This Christmas

by Jane Green

  During the car ride, I let vent all my worries. “Riding cross-country on a motor scooter? In December? How could someone who’s been to med school be so idiotic?”

  “It sounds adventurous…if a little harebrained.”

  “A little!” I drove a few blocks (Jason had let me at the wheel, since this was an impromptu trip and I knew the territory), then pulled out my cell phone. I tried dialing Maddie’s cell phone number. Of course there was no answer. She probably wouldn’t have been able to hear the ring through the icy wind in her hair.

  From Maddie, I moved on to other fears—like whatever might be happening at home. Seeing Ted in his current condition still gave me a shock. He was always such a brick! The ultimate big brother. And what was going on with my parents?

  How was I supposed to seduce my boyfriend with family holiday magic when everything had turned so sour?

  “Not one single snow village scene has been put out,” I said. “That’s got to mean something.”

  “What would it mean?”

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have the slightest idea. “She always puts the villages out. They’re her pride and joy. Especially the Alpine village. She’s spent years trolling eBay to get all the right pieces for it. And you’d think she would have tried to make the place cheery for Ted’s sake, at least.”

  “Ted looked like he was beyond the reach of miniature housing displays.”

  I heard the cheery “Deck the Halls” ring of my cell phone and picked it up again. Maybe this would be Maddie.

  “How’s it going?”

  It was Isaac. I bit my lip with disappointment, yet there was something comforting about the sound of his voice. My lifeline. “Disaster. Melinda left Ted and now he’s rattling around the house like Foster Brooks, and my sister is riding a Vespa home from Massachusetts, and my parents are bickering and seem to have forgotten that there’s a holiday going on at all. The house is bare. Bare.”

  Isaac seemed really disturbed by that last bit. “The house isn’t treed?”

  “It’s treed,” I allowed, “but only artificially.”

  He clucked in a way that was very reassuring to me. I wasn’t going crazy. This was weird. “Is your Mom okay?”

  “As far as I know. She and my dad are just being really cranky.”

  “I’ve never seen them cranky at all.”

  “That’s because you’re company.”

  “Exactly. And you’ve got company now.”

  “Who?”

  “Jason.”

  Oh, right. It wasn’t that I had forgotten him, but it was hard to think of someone as company after they had bought your parents groceries. You tended to start thinking of people like that as members of the family. Or social workers.

  “Are you coming over tonight?” I asked Isaac.

  “Are you having dinner?”

  I thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  I took the ensuing silence for a no.

  Then, out of the blue, he asked, “Holly, what do know about this Jason guy?”

  I cut a glance at Jason, who was studiously not paying attention to my conversation. “Why?” I asked nonchalantly. “What do you mean?”

  “A month?” he asked. “And no sex?”

  “That’s not that weird.” Were we such a degenerate, sex-crazed society that waiting a month seemed odd now?

  Though, of course it had been driving me crazy.

  “Not that I mind,” he said. “In fact I’m glad.”

  “Why should you be glad?” Celibacy loves company?

  He sighed. “Think of it. Is this person for you? What kind of guy can’t think of one thing he ever wanted and didn’t get?”

  Now I started to get mad, even though the very same thought had crossed my mind. Or maybe because of that. I felt disloyal even having this conversation, especially with Jason right there. “What’s your point?”

  “I think this guy has some kind of saint complex. He’s just too perfect.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say!” I said.

  “Don’t have a cow,” he said, chuckling. “I just thought I should mention it. As a friend.”

  As a demon. He was obviously trying to rattle me, though I had no idea why. “I’ve got to go.” Otherwise we would have a wreck.

  “Okay. Say ‘hi’ to Mr. Perfect for me.” He signed off with a laugh.

  “Pest,” I muttered, gunning through a yellow light.

  We drove in silence for a moment.

  “Maybe we should have invited him along,” Jason said.

