“Josh,” she called. “You coming with us? I won’t take no for an answer, city boy!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smile.
“You are your mother’s daughter, Jackie,” I said with a laugh. I grabbed one of the toboggans from Jackie and started running toward the top of the hill. “Race ya!”
“Oh, come on! You totally cheated!” Jackie yelled to me, trying to keep up.
I jumped and landed bottom first on my toboggan. I’m gonna feel that later. The wind whipped my face, causing my hair to fly haphazardly and smack me in the back with every bounce. I felt like a kid again. When I reached the bottom of the hill, I was thrown off my toboggan and right into a massive pile of snow. Jackie quickly joined me and we laughed uncontrollably as if we really were kids again.
“Come on, let’s do it again,” Jackie said, pulling me from my snow hole. “Let’s race Josh this time.”
We must have ridden down that hill a dozen more times before we called it a day. I was thankful to have brought extra gloves and a blanket because I was soaking wet. Sledding in jeans was not my smartest idea. My dad, Josh, and I drove back home in silence, but I knew that each of us were contemplating the memories we had made tonight. Memories that would be with us forever.
30
I’ve always heard people say that the road sounds different once you’re close to home, and I never really understood it until that day. Pulling into our driveway and unloading the tree felt different than it ever had before, and it wasn’t because I was home and my mom wasn’t. There was something about the air, about the movements and the sounds and the smells. It was home. It was the place where I was allowed to fully be myself and was embraced for it. Yet, in two days, I would be leaving it all behind again to live in a world I knew I didn’t truly belong in.
“Pumpkin, can you go heat up the soup I left in the fridge?” my dad asked from underneath the trunk of the tree he was setting down on the front porch. “We can put up the tree when we’re done eating.”
“Okay,” I replied, smiling as I watched them walk back to the truck to get the second tree.
I loved that Dooley knew my dad so well and had saved two trees for him. It made my heart smile knowing there were so many people looking out for him while I was gone. And I was happy to have two trees to decorate and bring a little cheer back to this sad house.
I unlocked the door and put the soup on the stove like my dad asked. It was peaceful inside that little farmhouse, and I found myself thinking of Caleb once again. At this point, all I knew was that he was getting married, and I didn’t know if I would ever see him again. I needed to get over him—and fast. I was glad I would be in this house for the rest of my trip and wouldn’t have to see anyone else from town to cloud my judgement.
The soup was hot by the time the guys came back in, and I poured us each a bowl as they took their boots off and washed their hands. French onion soup was a staple in this house, and it was the perfect treat on this bitter, cold day. I broke off a corner of the sourdough bread that my dad had stashed in the pantry and dunked it into the soup. I didn’t want to forget this taste ever.
“Shall we?” my dad asked when he was finished, placing his bowl in the sink.
“Definitely,” Josh said. “I couldn’t tell you the last time I decorated a Christmas tree. Or anything for that matter.”
I went up to the attic to pull down the box of ornaments my dad said still lived up there and met the two of them in the den. Gnocchi was curled up next to the fireplace, purring up a storm. Occasionally, he would steal a glance at Josh, and it made me chuckle. I wished my apartment allowed pets because I wanted to take him back with me. But at the same time, I didn’t want to leave my dad completely alone. I knew he found comfort in having Gnocchi with him.
When I got back downstairs, I was greeted by Nat King Cole’s velvet voice singing Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire. His version of “The Christmas Song” was my parents’ favorite, and I loved watching them dance in front of the fire every time it played. We started decorating every year to that song, and they would dance before they strung the lights. I held my hand out to my dad, and he twirled me and held me close. I knew my mom was with us in that moment.
After the song finished, I sat down on the den floor and opened the bin I had brought down. I rubbed my fingers over the ornaments and smiled at the memory that each one held. The Precious Moments graduation ornament my mom bought when I graduated middle school was still in the box, and it looked as though it hadn’t ever been opened despite being hung on the tree every year. I laughed at the ornament of snoopy playing tennis that I had gotten the year I played tennis in high school. Played is a funny way of saying I made the team and then didn’t really finish the season. The cat sleeping in the pink bed was from when we got Gnocchi, and we thought he was a girl. Oops.
The phone rang, startling all three of us. Of course, Gnocchi slept through the noise. My dad put the string of lights down and picked up the phone in the kitchen. I couldn’t hear everything he was saying, but he sounded both lighthearted and professional. His demeanor shifted when he peeked his head into the den and told me to come into the kitchen.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“It’s your Nonna. Would you like to speak with her?” he asked me.
My hands started to sweat and my chest tightened. I took a deep breath and extended my arm toward my dad. He placed the phone in my hand and a kiss to my forehead.
“It’s just a phone conversation,” he said and walked back to the den to help Josh finish stringing the lights.
“Hello?” I said quietly into the phone.
“Leah? Is that really you?” Nonna said from the other end of the line. Her accent was thick but her English was good.
“Yes, this is Leah,” I said, palming my forehead. I was so nervous.
“This is your grandmother. I am so sorry we are speaking like this for the first time. How are you, mi amore?”
