Christmas at Saddle Creek

by Shelley Peterson

  “I got them done in Orangeville. I’m glad you like them.”

  “I sure do!”

  “Mrs. Pierson, I’m sorry. I didn’t get you anything for Christmas. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “Bird, dear. You saved my life last night. Is there a bigger gift than life?”

  Bird found she had a lump in her throat and couldn’t say a word. She hugged this little old lady whom she so cherished.

  Hannah started working on a cheese platter. She asked Bird to get the best cutlery and the Christmas napkins and plates organized and to set the table in the dining room. “Don’t forget the Menorah, Bird.”

  “I won’t. I’ll put it on the sideboard like always.” It had been a family tradition to pay tribute to their Jewish family and friends celebrating Chanukah for as long as Bird could remember. “Where is everybody?” she asked, as she began her task.

  “Paul went to pick up Grandma Jean, and Eva is lying down before dinner. Guess where Julia is?”

  Bird laughed. “Watching The Muppet Christmas Carol!”

  “Good guess,” smiled Hannah. Watching that old film was a tradition for Julia each year, and she hadn’t missed it once.

  Since he’d entered the room, Stuart hadn’t taken part in the conversation and had sat in silence at the round kitchen table. He appeared pensive, with frown lines on his forehead.

  Finally, Mrs. Pierson decided to ask. “Tell us what’s on your mind, Stuart, dear. How can we help?”

  “I’m not sure you can,” he answered.

  Mrs. Pierson tilted her head and smiled gently. “Give us the chance.”

  “Okay.” Stuart inhaled and chose his words carefully. “Is Christmas always like this for Eva?”

  Hannah and Bird stopped moving. “Again?” Hannah asked.

  “Let me put it a different way,” he said. “Is Eva always like this at Christmas?”

  “I’d like to pretend I don’t know what you mean, but I do,” answered Hannah.

  “I definitely know what you mean,” nodded Bird.

  “I don’t.” Mrs. Pierson looked from face to face. “Like what?”

  Stuart slumped in his chair. “Emotional.”

  Bird added, “Tempestuous, selfish, childish, mean.”

  “Bird!” Then Hannah sighed. “Don’t forget loud.”

  “Loud?” asked Mrs. Pierson. “Please tell me what you’re talking about.”

  Hannah answered. “Loud, as in she’s always upset about something. It’s hard to explain. There’s an element of this behaviour at other times, too, but at Christmas it’s much more accentuated.” She looked at Stuart. “I don’t mean to offend you or make you defensive, but you asked. I love Eva.”

  Stuart clasped his hands together and put his elbows on the table. “I love her, too. I always defend her and stand up for her. But we’re family here. I want to know how to help.”

  “That’s really good of you,” said Hannah.

  “But dumb.” Bird felt her insides harden. “No matter what you do, she’ll never change. That’s just who she is.”

  Stuart very quietly said, “I keep hoping the best of her will shine. I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

  “Oh, Stuart, dear,” said Mrs. Pierson. “You mustn’t say things like that. You must keep trying.”

  Stuart pursed his lips. “I hear you, Mrs. Pierson. And I do keep trying. But she pushes me away and won’t let me help her. You know this, Bird. Some things she says are hard to forgive.”

  “There’s a reason why she’s had so many men in her life,” said Bird bluntly. “Nobody stays for long.”

  “Bird!” exclaimed Hannah and Mrs. Pierson together.

  Stuart reacted. “No, no. I’m not going to leave her, Bird. It’s that I don’t know what to do. I need advice. She won’t listen when I try to help. She gets mad.” He looked down at his clasped hands.

  Hannah asked, “What happened this time?”

  Stuart paused, and said, “She had a … meltdown at my school’s Christmas party.”

  “And you’re the principal,” said Bird. “You must have been embarrassed.”

  “Well, more sad, actually. People don’t know what to make of her and tend to judge her badly. She’s her own worst enemy.”

