah descended the back stairs into the kitchen.

"Honey where were you all morning?" Diannah questioned her daughter.

"Publix," Char replied. "I got everything we need for Christmas day!" She smiled proudly.

Diannah observed all the groceries on the table. "You didn't buy all of this yourself, did you?"

"Of course, I did," Char replied, momentarily stopping to come face to face with her mother.

"Honey, how much money did you spend?" Diannah asked incredulously.

"Mom, it's not about the money. I just want this Christmas to be a good one."

"You're not actually planning on cooking all of this, are you?"

"Yes. I'm cooking all of it. Breakfast and dinner," Char said defiantly.

Diannah sighed. "Honey, I don't want this falling all on your shoulders. You're only sixteen! At least let me help you."

"Mom, no. I've got it all under control," Char insisted. "I've talked to Nana Della and Grandma Gladys and they're more than willing to help me with the recipes."

"No, I'm not going to allow you to slave away in the kitchen," Diannah declared. She walked through the swinging door that led to the living room and came back with her purse in hand. "How much did you spend?" She asked Char, pulling out her checkbook.

"Mom, you're not paying me back," Char insisted.

Diannah huffed in frustration. "Well, I'm not letting you do all of this by yourself."

"Mom, you're not lifting a finger this year," Char persisted.

"Charise-Lynette, are you serious? I'm fine!" Diannah protested.

"Fine?" Char repeated.

"Listen, I know that you're worried about me, but I'm getting back to myself. Sure, I'm not exactly one-hundred percent, but emotional healing takes time," Diannah said assuredly. "Charise, I appreciate you caring about me. I could not have asked for a more loving, caring, selfless, and more protective daughter. But you are the child, and I'm the mother, not the other way around. You have done more in the past year to help take care of me than I could ever ask, but I don't want you to carry this burden all on your shoulders."

A moment of silence between them. Char took in what her mother had said. A tear escaped her eye, and softly fell down her cheek. It's not fair, she thought. None of this is fair. Why did this have to happen to us? "But Mom, that's what families do. We're there for each other in our darkest moments," she finally said.

"Exactly; family, each other. This doesn't all fall on you. You're still a child. Your father and I don't expect you to sacrifice your social life: time with JC, ball games, times with your friends, parties, just to take care of us. Please believe that we will be okay. We can't just stop living life because of what happened. Life goes on, and we must move forward no matter how hard it is to accept. That means you too honey. You've got to start taking care of yourself. Your feelings are just as valid and important. This happened to you just as much as it happened to your father and I."

"I just... wish I could make everything alright again. I wish I could take away all yours and Daddy's pain and hurt. I just want to make everything okay," Char whispered, swallowing back tears.

"I know baby, but you can't, and you're not supposed to. This is in God's hands, not yours," Diannah replied, wrapping her arms tightly around her daughter, and embracing her in a hug. Char snuggled into her mother, and lay her head on her shoulder, giving up, and letting the tears flow freely.

As mother and daughter stood in the kitchen, tightly embracing each other, Char willed herself to stop thinking about it. It was all she could think about. The first thing she thought about when she woke up in the morning, the last thing she thought about at night. She even dreamed about it. Sometimes she dreamt that the outcome was different. That it never happened, and they all lived happily ever after. It was dreams like these where she wished she could stay asleep forever. When she woke up, she was faced with the harsh reality of what had happened all over again. Memories haunted her, and she couldn't escape them.

Dear God, please give me a Christmas miracle. Char silently prayed. Please, heal our hearts.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.