Smiling politely, Sam said, “You know your mom is gonna freak that you hung it up without her being in here to watch you.”
“Oh well. That’s where I put it and that’s where it’ll stay. I’m done.” Amber brushed her hands off at the job finished and walked away from the tree.
Sam recognized Amber’s rejoinder as her pretending to be hard and uncaring. Her rebel interior and gothic exterior helped Amber to present herself as a tough, independent woman. She was all those things, but deep inside, the real Amber was a pussycat.
Sweet and harmless.
The thud of approaching footsteps silenced them. Amber’s confidence retreated so quickly it took her breath.
Carol entered the room, wearing a smile that took up half of her face. She wore a festive sweater that depicted Santa Claus and Frosty the Snowman in an intense ski-off. Both looked attentive and pissed.
Her hair was fixed perfectly, pulled tightly behind her head with a band to keep it from drooping in her eyes. She waved the digital camera clutched in her pudgy hands.
“I was beginning to think I wasn’t ever going to find this darn camera. I looked and looked, and of course it was in the last place I checked.”
She stopped just short of Sam and began wriggling her thumbs over the many buttons on the camera.
As if she sensed something was amiss, Carol raised her head like a deer hearing a hunter’s approach in the woods. Her eyes focused on the tree. A horrified look formed on her chubby face. She gasped. Raising a shaking finger, she pointed to the tree.
Amber cleared her throat, asked, “What?”
“How could you?” Carol asked, her eyes swelling and voice shaking.
“Busted.” Sam said behind a snicker.
Amber shot her a look that Sam understood easily. It said: Don’t you dare make this worse. Her teeth clenched as she soundlessly snapped words at Sam. She couldn’t make them all out, but gathered enough to understand she’d just told her to shut the hell up.
“You hung your ornament without me,” Carol stated. She looked as if Amber had committed the ultimate act of betrayal.
Amber fumbled for words. “Wha…no…well…see…”
Tears flooded Carol’s reddening eyes.
“Amber, you know every year I take a picture of you and David hanging your ornaments for the photo albums.” Her voice started to tremble. She sniffed, wiped a tear with her sleeve.
Amber grieved inside for having to hear this story again more than for her mother’s hurt feelings.
Carol continued without missing a beat while Amber recited the words in her mind. “We didn’t have much money then, and I could only afford a couple of meager presents. But, I bought the ornaments because I knew it would be something we could revisit every year as the two of you grew up. And it wounds me deep to think you would try to TAKE—THIS—FROM—ME…” She made sure to enunciate every syllable toward the end.
Quickly cutting her off, Amber lied. “No, I just hung it there so it would be out of the way.”
Carol’s breathing slightly calmed as she listened.
“I was waiting for you to come back and help me find somewhere to hang it. That spot is only temporary.”
Not bad for being whipped up on the spot. Sam was impressed. She watched, her mouth hanging open.
A pleasant smile shaped across Carol’s face. “So, you didn’t just hang it there out of spite?”
“Of course not. I’d be a real bitch to go and so something like that.”
“Amber, watch your language. Even if it is true.”
“I was thinking of hanging it over here,” said Amber, taking the ornament and moving it a bit lower.
Carol backhanded what remaining tears she had out of her eyes and examined the spot firmly. Her face wrinkled as if she’d just caught a whiff of a terrible fart. “There?” she asked.
Amber quickly pointed to another spot. “Here?”
Carol nodded with acclaim. “Much better. Doesn’t it just scream home?” She pressed a finger to her lips and exhaled a deep breath. Taking her finger away, she added, “Now, if I can just figure out how to get this camera working, I’ll get a picture of you hanging it up.”
“Of course,” said Amber. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She smiled a pretend smile, rolling her eyes to Sam, who seemed genuinely amused by the whole debacle. Seeing Sam finding great enjoyment in her misery ignited a burning deep inside of Amber. She began to sweat.