“I’m doing okay,” I told her. “How are you?”
I was awkward with my responses, and I felt terrible about being so abrupt, but I didn’t know what to say or what to do. It was the most uncomfortable I had felt in a very long time, including the coffee spilling incident with Caleb at the train station.
“My heart hurts, mi amore. Your grandfather and I tried to get to America to attend your mother’s funeral but we couldn’t come. Your grandfather’s health has not been too good, and it wasn’t safe for us to travel. I’m sorry we could not call sooner.”
“I understand,” I told her genuinely. “We both understand.”
“Leah, I know we don’t know each other, and I know you just recently found out about us, but I want you to know that your grandfather and I would really love to get to know you. Would you consider coming to Italy to visit?” Her voice shook at her question, and it made me feel connected to her. It almost seemed like I was talking to my mother again.
“Nonna? Can I call you that?” I asked.
“Of course you can.”
“Nonna, I would love to visit you. Maybe my dad and I can plan a trip next summer. I’ll have to see how work is then, but we should be able to make that happen,” I told her.
“Oh, wonderful!” she exclaimed.
I didn’t know her well enough to anticipate her next words, but the way she responded was so much like my mom that I burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, mi amore. It is far better to start late than to never start at all. I cannot wait to start this new relationship,” Nonna said.
We said our goodbyes and I went back into the den to see Josh tangled up in the string of lights and my dad elbow deep in a box of garland. It was exactly the view I needed after that emotional phone call.
“How did the call go, pumpkin?”
“Great! She invited us to visit next summer,” I told him.
“I’ll mark my calendar now,” he said, always on my side.
We finished decorating the tree in silence wit
h the exception of the Christmas music quietly playing in the background. It was different than the fun and exciting time we had growing up, but this was a different time and the mood seemed to fit. I noticed Josh seemed to be quite the decorator as he placed each ornament exactly three inches apart and did so with a very delicate touch. It made me giggle watching him take such pride in his very first tree decorating event. The phone rang again and we all jumped.
“Now, who could that be?” my dad asked and got up to answer it.
“No, sit. I’ll get it,” I offered.
“Hello,” I said into the phone.
“Hey, Leah! It’s Becky,” boomed from the phone.
“Hi, Becky. What’s going on?”
“Dooley and Jackie told me that you three stopped by earlier for a tree. I was hoping that since you got the tree, you’be celebrating Christmas Eve. Tell me you are,” she pleaded.
“Well, my dad had Josh pick up a bunch of food from the grocery store and the butcher this morning. So, yes, we absolutely are!” I exclaimed, suddenly as excited as her.
“Oh, Leah, you have no idea how happy this makes me,” she said. “I was so worried your dad might spiral after your mom passed, but I think you’re bringing him much more than a little Christmas cheer.”
“I know what you mean. I was worried about that, too. He seems to be handling things very well, and I know he might crumble from time to time, but I think knowing I’ll be visiting him much more often helps,” I said.
“I agree. So, listen, I don’t want to be rude, but what do you think about Dooley, me, and Jackie coming over for dinner with you guys? I have a few desserts prepared that I could bring and then we could all go to midnight mass together at the church? Do you think your dad would like that?” Becky asked.
Of course, I thought the idea was wonderful and the furthest thing from rude. We spent most of my childhood Christmas Eve dinners with the Butlers anyway, and they were the closest thing to family we had. I turned my attention to my dad and Josh, who were standing identically and staring at the tree. Left hands around their mouths and chins, right hands gently touching their left elbows, and their heads cocked to the left, examining each pine needle. I laughed, pulling them out of their zone.
“Dad, Becky’s on the phone. She wants to know if we want to have Christmas Eve dinner with them. She’ll bring dessert,” I told him.
“Absolutely! But only if they dress in their ugly sweaters. No sweater, no dinner,” he said with a laugh.
“I’ll let her know,” I said and laughed in return.
This was going to be a great Christmas despite a really shitty month. Becky agreed to my father’s demands and we settled on dinner at seven-thirty. I popped the roast into the oven and then we finished decorating the inside and outside of the house. I was quite proud of myself for successfully attaching Frosty to the roof without falling off. It was easier than I thought it’d be considering I didn’t have to climb a ladder since the attic window opened right up to the roof. Too bad I wasn’t a rebel in high school. I could have totally used that window to my advantage.
Josh surprised us all and made an eggnog from scratch which we sipped by the fire waiting for our guests to arrive. At seven-thirty on the dot, the back door opened and Dooley’s voice bellowed throughout the downstairs.
“Ho, ho, ho! Santa’s here!” he called, making us all laugh.
He ripped his jacket off and stood in the doorway to the den with his hands fisted on his hips like a superhero. I almost spit out my eggnog at the sight of his sweater. It was red, black, green, and white and had vintage snowflakes and Rudolph knitted on the front. Only on the bottom of the sweater where the ground was supposed to be was Rudolph’s red nose and the words “Ho, ho, NO!”
