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He never knew how to feel around this time of year. For every good Christmas Shawn Hunter celebrated, two crappy or lackluster ones seemed to follow. In fifth grade he'd gotten the bike of his dreams, then the following year his dad lost his job and they'd had to move into the trailer park. Everything between then and now had been a jumble of good and bad. Working for mobsters, the messy breakup with Angela followed by Cory and Topanga's meddling. And last year...
He didn't like to think about that Christmas too much. Sometimes he wished he'd taken Cory's advice and torn up that letter; after all, was it really such a bad thing, not to know everything? He'd been perfectly happy with Virna as his mom, so why should her not being his birth mother change that? It wasn't like he'd ever gotten to know his real mother anyway, and he never would have.
This year, the only news he'd recieved was that Eric was bringing a girlfriend home to the Matthews house for Christmas. That was worlds away from finding out his mother wasn't his real mother, and knowing Eric could provide for some real Christmas hilarity.
But even as he helped Cory and Topanga pack the bags and wrap up the presents, even as he joked and laughed and debated with them about which Nickelodeon Christmas special was better, he just didn't feel as happy as he thought he should. He couldn't help but feeling like this year would bring another bombshell, something else he couldn't handle. What if Angela had met someone in Europe? What if his dad let more skeletons out of the Hunter closet despite being dead? What if something had happened to Jack while he was oversease? What if-
"Shawn! Hey, Shawny!"
He nearly dropped the pile of underwear he'd been folding as Cory's voice brought him back to the present.
"Yeah, Cor?"
"Well, it's about time, I've been trying to talk to you for the last five minutes," Cory grumbled. "Okay, now this time why don't you actually give us an answer?"
"Answer?" He felt thirteen again, caught sleeping in class and struggling to come up with a half-baked excuse for Mr. Turner. Cory rolled his eyes.
"About the cookies, Shawn," he said. "Butter cookies with rainbow sprinkles, or the marshmallow chocolate chip stars. Which do you think we should take to my parents' place?"
"Oh yeah!" Now he remembered, Topanga had spent hours in the kitchen making sure every cookie turned out just perfect, slapping his and Cory's hands every time they tried to snatch one or even take a fingerful of the dough. "I dunno, they both look good. And you know how Morgan and Joshua love their cookies."
"See, I thought of that, but then I realized we didn't have enough room in the bag for both tins," Cory said. "Topanga finally narrowed down her choices for what shoes she wanted to bring...unfortunately, that's still four pairs and I can't get her to narrow it down further."
"Well, I'll need them!" Topanga's voice came from the bedroom. "And these four pairs happen to be the ones that go with more than one outfit."
"Yeah, about that," Shawn said. "Just how many outfits did you pack for a week-long trip anyway? At this rate we won't have any room in the car for all the presents!"
"Then maybe we need to address the issue of you buying a bigger car," Topanga said. "You have a job now, can't you afford anything better than that beat-up old piece of junk?"
"Hey." Cory held up a hand. "Topanga, dearest, I love you more than life itself, but never speak ill of Mister Clunker!"
"Yeah, Mister Clunker's like another brother to me, so by extension that makes him Cory's brother and your brother-in-law," Shawn added. Topanga rolled her eyes.
"What is it with you men and your cars anyway?" she sighed. "Look, obviously Mister Clunker isn't going to be big enough for three of us and all our stuff." Her face grew serious. "We may have to take a bus."
Cory and Shawn gasped and clung to each other in fear.
"You're not serious!" they cried. Topanga sighed and buried her face in her hands.
"Why do you two freak out every time you have to take a bus?"
"Because homeless people sleep on buses, and they smell funny," Cory groaned. "Can't we just leave some stuff at home so we can fit everything into the car?"
Topanga sighed again.
"Fine, let's go through the bags," she said. "Maybe we just need to rearrange a few things."
*
They did end up taking the bus, and it wasn't nearly as bad as Cory or Shawn thought it would be. There was one homeless person, but thankfully he didn't smell funny and slept the whole time. Plus, he was all the way in the back.
The commotion back at Cory and Topanga's apartment had served as a distraction from his worries, and so had the chatter for the first hour they were on the bus. But Topanga fell asleep, Cory decided to read a comic book, and Shawn was left alone with his thoughts once more.