Carol continued wiggling her fingers around the camera as if it were alien technology. Sam knew it might as well be. Carol had never been one for technological advancement. The digital thermometer on the stove confused her. She once had to have David drive over to show her how to work the coffee pot’s automatic timer. And programming shows on her DVR? That was a nightmare all of its own.
She raised the camera to her eye and pressed the button. The flash didn’t pop. There wasn’t even the audible click of a picture being taken. Carol looked at the LCD monitor on the back of the camera, her face wrinkling with confusion at the blank screen. She said, “I thought I turned it on. Maybe not. I’ll get this darn thing figured out if it kills me!”
Detecting the frustration in Carol’s voice, Sam said, “I can take the picture for you.” She stood, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans.
“Oh, Sam, that would be wonderful. I’ve only owned this blasted thing for a couple of months and still don’t quite understand it. I guess I’m just technology stupid.”
Amber snorted at the remark.
Sam, placing a hand on Carol’s beefy shoulder, said, “No you’re not. This technology is just Carol stupid.”
Hearing Sam say that, and seeing the genuine, polite smile, was clearly relaxing to Carol.
“Thanks, dear. I’m glad I have you here to help. I’d never be able to get this picture of Amber without you.”
“Here’s an idea,” said Sam, taking the camera. “Why don’t you go over there with her? I’ll get a picture of both of you.”
Amber scowled.
Carol’s eyes gleamed. Her hands raised high, she clapped animatedly. As she hopped in place, her chubby frame caused some of the figurines to topple over. She didn’t notice, or seem to care. “That’s a wonderful idea, Sam! I mean, as long as Amber doesn’t mind.”
If it meant this would all soon be over then Sam would bet Amber was all for it. She was ready to eat, drink a little, see David, and drink a little more. She knew it’d been two months since Amber had seen her brother, and almost three weeks since they’d spoken.
Amber waved her hand, signaling for her mother to join her at the tree.
“Of course I don’t mind. Now, get over here, Mama.”
She bolted at Amber in child-like excitement that lightly shook the room as her round feet pummeled the floor. Her breathing was much heavier. “You haven’t called me that in a very long time.”
Amber put on another artificial smile. “It’s a special occasion, right?”
Standing on the other side of the tree, Carol clapped her hands again. “Now be sure to get us both in the picture.”
Sam turned the camera on and said, “Don’t worry, I will.” Raising it in the air, she found them on the screen and framed the shot. Amber on the left, Carol on the right, and the tree dead center.
“The tree,” said Carol. “Make sure you center it. I want us evenly on each side.”
“I’ve got it taken care of,” she said, holding down the button to focus. A green square highlighted the tree at the center. The camera beeped, ready to shoot. “All right, you’re all framed up.”
“Yay,” said Carol. She stretched her smile even wider. Through clenched teeth, she said, “Make sure I’m not blinking. I’ve been known to do that.”
“Just smile, Mom,” said Amber. “I think Sam can handle it. And if you are blinking, we can always delete it and do over.”
“Really?” asked Carol, amaz
ed, as if she had no idea these cameras could do such things.
“All right, you two,” said Sam, ready to go. “Smile and say, Happy Holidays.”
“No,” objected Carol, “let’s say Merry Christmas.”
Amber rolled her eyes.
Then she forced a smile so perfect, one would think that Amber was having the best time. In reality, she’d perfected faking it. It was a true gift that she and David shared. Sam had seen it used by them often when it came to Carol.
“You’ve always had the most lovely smile, sweetie,” Carol said, nearly in tears again.
Works everytime, thought Sam.
“Thanks, Mom, now look at the camera, not me. But keep that smile going.”
“Oh, right.” Carol whipped her head to the front, facing Sam.
“All right,” said Sam. “Here we go for the glory.” Closing one eye like looking through the scope on a rifle, she kept the camera centered, and snapped the shot as mother and daughter said, “Merry Christmas!”
“Wonderful,” said Sam.
