Free Paper Castles by Terri Lee

their elbows touching on the shared armrest. She hadn’t touched him casually in ages, shared space so intimately she could smell him. The scent of his cologne stirred something in her, both strange and familiar at the same time.
    They sat through and applauded an hour of Christmas carols and skits. Finally, Angela came onstage for her solo. Both Price and Savannah sat up straight in their seats. Savannah heard Price take in a deep, steadying, breath. A big inhale, but no exhale.
    The carol began with eight agonizing arpeggios, through which Angela had to stand with no distraction. All eyes on her. Savannah’s heart pounded. Angela lifted her eyes first, then her chin.
    Oh God, Baby Girl. You look so small …
    When Angela sang the first line of, O Holy Night , the entire auditorium exhaled in wonder.
    “Wow,” PJ whispered.
    Tears filled Savannah’s eyes as the pure and true voice filled the theater. When Angela finished the last clear note, the auditorium erupted in genuine, enthusiastic applause. Angela’s shoulders dropped and her face unfolded in a smile as she saw her father giving her a standing ovation from the seventh row.
    Price fell back in his seat and reached for Savannah’s hand, squeezing hard. Limp with relief, she squeezed back.
    “That’s our girl,” Price said. “We made that.”
    “Yes,” Savannah said, overcome with pride for her daughter and surprise from Price’s spontaneous touch. The house lights had come up and they looked from one another to the clenched tangle of their fingers and back again. For a brief moment Savannah remembered what it felt like to have a partner on this journey. To be united. Moments like these were bigger than the two of them. No matter what may come, they would always be connected through the two children that were born because she and Price had once loved one another.
    People were standing up and moving toward the exit now, eager to claim their offspring and head out into the night. As the slow-moving river of people inched up the narrow aisle, hellos were exchanged. Shouts of “Merry Christmas” and “See you next year” rang out during the exodus. Several familiar faces stopped to congratulate the Palmertons on Angela’s performance. One father slapped Price on the back as if Price had sung the song himself.
    It was several minutes before Angela came running down the aisle and threw herself into her father’s arms. Looking up at him with all adoration and waiting for her accolades.
    Savannah’s heart hurt at the sight of them. The divorce she was contemplating would destroy her children’s lives and leave her with the blame. She would be the enemy.

    Christmas morning arrived without fanfare. Although the kids were no longer babies, and Santa no longer made an appearance, presents were still presents.
    Wrapping paper and bows were strewn in happy abandon and Daisy wriggled her way into the party on the living room floor. It was Savannah’s favorite kind of commotion.
    Price strode back into the room carrying two cups of coffee and handed one to Savannah.
    “Thank you.” She took the cup from his hand, trying to remember the last time he offered her a kind gesture.
    “Merry Christmas.” Price looked down at her as if he had something else to say, but nothing was forthcoming.
    “Merry Christmas,” she said.
    She sipped her coffee while eyeing him over the rim of her cup. On the floor, at the center of the chaos, Price looked like a big kid. Grinning as he watched the kids open their presents with shouts of excitement. Every once in a while he’d look back over his shoulder at Savannah, his expression unguarded, without artifice. She could almost hear him saying, “Are you watching, Mommy? Do you see this?”
    She saw it. She was fully present, yet overcome with nostalgia. The past blurred as if all the dates on the backs of pictures in a mental photo album had been erased. It was just one big faded Christmas picture.
    She saw toddlers in footed