Michael's Wish, part 11

“He wants to end the marriage?” Michael asked the question almost philosophically.

The young children had been put to bed. Michael held court around a roaring fireplace. He was seated on a Queen Anne sofa with his wife to his right and his mistress to his left. His two elder daughters sat together on a matching loveseat. His brother's wife sat across the room on a solitary chaise longue. His mind flipped through all the secrets open and covert, half-truths, chicanery and verbal innuendoes in which he'd engaged on his twin half-brother's behalf.

Claire was his sister-in-law by arrangement. His own marriage had been arranged but the tempermental and age differences between his wife and him were far less pronounced. Claire yanked individual strands of tinsel off the tree and flicked them into the air. “Yes, he said that and then vanished.”

“I can't see a reason to disagree with him. Your marriage is empty. You barely like him. You've been insufferably acrid towards him of late. Is there any reason you want to remain married?”

“Is there a reason he just left like that?” she evaded.

“Probably, even if I don't know what it is.”

“About the only reason to stay is that you're a great ...” Claire looked at Krystie and Nicole “... bed warmer. And since I bore your only son, I'm guessing I'm not getting any more ... bed warmth.”

Michael would rather not have remembered what it took to get himself going on the few nights he spent in bed with Claire. Morgan had agreed to the marriage out of filial duty. She had to have crossed the line badly for him to find her intolerable.

“This is the earliest he's ever disappeared and he did it right under our noses. I wonder if he used a mental incant.” Michael's mind, normally emotionally linked to his brother's, traditionally felt nothing from his twin during his holiday absence. The happiest day of the year for Michael seemed the loneliest for Morgan as the one unfailing support cuts off for the period.

“He's done this for so long, Dad,” Nicole said, exhibiting her father's decisiveness, “we'll just celebrate as we always do and have faith he'll return.”

Michael smiled warmly. “And hope that next year he doesn't need to find his way home.” He pressed his forehead in astonishment. “My god... it's a tradition.”

Karen looked at him. “All of this?”

“Yes, I suppose all of this, but the line was first said by Dad when I was six. It's been repeated every year since for the exact same reason.”

Krystie quietly asked, “He's left you alone for Christmas for twenty-nine years?”

Michael put his arms around the two women beside him. “Me? I've never been lonely this time of year. A house full of lifelong servents, Dad, two little wonderful surprises, an entire village, a mistress, an adopted son, a wife, a sister-in-law, three more children. When did I have a chance to be lonely or unloved?”

Claire noted, “If he started disappearing at six, he couldn't have meant it maliciously really.”

Michael shook his head. “No, he.. was kidnapped by mother the first fifteen times or so and then I guess it was habit by the time she stopped. She was robbing him of his bond with Dad. Dad tried very hard to give him happiness and joy in his life and she kept taking it from him.”

Margaret leaned against his shoulder. “He really isn't that hard to understand, then?”

A solitary tear ran down Michael's cheek as he pressed his lips to his wife's forehead. “He is, and he isn't. But you can't force someone to feel joy, especially when the season reminds you that you have so little of it.”