“Is it really?” asked Carol, sounding doubtful.
“It’s perfect.”
“Take one more. For safety.”
“All right, back to your marks.”
The two returned to their poses. Carol smiled broadly. Amber assembled another smile even more gorgeous than the first.
They repeated the expression as Sam took another picture. She observed the final product and was pleased. Better than the first. “Another great one for the photo album.”
If Sam’s family had photo albums, there would never be pictures as wholesome as the one she just took of Carol and Amber in there. Even if Amber was being snarky, it was evident she loved her mother and didn’t mind this whole routine as much as she let on. Sam was truly envious of that. And guilty that she felt that way.
“I bet it is,” said a male voice, catching them all by surprise.
A nervous surge fluttered from Sam’s stomach and into her throat.
David.
Chapter Four
How had he snuck in without anyone hearing him? Well, he grew up in that house, and must know all the ways in and out without being noticed. Sneaky.
Sam realized it was too late to wonder any of that now. He was here. Him. She knew that voice well. She loved that voice.
Missed that voice.
Carol and Amber looked to the side door, faces widening with contentment. It was evident from their expressions they were mother and daughter—the way their eyes squinted, and their mouths arched up as if to touch their lashes and say hello. A blush of red shone on their cheeks.
Sam followed their line of sight to David. He leaned against the door, hair styled to perfection, and dressed for the event. A buttoned shirt, hanging open in a V at his chest, and a white T-shirt underneath. His pants were dark, tighter than what he’d normally wear.
Sam exhaled a quivery breath. David looked healthier. He seemed happier, though Sam could still detect a cloud of gloom hovering around him. He wasn’t better, but had been working on it, and was getting there. She eyed his left wrist. It was wrapped in an Ace bandage to hide the scar.
“David? How long have you been standing there?” asked Carol.
“Since before the first picture,” he confessed. “I just sat back and watched while you gave Amber and Sam a hard time.”
Blushing, Carol asked, “And you couldn’t announce yourself?”
“Nope. It was too much fun.”
Amber butted in. “You just left me hanging?”
“Well, Mom has been saying for years that she doesn’t have enough pictures of the two of you together. It would have been rude of me to interrupt.”
“This is a family affair, David. Fam-i-ly. Not just the sister and mother while the brother watches from the sidelines.”
David laughed, said, “Yeah…” Then he turned his gaze to Sam and fell silent.
Sam anxiously rubbed her fingers across the camera to avoid gawking at him. The temptation to look was unbearable. Unable to resist another moment, she needed to have another look. He looked so handsome. It excited her knowing David had been spying on her. Not really spying. She knew that, but still, she was curious as to what he’d been thinking.
Was he feeling the same nervous stimulation she was?
She caught his eyes exploring her and froze. Trapped under his gaze, she couldn’t move. He was the headlights, and she was the lost deer on the highway.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” she said back, in a trance.
“You look great.”
The meeting forced a lump in her throat. Clearing it, Sam said, “Thank you. So do you, by the way. You look wonderful.” She quickly looked away, her own words nauseating her.
Wonderful? What am I? Eleven?
Face flushed with red, David rubbed a hand through his wavy, gelled hair. The way he was acting, Sam could tell he wanted a cigarette. Saying he looked wonderful must have had some kind of effect on him. He was sweating.
And it wasn’t that stuffy in here.
They fell into each other’s eyes again. Both wanted to say so much, but neither risked ruining the mood by attempting it.
Carol clapped her hands, breaking the invisible line going from Sam’s pupils to his. “All right, now I can get a picture of you two together in front of the tree.”
“Mom,” said David, an obvious whine in his voice.
“Don’t give me that. Get over here, now.”
Sam quickly reminded her, “But you don’t know how to work the camera.” It wasn’t that she minded getting a picture with David. She was nervous and shaky. She didn’t want David noticing how scared she was.
She hoped she’d remembered to put on deodorant. She had a pool of perspiration under her arms. If she started to stink, she knew she would just die right there.