  I practically howled. “Over my dead body! Honestly, he acts as if my life is the staging ground for all his moods and antics. And I’ve about had it with his incessant needling.”

  After a few moments I flicked my gaze over and noticed Jason staring at me as if I were some kind of monster.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I was talking about Ted.”

  “Oh!” No wonder he was regarding me as if I had just grown a second head. “I thought you meant Isaac. That was Isaac on the phone.”

  He nodded. “Maybe it would have done Ted some good to get out of the house and be with people.”

  Wasn’t that sweet of him? Always thinking about other people. Even people who locked themselves in their rooms when he came for a visit.

  We went to the National Gallery, but we didn’t really look at many paintings. It was early evening, but because of the holidays there was a rushed, closing-time atmosphere in the place. All the employees looked ready to abandon their framed charges and hit the malls to finish their shopping.

  Jason and I just wandered around a few rooms, then headed for a coffee shop.

  I was still in a bit of a funk. After lingering over two cups, Jason gave me a nudge. “Why is it I get the feeling that you don’t want to go home? Are you trying to hide me from your family?”

  “Try the other way around. I can’t believe you would want to go back there!”

  “What’s the matter?” He shrugged. “Your brother is having problems, so it’s understandable he’s upset. It’s an awful time of year to go through the kind of trouble he’s having.”

  I frowned. “I know…but even my mom and dad…”

  “They’re great!” Jason said.

  “They weren’t at their best, believe me.”

  “But I liked it that they weren’t hovering when we arrived.”

  They not only weren’t hovering; they had forgotten we were coming.

  “And the house looks great. I like old houses. So the tree is artificial. And smallish. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.” His Kenneth Coles gave me a gentle kick beneath the table. “You’re spoiled, you know that?”

  Maybe I was. He seemed so glad to be in the bosom of my messed-up family, it made me a little ashamed. All I could see was that the one year I was really primed for holiday cheer, no one else was cooperating. “Maybe when we get home, things will have improved.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Jason said, coaxing me along. “Why don’t we take your folks out to dinner? Your mom will probably be so busy these next few days, it would be great to give her a treat.”

  That was Jason all over. Looking at his handsome face, feeling all that optimism radiating from him, I felt humbled, as if someone had poured the soul of all the good men of the world into Brad Pitt’s body and handed the result to undeserving me for Christmas. He was perfect.

  Recalling what Isaac had said, I was perturbed. Then defiant. What was wrong with perfect?

  We went home, and while Jason went up to the spare room to change for dinner, I found my mom sitting in the living room with her feet propped up on an ottoman. She had Walkman headphones clapped on her ears and hadn’t heard us come in.

  “Mom?”

  She jumped as if I had jolted her out of a deep sleep. “Oh, hi!”

  “What are you doing?” What I really meant was, Don’t you have some walnut people to attend to?

  “I’m listening t
o Crime and Punishment. They had an unabridged copy at the library.”

  That would explain the plastic box the size of a small suitcase sitting on the floor next to her. It even came equipped with a handle.

  “Mom, what’s going on? It seems really weird to be in the house and not see any of the old decorations. What happened to your snow villages, and all the other stuff?”

  “Those villages are such a lot of work to arrange! I just didn’t have the stamina this year.”

  “Well, but…” She obviously had some stamina, or she wouldn’t be listening to a reading of Dostoevsky.

  “Is this really the time to be sitting around listening to depressing Russian novels?”

  “Well, you weren’t here and Ted’s still in his room….” She shook her head. “And it’s not really depressing at all! I’m surprised. It’s sort of like a suspense story, really. I don’t know why they gave it that dreary name—they should have called it…well, I don’t know….” She tilted her head and thought for a moment. “It’s got that great murder scene. Maybe something with fear in the title. Sudden Fear. Or how about Landlady Beware?”

  “You haven’t mentioned Jason,” I said, changing the subject.

  She blinked at me. “What should I say about him?”

