Christmas at Saddle Creek

by Shelley Peterson

  Eva took a breath as if to speak. Bird looked at her expectantly. Then Eva shook her head and cast her eyes down.

  Stuart spoke softly, with a kind smile. “Thank you, Bird. Your apology is accepted.” He patted Eva’s hand. “By all of us. It takes a big person to say they’re sorry.”

  “I thought you looked lovely, dear,” added Mrs. Pierson.

  Cliff shrugged and said, “I still have no idea what happened, Bird, but I thought you were funny.”

  “Me, too!” agreed Julia. Her grin disappeared when she saw that everyone else looked serious.

  Hannah trilled, “Here’s the gravy, and I’m sitting down! Julia, you, too! Now, let’s hold hands and say grace.”

  Suddenly, the lights went out. The room was thrown into complete darkness. A collective sigh was released, almost like it was all right to relax, and nobody needed to pretend that things were normal as long as it was dark. Like a play at the theatre, Bird thought. And they were all actors.

  There was a knock on the door. Lucky began to bark.

  Hannah lit one candle, paused, and when nobody moved said, “Bird, can you get the door, please?”

  “Sure.” She jumped up and ran to the front hall. When she opened the door, there was no one there. Lucky stopped barking.

  He ran outside with his tail wagging. Good person, good person!

  Who is it, Lucky?

  Friend not foe! Friend not foe!

  “Hello?” Bird called.

  Cody slipped out the door like a shadow under Bird’s feet.

  Cody? Where are you going?

  Out. There is a strange and unknowable energy in the house.

  True. But are you feeling well enough?

  Much better. Call on me if there is danger.

  I will. And come back if you want.

  The small coyote disappeared into the night as Bird stepped out on the porch and looked around. “Hello? Who’s there?”

  Suddenly, she was enveloped in Alec’s arms. He hugged her tightly and murmured in her ear, “I’m glad it was you who answered the door.”

  “Did you plan on grabbing whoever answered?” she teased.

  “Yes. Especially your Grandma Jean.”

  “She would’ve called the police.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Alec, we were going to talk about being just friends, remember?”

  “You said that, not me. I don’t agree one bit.”

  “But it’s weird, now. Isn’t it?”

  “No! And why? My father and your aunt can get married if they choose. We’re not even remotely related.”

  “You’re right, but …”

  “Do you think it’s weird, Bird?”

  “No. But other people might.”

  “When did you ever worry about what other people think? I’ve never heard you say that before!”

  “Let’s talk later. Let go of me before I start kissing you.”

  Alec kissed her right on the lips. Briefly, Bird resisted feebly, then gave in to the overwhelming attraction.

  Hannah called from the dining room. “Bird? Who’s there?”

  They jerked apart, giggling quietly. Bird called, “It’s Alec! Here for Christmas dinner.” She looked at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your mother?”

  “I was. We had Christmas lunch. The dishes are done so I came over.” He smiled warmly at her. “Do you mind?”

  “You know I don’t. It’s amazing to have you here. Christmas might be saved yet.”

  “That bad?”

  “You have no idea.”

  When they walked into the room, Bird was pleased to see how festive the room looked with the candles cheerfully twinkling on the table, and the lit Menorah on the sideboard.

  Paul put down the carving knife and embraced his son. “Alec! What a wonderful surprise. Please, grab a seat!”

  Hannah scurried in with a chair from the kitchen. “I’ll put you between Julia and me, Alec. How are the roads?”

  “Safe, if you take it slow,” he answered. “The fog is clearing, and most of the traffic lights are back on. I see you still don’t have hydro.”

  Julia said, “We had electricity until a minute ago, but it’s so romantic to have candles, and the food is cooked so we don’t really care, at least until the house gets cold and then we might not like it.” The girl’s chatter died down and then she smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Alec.”

  “Hey, Julia,” he said. “Me, too.”

  Jean peered at Alec. “Who is this boy?”

  “My son, Alec,” answered Paul. “I thought you’d met him before. Excuse me for not introducing you. Mrs. Bradley, please meet Alec Daniels.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Bradley,” said Alec with a smile. “We’ve met a few times, but always with a lot of people.”

