To anyone who found their way here looking for Neil Gaiman's Calendar of Tales: I'm sorry to disappoint you. This is just a random person online taking his idea and his questions, and doing her own Calendar of Tales. You're more than welcome to stay and read my story too, though I have to warn you, I am definitely no Neil Gaiman.
Here's how this works: I asked a question. People answered the question. I picked one of the answers and wrote a short story based on it.
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What’s your happiest memory of April?
(I’m using two answers this time, because they work together quite nicely.)
Honeymoon in Paris (Answer from mom, again)
When my brother arrived home after being born (Answer from Camilo)
It hurt more than anything had ever hurt in the history of the world. She knew it was probably an exaggeration. The doctors said this birth seemed to be a very easy and fast and straightforward one, considering it was her first. But in that moment, she didn’t really care if it was an exaggeration or not. She also didn’t care that she had obviously known this going in. Well, known about it. She didn’t think you could really know the pain until you knew the pain.
And she had opted out of the pain meds. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. The right choice to make. Now it seemed like utter madness.
They had been at the hospital for hours. She wanted it all to be over already. Just a little bit longer, they told her. You’re doing great. You’re ready to go very soon. Let’s just give it fifteen more minutes, and then you're probably ready to push. She didn’t want fifteen more minutes.
She wasn’t sure how she made it through. It was all a blur of pain and her wonderful, magnificent husband holding her hand and probably getting his crushed to pieces in her grip, whispering beautiful words into her ear. He was the most amazing thing in the world. Someone told her to push, so she did. Again. And again. And again.
There was a sound. Something tiny was crying. It was almost enough to make her forget the pain. She lifted her head to look towards her feet, where the obstetrician was wiping the screaming thing that had just come out of her to get it dry and clean. And then they gave it to her, wrapped in soft blankets.
She had been wrong. This tiny creature was what was the most amazing thing in the world. This tiny creature was what made the last few hours worth it, a million times over.
“Congratulations,” someone told them. “A perfect baby boy.”
She had always secretly wanted a girl. She couldn’t care less anymore.
“Do you have a name yet?” someone asked. She wasn’t paying attention. All her focus was in the tiny tiny face in her arms.
“No, not yet,” she heard her husband tell them. “We want to get to know him first, to know who he is.”
They were allowed to go home a couple of days later, after the doctors were sure nothing would go wrong immediately after birth. It was very rare for anything to go wrong, they were told, but it did happen, so they wanted them to stay in the hospital for a couple of nights, just to be safe. But nothing went wrong, and they arrived home after two nights in a hospital bed. Both of their mothers had showed up at their apartment and cleaned the place together while they had been at the hospital, and cooked some absolutely delicious lunch. They would have wanted to come to the hospital, but she hadn’t wanted to be crowded with people while trying to push another one out of her body, and after that she had wanted to simply rest in peace. They were told they could come if something went wrong, but otherwise they could wait until they got home to see their first grandchild.
They were greeted with the kind of overwhelming warmth she had rarely seen from either mother but that was most welcome. It was good to know the baby had an essential army of grandparents ready to spoil the first child in either family in a long time.
They let the mothers fuss over them, and during the afternoon also grandfathers and siblings showed up to fuss even more. By the time the sun was setting, she pulled her husband to the side.
“Please get rid of them,” she said, pleading.
“They want to help. To be supportive,” he tried. He had always been much better in larger groups than she was. There were eleven people and a baby in their not-that-big-at-all apartment right now, and that was too much for her.
“I know,” she said. “But right now the best way to support me is to let me rest, and I can’t do that with all these people around. I know they’re excited about the baby, and that they all want to help, but there will be time later. Tonight I want to be with just the three of us.”
“Okay,” he said, and kissed her gently.
Somehow he managed to herd everyone out of the apartment in twenty minutes, without making anyone feel unwelcome or like they were thrown out. She didn’t know how he did that. She wouldn’t have been able to pull that off, not in a thousand years.
They lay in bed, the baby between them breathing softly. Neither was talking. In that moment, there was nothing to say. She was looking at the two of them, happiness swelling in her chest, love radiating from every pore in her body.
