“Oh,” Jeremy smiled. “Their names are Deedee and Dodo.”
“What? Who are they?” She thought he was making fun of her.
Jeremy looked around the room to see if Ben was nearby. “They’re Ben’s friends.” Violet’s look of confusion led him to continue. “You know, the ones he plays with, outside?”
“Oh my goodness,” Violet said when she realized what he meant. “His imaginary friends? They have names? They’re coming to dinner? What does that even mean?”
“I know it’s a little strange, but I asked Ben if he wanted to invite them and I think he really liked the idea. I think he feels lonely.”
Violet turned so he wouldn’t see her face. Lightning-quick rage boiled through her body. How dare he play the hero, inviting imaginary friends to dinner because he felt bad about Ben being lonely. Do you know why he’s so lonely? she wanted to scream. Because you keep us in this fucking house. She felt as if her body temperature had risen 20 degrees.
How did he know so much about Ben’s imaginary friends? How did he know their names, or that Ben would want to invite them to dinner? Couldn’t Jeremy see that they weren’t real people, and that no one would sit in the chairs he’d put out for them, no one would eat the food on their plates? What an idiot. It would be embarrassing for everyone.
Violet couldn’t resist. She wouldn’t say nearly all she wanted to, but she had to say something.
“How do you know about Deedee and Dodo?” she asked, trying to waive the anger from her voice.
“I just asked him about them and he told me.”
Fuck you. And you’re the hero because I didn’t ask and I’m his sister and I should have.
“Do you talk to Ben alone a lot?” She let the accusation drip from her words.
“What? No! God no,” Jeremy said, guessing at what she had implied. “I just found him outside talking to himself one time and asked him who he was playing with, and then last night he had a nightmare and I was talking to – “
“What do you mean he had a nightmare?” she interrupted. “You went into his bedroom when he was sleeping?” She was getting angrier by the second.
Jeremy looked at her with a mixture of pity and pleading. “Violet, he was screaming in his sleep. You didn’t wake up, and I did, so I went to him. I didn’t want him to be alone when he was scared, so I just went in to see if he was okay.”
Violet took a deep breath. So Ben had been having nightmares again. He’d been doing so well, they barely happened anymore. How could she not have woken up? Worse, how could Jeremy have woken up and been the one to comfort him? Her bedroom was right beside his, they shared a wall, and Jeremy was all the way down the hall. She hated Jeremy in that moment.
“So now we’re just going to sit around the table with two empty seats and pretend everything is normal.”
Jeremy frowned. Good. She wanted him to hurt.
“I just thought you might think it was a good idea, since it’s something that would make Ben happy,” Jeremy said.
Fuck you, she thought again. Kidnappers can’t take any moral highroads. She wanted to scream it, yell and kick at him. Still, she kept the peace. For Ben’s sake. She kept breathing and moving and cooking until everything was ready.
“Ben,” she called out, “it’s time for dinner. You can tell your friends too.” She didn’t think she had the capacity to yell out Deedee and Dodo’s names to ask them personally to come eat, and figured it was fair to pass that job along to Ben.
“Coming!” he shouted from upstairs, his outburst followed by staccato foot thumps, gradually drawing nearer and nearer until there he was in front of her, a big nervous smile.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked.
“Stuffed chicken,” Violet said proudly. She hadn’t known what she was doing, but she’d sautéed some sweet peppers, mushroom, onion, garlic, fresh basil, feta and some dried herbs, then slit open a chicken breast and filled its insides. It smelled delicious. That was the thing about living at home, her mom had cooked most of the time. Or, rather, heated things up.
Ben scrunched up his nose at her description of dinner. He liked his food separated, little piles of this and that to be eaten one by one. The idea of a chicken stuffed with all kinds of different things sounded scary. He was gracious enough to wait until Violet’s back was turned before the scrunch.
“Okay Ben, want to pour the milk?” That was his job for every meal as well as helping clear the table at the end of it.