  “Perhaps,” Jean sniffed. “Perhaps not.”

  “And you know everybody else, I think, Alec?” asked Paul.

  Alec looked around the table. “I sure do. Hello, Mrs. Pierson! Good to see you.”

  Mrs. Pierson took his hand, and her eyes twinkled at him. “You are a dear, dear boy.”

  “And Julia, of course. And Mr. and Mrs. Gilmour, hello.”

  Stuart said, “Welcome!” Eva smiled slightly and ­nodded.

  Cliff stood up. “Alec, buddy! Good to see you.”

  “Hey, Cliff! What’s happening?”

  “Well, actually, I just got a text from my son. He’s on his way with the whole family, and they’re ­bringing ­dinner. I better get home to tidy up. My place is a mess!”

  Hannah raised her hands. “Bring them over, Cliff! There’s lots to eat! We’d love to have them. The more, the merrier!”

  Bird saw her aunt’s desperation, and she felt badly that she’d started this whole thing with the red sheets. The party was falling apart.

  Cliff nodded a few times awkwardly before ­saying, “I think tonight it’s better we have our own little Christmas. But I appreciate the offer. Thanks.”

  Bird walked Cliff to the door. She whispered, “I don’t blame you. Are they really coming?”

  “They’re really coming. Highway 400 is open down to Highway 9, and Highway 10 is clear.”

  “Can I do night check? Please? I need an excuse to get out of here later.”

  He snorted. “Understood. That’d be good. Two flakes for all of them, except the ponies — one small flake only — and three for Sunny. He’s still tired from your rescue mission.”

  “Okay. I’ll give them a little Christmas treat. I made them.”

  “Sure. But not Josh. He’ll choke. And Simon can’t have sugar.”

  “I know. It’s not sugar, and I’ll make a treat soup for Josh.”

  “A small one. He’s on a special diet.”

  “Got it.”

  Cliff stepped outside. “If things get too crazy here, just call me. I can do night check, no problem.”

  “Too crazy is exactly why I need to do it.”

  Bird went back to the dining room and sat down. Alec was across the table from her. He winked, and she winked back.

  Jean noticed, and asked, “So who are you again, young man?”

  “I’m Paul’s son,” he enunciated slowly and clearly.

  “I’m not deaf. Why did you wink at Alberta?”

  Julia jumped in. “Because he has a crush on her!”

  “You’re Paul’s son? Tsk tsk. You’re almost family, boy. That’s not on.” Jean took another drink of wine. She repeated the two words forcefully. “Not … on.” She shook her head and pursed her lips.

  Alec looked shocked. His mouth opened but no words came out. He looked at Bird, who raised her eyebrows sympathetically and shrugged slightly. Grandma Jean had made her point for her, but this was no time to be proven right, Bird thought.
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br />   Silence descended on the table like an Arctic chill.

  Eva hadn’t said a word since she and her mother had collided earlier. Now she leaned forward. “Mother, that was odd, coming from you.”

  Jean’s head shot up, and her eyes focused on her younger daughter. “What on earth do you mean?”

  “You are very quick to judge family relationships.” Her voice had dropped to a small whisper. “What about ours?”

  Jean looked at Eva sideways. “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you remember when I was a child?”

  “Of course I do.” Jean’s response was dismissive, and with a quick roll of her eyes she indicated that it was a foolish question.

  Eva’s face contorted. The flickering candlelight gave her an otherworldly appearance. “Do you remember how Daddy tickled me and wouldn’t stop? And how he wanted me to have naps with him?”

  Bird snapped to attention. Tickling? Naps?

  Jean’s tone changed to slightly aggressive. “Yes. He was an affectionate father. At least to you.” Her precise diction inferred that the conversation was finished.

  Eva wasn’t put off. “I remember you called me that name — ‘a little tramp’ — when I was a small girl. I remember that. I remember things that happened a long time ago.”

