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Edwin had always loved Christmas. His birthday, which fell shortly into January, was usually overtaken by plans for school or work or any of the other millions of things that kept his family busy and distracted and distant.
But Christmas? His father would be off of work, his mother would be focused on showing off how good of a wife and mother she was, and he would be free from classes and able to do whatever pleased him.
Which was anything related to the holiday, of course.
His mother would always insist on getting the biggest tree they could find and having it delivered to their home. When he was little his father would heft him up onto his shoulders so he could decorate it, covering it with ivy and holly and little paper chains he and a girl named Mable from his church would make.
He’d never felt braver than when he was up there. His father was a tall man, and his broad shoulders had felt like the safest place he could have ever been.
Eventually that feeling went away.
Holiday dinners were important to the Payne family. They were a chance to entertain people, a chance to show off their wealth and invite people into their home. Dancing and feasting and singing were just a few of the things that they would be expected to participate in, and as a child Edwin had loved nothing more than to hook arms with the children his parents' friends would bring over and dance.
All of that changed as they got older. Slowly, less and less children wanted to dance with Edwin, to hold his hand or arm and twirl around like they had before. Boys refused because that would make them look like weak little Mary-Annes in front of the girls that they actually liked, and girls refused because they were far more inclined to take another’s.
Occasionally, Mable’s father and his would insist the two of them dance, which would only embarrass the two of them. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were likely setting them up once they were old enough.
All of it eventually came to an end when he went to St. Hilarions for school. By the time he returned home on break, it seemed as if his family had forgotten about the holiday all together.
There was no tree in the final year of his life. His mother had insisted that it would only drop prickly little needles all over the house that she would have to clean up– not that she had ever once cleaned anything up herself– and that it was simply a frivolous thing that no one really wanted anymore. Wasn’t Edwin too old to want to decorate a tree, anyways? He was almost sixteen.
There was no huge family dinner either. Then again, there hadn’t been one the year before, either. It seemed strange to celebrate when so many of his cousins and uncles were off fighting in the war, likely never to come home.
His father would have likely been, too, if he hadn’t been injured. Which was just another thing to remind them all that this was not a time to celebrate.
Edwin wished he could forget that final holiday he’d spent with his family. The way none of them had even really spoken to each other until it was time for him to go back to school and someone had to make sure he got to the train station on time.
That was the last Christmas and New Years he spent alive and with his family before being murdered and dragged to Hell.
If he could forget it, maybe it wouldn’t feel so vital that he got this one right.
This was the first Christmas he and Charles got to spend together. The first one since he had escaped Hell, the first one since Charles had died, the first one that was for them and not anyone else.
It had to be right.
And yet, Edwin couldn’t figure out how to make it right. They didn’t have a stable place to stay, which ruled out a tree and decorations, they couldn’t eat any of the things Edwin traditionally associated with Christmas, and since they were ghosts no one could hear them sing carols. Gifts seemed like a strange idea as well without having a place to store them. Plus, if he were honest, he had no idea what a sixteen-year-old boy from the 80s would want.
He knew Charles liked music, but he hadn’t yet figured out how to allow him to listen to whatever he liked. (Something about a Walking Man? Edwin didn’t understand it.) There were also plenty of movies the other boy enjoyed as well, but again, with no stable place to store things it seemed pointless to figure out at the time. All of the sports Charles had enjoyed in life were ruled out too, based simply on the fact that they would never have enough people to play them.
All in all, it was shaping up to be the worst Christmas Edwin had ever experienced. And if this was the worst one for Edwin, he couldn’t imagine how it felt for Charles, who had never experienced a Christmas without his family before.
He tried to hide how all of this was affecting him, and yet from the look on Charles’s face he could tell he was failing. The other boy was unusually perceptive when it came to Edwin’s moods, unlike anyone Edwin had ever known during his life.
“Is something the matter?” Charles asked, bumping lightly into Edwin’s side.
The streets were packed with last minute holiday shoppers and travelers. If they had still been alive they would have had to dodge and swerve a million different people all at once, but being dead had the slight perk of letting people phase through them.
Charles stepped to the side as a particularly stressed looking mother hurried by them. Edwin watched as she ushered her kids down the street, hardly even noticing when they walked through him.
“What makes you think that?” Edwin asked. Again, he thought he’d been hiding his feelings rather well.
A strange look crossed Charles’s face, one that Edwin was far too used to seeing. He’d never been able to pin down the exact emotion that it was trying to convey, but he knew that it was usually related to something from their lives before they became ghosts.
“Nothing, I guess. You just seem a little tense,” he said, gesturing to where Edwin was pressing his fists together.
Edwin dropped his hands to his side. “Everything is fine.”
Charles eyed him warily. “Right, yeah,” he said. “Totally believable.”
Edwin sighed as he struggled to not only contain himself but give proper words to what he was feeling. Emotions were never something he had been very good at.
“This was supposed to be fun,” Edwin said. He tried to ignore how childish he sounded, his tone just this side of whiny. A mature young man wouldn’t whine over something as stupid as Christmas.
Charles blinked. “What’s supposed to be fun?” he asked.
Edwin waved around with one of his hands. “This!” Charles followed his gesture, taking in all the chaos around them. “The holidays are meant to be something… special. But I’m afraid I don't quite understand how all of this is supposed to work anymore.”
He stared at him for a moment, understanding dawning on his face. “You like Christmas?” he asked, something bordering on amazement in his tone.