  “What happened at the party?” asked Hannah. “Or do I want to know?”

  “Let me guess,” answered Bird. “She got drunk and started making passes at all the men in the room?”

  Stuart fidgeted. “Now, Bird. It wasn’t that bad. She drank a bit more than she should’ve and began to, er, dance around the room.”

  “See!” exclaimed Bird. “That’s exactly what I said! She’ll never change. That’s disgusting.”

  “Bird, dear,” Mrs. Pierson reprimanded. “Your mother might have problems but she’s still your mother.”

  Bird stared at her, tears streaming down her face. “You have no idea, do you? If it were only at Christmas, I could get over it. But she gets upset about little things all the time. Or not, which is very confusing. Maybe you don’t remember, but she convinced one of her boyfriends that I wasn’t her child! She dumped me here like a bag of garbage!”

  Hannah came to Bird’s side. “Honey, please don’t cry. Everybody’s on your team, here.”

  “It sure doesn’t seem like it!”

  “I’m sorry, dear!” blurted Mrs. Pierson. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Bird wasn’t finished. “And you’re right, Stuart. It’s always way worse at Christmas. She’s wrecked every Christmas I can remember. I hate Christmas.”

  Bird turned to storm out of the room, but was bumped back when the hall door swung open, heralding the sudden entrance of Eva. She stood at the door frame in a model’s pose, with her head tilted, chin up, one knee bent in front of the other and one shoulder back.

  Silence. Each of them wondered how much Eva had heard, and they waited for the temper tantrum.

  Instead, Eva smiled gaily and plopped herself on Stuart’s lap. She rearranged her sassy red satin dress and crossed one leg over the other, showing her red lace slip. Her tall heels were scarlet red, and her shiny lipstick was the same shade. She cooed, “I had a wonderful nap and dressed for dinner. I’m all refreshed.”

  “Good, good!” said Stuart, astonished. “You look wonderful.”

  “Wonderful!” gushed Hannah.

  “How lovely, dear,” chimed in Mrs. Pierson.

  Bird glared at each person, one by one. “You’re all afraid of her, aren’t you. I’m going upstairs to shower.”

  “About time!” chortled Eva. “You stink like the barn, and your hair is filthy. Scrub yourself, Bird, or nobody will sit beside you at dinner.” She thought she was quite amusing, and she threw back her head and laughed. Then, in a confidential tone, she added, “I can’t do ­anything with that girl!”

  Bird looked directly at Mrs. Pierson. “Are you beginning to get the picture?” With that, she turned and left the room.

  She went directly upstairs and closed her door. There had never been a good Christmas to date, and this was just like all the rest. Why was this one, solitary day in every year set up to be such a big deal? she wondered. Who was happy at Christmas, anyway? Perfect people with perfect families? Did they even exist? The entire concept of Christmas was designed to point out any imperfection in your life. Bah, humbug.

  Paul’s truck came to a stop at the front door. From her upstairs window, Bird watched her grandmother get out of the truck with Paul’s assistance. George, Grandma Jean’s second husband, couldn’t come. His daughter from his first marriage was celebrating Christmas with him. George’s daughter did not get along with Jean — at all — so this was a good solution.

  Grandma Jean was Hannah and Eva’s mother, and Bird could vaguely see the family resemblance. Her pale blond hair was stiff with spray, and h
er black mink was draped elegantly around her slim build. Her feet were encased in soft leather boots, and under her arm she held her black clutch purse and leather shoe bag. Grandma Jean had style, Bird noted. Too bad she never had fun.

  Her Grandma Jean held very high standards of et­iquette for everybody around her, but the standards she held for herself were the highest of all. Bird had never heard her burp, let alone “pass wind.” Bird mouthed, “fart.”

  Paul gallantly led Jean through the front door. Bird heard him shout, “Grandma Jean’s here!” followed by the whump of the big, old door closing behind them.

  Just then Julia peeked her head around the door frame of Bird’s room. “Hey. Going down?”