A thought came to her, unbidden: what had she ever done to deserve as wonderful a life as she had? The most amazing husband, the most wonderful baby. She pushed the thought out of her head. She didn’t know the answer. And she didn’t care, really. They were there, and that was all that mattered.
_________________________________________
What’s your happiest memory of April?
(I’m using two answers this time, because they work together quite nicely.)
Honeymoon in Paris (Answer from mom, again)
When my brother arrived home after being born (Answer from Camilo)
She was still picking rice from her hair and her huge white dress a kilometer away from the church. From the corner of her eye she saw her new husband looking at her. She looked up at him on the back seat next to her and smiled.
“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he said earnestly. She felt herself blushing. Even after all the years they had been together his compliments still made her flush. He leaned over and kissed her slowly, not paying any attention to their driver. When he pulled away a smile lingered on her face.
“I wish this car ride would never end,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I’ll be there with you the whole time.”
“You will be there with me forever,” she reminded him.
“I will,” he admitted. “And as a first step towards that I will be there for you today.”
She smiled and held on to his hand tighter.
“I will distract the beast as well as I can, so you won’t have to,” he continued. He was joking now. She snorted.
“Did you just call our wedding guests the beast?”
“You’re the one making them sound like that,” he shrugged. “I’m just paraphrasing your words.”
She spent a moment trying to come up with a way to respond to that.
“Honey,” he said and she looked up at him. “I know if it was up to you we wouldn’t have a wedding reception. It means a lot to me that you agreed to this. It means a lot to both of our families.”
“It’s our wedding. What means a lot to us should be more important than what means a lot to them.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But it means a lot to me too. So I will be there to make sure you’re not too uncomfortable through the whole thing.”
“We can still not go,” she said after a moment of silence. “We can tell the driver to take us wherever. Somewhere that isn’t the reception.”
She was only half-joking. She didn’t want to go to the party. Just the idea of having a day of forced politeness and faked gratitude with all the relatives and friends of both sides made her anxious. But she had already agreed to this. He was worth it. If having a wedding (it wasn’t even a big wedding, really, just some relatives and friends) made him happy, it was worth suffering through it, hands down. She had somehow, unbelievably, landed the most wonderful man in the world, one she wasn’t half worth. It still blew her mind, it still didn’t make any sense. So if she could make him at least a little bit happy by spending a day at their own wedding, she would do it. Still, she selfishly wished he would now say “okay, let’s go back home, just the two of us”. She knew he wouldn’t, and that was ok. But a girl could dream.
He looked at her, smiling slightly sadly.
“I’m here,” he said. “And who knows, maybe you’ll even enjoy it. Just... a change of attitude?”
She knew he intended it to sound like a joke, but he meant it. She shook her head the tiniest bit, then put on her brave-face smile.
“I’ll try my best,” she told him, and she really meant it. The smile that spread on his face was alone worth every bit of the discomfort to come.
“You are amazing,” he told her and kissed her again. It was a long kiss, a sweet kiss. She was left completely breathless as he pulled away.
The car stopped. They shared a look. He stepped out of the car and walked around it to open the door for her. She took a deep breath, and took the hand of her new husband.
“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he said earnestly. She felt herself blushing. Even after all the years they had been together his compliments still made her flush. He leaned over and kissed her slowly, not paying any attention to their driver. When he pulled away a smile lingered on her face.
“I wish this car ride would never end,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
“Don’t worry,” he said gently. “I’ll be there with you the whole time.”
“You will be there with me forever,” she reminded him.
“I will,” he admitted. “And as a first step towards that I will be there for you today.”
She smiled and held on to his hand tighter.
“I will distract the beast as well as I can, so you won’t have to,” he continued. He was joking now. She snorted.
“Did you just call our wedding guests the beast?”
“You’re the one making them sound like that,” he shrugged. “I’m just paraphrasing your words.”
She spent a moment trying to come up with a way to respond to that.
“Honey,” he said and she looked up at him. “I know if it was up to you we wouldn’t have a wedding reception. It means a lot to me that you agreed to this. It means a lot to both of our families.”
