Keeping Christmas Read online

  She walked back to the table and took one more bite of turkey. But she was done eating what was on this plate. After walking back to the kitchen counter, she set it down and reached for the pumpkin pie. She cut two slices, figured she might just be interested in something sweet. She set Stan’s on the paper plate and walked into the living room. She switched around an end table and a small upholstered chair in the corner, making a spot for the Christmas tree.

  Stan would be bringing that in first. Then she remembered, she did need to open up one of the boxes of decorations, to get a Christmassy tablecloth out. Last year, they’d opted for a little four-foot artificial tree, one they’d bought for half off at Hobby Lobby. Stan especially liked the fact that it came with all the lights already wired in. All he had to do was stick the plug in the wall. But the tree was so short, they had to prop it up on an end table to make it the right height. She quickly found the bright red tablecloth, unfolded it, tossed it over the end table, and straightened it up.

  “There,” she said aloud. “That should do it.”

  A moment later the interior door to the garage banged open. That would be Stan, dragging in the tree. She watched as he came around the wall that separated the living room and the kitchen.

  He looked toward the proper corner. “Good, it’s all set up.” He glanced at his watch. “Barney’s gonna be here any minute.”

  “Your pumpkin pie’s on a paper plate on the counter.”

  “Saw it, thanks.” He headed back toward the garage. “Time to get the ornaments down. I’m glad we got that shorter tree. Only three boxes to bring down this year.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

  They used to have five boxes when they set up a full-sized tree. She’d given two boxes to Suzanne when she moved to Fort Worth. She remembered that moment well. It wasn’t a happy one. For Suzanne it was. She loved getting all those familiar ornaments for her family. But Judith knew that Suzanne would be hanging those ornaments on a tree in Texas.

  A tree Judith would never see.

  A few minutes later, the kitchen door banged open again. Stan carried the boxes of ornaments over to the coffee table and set them down. “Well, that should do it. That’s everything.” Then a look on his face. “Oops, almost forgot.” He walked over to the tree, found the end of the plug, and pushed it into the wall. Several hundred little white lights instantly lit up. “There,” he announced. “You’re all set. If that doesn’t get you in a Christmas mood, nothing will.”

  She was about to say, “Then I guess nothing will,” but didn’t. The lights on the tree were nice. But they did little to lift her spirits.

  “Maybe you’d feel better if you broke tradition and hung the ornaments on the tree first. Set up the decorations around the house after.”

  She wanted to say, “You’re kidding, right?” But she heard a horn beep in front of the house. “There’s Barney. You better go, or he’ll keep honking.”

  After giving her a peck on the cheek and grabbing his pie, he said, “See you in a few hours.”

  She walked over to the sparkling tree, then glanced at the three boxes of ornaments. She loved decorating the tree. But usually when accomplishing this task, Judith had several happy helpers.

  This year she would be doing it by herself . . . if she did it at all.

  4

  For Stan, walking through the front doors of the Bass Pro Shop in Orlando was like being a kid walking down Main Street in Disney World. There was no place on earth he’d rather be. Judging by the look on his face, Barney felt the same way. And of course, with the place all done up for Christmas, the effect was tenfold.

  As with most men, shopping was serious business to Stan. You figure out what you want before you get there, go right to the aisle, pick out the best value for the money, and head to the register. Lickety-split. No dillydallying.

  But not here. Not at Bass Pro Shop.

  Here, a man took his time. Savored the moment. Walked slowly. Took in the sights. And there were plenty of sights to see, everywhere he looked. The last time they had visited, Barney had said, “This must be what a woman feels like at the mall.”

  “Yep,” Stan said. “Think you’re right.”

  They were primarily here to look at the fishing department, but every part of the store held fascination and wonder. Stan had never hunted before but found himself curiously drawn to everything he saw on the shelves and hanging on the walls. Hunting and fishing did tend to go together, like that magazine Field and Stream. “Ever thought about hunting, Barney?”

  Barney was staring at a rack of shotguns. “I hunted as a kid up in Michigan. Never did it once we moved down here to Florida.”

  “So you like fishing better then?”

  “I guess,” Barney said. “Not so much better, just different. Lots of good memories, hunting. I could see myself taking it up again someday. Don’t see as I have time for both yet. Maybe when I’m fully retired.” He lifted one of the shotguns off the rack, pretended to take aim. Then his eyes got real bright, seeing the old-fashioned shooting gallery nearby. He pointed to it with the gun. “What say we spend a few minutes over there and I teach you a thing or two about shootin’?”

  Stan looked. “Might as well.” What was a visit to Bass Pro Shop without spending time at the shooting gallery? It was like being a kid again.

  On the way, Stan stopped a moment and pointed toward Santa’s Wonderland, an entire section of the store transformed into a Bass Pro version of the North Pole. The place was filled with animated Christmas characters like reindeer and nutcrackers and Christmas elves. They had remote control trucks, a laser arcade, even slot car racing. And piles of fake snow all around like it had just fallen from the sky. “When we’re done at the shooting gallery, let’s go in there.”

  “The trains?”