“Yup,” he said, heading towards the fridge. Violet loved watching him do it, especially when the milk bag ran out and he had to slice open a new one with the little magnetized cutter stuck to the fridge. His hands moved so assuredly. He had the mannerisms of an old man performing an age-old duty.
The three sat together, plates steaming with chicken and rice, fresh salad on the side. Violet looked at the two empty plates next to Ben and somehow felt rude.
“Are they hungry?” she asked, almost saying their names before second-guessing her memory of them and stopping herself.
“Oh,” Ben said shyly. “They brought their own food from home. But they say thank you very much for having them.” He said it so quickly, like he didn’t want Violet to be offended that they didn’t like her cooking.
She smiled at her little brother who was trying hard not to notice how many types of food he was eating in one bite. She could see him hold his breath a little bit, chew quickly, swallow, and wash it down with a pull of milk.
“What did Deedee and Dodo do today?” The names had come back to her.
“They were just playing with me mostly,” Ben said apprehensively. He glanced at Violet with an evaluative look; gauging her mood. The anger had seeped out of her.
“That sounds nice,” she said with a smile. She looked at Jeremy then, who was more silent than usual. Violet fought the urge to ask him how his day was. It would sound too familiar, too close to camaraderie. Thankfully, he saw her look and decided to speak on his own.
“So… Christmas is coming in a few days.” He hadn’t wanted to say the words, and it was obvious in the strained way they came out. The truth was that he hated to announce it because he knew they would have to spend it with him, and he was worried it would make them hate him.
Ben’s eyes grew wide and he looked to Violet expectantly. She just shook her head. She knew what he asking, and the answer was no. As if he didn’t believe her, he turned his gaze to Jeremy instead.
“You’re not going to be able to go home for Christmas, Ben. I’m really sorry about that.”
The table went silent for a minute, except for the scratch of forks and knives. Ben broke the silence, and he whispered, “You’re the Grinch.”
“The Grinch?” Jeremy asked sadly.
“You stole us. And now you stole Christmas. Like the Grinch.” His words were deliberate and designed to wound. They sounded so melodramatic coming out of his tiny mouth that Violet put her hand over hers to stifle a laugh.
“I know,” Jeremy said, “I know it’s awful. If it makes you feel any better, I never have anyone to spend Christmas with. This will be the first time in a long time that I’ll get to be with people I care about.”
This was met with a glare from Ben, and a blank look from Violet.
“Look,” he continued, “I know this isn’t where you want to be. But I’m going to do my best to make this a great Christmas for us. Do you know how much fun we could have here? Look at all the trees out there,” he gestured, palm up, to the snow-filled backyard. “We can pick one out, cut it down, and decorate it in here. And Violet,” he turned to her, “I can buy any sort of baking supplies you’d like, maybe we could all make some sugar cookies or something.”
He was going a mile a minute, making another hard sell. “And… well, I know you guys won’t be able to go shopping… But if you put together a list of things you’d like to give each other, I’d be more than willing to pick them up for you.”
“How will Santa know we’re h
ere?” Ben asked skeptically.
Violet raised her eyebrows. Ben still believed in Santa Claus? Wasn’t he a little old for that? She searched back through her memory, hoping she hadn’t made any grown-up faux pas’ denouncing the existence of Old Saint Nick. If Ben was still able to believe, she wanted to let him.
“Oh, he’ll know,” Jeremy recovered quickly. “We can even leave him out some cookies and milk.”
“And carrots for the reindeer?”
“And carrots for the reindeer.”
Ben appeared to be evaluating the offer, as if it was something he could accept or reject.
“Okay,” he finally said. “What day is it today?”
Jeremy glanced at the fridge where the calendar used to hang. He had taken it down when Violet and Ben moved upstairs. “The 22nd,” he finally gathered.
“That’s not a lot of time. Why didn’t we talk about this earlier?” Ben scowled at Jeremy. “How am I supposed to decide what I would like from Santa, and what I want to get for Vi so quick?”