“It’s our wedding. What means a lot to us should be more important than what means a lot to them.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But it means a lot to me too. So I will be there to make sure you’re not too uncomfortable through the whole thing.”
“We can still not go,” she said after a moment of silence. “We can tell the driver to take us wherever. Somewhere that isn’t the reception.”
She was only half-joking. She didn’t want to go to the party. Just the idea of having a day of forced politeness and faked gratitude with all the relatives and friends of both sides made her anxious. But she had already agreed to this. He was worth it. If having a wedding (it wasn’t even a big wedding, really, just some relatives and friends) made him happy, it was worth suffering through it, hands down. She had somehow, unbelievably, landed the most wonderful man in the world, one she wasn’t half worth. It still blew her mind, it still didn’t make any sense. So if she could make him at least a little bit happy by spending a day at their own wedding, she would do it. Still, she selfishly wished he would now say “okay, let’s go back home, just the two of us”. She knew he wouldn’t, and that was ok. But a girl could dream.
He looked at her, smiling slightly sadly.
“I’m here,” he said. “And who knows, maybe you’ll even enjoy it. Just... a change of attitude?”
She knew he intended it to sound like a joke, but he meant it. She shook her head the tiniest bit, then put on her brave-face smile.
“I’ll try my best,” she told him, and she really meant it. The smile that spread on his face was alone worth every bit of the discomfort to come.
“You are amazing,” he told her and kissed her again. It was a long kiss, a sweet kiss. She was left completely breathless as he pulled away.
The car stopped. They shared a look. He stepped out of the car and walked around it to open the door for her. She took a deep breath, and took the hand of her new husband.
***
She was leaning on the railing of the French balcony, looking down at the people moving around in the park. The sun had already set, and it was going to be dark soon, but the early summer breeze was warm on her skin. She smiled to herself. They had been gone a long time, but not quite long enough, if you asked her. Even so, it was good to be back in Europe.
“I told you,” he said, coming to her and wrapping his arms around her from behind.
“What did you tell me?” she asked, leaning back into his warm embrace.
“That we can have a wedding and still have a honeymoon that lasts for almost a year and crosses four continents.” She could hear the smile in his voice. The smile made her happy.
“You did,” she admitted. “And you were right. Though I’m not sure this can still be called the honeymoon.”
“It’s still the honeymoon. We haven’t been back home yet.”
“What if we had decided to go full digi-nomad and never went back? When would it stop being a honeymoon?”
“It wouldn’t,” he said, kissing the back of her head. She turned around, leaning her back on the railing now behind her.
“Of course it would,” she laughed, and kissed him. “I say it stopped being a honeymoon once we started working again.”
“If you say so,” he said and pulled her gently away from the door, tugging a ceiling-to-floor curtain to cover the open doorway.
They spent the next couple of days doing all the things a dutiful tourist does in Paris. Climbing Notre Dame, walking along the river, taking a cheesy couple picture on top of the Eiffel tower, eating as much croissants and baguettes and crêpes as they possibly could.
“I don’t want to go back home,” she whispered, safe and warm, laying in bed with one of his arms under her head on their last night. A summer storm had surprised them, and by the time they had gotten back to their hotel room they were soaked to the bone and cold. They had simply stripped the wet clothes off, hung them to dry and covered themselves with the huge, comfortably heavy but not too thick blanket in the bed.
He kissed her hair before answering.
“You don’t want to see our families, for a change? Live, not on screen.”
“I do. But I also don’t want this to ever end,” she admitted.
“Life like this is ending soon either way,” he said in his kind voice. She wondered, for the millionth time, what she had ever done to deserve someone like him. He was kind, and strong, and smart, and funny, and always made her feel loved down to the smallest bones of her body. And she was… just her. Nothing special by any definition of the word. She loved him with everything she was.
“I know. And I’m more excited for it than I have ever been for anything,” she said. “And I know that travelling around with a baby wouldn’t be exactly easy, and that we live in one of the best countries in the world to raise one, but… I’m still sad this will end.”
“I know.”