  “What are you babbling about, Eva?” Jean was now on the defensive. She raised her voice. “You lived in a dream world with your Barbie dolls, Eva. Play acting. Making things up. Silly things.”

  “Was I, Mom? Making things up?” Eva breathed deeply. When she exhaled, her breath was ragged. “Is that why you never believed me?”

  “You loved playing with your father!” Jean exclaimed with indignation. “You ran to him to be cuddled. And all that ‘sugar pie’ stuff! It made me gag.”

  Nobody spoke. Bird realized that she’d stopped breathing. Many times she’d heard her grandfather call Eva ‘sugar pie,’ and Hannah ‘lemon pie.’ She looked at Aunt Hannah’s stricken face. She appeared to be frozen.

  “And what has this got to do with that boy?” demanded Jean, pointing at Alec. “You changed the subject entirely. He should not be dating Bird. It’s almost incest!”

  “Really?” Eva whispered. Her volume was low, but Bird felt her electric intensity. “Do you remember when I was about five, Mom? Hannah was maybe seven. Daddy came home from the company Christmas party and wanted me to take a nap with him. Do you remember?”

  “Eva, surely you don’t expect me to remember every detail of your childhood.” Jean impatiently drained her glass. She nudged Stuart, who added an inch of wine.

  “No, I don’t. And I don’t remember every detail, either,” said Eva. “But I remember this like it was yesterday. He told me that his best Christmas present ever was for me to have a nap with him.”

  Jean was ignoring her. She motioned Stuart to keep pouring. Stuart pretended not to notice.

  “Are you listening, Mom?”

  “No. I’m busy being properly attended.” Jean seized the bottle from Stuart and poured until her glass was full to the brim.

  Eva watched her mother set the empty bottle down with a thud and then said, “I need your attention, Mom. Now.”

  Nobody moved a muscle. Bird noticed how her Grandma Jean’s mouth clamped shut and her lips pressed together.

  Eva continued. “He came home reeking of alcohol. I hated that smell.”

  Jean made a harrumphing noise. “Well, not any longer!”

  Nobody laughed at her joke. Eva continued. “Hannah and I were having supper in the kitchen. Macaroni and cheese with ketchup.”

  With agitation, Jean asked, “Is this the proper place, Eva?” Her voice had become shrill.

  Eva trembled visibly and softly cleared her throat.

  Bird was mesmerized by the anguish on her mother’s face in the light of the candles. Her stomach knotted. She didn’t want to hear what her mother was about to say. Bird wanted to run but found she’d lost the use of her limbs.

  Eva answered hoarsely. “I don’t know, Mom. What is the proper place? Not when I was little. I tried. As far as I know, there is no proper place to ask your mother if she knew her husband was abusing their child.”

  Jean fell off her chair sideways, onto the floor. It happened so quickly that nobody could react in time to catch her.

  The overhead lights fluttered and then shone brightly, blinding everyone. Their eyes had become adjusted to the dim candlelight, and it took a moment for people to get their bearings.

  Paul was the closest to Jean, and he knelt to check her air passage, to be sure it was clear, then reached for a glass of water. He splashed a little water on her face, and held the glass to her lips. She took a sip.

  “She’ll be fine, folks,” he said. He pulled the seat cushion off his chair and tucked it under Jean’s head as she lay on the floor.

  Bird still couldn’t move. It was as if her body had no muscle and was made of stone. She had sensed her mother’s pain all her life, and she had always known that something was drastically amiss between her mother and her grandfather. But why, Bird wondered, had she never put the two together?

  Maybe she never wanted to believe it. She would examine this more closely when she was able to think. Right now, her mind was on autopilot as she recollected her mother’s baby voice when men were around, the girlish clothes with bows and frills, and how Eva demanded male attention in every possible way.

  Hannah plopped into her chair, bringing Bird out of her thoughts. She observed the emotions as they crossed her aunt’s face. Shock, concern, disbelief, then acceptance.

  “Oh my God, Eva.” Hannah spoke slowly and quietly. “I didn’t know what was wrong, but I knew something was wrong.”

  “I didn’t understand myself.” Eva looked sadly at her sister. “I still don’t, really.”

