Kim shook her head. "Nothing so dramatic. After the divorce, when my mother and I moved to Florida, he just seemed to lose interest in me. He sent child support payments, but never included a note. He never even called."
"Did you call him?"
Kim nodded. "Quite a few times. But he wasn't home and I never called him at work. I wrote him every now and then, but as I got older, I stopped trying."
"Aren't you tempted to call him now?"
Kim smiled sadly as she shook her head. "I don't know what good would come of it. I'd probably just end up opening old wounds."
Barbara could tell by her expression that her friend was beginning to get upset. She decided to change the subject. She pulled a container of salsa out of the refrigerator and opened it up. "Maybe we should move on to a happier subject… like New Year's Eve. I can't remember what you did last year," she said, swirling a Bugle in the salsa and offering it to Kim.
"Hmm," Kim said, thinking as she shook her head, declining the unusual snack. "I'm not so sure it's a happier subject At least, not the New Year's Eves I usually have. Last year I went on a blind date with that nutcracker guy. The one that kept cracking those nuts in his teeth. Remember? He kept telling me that wasn't the only way he could crack a nut."
"Oh yeah," Barbara said.
"Actually it was one of my better New Year's. In terms of entertainment value."
"You deserve a really great man to show you how to enjoy the holidays."
Kim laughed. "I have a man. Grandpa Willie."
"You just need to meet a good guy," Barbara continued. "Christmas can be so romantic. The soft holiday music, the sparkling gold lights…"
Kim rolled her eyes and nodded toward the salsa. "I thought you said it was an eatathon. Doesn't sound too romantic to me."
Barbara shook her head, as if giving up. "You're hopeless. Go ahead and be a scrooge. I, however, happen to love the holidays."
"A lot of people do," Kim said, feeling a little guilty about not sharing Barbara's enthusiasm. "My mother always said that Christmas was a wondrous, magical time."
Barbara laughed. "Magical, huh?"
"That's what she said. Every Christmas she'd tell me to think about what I wanted most and make a wish. She promised it would come true."
"And did it?"
Kim shook her head. "I never took her seriously. I don't believe in magic, especially at Christmas. Christmas is… well, it's just like any other time of year. Only people are more irritable."
"I think your mother was right," Barbara said enthusiastically. "Like last year, I stayed here, remember? The whole time I kept thinking about how much I wished I was with my family. And this year, my whole family is meeting back in Maine. My sister is flying in from L.A., my brother from Baltimore… what else but magic could get us all together? And what else but magic could keep us all from killing each other?"
Kim glanced away. Barbara was lucky. She had a brother and a sister, parents that loved her and each other. Kim could understand Barbara's looking forward to Christmas—she would, too, in her place.
"Hey, I have an idea," Barbara said excitedly. "Why don't you make a wish? If it comes true, then you'll know your mother was right; if it doesn't, well…" She stopped speaking.
Kim was shaking her head.
"Cmon, Kim," Barbara said. "Humor me. You've got one wish. What's it going to be? Are you going to sell all your paintings next month?"
Kim knew what she would wish for. And it had nothing to do with her career. She wanted what Barbara had: a family.
Barbara paused, noticing the wave of sadness that had crossed Kim's face. "What's the matter? Thinking about your wish?"
Kim forced herself to laugh. "Yes. I wish for a better date on New Year's."
"That's it?"
"Uh-huh," Kim said, turning away so that Barbara couldn't read her expression.
But she didn't turn quickly enough. One look at Kim's face told Barbara what Kim had wished. "Maybe you should break down and call him," Barbara said quietly.