The Trouble With Christmas

by Robin Daniels

  “Eyelash curlers could be used as torture devices,” I complained. “Maybe if kids had to get their eyelashes curled in detention, there’d be a lot less rule breaking.”

  “Hold still if you don’t want me to pinch your eyelid.” Tina had zero sympathy and was growing frustrated with my impatience.

  I was starting to get squirmy, not to mention hungry. Garland and Evan tried to sneak in a few times but were shooed out of the room before they could see anything. After the third attempt, Mom put them to work moving Evan’s stuff out of the guest bedroom and into Garland’s. My sister Holly was driving in from New York and would be here any minute. Noel and her husband lived across town and were meeting us at the pageant.

  After a few hundred coats of mascara, Tina stepped back to admire her work. “All done!” I tried to look in the mirror, but she stopped me. “Not without the dress. I want you to get the whole effect.” She sent me into the closet to change. Somehow, Mom had found time to add a fur trim to the bottom of the skirt anyway. It was such a simple thing, but it made a huge impact.

  When I was finally allowed to see myself, I couldn’t believe the transformation. I’d gotten dressed up before, but this was beyond fancy. “Whoa. I don’t even look like me. I look like…like…like Christmas.”

  It sounded insane, but there was no better way to describe it. I was the physical embodiment of Christmas. My makeup was heavy around the eyes, almost white in some places and frosty blue in others. My cheeks were rosy, and my lips were red. Tina had dusted me from the chest up in a powder that shimmered. It gave the impression that my skin was sparkling with snow. Baby’s breath was woven into my updo, and tiny sprigs of mistletoe were pinned strategically around my head.

  Mom entered the bathroom. “Holly’s running late—” She stopped abruptly to gasp. Then she stood in front of me and held me at arm’s length, examining me from head to toe. “Chrissy, you look amazing.”

  “Ladies!” Dad yelled from downstairs. “It’s time to go!”

  Tina hugged me. “I’ve got to pick up Nate. We’ll see you there.”

  “Thank you, Tina. I can’t believe how beautiful you made me.”

  She smiled. “I had a pretty good canvas to work with.”

  I went to my room, slipped on my heels, and grabbed a clutch for my phone and lipstick. I gave myself one last look in the mirror. “Here goes nothing,” I said.

  When I descended the stairs, all the guys gawked. Dad whistled and said, “Wow!” Garland gave me an appreciative nod. I think that’s the closest thing to a compliment I’d ever get from him. Evan couldn’t take his eyes off me. He grabbed my coat and helped me into it. As he straightened the fabric on my shoulders, he leaned in and whispered, “You look stunning. Nate’s a lucky guy.”

  Holly made it to the school at the same time we did, then killed five minutes by making a big fuss over my dress. Eventually, Mom ushered me inside, and the rest of the family went to find seats. “Are you nervous?” she asked.

  “No, I’m fine,” I replied, but the second I got a good look at the crowd, I felt sick to my stomach.

  Mom saw the nausea hit me. “Don’t worry, Chrissy. You’ll be wonderful.”

  “Chrissy.” Kathy came up behind me. “You’re number seven in the lineup. That means you’ll go after Sheila for both the runway and the question portions.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled with a shaky voice.

  “Attention, everyone!” Kathy clapped her hands to quiet the backstage. “Curtain’s up in three minutes. Mayor Jensen will start with the welcome. After that is a skit by the drama club. Then contestants will walk the runway in numerical order. You’ll need to line up on stage right. Connie will tell you when to go so you won’t miss your cue. Proceed to the end of the runway and do a turn or a little dance, if you want. The audience loves it when contestants ham things up. Just don’t throw stuff into the crowd.” She narrowed her eyes at Sebastian.

  “What?” he said innocently, but everyone knew what she meant. Last year he threw handfuls of candy at all the kids. It wound everyone up so bad that the woman after him had to wait a full minute before taking her turn.

  “After the runway, the glee club will do two numbers, and then you’ll be called out to answer your question for the judges. Try to speak slowly and look at the audience. While the judges are deliberating, the elementary ballet class will do a short selection from The Nutcracker. When that’s done, we’ll line you all up on the stage and announce the winners. Any questions?” She paused for half a second. Not nearly enough time for anyone to respond. “No? Great. Get to your places.”