  I plunked myself down on the ottoman. “Well, what do you think? Were you surprised?”

  “Yes, I was.” She thought for a moment. “He doesn’t seem your type.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I said. “Of course he’s better looking than anyone I’ve gone out with.” To me he seemed better looking than anyone, period.

  Mom smiled wistfully. “I always liked Isaac.”

  “Isaac?” I bit my lip. I was still miffed with him.

  “Did he drive down with you, too?”

  “Well, yeah, but…”

  “That’s good. Don’t forget to invite him to dinner tomorrow. He’s always such a lot of fun!”

  I wanted to tear my hair out. I had brought home Jason—Adonis—and all she could talk about was Isaac?

  “Speaking of dinner,” I said, “Jason wanted to take you and Dad out tonight.”

  “Your father and I already had dinner.”

  “Already? It’s only—” I looked at my watch. It was 7:00 P.M. I should have remembered that my parents usually ate at six on the dot.

  Mom shrugged. “You were gone, and there was all that food…”

  “We can put something together here,” Jason piped up behind me.

  I jumped up. How long had he been standing there? I hope not long enough to hear my mother stating her preference for Isaac!

  My dad came in. “Do they want to go out again? They just got here!”

  “We were thinking of taking you out to dinner,” I said.

  “Oh!” My dad brightened. “That sounds great.”

  “Laird, you just ate,” Mom reminded him.

  “I don’t mind going along for company,” my dad said. “Maybe have some coffee…”

  “Terrific,” Jason answered.

  Dad gave me a fatherly nudge but directed his next comment to Jason. “Maybe you can help me convince Holly here to look beyond teaching English to seventh graders. She could go to graduate school and at least teach in a college, or go to law school.”

  “Dad…” Just because I didn’t want to get a Ph.D., he acted as if I were a beach bum. I could never convince him that I liked teaching English to seventh graders. I was even good at it.

  “It’s never too late to become what you might have been,’” he lectured.

  By the time he brought out that old saw, we were usually reduced to scolding on his part and eye rolling on mine. It had been the same since I was a teenager. I wasn’t trying hard enough. I didn’t apply myself to the subjects that matter, or have the right kind of ambition. Look at Maddie, he’d say.

  “You all have fun,” my mother chirped. “I think I’ll stay and get a little farther along in my book.”

  I could see why. Crime and Punishment was looking like a nice alternative to family togetherness to me now, too.

  At that point, Jason was practically dragging me along. We passed underneath the archway where the mistletoe usually hung. I turned. “Mom, what happened to the mistletoe?”

  “Mistletoe?” She looked confused for a moment. As if she had never even heard of the stuff. “Oh! I couldn’t find any. There’s a shortage this year—a fungus killed it all.”

  I groaned as I was tugged away. Wouldn’t you know it? For twenty-seven years there had been mistletoe dangling in that spot, as useless to me in my coupleless state as a screen door on a submarine. But the one year I really needed it? Mistletoe blight!

  Chapter Four

  During dinner I started to get the jitters. All the time I was sawing through a chicken breast and picking at my mashed potatoes, I kept thinking, This could be the night. I could barely keep my mind on the conversation—something about the New York draft riots during the Civil War—for wondering what would happen when Jason and I got back home. Should I find some way to entice him to my room, or should I change into something slinky and tiptoe over to his?

  At one point, Jason had reached over to squeeze my knee under the table, causing me to sploop coffee all over my crème brûlée.

  When we got home, Dad announced he was trundling off to bed right away. In the living room, Ted was sitting cross-legged on the couch with our old crocheted granny-square afghan around his shoulders. He was staring at the Quality Value Channel. I was relieved to see him out of his room, even if he did appear to have tear marks on his cheeks.

  “It’s Melinda’s favorite channel.” His voice rasped with an odd blend of nostalgia and bitterness. “She always watches it before bed. She’s probably watching it now.”