  Stan nodded. Maybe for the kids, the big reindeer carousel was the centerpiece of Santa’s Wonderland, or the Big Guy himself if he was in the store. But for Stan it was the snow-covered Lionel train layout. Complete with an old-timey steam locomotive, an animated gondola, and a boxcar that played Christmas music. If you came at the right time, you could even man the controls.

  Barney looked at his watch.

  “What’s the matter?” Stan said. “We got plenty of time.”

  “I know, but there’s so much to look at in this place. Don’t let me forget before we leave, I want to show you that new high-tech trolling motor I read about in the magazine. They got one here. We gotta put one of those on our dream rig.”

  Ah, Stan thought, the dream rig.

  Finally, this was going to be the year—the year he and Barney purchased their dream bass fishing boat. He’d waited so long. Both of them had. But Stan had been raised right. You don’t put your hobbies and toys ahead of your family’s needs. When the kids lived at home, there was never enough money left over to save a single dime. So every year, he and Barney would sit in their old boat, watching other fishermen glide by in style.

  But not anymore.

  Now that his children were launched, pursuing their own lives and growing their own families, it was just him and Judith. He’d started saving for that boat right away. And now, finally, it was going to be his turn.

  “Earth to Stan, Earth to Stan.”

  Stan focused on Barney’s face.

  “I was talking about this new high-tech trolling motor I want to show you.”

  “I thought our dream rig already came with a trolling motor,” Stan said.

  “It does. But it’s just a basic one. For a dream rig, you need a dream trolling motor. This one’ll cost more, but it’s well worth it. Wait till you see what it can do. It’s totally wireless, works with a remote control you can operate with one hand. Got its own GPS system, so you can fix on a certain spot, get the boat there, then the trolling motor will keep you there while you fish. You drift a little, it’ll take you right back. And because it’s electric, it operates silently, so it won’t scare away the fish.”

  Stan had to admit,
he liked the sound of that. But their dream rig was already up to ten thousand dollars. And that wasn’t for a new boat, just a good used one. They were just weeks away now. The guy they had been talking with said he’d hold it for them until Christmas with a five-hundred-dollar, nonrefundable deposit. After that, he said he couldn’t wait anymore. The boat they had been fishing in for the last several years was a total embarrassment. Both of them hated it, but very soon their shame would be over.

  “So what do you think?” Barney said.

  “I think we should go see this thing before we leave. But I also think we might need to wait on buying something so fancy till after the New Year, especially since the new boat already comes with a trolling motor. It will take every penny we can scrimp together between now and Christmas to close the gap on that ten thousand dollars.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Barney said.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “How much you think we’re going to get when we sell our old boat and trailer?”

  “We’d be lucky to get five hundred.”

  “That’s about what I figured.” They’d just reached the shooting gallery. “We get our ten thousand figure nailed down, then you add five hundred dollars more for our old boat. Did you factor that in?”

  Stan had not.

  “Well, there you go. That’s where the money’s gonna come from for this new trolling motor.” He walked over toward an empty gun station at the shooting gallery, picked up the rifle.

  Stan smiled. He hadn’t thought about that. After walking toward the station next to Barney, he bent over and picked up his rifle.

  “Five dollars says I beat you by more than ten points,” Barney said.

  “You’re on.” Then Stan thought of something. “I need to go use the restroom first.”

  “That’s not going to help your aim any.”

  Stan laughed. “No, but it will help my concentration. Tell you what, I’m so confident of winning that bet, you can practice while I’m gone.”

  “I think I will.”

  Stan set the rifle back in its holder and headed toward the restroom. On the way there, his phone rang. He stopped to answer it. It was Betty, Barney’s wife. Why would she be calling him? She and Judith were close friends, though not as close as Stan and Barney. “Hey, Betty, did you mean to call Barney? Did he leave his phone volume off?”

  “No, Stan. I called you on purpose. I was just on Facebook uploading some Thanksgiving pics from our family time yesterday. Expected to see some from Judith, but there weren’t any. So I called her to see how she was doing, and she didn’t answer the phone. Is she okay?”

  “She’s probably just busy decorating the tree or putting up decorations in the house,” Stan said. “She’s having to do it all herself this year.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “None of the kids came home. It was just the two of us.”

  “Really? The poor thing.”

  Stan was about to say how he’d rather enjoyed it but held his peace.

  “She must be feeling something awful,” Betty said.

  “She did seem a little down when I left with Barney to come here.”

  “I’m gonna try to call her again.”

  Stan waited, wondering if Betty had anything more to say. Didn’t seem like she did. “Well, guess I’ll get back to shopping with Barney. Appreciate you calling her.”

  They hung up, and Stan headed for the restroom.

  5

  Judith had just gotten off the phone with Betty, who had invited herself over for a visit. She was on her way here now. Judith wasn’t sure she was up for company, but it was nice of her to come. Betty had mentioned talking with Stan on the phone. For a moment, Judith entertained the thought that Stan had noticed how sad she was and asked Betty to call. Then another thought came: When pigs fly.