Edwin sniffed and tried not to be embarrassed. “Of course I do,” he said. “It is a very festive time of year.”
“Yeah, mate, I just never took you for the festive type,” he said. Still, the smile on his face was continuing to grow as he leaned forward and jabbed at Edwin’s side. “Look at you! Who woulda guessed it?”
Edwin tried to keep the smile off his face at Charles’s antics. “The holidays used to be very important to my family,” he said. He turned to look at all the people flowing around them, so different from how it had been during his lifetime. “Everything is different now, I suppose.”
Did his parents ever celebrate Christmas after he died? Did they ever put up another tree or have dinner or dance? Neither his father nor his mother were the sentimental types, but he liked to believe they did. That they decorated the tree with paper rings like he had, and set a place for him at dinner every year. He didn’t like the thought of his family being sad around the holidays, just the thought that they had remembered him.
But none of that really mattered. This was Charles’s first Christmas since he passed, so that clearly was supposed to take priority. And here he was, making it all about himself.
Charles was quiet as he watched Edwin. He could feel his eyes on him, heavy as they evaluated him and debated what he should say.
“Have you ever been ice skating?” Charles asked.
Edwin tilted his head as he looked at him. “No?”
Charles grinned. “Me neither.”
Edwin nodded, unsure what he should do with this information. “Was there a reason you brought this up?” he asked.
He jumped as Charles reached out and took his hand, instantly leading him like he knew exactly where he wanted to go. “Come on, come on,” he said and pulled him just a bit faster.
Now it didn’t seem to matter whether or not people were walking through them. Charles charged a path straight through until they reached a slightly raised platform full of people. And let out a proud, “Ta-da!”
It was an ice skating rink. Around and around people went, some of them clinging to the low barrier that kept everyone inside while others glided around without a care in the world. Kids giggled and squealed as they slid around the ice and couples held hands as they spun around.
Edwin had seen people ice skating in his time. It was not something his mother had approved of– she said it was much too dangerous and someone like Edwin would likely only get sick from the cold– but he had always admired the hobby. Some people made it seem so graceful while others crashed to the ground like newborn animals.
“Wanna try it?” Charles asked, a huge grin spread across his face.
Edwin couldn’t help but smile. “How did you even know this was here?” he asked.
The smile on Charles’s face faltered for a moment, and Edwin hated that it was his fault. “I- uh. My mum and I used to come to this holiday market. You know… back when I was alive.”
Edwin could have kicked himself. He should have figured there was a reason Charles had seemed to know where everything was in this market. Of course the other boy had picked this one to come to earlier in the day; it was likely the one he was most familiar with.
Had he chosen this one simply because he had visited it when he was alive, or had he chosen this one because he had been hoping to see his family? No matter the answer, Edwin couldn’t blame him for it. He would have likely done the same in his shoes.
He wondered what Charles would have done if they had run into his family. Would the other boy have pointed them out, or would he have let Edwin walk right past them, unknowing that they'd just crossed paths with the people who had provided him with his best friend? Knowing how strongly Charles felt about things, he doubted he would have been able to contain himself if he’d seen them.
“She never would skate with me,” Charles said and in an instant the sadness was gone from his voice, replaced with his peppy cheer. “She always said I looked like a duck waddling around out there.”
If Edwin squinted he could almost imagine one of those little boys out there on the ice was a young Charles, slipping and sliding on the ice until he eventually fell over. Or ran into someone, which seemed equally as likely.
“Well?” Charles asked, still holding his hand out. “I promise not to drag you down.”
“I will probably be the one to do that,” Edwin said but nodded. He placed his hand in Charles’s, ignoring the way his friend’s grip tightened around his just slightly as he pulled him out onto the ice.
Walking on ice was no problem as a ghost, unless they wanted it to be. Which meant allowing part of themself to be physical enough to interact with the living world.
“Wish we could wear skates,” Charles said. His tongue was stuck out the side of his mouth, clearly focusing on where he was dragging his foot. “Make this easier, huh?”
Edwin agreed. Yet he didn’t find it really all that hard. He dragged his feet slightly, just enough to imitate the way others were with their skates and felt a strange sort of pride when he managed to stay upright.
Charles, on the other hand, seemed to be struggling. His other hand darted out, grabbing on to Edwin’s free one as he tried to steady himself. “Whoa!” he said as he pulled Edwin closer to himself.
Through sheer luck alone Edwin managed to keep them on their feet.
“I thought you’d never skated before?” Charles muttered as Edwin righted them. Neither one of them were moving very fast, in fact Edwin was sure a grandmother and her grandson had just lapped them, but that didn’t bother Edwin. It was much more enjoyable to “skate” here next to Charles, holding both hands as they leaned against each other.
“I haven’t,” Edwin said.
Charles nearly fell again, his loafers skidding on the ice in such a way that it reminded Edwin of some sort of comedy act. “Oh, yeah, I’m just supposed to believe you’re naturally this good?”
“I am naturally good at a lot of things,” Edwin said haughtily.
Charles laughed. “Yeah, I guess you are.”
Edwin smiled as they managed to make it a full lap around. Maybe it wasn’t the same way he’d spent the holidays when he was alive, but maybe that didn’t matter.
He’d never be able to go back to how things had been. He could only move forward, and hope that Charles was willing to stay by his side.
His afterlife should be fun, and he couldn’t imagine it being so without Charles.