  I crossed over and sank onto the couch next to him. “Ted, don’t you think you should get some sleep?”

  He burrowed deeper inside his afghan. “I’m not tired. Besides, I want to see what kind of quality and value Melinda gets off this thing.”

  “Uh, Ted…”

  “She’s always wasting money. She thinks I’m Donald Trump!”

  I patted him on the knee and got up, returning to Jason. “I guess he needs to be alone.”

  I tried to think of where I could take Jason now. (Besides away from my bipolar brother.) If there had been a sprig of mistletoe around, I would have yanked him under it. But, of course, there wasn’t. “Feel like a glass of wine?” I asked him.

  He shook his head. “I guess I could use a glass of water to take up to my room, though.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  We went to the kitchen, and I told him again how much Dad had seemed to like him.

  “He’s a very interesting man,” Jason said.

  I nodded. “I guess he’s getting a little older—maybe not feeling as spry as he was. That would explain the lack of outside holiday decor.”

  Jason looked thoughtful. “I understand why you were bummed out this afternoon. When we were driving to the restaurant, all the houses with the lights…”

  Oh, God. He was let down. He had been trying to hide it all afternoon, just to buoy my spirits, but now the disappointment was spilling out.

  Maybe I could scrounge up some lights and string them up tonight. At least around the doorway.

  “Not that it’s any big deal,” Jason assured me. “It’s so great to be here with your family for Christmas.”

  I poured him a glass of water.

  “Of course, it’s not exactly how you described it….”

  I leapt in quickly. “I’m hoping things will be back to normal tomorrow. And maybe when Maddie gets here…if she gets here…”

  Maddie had a true holiday steamroller personality.

  He nodded. “I know. And tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. We’ll have fun.”

  I handed him his water. Tomorrow? Couldn’t we have fun tonight?

  “Well”—he smiled down at me—“good night.”

  “Good night,” I
said.

  He leaned down and gave me a peck on the lips, but it felt like a perfunctory gesture. Or was I just being paranoid?

  When he left, I stood for a moment in the kitchen, crushed by my own cowardice…or Jason’s reticence. What had happened to all my seduction plans? We only had three nights. One seemed to have slipped away from me already.

  But what did I expect? I had hyped this trip as a sort of family Christmas Disneyland, and the result had turned out to be something entirely different. Dismalland, maybe. If Jason’s ardor was attached to some kind of Christmas barometer, between now and tomorrow I really needed to get some work injecting some holiday fun into this house.

  I went out to the living room again. Ted was still staring at the television screen, where a doll that looked like it was dressed as Martha Washington was twirling slowly on a plastic stand.

  “Ted, where do Mom and Dad keep the Christmas lights?”

  He had broken out the whiskey bottle again and took a slug. “Attic,” he said.

  I suppressed a groan. The attic was always a wreck—things got flung up there and forgotten, and then when you went looking for them, they always seemed to be covered in plaster dust and desiccated bug carcasses. The place gave me the crawlies.

  The people on the television were exclaiming about how lifelike the doll’s eyes were. “She just seems to be looking at you and saying, ‘I want to be your best friend!’”

  I didn’t see it, myself, but Ted sniffled. “I should get one for Amanda.”

  “I’m sure she’d love it, Ted, but maybe you shouldn’t buy things just now….”

  He shook his head. “Why not? I’m not the one with the trouble managing money in my family.”

  I left him punching the 800 number into his cell phone and went upstairs, then up the little closet staircase to the attic. I braced myself for the worst, but when I pulled the chain on the overhead light, an entirely different attic was revealed to me from the one I had previously known. This one was swept and tidy. I didn’t see a dead bug anywhere, or hear the scurrying of little critter feet. Instead of piles of junk everywhere, there were stacks of white boxes of different shapes piled neatly together, all labeled with a black marker. Dishes. HALLOWEEN. Tax Documents. One marked Goodwill wasn’t closed up very well, and I went to investigate.