  Walking to the kitchen, Judith took inventory of her situation. She had the energy to put on a fresh pot of coffee for Betty, but that was it. That and the pumpkin pie. She had already finished the slice she had eaten after Stan left. That was almost two hours ago. It was high time for another. That pie had been the closest she’d come to feeling joy all day. Perhaps a bigger slice would cause the sensation to last a little longer.

  She set the coffee brewing and put the pie slices on dessert plates. An image flashed into her mind, causing a glance toward the boxes of Christmas decorations on the table. Should she bother? She had a set of Christmas plates in one of those containers. She’d purchased them in one of Mount Dora’s downtown antique shops about ten years ago. Genuine Jamestown china, the saleswoman had said, as if that should mean something. Judith had just fallen in love with the holly-berry pattern, and they were surprisingly affordable.

  Why not? She fetched the pie plates out of the container and carried them to the opposite end of the table. A moment later, Betty’s car pulled into the driveway.

  Judith was suddenly aware of how quiet the house was. Maybe she should turn on the radio. Her favorite FM station started playing Christmas music the day after Thanksgiving. She walked up to the radio, then changed her mind. She wasn’t in a Christmas mood, not even close. No sense pretending for Betty’s sake.

  Instead, she walked back to the kitchen and checked on the coffee’s progress. The last few drips were making their way into the pot. As she pulled a couple of mugs out of the cabinet, the doorbell rang.

  “Come on in, Betty,” she yelled through the open windows. “It’s unlocked.” The screen door then the front door both opened and closed. “I’m in here, just getting the coffee ready.” Judith knew how Betty liked it. “There are two slices of pie sitting on the table.”

  “My goodness, Judith. They’re both way too big.”

  “Well, just eat what you can.”

  “Oh, I’m gonna eat the whole thing. But it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t complain.”

  Judith laughed. Betty could always make her laugh. She poured the coffee and brought the mugs out.

  “Are we supposed to eat this pie with our hands? I’m okay with that. It’ll still taste the same.”

  “I’m sorry,” Judith said. “I’m not thinking straight today.” She walked back to the kitchen and grabbed some forks.

  “A little birdy told me you were feeling kind of down.”

  Judith handed her a fork, then sat by the other slice of pie.

  “Judging by these unopened containers lying around here with ‘Christmas’ written on the sides and that Christmas tree over there in the corner without any ornaments, I’m guessing you’re having a little trouble getting in the Christmas spirit.”

  Judith nodded and continued chewing. When she finished, she said, “I suppose I’ll get there eventually. I’m guessing you got your decorating done already.”

  Betty finished a sip of coffee. “Got most of it done on Monday. Like we always do. The first day of Thanksgiving week. Our family likes to see the house all done up by Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “That’s nice.”

  Betty seemed to realize what she’d said. “I’m sorry, put my foot in it, didn’t I? That’s what’s eating you. None of the kids coming home yesterday.”

  Judith nodded, ate another forkful of pie.

  “No, none of them made it home yesterday, and now . . .” She didn’t mean to, but she started choking up. “Now none of them are able to make it home for Christmas either.”

  Betty reached over and patted the top of her hand. “Hence, the oversized slices of pie,” she said.

  Judith smiled, took another bite, then looked up at Betty. “I hope you understand, I’m not jealous of you having all your family home and around the dinner table yesterday. I’m glad you and Barney got to do that, and that y’all got to make another year of memories, especially with your grandkids.”

  “I know that, Judith.”

  She looked down at what was left of her pie. “It was just so hard having me and Stan at the table by ourselves. The time just crawled by. Instead of laught
er and listening to the grandkids’ stories and updates, the most memorable sound was Stan’s fork clanking on the plate.”

  “I’m sorry.” Just then, Betty’s fork clanked on the plate. “For that too.”

  Judith scooped up her last bite of pie. “I was comforting myself with the notion that at least I had Christmas to look forward to. Then after I talked with the kids on the phone, that got ripped away too.”

  Betty sipped her coffee. “You know what the problem is, don’t you? You and Stan pushed your kids a tad too hard in school, and then you went and set aside all that money for college. They got smart and became successful. And your daughters married successful college graduates. They all got good jobs but had to move to bigger cities.”

  Judith smiled. Give Betty an A for effort. The truth was, Judith had actually wondered the very same thing yesterday—during one of those long, dull moments sitting alone with Stan at the table. Betty had joked like this before, pointing out how educated and successful Judith’s kids were. As if Betty were jealous. The truth was, Betty’s kids were anything but dumb and they all seemed pretty successful.

  Today, Judith felt like the joke was on her.

  6

  After they ate their pie, Judith poured them both another cup of coffee, and they moved into the living room. Betty glanced at the tree, barren except for the lights, then at the three boxes stacked on the coffee table. “I’m guessing these are the ornaments?”

  “What’s left of them,” Judith said. She spun the boxes around so the handwritten label could be seen from the couch. “We used to have two more, bigger than these, back when we had a full-sized tree. I gave those to Suzanne when she moved to Fort Worth. I kept all the ornaments I really cared about.”

  Betty leaned toward the boxes. “What’s that say?” She pointed to the middle one. “The Ugly Ornaments? What in the world is that?”