  Another wave of nausea hit. “Take a deep breath, honey. Everything will be okay.” Mom looked around the room, then lowered her voice. “Dad was right. You’ll be top five, easy.” Kathy shooed Mom away. “Just one more thing,” she said to me. “When you get to the end of the runway, don’t twirl. Drop to a curtsey. You look like a queen tonight. Make sure those judges know you deserve the crown.”

  I had to make it to the end before I could curtsey. I was worried I’d trip on my skirt or fall off the stage. And if I managed to escape the runway in one piece, I still had to deal with the judge’s question. They’d probably ask me to recite “The Night Before Christmas” or explain the process I used to weave my gift basket. I’d been pretending a lot the last few days, but there were some things you couldn’t fake. I desperately wished that Nate were up here instead of me. He always knew what to say.

  Dad got the crowd worked up with a few corny jokes. Before he left the stage, he had Sebastian come out and hand over the crown, even though there was a good chance he’d get it back at the end of the show. The drama club’s skit was actually funny, and for a moment I forgot what was about to happen. But then the lights dimmed, and the music started.

  “Breathe,” I chanted, inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth.

  Kathy stepped out on the stage. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, let’s meet this year’s Yuletide Pageant finalists.” She introduced us one at a time before the spotlight followed us down the runway. The committee had added a slide show of everyone’s craft entries so the judges could remember who did what. It was a nice touch.

  As former king, Sebastian went first, wearing a fancy silver tuxedo. He was followed by a Santa, a sugar plum fairy, someone sporting Christmas pajamas, a pregnant Mary (Yikes, Barb!) and the woman ahead of me who’d worn a nice dress but wrapped a dozen strands of battery-operated lights around her body. She looked ridiculous. And talk about hamming it up. Sheesh.

  “Chrissy, love,” Connie smiled at me. “You’re up.”

  Another deep breath, and I stepped onto the runway. Kathy spoke into the microphone, which hadn’t malfunctioned once. I really wished it would cut out right about now. “Next is Chrissy Jensen, Rudolph’s resident Grinch.” The crowd chuckled, and I thought I might die. But I’d never kept my feelings about Christmas secret, so I suppose she was being fair, even if it was in bad taste. This was Karma, dishing out payback. Luckily, the house lights were off and the spotlight was bright, so I couldn’t see all the laughing faces.

  At least Kathy was kind enough to say good things about my craft entries when they displayed on the screen above me. I made it to the end of the walk and did as my mom suggested, bowing into a low curtsey. I held it for a count of three before standing as gracefully as I could and turning around. When I finished, I faced the audience one last time and blew them a kiss. Then I waved like a princess and disappeared behind the curtain.

  “Let’s hear it for the lovely Christmas Eve!”

  I bristled at Kathy’s use of my full name, though everyone except for me had stopped caring about how weird it was a decade ago. At least I’d made it through the first part of the pageant unscathed. Unfortunately, the worst was yet to come.

  The glee club sounded good—I think. I barely heard them. I was too busy making a list of all the stupid things I shouldn’t say. Then I stopped because
I got worried that they’d be the only words I could remember. After that, I focused on the other contestants’ answers.

  So far, the questions had been benign. What was your most memorable Christmas? What is your favorite Christmas tradition? What does Christmas mean to you? Nobody had asked any technical crafting questions, which made me feel a little bit better.

  “Let’s get Chrissy Jensen back out here,” Kathy said.

  I walked out to meet her at center stage. The lights had been turned up after the slideshow, so I could see everyone in the gym this time. I tried to make eye contact with each of the judges. Reverend Johnson held up a note card and read from it. “Miss Jensen, how has participating in this year’s Yuletide Pageant influenced your feelings about Christmas?”

  Was he for real!? That wasn’t a generic question. It was personal, specifically designed to make me look like a fool. My cheeks heated, and my adrenaline pumped. I wanted to tell the reverend where he could stick his question because it wasn’t fair and the judges were clearly picking on me.

