Is it possible not to love New Year’s? The holiday everyone eagerly awaits—childishly, with hope for miracles, magical transformations, naively believing that the New Year will bring a new life: new experiences, new connections, new love. And for you, renewed, a new happiness will dawn!
Tanya didn’t love it. Not always, of course. Oh, in the past, she too would enthusiastically repeat the New Year’s toast-incantation: “Happy New Year! To new happiness!”—a phrase that now made her wince. Yes, she doesn’t love New Year’s; she downright hates it! She wouldn’t celebrate it at all if it weren’t for her little daughter. But Lily isn’t to blame for her mother’s falling out with Santa Claus.
Her gaze once caught on a photo in a simple frame: herself in a homemade crown next to Santa Claus—smiling, happy! She had hidden all the photos far from sight (and from the urge to tear them into tiny pieces!). Even her wedding portrait was tucked away, but she couldn’t bring herself to remove this one. Now, she certainly couldn’t take it down, as it was Lily’s favorite. Every morning, her daughter would wake up, smile at it, and, with her charming little lisp, say: “My daddy is Santa Claus! And Mommy is so pretty!” Lily eagerly awaited New Year’s, believing her daddy would come, and Tanya couldn’t bear to shatter that childish dream. Her daughter was still too young for harsh truths and disappointments. After much deliberation, Tanya decided to hire a Santa Claus from an agency. This year, it would be this way, and life would show what came next. Lily would grow up and eventually understand.
That photo, taken on a New Year’s night—a magical night when her love was born. Tanya, then still a college student, was celebrating New Year’s with her girlfriends in the dorm. Some guy friends they invited brought along a Santa Claus—a real one, with a beard, in a red coat and fluffy hat, who entertained everyone with children’s poems and jokes, organizing contests, competitions, and games. Dressed in masquerade costumes, they went from room to room, dragged the whole group outside to play snowball fights, and later threw a festive dance party.
Santa Claus turned out to be an 18-year-old guy named Oliver, incredibly cheerful and attractive. Tanya, the only one in the group without a boyfriend, naturally ended up with Oliver as her partner for the night. She was enchanted by him—perhaps this was love at first sight.
The young couple started dating, but in the spring, Oliver was drafted into the army. Tanya faithfully waited for him for two years, living from letter to letter. Oliver returned, and soon they got married. Tanya was given a room in the dorm, and Oliver found a job at a taxi company. Everything seemed perfect—live and be happy! Tanya got pregnant right away. But instead of cherishing his wife, Oliver began urging her to get rid of the baby: “We’re still so young; we need to live for ourselves.”
Tanya, however, didn’t listen. Why would she kill her child? Her first, from the man she loved. Oliver didn’t argue, but he showed no joy at the prospect of fatherhood either. He was constantly at work, often taking night shifts. Truth be told, when their daughter was born, he was the one who named her Lily. Tanya didn’t object. The important thing was that Oliver—her beloved Oliver!—held their daughter in his arms and marveled at how much she looked like him, a spitting image of his childhood self! But he came home less and less, and when he did, he was irritated that the baby was crying. No peace at all! Couldn’t she let him rest? He’d been working double shifts!
On New Year’s, a surprise awaited Tanya—Oliver said he had to work New Year’s Eve, as it was his turn. But he didn’t come back in the morning or even by evening. Beside herself with worry, Tanya called the taxi company and learned that Oliver hadn’t shown up for work in two days. She called every hospital, morgue, and notified both his parents and hers, as if sensing disaster.
But the disaster crept in from an entirely different direction. On the morning of January 2, Oliver came to collect his things. Right at the doorstep, he announced that he had long been in love with another woman. He had spent New Year’s with her because Ellen (that was his beloved’s name) believed that whoever you spend New Year’s with, you’ll spend the year with. He had made up his mind: they were starting a new life.
Tanya, as if in a trance, watched Oliver pack his things. She held Lily in her arms, unable to move. A single thought pulsed in her mind: “What about me? How will I manage alone with a child?” And when Oliver was about to step out the door, she suddenly fell to her knees, clung to his legs, and screamed that she couldn’t live without him, that she’d jump out the window with the baby. He hadn’t expected this.
Caught off guard, he stammered: “Ellen’s waiting for me downstairs…” Tanya sobbed, the terrified baby wailed—and he relented: “Alright, I’ll stay. I’ll just tell Ellen to go home…”
That New Year’s, Tanya would never forget; it couldn’t get any worse. Even the next one, when Oliver finally left for good, wasn’t as dark and bitter.