“I know how to work the camera,” Amber said, flashing a baleful grin at Sam. The tides had turned, and now she could do the torturing. Sam had had her fun, now Amber could play. Her face glowed with vengeance.
Oh that bitch, thought Sam.
Carol patted Amber on the shoulder. “If there’s a will, there’s a way. Now get over here, you two. I’m done discussing it.”
“We better do what she says,” said David.
“I know,” said Sam. “I don’t want to see what’ll happen if we don’t.”
“Trust me, that’s the last thing you’d want to see.”
David led Sam to the tree.
Amber took the camera from Sam in passing and joined Carol a few feet away. She glanced at her mother. “What do you think, Mom? Take a bunch of pictures? We can never have too many.” She turned back to them, grinning wickedly.
“Amber,” said David.
“That’s a good idea,” added Carol. “We should at least get a few. Put them in the holiday album.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Amber raised the camera and viewed them on the screen on the back. “All right, you two. Say, Merry Christmas.”
Chapter Five
After what felt like hours of poses, expressions, and phrases, the picture process was finally complete. They ate a savory meal of baked ham, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes and green beans, with cake and cookies for dessert. They’d kept themselves occupied with meaningless conversation, all evidently wondering about David’s health, but no one daring to bring it up.
When they’d finished eating, they retreated to the living room to exchange gifts. Carol took the honors of passing them to the designated owners. All of them received more from her than they’d given, and felt horrible about it. But Carol being Carol wouldn’t let them think twice about it. She put them at ease about their guilt with a sway of her hand.
Unwrapping the presents took no time at all.
Now, on all fours under the tree, Carol dug for the final gift. Searching through mountains of shredded wrapping paper, she said, “I know its back
here somewhere. It’s not a small object either. I shouldn’t be having this much trouble… Just bear with me.”
Amber sat in the recliner with a beer in her hand—the final bottle in the six-pack—her leg draped over the arm. If she’d been wearing a skirt, there would have been nothing left to the imagination.
She studied Sam. The way she’d been acting around David, right by his side all night like a shadow. It hadn’t bothered her at first, but as the beer supply dwindled, so did her patience. Sam was like an eager puppy begging for her master’s attention. Never giving him a moment alone, and being a wedge that was keeping him from Amber. Each time she’d tried talking with her brother, Sam was there to interrupt. Amber could have these conversations with Sam around, but what she had to say was none of her business.
It’s not like I’m gonna tell him the PIN number to my checking account, she realized, but still, she didn’t want Sam’s nose in her business.
David sat in another recliner across the room. He’d offered it to Sam, but she had declined. He sat down reluctantly while Sam parked herself on the floor by his feet.
She is like a little dog, thought Amber.
When David would speak to Sam, she made sure to keep one hand delicately on his knee, and her eyes round as if he spoke the gospel. This angered Amber even more. She lifted the bottle to her lips for a swallow, but only got a dab. She held the bottle to her eye, squinting to look inside.
Empty.
Damn.
She stood up to discard the bottle and explore the fridge for more, but the room began to tilt. The floor felt as if it was twisting this way and that under her feet. Losing her balance, she dropped back into the chair.
Luckily, no one had noticed her failed attempt at balance. Thank God. The last thing Amber wanted was for David to know she was a bit tipsy. A bit? He’d often lectured her about her drinking. When he’d bring it up, she’d counteroffer with an arrangement. She’d quit drinking when he quit smoking.
What’s fair is fair, she’d say.
At one time, they’d shaken hands on the deal. But David had been quick to relapse, claiming that trying to quit smoking was the hardest thing he’d ever attempted. Amber reminded him that statistics say quitting cigarettes was harder than quitting heroin. With David throwing in the towel, she picked up the bottle again. Just like that. After a week without a drink, one night of quaking withdrawal, she not only jumped, but soared off the wagon with no real reason as to why.
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