She had a pagan heart, my Lily, and memories of childhood Christmases with Santa. There was a tree in the living room, and gifts beneath it.
We had marked the Solstice with candles, a fire and a good meal shared before it. Mulled wine and ginger cookies while the night stretched on, her face soft in the firelight.
Christmas Eve came, mild and damp. Melting snow dripped from the roof, pattering against the disappearing banks along the driveway. In the evening, Lilith fed us with pea soup which had simmered all day, and bread fresh from the oven. We couldn’t agree on whether to open the gifts that night, or in the morning, so we decided to do both. One present then, the others in the morning.
Sitting nervously next to one another in the glow of the tree, each of us held a small gift. Lilith tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed and turned the little box over in her hands, fussing nervously. I laid my hand over hers, and she raised her head.
“Lily, open this,” I said gently as I handed her her gift, and laid my mask aside.
She laid her other gift aside and ripped the paper carefully off the box. I watched with trepidation, unsure if she would like it. Her mouth formed a silent oh as she opened the lid and lifted the necklace from the box.
“Aether,” she whispered, eyes glistening, “it’s so beautiful. What’s the stone?”
I scooted closer to her, taking the necklace from her to fasten the long chain around her neck. I picked up the stone again and laid it in her hands.
“It’s a black opal,” I laid my hand against her cheek and swallowed past the lump forming in my throat. The stone burned and shimmered with bright sparks of colour from its depths. “This is how my heart feels when we’re together, Lily.” I leaned in and kissed her softly. “You’re the fire in the dark of my years.”
A little sob escaped her as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I pulled her into my lap and held her tightly. She leaned against my shoulder, fist tightly clenched around the stone.
After a moment, she leaned over and handed me my present. Lily slid off my lap, still holding the stone around her neck.
“Go ahead,” she said, “open it.”
Pulling off the wrappings and taking the lid from the box, I found a watch. It was lovely, heavy and well-made. I turned it over in my hands and saw Lilith’s name engraved on the back. She took it and fastened it around my wrist, and took my hand in both of hers.
“Time must seem silly to you, Aether, but it’s precious. I only have so much time in this life, and I would give it all to you. That’s why my name is on your watch,” she said in a wavering voice.
We were a teary mess of hugs and tightly wound arms. I took her by the hand and led her upstairs later. We loved one another slowly that night, living in a place where time couldn’t touch us and the pain of the years was forgotten.
Lilith stirred in my arms, waking me.
It was Christmas morning.
Christmas. Jul. Winter Solstice. A hundred different names.
A hundred different meanings. The darkest night, the shortest day. The birth of the Horned One. The birth of Jesus. A time of joy, family, shopping, pressure, loneliness, despair and memory.
I laid my hand on Lily’s chest to feel the beating of her heart, passing like time, slipping away like sand through my fingers. All I could do was hold her close, and love her fiercely, I told myself, because time had no master, and love was beyond reasoning.