For a whole year, they somehow lived together. Tanya cried all day, every day. Oliver started drinking to come home and collapse into bed, avoiding his wife’s reproaches and her gaunt face. He tried to leave the family a few times, but Tanya stopped him, often falling to her knees and threatening suicide. During drunken arguments, Oliver confessed that he had never loved her. Before they met, he’d fought with his girlfriend and vowed to date the first girl he met. That girl was Tanya. Sure, he liked her—modest, gentle, kind. But there was no spark, no passion—she was just an ordinary homebody.
During his two years in the army, her letters were comforting, but his thoughts were always with another, his true love. When he returned and learned that his ex had married, he decided to marry too, immediately, out of spite, to show her. There were no other options—Tanya had waited for him for two years!
Strangely, his parents didn’t object to the marriage; they had long considered Tanya their daughter-in-law. The wedding was surprisingly joyful, yet Oliver couldn’t shake the feeling of a strange game, a farce, as if it wasn’t real, not his life, not forever. When Tanya announced they were expecting, Oliver was genuinely terrified. He was 20! He wasn’t ready to be a father, a faithful husband! He hadn’t lived enough! So many great girls out there! And they were all off-limits? No, Oliver couldn’t accept that, and when one of his regular passengers invited him “for coffee,” he went without a second thought. Her name was Ellen—tall, slim, strikingly beautiful, independent, and passionate, living alone in a two-bedroom apartment—a dream mistress! Oliver spent all his free time with her, trying not to think about his pregnant wife, the timid little mouse who wouldn’t take a step without him, catering to his every whim with adoring eyes.
While Tanya was in the hospital giving birth, Oliver prayed the baby would be stillborn—it would free him. But a healthy girl was born, as if on cue (everyone said it’d be a boy, but Oliver, half-joking, had said he only wanted a girl: “If you have a boy, I’ll find someone else!”). He even named her after his mistress.
Everything at home irritated him: the baby crying, the tiny room, Tanya without manicured nails or styled hair. But it was Ellen who ultimately ordered him to leave his family. For a whole year, he was torn between home and his mistress: Tanya cried at home, while Ellen got angry and pouted. He ran back and forth until Tanya’s patience finally snapped.
Tanya hadn’t told anyone what was happening between her and Oliver. Then Oliver’s mother arrived, took one look at her emaciated daughter-in-law, who looked like a gust of wind could knock her over, and understood everything, even though Tanya tried to say Oliver was on duty again. Sobbing, Tanya told her mother-in-law everything: about the mistress, how Oliver had tried to leave them multiple times and she stopped him, how he sometimes brought sandwiches made by his mistress so Tanya could learn to make them the same way, and how she did so many things wrong compared to his Ellen.
Her mother-in-law, a wise woman, advised: “Don’t hold him back. If he wants to go, let him. There’ll be no life otherwise. Maybe he’ll come to his senses. You won’t be alone. You’re my daughter, Lily is my granddaughter. Everything will be alright!”
Tanya believed her and found peace. When Oliver started packing his things again before New Year’s, she packed his suitcase without tears. He didn’t believe it at first: “I’m leaving, you hear?”—he paused at the door, waiting. “Go. I’ve had enough New Year’s surprises,” she said, closing the door.
She cried, of course, all through New Year’s night, but without fear or despair.
It was tough. But her daughter was growing, and that gave her strength. Her parents, her in-laws, even Oliver’s sister, a college student, helped out, coming over on weekends to play with her niece and give Tanya a break. Oliver didn’t contact anyone.
His parents had warned him that his mistress wasn’t welcome in their home: “You’re our son, we love you, but we already have a daughter-in-law, and we don’t need another. Come alone if you want, but don’t bring that snake.” He was offended. His mother’s heart ached, but she kept her word.
A year passed. Oliver lived with Ellen, increasingly realizing she wasn’t the love of his life. The passion cooled, her gourmet sandwiches grew tiresome, and her predatory beauty began to irritate him. Ellen started throwing tantrums, demanding he divorce Tanya and marry her. They even went to pick out rings and a wedding dress. It was a bad idea: when Ellen stepped out in the wedding gown, Oliver saw Tanya instead. A petite girl with innocent blue eyes, looking at him so tenderly and lovingly, something this sophisticated tigress could never do. Because Ellen wasn’t capable of loving so selflessly and sincerely.
Yielding to Ellen’s demands, Oliver went home for the marriage certificate. He opened the door with his own key (Tanya hadn’t even changed the lock!) and froze on the threshold. From the wall, Tanya’s happy eyes looked at him—a silly girl in a crown—and his whole life flashed before him.