Why can't I just relax? I thought being paranoid and neurotic was Cory's job...just because last Christmas was a mess doesn't mean this one is going to be. There's no more skeletons in the Hunter closet, Jack and Rachel are fine, Angela's fine...
He'd always thought being used to the bad parts of life prepared you for the real world, helped you develop a realistic outlook instead of setting yourself up for disappointment. Yet here he was, in the real world, and this "realistic outlook" was doing nothing but driving him crazy.
You'll feel better once we get there, he told himself. Sure enough, once the bus pulled into the station the trio were greeted by Cory's family and Mr. Feeny (Topanga, of course, had called Mr. Matthews and told him they'd be taking the bus). And of course, Eric's girlfriend.
"Cor, Shawnie, Pangers, this is Francessca," Eric said. "We met at a Quizno's where we both ordered the honey borboun chicken, extra dressing. We hit it off right away!"
"Hi!" Francessca was a tall, lanky young woman with dark brown hair tied back in pigtails. "Eric told me all about you, but unfortunately he didn't say who was who so I don't know what to call everyone!"
"Um..." Cory chuckled nervously. "I'm Cory, and this is my lovely wife Topanga." He slid an arm around Topanga's waist, then gestured towards Shawn. "And this is my bestest buddy in the whole world, Shawnie."
"Heeeey, is that a duckie tag on your suitcase, Topanga?" Francessca squealed. Topanga rubbed the back of her head.
"More like a swan, really...but I guess it does look like a duck, now that you mention it!"
"I love duckies!" Francessca said. "They're-"
"-the horsies of the ocean!" Eric finished, and the couple burst into peals of laughter. Shawn couldn't help but laugh out loud himself, it was no wonder those two had hit it off so quickly. Francessca was basically a female Eric.
"Well, I couldn't be happier for you both," Topanga said.
"Me either," Cory laughed. "Looks like ol' Eric finally found his perfect match!"
"Yeah, well, it was bound to happen." Eric grinned, stretching and wrapping an arm around Francessca. "I knew coming back home for a while was a good idea!"
"Says you," Alan snorted. "You're not the one who's doing extra laundry and setting an extra place at the dinner table every night."
"Oh, Alan, give him some credit," Amy scolded. "He's spent more nights out on the town than at home, and he's getting better at doing his own laundry."
"That's right! Yesterday, I put the detergent in all by myself," Eric boasted. "And I finally learned how to separate the whites from the darks!"
"I'm still getting the hang of that," Francessca said. "I wish the washer was as easy as the dryer!"
Morgan snickered.
"Yeah, those two are a match made in heaven, all right."
Watching them, Shawn almost felt like he could begin to relax. This was family, these were the people he'd grown up with. The people who cared for him and scolded him and bailed him out like he was one of their own. It was good to be among them again.
But of course, the moment he let his guard down, something else had to happen. The next bus pulled into the station, and the first person to step off was a familiar face. Their eyes locked, and Shawn felt his heart leap into his throat.
He should have been happier than ever to see her again, especially considering he wasn't expecting to for a good long time. But his earlier worry that she'd met someone wouldn't leave him alone, what if she'd come back to break up with him? Or what if he was subconciously feeling less for her than he did before?
"Angela." He licked his suddenly-dry lips. "W-what are you doing here?"
"I came to see you," she said, and suddenly her bags fell to the floor and her arms were around him. "I've missed you so much."
"I..."
"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to see me?" She pulled back, frowning. "You didn't meet someone else, did you?"
And suddenly it hit him. His so-called realistic outlook on life could prepare him for disappointments, but it left him completely unprepared for the good things.
The past year had been good for him. He had a job, a car, people who cared for him like family, a pet pig. He had his good memories of his father and Virna, memories that no dramatic revalations could tarnish. The love of his life had traveled thousands of miles just to surprise him for Christmas.
"Shawn?"
"I couldn't be happier to see you," he finally said. "You just caught me off guard, that's all. I thought you'd be spending Christmas with your father."
"We already had our Christmas celebration," she said. "He knows how much I miss you, so he bought me a plane ticket to Philly."
Shawn wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. Everyone else seemed to fade into the background; he could see only her, smell her violet perfume, hear only her voice.
"I'll have to thank him," he murmured. "I've missed you so much, you wouldn't believe it."
"I bet I would," she whispered. "Merry Christmas, Shawn."
"Merry Christmas, Angela."
Their lips met, and for the first time since fifth grade Shawn felt truly happy on Christmas Eve.