  Stuart held Eva’s hand in support, and he leaned across the corner of the table to place his other hand on Hannah’s.

  Laura Pierson, with her ankle raised on a stool, spoke clearly. “It might not seem so now, but this is very good. Truth will set you free.” She spoke with conviction and intensity. “Listen, everyone. Listen to an old woman. Truth must be handled with love, and most especially, kindness. If not, everything that you’ve ever had as a family will corrode and be destroyed. I’ve seen it happen.”

  Mrs. Pierson’s stark warning reverberated around the room. Bird tried to process the wisdom. She repeated it in her head. Truth must be handled with love and kindness or it will destroy everything. She needed to write it down before she forgot.

  The dinner sat untouched. The festive china and the good cutlery and the seasonal serving dishes and Hannah’s finest tablecloth and napkins mocked them. The Santa and Mrs. Claus salt and pepper shakers looked almost sinister in the glaring light of this revelation.

  Paul helped Jean back into her chair. To Bird, it seemed like her grandmother had aged ten years, and she’d looked quite old before.

  Jean licked her dry lips. “Eva. I never saw anything untoward.” Her face was pale. Her right hand had a tremor.

  “Did … you know?” Eva’s eyes beseeched her mother. Bird was sure that Eva needed to hear the truth.

  Jean paused. “I didn’t want to know.”

  Bingo, Bird thought. The simple truth.

  Eva sat back. Her head dropped and muffled sobs emanated from deep in her throat.

  “Wait. Eva.” Jean tried to rise from her chair but sat back down. “I didn’t mean it like it came out.” Her face shook and her hands raised, palms up. “I meant that I didn’t want anything like that to be happening. If anything like that had been going on, I would not have tolerated it.” Jean looked around the table for support. She almost pleaded, “I couldn’t accuse him without proof, now, could I?”

  Eva looked up. Her eyes glistened with tears and even forgiveness, Bird thought.
She whispered, “No. You couldn’t. Thank you, Mom,” and made a feeble attempt at a smile.

  So much pain filled the room that again Bird yearned to flee. She thought of Cody’s words as he slipped out the front door. There is a strange and unknowable energy in the house. She willed herself to stay and wondered how she could help.

  Grandma Jean could hardly breathe, and Eva looked destroyed. Bird had the sense that a hug might do wonders right now. But Eva never hugged Bird, and Jean never hugged at all. So she quietly leaned over to her grandmother and kissed her cheek. Jean sniffed and turned her head away, but then relented. “Thank you, Bird,” she whispered.

  Bird then stood and moved to Eva’s side. “Mom, I love you.”

  Eva’s eyes overflowed. She croaked, “I love you, too.” Rarely had Bird heard those words from her mother. And they sounded true.

  “I’ve caused a scene. I need to go home,” Jean mumbled meekly. She stood up and stumbled, then caught herself and stood straight with her shoulders back. Now she spoke loudly, with her usual command. “Paul? Do you mind?”

  “Not at all!” he said. “Hannah? Can you get your mother’s coat and bag? I’ll heat up the truck and bring it to the front.”

  “Of course,” answered Hannah. “Please, everyone, please help yourself. Everything’s cold, nothing is as planned, but you should not go hungry.” She rushed to organize her mother’s departure, glad, Bird thought, to have something positive to do.

  Stuart took Eva’s elbow and helped her stand. Together, they retired to a quiet spot in the living room to have some time alone.

  The only one left at the table was Mrs. Pierson, sitting quietly with her swollen foot still up on the stool. Bird sat beside her. Alec sat down, too, and took Bird’s hand in his. Julia joined them after changing into her jeans and a lively Christmas sweater covered in snowmen.

  “Well, now. It’s just the very old and the very young,” said Mrs. Pierson. “Let’s hold hands and each say what we’re most thankful for. You start, Julia.”

  Julia thought for a second. “I’m thankful for my sister, Bird. Especially now. If I didn’t have you, Bird, I’d feel even more confused and so alone.” Julia’s smile was lopsided and uncertain.