His unfaithful beloved, now half-forgotten. That distant New Year’s night. Cheerful Tanya with twinkling lights in her blue eyes. Her 114 letters that brought warmth and peace during his army service. The wedding. Little Lily in his arms. And his mother’s eyes, full of pain and worry.
What had he done? He hadn’t even remembered his daughter’s birthday!
In the photo, Tanya looked at him—not judging, not scorning, demanding nothing—happy! Because he was by her side. Suddenly, Oliver realized he had been happy with her too. He just hadn’t understood it.
Instead of looking for documents, he picked up the camera. He scrolled through the pictures, as if rewinding his life: here they were sledding with Lily, there eating ice cream at a café, here celebrating a birthday. He zoomed in on his family’s faces, and his heart ached: how he missed them!
He went through every photo, unconsciously searching for another man beside Tanya—there was none. A small relief. Maybe there was still a chance to fix things? Then he remembered what he’d done and was horrified. No, something like that couldn’t be forgiven.
Ellen threw a fit when she learned Oliver hadn’t filed for divorce. He was glad for it, packed his things, and left. At the door, he turned back: “I’m sorry…” “You’re not coming back?” she understood. “No,” he said, closing the door. Ellen didn’t try to stop him. She was too proud. She wasn’t Tanya.
Oliver moved in with his parents. He couldn’t muster the courage to face Tanya. He was afraid she’d drive him away, say something that would make returning impossible. He went to the preschool to see Lily. The teacher knew him and let him in. The kids were playing outside. Lily was drawing something in the snow with a stick.
Oliver approached and crouched beside her:
— Hi!
— Hi! — the little girl replied.
— What are you doing?
— Writing a letter to Daddy.
Oliver’s throat tightened.
— And what are you writing?
— For Daddy to come for New Year’s!
He couldn’t hold back:
— I’m already here! I’m your daddy!
Lily looked at him suspiciously and ran to the teacher:
— No! My daddy is Santa Claus!
The teacher gestured for Oliver to leave. He walked away, tears blurring his vision.
He cried, perhaps for the first time in memory. The worst part was knowing he was to blame, that he had destroyed his own happiness, ruined his family’s bright future.
Before New Year’s, Oliver’s mother called Tanya and invited her to the celebration. Tanya hesitated at first. But Oliver definitely wouldn’t be there, so why stay in the city?
— I’ve already ordered a Santa Claus for Lily, though.
— Cancel it. We’ll have our own Santa Claus. Pack up, Tanya, Dad’s already on his way to pick you up.
The whole family gathered for the holiday: Oliver’s parents and his sister with her fiancé, Tanya’s parents and brothers, a cousin with her kids. For the first time in a long while, Tanya felt truly at home. Joking merrily, they decorated the room and set the table. The kids ran around the Christmas tree, waiting for gifts to appear beneath it.
The doorbell rang, and Santa Claus walked in. Before he could say, “I’ve traveled the world…,” Lily, shouting “Daddy! Hi!” had already jumped into his arms. Santa Claus visibly faltered but continued his performance—with Lily clinging to his neck.
“They didn’t warn him,” Tanya worried, but seeing the actor didn’t mind, she went back to setting the table. Half an hour later, when everything was ready, Tanya returned to the room. The kids were circling the tree in a round dance, her Lily holding Santa Claus’s hand, laughing happily. Santa was now gloveless, and Tanya noticed a wedding ring on his hand. The hand itself looked strikingly familiar. Peering closer, she nearly fainted: it was Oliver! Another deception! How could they lie to her! She barely restrained herself from shouting, not wanting to scare the children. Within minutes, her anger began to subside, and Tanya could calmly take in her surroundings.
Loving, smiling faces, warm glances—a real family!
And happy Lily, who had finally gotten her daddy.
Oliver approached Tanya and knelt before her:
— Tanya, I’ve wronged you terribly. I know it’s unforgivable, but I’m begging you: please try! It’s New Year’s Eve—a time when everything can change. I promise to spend every New Year’s from now on with you and Lily. You’re my Snow Maiden, my queen!
Out of nowhere, a crown appeared in Oliver’s hands, and he stood to place it on Tanya’s head.
— My mommy’s a queen! And Daddy’s Santa Claus! — Lily danced around her parents.
Tanya cried, hiding her face in Santa’s cotton beard. She had long forgiven her husband. Now she was ready to let him back into her life, if only to see Lily’s eyes shine with joy. If only their parents could be at peace and healthy. If only she could feel his heart beating close to hers. If only he would never let her go. Ever.
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