“Well,” Violet stepped in, “I’ve been thinking lately that I might like a new notebook that I could write in. And maybe a warm sweater or some wool socks.”
Ben scrunched up his nose again. He couldn’t understand why anyone would ask for socks when they could choose whatever they wanted.
“And Ben,” Jeremy added, “If you let me know by the morning of the 24th, then I’ll make sure I have everything ready in time. I’ll even buy some wrapping paper and bows and things so you can wrap them however you want.”
Christmas wrapping was a whole new experience for Ben. His mother had always slapped his name on gifts from herself to Violet, or sometimes he wasn’t included at all. Something about being able to give gifts made him feel warm inside, and very grown up.
“Okay,” he said. “That sounds good. Can I get something for Deedee and Dodo too?” he asked, looking over at the emptily filled seats.
“Sure,” Jeremy said, “Whatever they would like. Just add them to your list.”
Ben ate with a new zeal after that. He finished everything on his plate and quickly asked if he could be excused to go work on his wish list. Violet told him he’d have to do extra cleaning up tomorrow to make up for it, but secretly, she was clenched up with happiness. It was nice to see him excited.
“Oh – and can Deedee and Dodo please be excused as well?”
“Of course,” Violet and Jeremy said in unison. She looked at Jeremy in surprise.
When Ben and invisible company had cleared the area, Violet sucked up her pride. “That was really nice, what you suggested,” she said.
Jeremy shook his head to shrug it off. “I love Christmas. I mean, I don’t normally get gifts, and I don’t usually have anyone to buy gifts for, but I like the idea of it. Families coming together and staying warm inside while it’s cold out…” He trailed off.
“Tell me more about your family,” Violet said.
“Right. Sure. Well, I never knew my father, and my mother decided she didn’t want me.” He didn’t know how else to phrase that part.
“I lived in an orphanage for awhile. Eventually I was adopted by this family, the Ridgeroy’s, and there were tons of us kids. Eight in total. They didn’t have time for us at all. It was like they were collecting as many as they could. I think it was for the money.
“Anyway, pretty much all of us got out of that house as soon as we could. Most of them have their own families now to spend the holidays with. I just never really found anyone else.” He sounded embarrassed, as if it was shameful to be so alone.
To Violet, it was just sad. She felt her heart warm a shade. “Well, you know that Ben is adopted, but did you know that I’m adopted too?”
“Really?” He looked at her with an intensity that she hadn’t yet seen from him.
“Really. I was only a few days old. My birth mother was just really young and couldn’t afford a kid. And my mom, the one who adopted me, she didn’t have a husband or a boyfriend or anything, but she just decided it was time for her to have kids. So, she found me, and then a few years later, she found Ben too.”
“Does she have a man around now?”
“No. Well, no one special. A whole lot of ones who aren’t so special, though. They’re around by the dozen.” She laughed a little. She hadn’t realized she was bitter.
“But,” she continued, “My mom’s parents are both still living and pretty healthy, so we have grandparents. No aunts or uncles or cousins or anything, but we do alright.”
“I know this is a rude question,” Jeremy said, “So I’m sorry in advance. But do you love her like she’s your real mother?”
She wasn’t offended. “Yes. I do. I mean, I don’t remember my actual mother at all, so it’s not as if I’m pining after her, or comparing. Sometimes though… Well, yeah. I love her like she’s my real mom.”
“Sometimes though…?” Jeremy prompted.
“I don’t like talking about it. But sometimes, I wonder if my mom knew what she was getting herself into when she adopted us,” she pointed up the stairs towards Ben’s room. “I mean, she didn’t carry us for nine months, she didn’t eat right and touch her belly and feel us kicking around, and she didn’t have to go through labour… I just think that maybe my mom didn’t fully think it through.”
“How so?” Jeremy sat very still, looking right at Violet.