  Moisture dabbed at my eyes. Do. Not. Cry. I warned in silence. I was about to walk off the stage, when I caught a glimpse of my family in the second row. Dad gave me a thumbs up. Mom nodded in support. But it was Nate that really changed my mind. He drew a little heart in the air with his fingers and mouthed the words be yourself. I took a deep breath. I’d do this for them, but I was going with honesty this time.

  I stepped close to the mic stand. “Those of you who know me know that I’m not a huge fan of Christmas.” My voice wobbled. I glanced at Kathy, adding, “It’s probably fair to label me the town Grinch.” I thought she’d look smug, but her expression read guilt. “I didn’t even enter this contest on my own. My best friend and I got into a fight, so he signed me up for revenge. Even worse, the only reason I didn’t withdraw is that I was trying to impress a boy.” There were a few murmurs in the audience. I was committing pageant suicide, but I didn’t care.

  “I stink at crafting.” Quite a few eyes grew wide with that admission. I held up my hand as if I were taking an oath. “I swear I helped with all my projects, but the real credit should go to Nate Ellison. He’s the talent and creativity in my operation.” The people sitting near him turned to stare, and he gave them a proud wave.

  “You asked how competing in this pageant has influenced my feelings about Christmas. I’d like to tell you that it’s softened me up. That Christmas is now my favorite holiday, and I love everything about it. I can’t, because that kind of change doesn’t happen overnight. It might never happen.

  “I’ll admit I had a little fun decorating trees and baskets. And I had a lot of fun winning a ribbon for Nate’s church.” I grinned at Nate and the audience snickered. “But truthfully, I still find Christmas movies outrageously annoying. Ugly holiday sweaters still make me gag. And I still think having a music-coordinated light show in your yard is obnoxious.” I heard a few gasps.

  “None of that matters, though. Christmas isn’t about me. It’s about family, love, kindness, making others happy, giving people hope. It’s charity and generosity.” I looked directly at Reverend Johnson. “It’s celebrating Jesus and trying to be like him. I’ve always known this; I just didn’t care. I was too bitter about having a birthday on Christmas, angry that my parents named me Christmas Eve, and annoyed by how crazy this town gets with celebrations.” The judges all looked at me in awe.

  “So, to answer your question, participating in the Yuletide Pageant hasn’t really influenced my feelings about Christmas at all. It has, however, forced me to acknowledge that it’s important to the people I love. And because I love them, I need to have a better attitude. If that means embracing the spirit of Christmas, then so be it.”

  Nobody clapped until I stepped back from the microphone. I think everyone was too shocked and appalled. I walked away with my head held high, feeling relieved that I’d come clean and hadn’t fallen flat on my face.

  I saw Nate stand when I finished speaking. He rushed backstage. “I can’t believe you did that!” He grinned, scooping me into a bear hug. “It was so hardcore.”

  “Yeah, well, you know me.” I laughed. “I wanted to drop the mic, but I couldn’t get it out of the stand.”

  Nate chuckled. “I think the meaning would have been lost on that crowd anyway.”

  “I’m sorry I ruined our chances of winning.” I bit my lip. “You worked so hard.”

  “Eh.” Nate shrugged one shoulder. “If I cared that much, I would have entered myself. Besides, that big old crown would have messed up your hair.”

  “Right?” I laughed. “And it took your mom hours to do. I think I’m going to leave it like this for a day or two. Get my money’s worth, you know?” I patted the top of my curls, which were hard as a rock.

  Nate looked me up and down. “I think you should wear that dress forever. You’re so hot, I’m having a hard time not kissing you.”

  I pushed up on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Then do it.” Our lips met, and all the disappointment I had about failing him melted away. I knew from the way he kissed me that winning didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to him was me.

  I didn’t get the crown—big surprise. But I did come in second—even bigger surprise. Sebastian placed third. The look on his face made the whole ordeal worth it. Barb was named Queen (I think the Mary costume clenched it), and I went home to spend the night with my friends and family. It was probably the best Christmas I’d ever had. And thanks to that dumb pageant, I was the new and improved Christmas Eve.

  THE END

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