“I’m sad. But I’m also happier than I’ve ever been in my life,” she told him.
“I know.” She felt him smiling against her hair, heard it in his voice.
The next morning they flew home.
Two days later they had their first prenatal checks. She cried when she heard everything was fine. She was so full of love she thought she might burst, if she didn’t let some of it out.
***
It hurt more than anything had ever hurt in the history of the world. She knew it was probably an exaggeration. The doctors said this birth seemed to be a very easy and fast and straightforward one, considering it was her first. But in that moment, she didn’t really care if it was an exaggeration or not. She also didn’t care that she had obviously known this going in. Well, known about it. She didn’t think you could really know the pain until you knew the pain.
And she had opted out of the pain meds. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. The right choice to make. Now it seemed like utter madness.
They had been at the hospital for hours. She wanted it all to be over already. Just a little bit longer, they told her. You’re doing great. You’re ready to go very soon. Let’s just give it fifteen more minutes, and then you're probably ready to push. She didn’t want fifteen more minutes.
She wasn’t sure how she made it through. It was all a blur of pain and her wonderful, magnificent husband holding her hand and probably getting his crushed to pieces in her grip, whispering beautiful words into her ear. He was the most amazing thing in the world. Someone told her to push, so she did. Again. And again. And again.
There was a sound. Something tiny was crying. It was almost enough to make her forget the pain. She lifted her head to look towards her feet, where the obstetrician was wiping the screaming thing that had just come out of her to get it dry and clean. And then they gave it to her, wrapped in soft blankets.
She had been wrong. This tiny creature was what was the most amazing thing in the world. This tiny creature was what made the last few hours worth it, a million times over.
“Congratulations,” someone told them. “A perfect baby boy.”
She had always secretly wanted a girl. She couldn’t care less anymore.
“Do you have a name yet?” someone asked. She wasn’t paying attention. All her focus was in the tiny tiny face in her arms.
“No, not yet,” she heard her husband tell them. “We want to get to know him first, to know who he is.”
They were allowed to go home a couple of days later, after the doctors were sure nothing would go wrong immediately after birth. It was very rare for anything to go wrong, they were told, but it did happen, so they wanted them to stay in the hospital for a couple of nights, just to be safe. But nothing went wrong, and they arrived home after two nights in a hospital bed. Both of their mothers had showed up at their apartment and cleaned the place together while they had been at the hospital, and cooked some absolutely delicious lunch. They would have wanted to come to the hospital, but she hadn’t wanted to be crowded with people while trying to push another one out of her body, and after that she had wanted to simply rest in peace. They were told they could come if something went wrong, but otherwise they could wait until they got home to see their first grandchild.
They were greeted with the kind of overwhelming warmth she had rarely seen from either mother but that was most welcome. It was good to know the baby had an essential army of grandparents ready to spoil the first child in either family in a long time.
They let the mothers fuss over them, and during the afternoon also grandfathers and siblings showed up to fuss even more. By the time the sun was setting, she pulled her husband to the side.
“Please get rid of them,” she said, pleading.
“They want to help. To be supportive,” he tried. He had always been much better in larger groups than she was. There were eleven people and a baby in their not-that-big-at-all apartment right now, and that was too much for her.
“I know,” she said. “But right now the best way to support me is to let me rest, and I can’t do that with all these people around. I know they’re excited about the baby, and that they all want to help, but there will be time later. Tonight I want to be with just the three of us.”
“Okay,” he said, and kissed her gently.
Somehow he managed to herd everyone out of the apartment in twenty minutes, without making anyone feel unwelcome or like they were thrown out. She didn’t know how he did that. She wouldn’t have been able to pull that off, not in a thousand years.
They lay in bed, the baby between them breathing softly. Neither was talking. In that moment, there was nothing to say. She was looking at the two of them, happiness swelling in her chest, love radiating from every pore in her body.
A thought came to her, unbidden: what had she ever done to deserve as wonderful a life as she had? The most amazing husband, the most wonderful baby. She pushed the thought out of her head. She didn’t know the answer. And she didn’t care, really. They were there, and that was all that mattered.