“Well, the ins and outs of being a mother. The having to be there, every second, for every tear and every first. Sometimes, she didn’t notice things. She told me that I learned to walk all on my own, and seemed proud of me for it. One day she just turned around, and there I was, walking towards her. She hadn’t helped me up or anything. Doesn’t that seem strange to you?” she looked to Jeremy. “I mean, I feel like if I had a kid and she was getting close to walking around, I would watch her every move and have the camera on at all times and have my hand ready to dart out, and have all the sharp edges covered in case she walked into them. But my mom just turned around, and there I was, walking.”
Jeremy paused to make sure she didn’t have anything else to add. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I know the feeling. There were so many of us that whenever we all went somewhere, they did a head count. Didn’t call our names or anything, just numbered us off.”
“Did you ever wish you had a smaller family? Or just a different family?” Violet asked, and knew that this time she was the one asking the rude question. She didn’t apologize.
“Yes. I guess now I’ve sort of resigned myself to it, and I do love some of my siblings. Like my sister, Rose, is really something. She’s so spunky and finds a way to be positive about all the bad things she’s been through. But I only see her once a year. One day out of the whole year, and it’s not even Christmas. It’s a random day at the end of summer so we can gloat about the things we’ve accomplished and ignore any of the bad stuff that might be going on.” Jeremy held his hands out in verbal claws that punctuated his words. They were birdlike talons; his long skinny fingers rigid and slightly angled. “It’s not family time, it’s not therapeutic, it’s just show and tell. And I usually don’t have much to do of either.”
“Hmm,” Violet said. “That’s sort of sad. I don’t mean about the show and tell part, I just mean that you have such a big family and you guys don’t even take advantage of it.”
“I know,” Jeremy said. “I guess I could try a little harder. It’s not like I make the phone calls, or send the cards. I don’t even know when any of their birthdays are. It’s to the point where if I did get a hold of any of them, it would be strange. I wouldn’t know what to say and I would feel like I was intruding. We’re all off doing our own things, on our own little islands.”
“Yeah well, you know what they say.”
“I know, ‘No man is an island,’” Jeremy anticipated.
“Oh,” Violet said. “I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘You can’t choose your family.’”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
Jeremy contested, a rare moment that he disagreed with anything Violet said. “I feel like us in particular, people like you and I, we’re not tied down by biological bonds. I feel like we can choose our families. And the one I was in wasn’t one I would have chosen for myself.”
She thought about it. “I’d still choose my family. I love Ben and I love my mom, even if she’s distant sometimes. I don’t think she means to be. And if I didn’t have them, I wouldn’t have anyone. I’d rather have a dysfunctional family than none at all.”
Jeremy watched her recoil like a flower shrinking back into itself, as if in need of watering. He knew he wouldn’t be able to reach her again that night. The only thing to do was to clean up after the mess they’d made. He stood up, gathered the dishes and washed them one by one.
Violet sat at the table with her head in her hands. She didn’t say another word.
21
Sure enough, Ben and Violet were able to come up with their Christmas lists by the next morning. Violet’s choices for Ben were simple: A peppermint patty. A pair of blue pajamas. A bug catching kit. A deck of cards.
She didn’t know what Jeremy’s budget was, and she wanted Ben to have a few things to open. The peppermint patty was a tradition of theirs; each Christmas they found one in their stocking. It was the only time of the year they would eat them. Violet dropped her list off first thing in the morning without a word.
“Hey Ben?” Jeremy called up the stairs. “You awake?”
He felt the thuds of Ben’s heavy feet before he heard a response. Thumping down the stairs, the youngest held one hand in front of him with a piece of paper in it.
“Here!” Ben said. “This is my list. Don’t show it to Violet.”
“Okay, I won’t,” he replied.
“Thanks, Jeremy,” he said before racing back up the stairs.
Jeremy paused to smile. Rarely did Ben use his name, or thank him. Determined more than ever to give them a good Christmas, he went out the door. He had a lot to prepare. Looking down at Ben’s list, Jeremy saw that there were two columns. One for Violet: Peppermint patty. Warm sweater (purple?). Notepad. Lip stuff.
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