“All right, Dooley. You win,” my dad said and stood up to hug his best friend.
Becky and Jackie came in wearing matching elf sweaters, and I couldn’t stop laughing at how closely they resembled the sweater I had put on Gnocchi. What were the odds that two women would come to a Christmas Eve dinner and match the cat?
I had on my *NSYNC Christmas sweater, which I still considered to be the coolest thing ever. Josh borrowed one of my dad’s many sweaters and chose one with tassels and pom poms. It was a sight, for sure. And my dad went simple this year and wore a black sweater that had a Christmas tree with lights that actually lit up. This party was what we all needed.
Dinner was delicious, as always. The roast came out perfect, and the potato, carrot, onion, and brussel sprout combination my mom used to make was amazing. We ate and ate and then ate some more, and I don’t know how we had any room left for dessert, but we did. When we finished eating, we retired to the den for some wine and to exchange gifts. It was weird being home with all these people who had become family and not having my mom with us. I really hoped she was looking down on us today.
31
Before we knew it, it was time to head to midnight mass. Growing up, mass was my favorite because it meant I got to stay up late and try to catch a glimpse of Santa before I went to bed. We would come home afterward and set out milk and cookies for him and carrots for the reindeer. We kept this tradition going all the way until my last Christmas at home, even though we all knew it was for our own sake. Somehow, I never caught that glimpse, but I’ve always kept the magic alive in my heart.
Mass was quiet this year. I’d like to think the town was still a bit somber because of the loss of my mom, but that made it surprisingly easier to get through. The choir was beautiful and when they started to sing “O Holy Night,” my mother’s favorite, I saw a single tear roll down my father’s cheek and land on the book of hymns he was holding.
At that moment, I knew my mother was with us.
We saw Tammy when we were leaving and stopped to chat for a bit. I assumed this was the first midnight mass she had seen my dad at since I left for college considering he had told me they stopped celebrating. She glanced at Josh and then looked at me before acknowledging my dad.
“Paul,” she said, cradling his hands in hers. “I hope this is the beginning of new and wonderful traditions. She will always be with us; I can feel her here tonight.”
“Thank you, Tammy. It’s hard but I can feel her, too,” he replied, somehow managing to maintain his composure.
He was so strong. I didn’t know how he did it, but I vowed to learn from his strength. I could do anything with him by my side.
“Where’s Caleb?” Jackie asked, peeking around from behind me.
“He’s at home packing. He has to be back for some meetings Monday, so he’s catching a train out of here tomorrow,” Tammy told her.
“On Christmas? Don’t they get a break?” Jackie replied, astounded.
I knew he just wanted to get back to warm Tennessee to celebrate Christmas Day with his fiery little fiancée. I’m sure he didn’t want to be stuck in Grace Valley when he could be cuddled up next to her. Becky must have sensed my discomfort and stepped in to save the day.
“Well, we should be heading home now. Santa comes bright and early in the Butler household,” she said. She winked at Jackie, who seemed to be picking up on her mother’s subtle hints. “It was wonderful spending this evening with you all. Please swing by tomorrow.”
“Sounds great, Beck. Thanks,” he said, hugging her tight. “Merry Christmas.”
The rest of us said our goodbyes and went in separate directions to our homes. We got back to the house and took Gnocchi’s ugly sweater off, set out milk, cookies, and carrots and went to bed. That was the first night I fell asleep without crying. It was the first night I felt comfortable with the way my life was going.
I woke up to the smell of coffee wafting through the house and my heart felt light. I felt like I had as a little girl waking up on Christmas morning. I half expected to see my mom in the kitchen, dressed in her snowman bathrobe and putting the breakfast casserole into the oven. I quickly threw on some leggings and wrapped her sweater around my shoulders, then followed the scen
t of the coffee. Nothing makes me happier than a hot coffee first thing in the morning.
I took a peek into the den at the Christmas tree, just like I did as a little girl. I noticed there were a lot more presents under it than there were when I left it after sneaking downstairs at one a.m. to put my gifts under the tree. I made a mental note to buy Sara an extra gift when I got back to the city as a thank you for going to my apartment and not only collecting, but also wrapping and sending the gifts I had bought to give to my dad and Josh. Good thing I didn’t return Josh’s gifts!
“Merry Christmas, pumpkin,” my dad said, rushing to cross the kitchen and enveloping me in a bear hug. That feeling was what Christmas dreams were made of.
“Merry Christmas, Daddy.”
“Merry Christmas, Abernathys!” Josh exclaimed, still in his pajamas and rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Merry Christmas, Josh,” my dad and I said in unison.
“Let’s eat and then we can open some presents,” my dad said.
I could tell he was trying to make this as close to my childhood as possible. I wasn’t sure if he was doing this partly because my mom was no longer here or if it was because I had missed seven Christmases with him and he felt like we needed to make up for lost time. Either way, I was happy that some things really were best left untouched. He had made the casserole that we ate every year, and I probably could have bet my life savings this was the first time he had made it since I left. We scarfed down breakfast and excitedly made our way to the tree. We were such kids!
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