  “I’ll be a few minutes,” Bird answered. “I need a shower.”

  “I’ve got something for you.” Julia giggled as she handed Bird a long, narrow box wrapped in Christmas paper. “I really hope you like it.”

  “And I’ve got something for you, too.” Bird smiled and dug a small, brightly coloured bag out of her backpack.

  “Let’s open them together,” suggested Julia. “This is so exciting!”

  Bird tore open the package to find a belt with tiny silver horseshoes and bits glued to it. “Awesome, Julia! I love it!”

  At the same time, Julia held up the pair of long, thin socks covered in pictures of horses that Bird had given her, to be worn under riding boots. “Thanks, Bird! I’ll be so cool!”

  The girls gave each other a happy hug.

  “Merry Christmas,” said Bird, then pushed her away to take a better look at her sister. “What the heck are you wearing, Julia?”

  Julia turned slowly around to show Bird her outfit. “It’s my Christmas present. Mom made me promise to wear it. Is it horrible?”

  “Yes.” Bird’s eyes took in the slinky red polyester jumpsuit with floppy frills on the plunging neckline. Julia’s earrings were large white Christmas bells with red holly berries, with matching barrettes, which wouldn’t stay put in her straight, thin hair. On her feet she wore red ballet slippers, and a red furry boa scarf was wrapped around her neck. Tufts of red fluff floated down every time she moved.

  “Yes,” Bird repeated. “Horrible. And groom your boa.”

  “It’s vintage. I think I’m allergic. What did she give you?”

  “Nothing. And looking at you, I’m glad.”

  “Should I change? The truth, Bird?”

  “The truth is, it doesn’t matter. It’s only family.”

  “But, should I be a rebel and wear something else?”

  “Are you comfortable in that?”

  “Totally — if I don’t look in the mirror.”

  Bird and Julia laughed, then said in unison, “Then don’t look in the mirror!” as Julia flounced out the door.

  Once Bird had had her shower, she felt a lot better. She hated to admit it, but her mother had been right about her filth. In her defence, she’d been up all night rescuing Mrs. Pierson and Cody in the storm. She’d earned her grime.

  Bird vowed to keep her cool at dinner for Hannah’s sake. Her aunt had worked hard to make this dinner a success. Even if Eva made her crazy, she would behave herself.

  Still, it was tempting to have a little fun at Eva’s expense. Bird looked through her wardrobe and cast her eyes around the room. The red sheets on her bed jumped out at her, and she made a decision. If red was the colour of the day, so be it. At least it wasn’t pink.

  Bird was ready. She silently entered the living room and waited to be noticed. The party was in full force. Jean was complacently nursing her second martini. Stuart and Paul were pouring wine for the guests and passing bowls of cashews. Cliff was sitting with Mrs. Pierson, chatting about the old days and memories of Pete. Hannah was bringing in condiments and readying the table for dinner. Eva was fixing Julia’s hair because the barrettes kept sliding out.

  “I’m fine without them, Mom,” said Julia patiently.

  “The outfit needs them. They’re the finishing touch.”

  Julia was the first to see Bird. “Holy moly!”

  Bird struck the same pose that Eva had done earlier, with her chin up, her legs bent and one shoulder back. It was trickier than she expected, and she had a bit of trouble balancing on the sparkly gold heels she’d found in her mother’s room.

  Bird had fashioned the red sheet from her bed into a toga, with her left shoulder bare, and clinched it at the waist with Julia’s Christmas belt. She’d pinned the red pillow­case into a turban and dragged a red bath towel behind her like a fur coat in an old movie. The finishing touch, aside from Eva’s excessively high heels, was a red chiffon scarf that she’d found at the bottom of Eva’s suitcase, which she’d tied in an enormous bow beneath her chin.

  “Bird, you look ridiculous! Get upstairs this minute!” gasped Eva. “Oh, my good gold shoes! Get them off now! I said NOW!” She was red in the face and bellowing. “You’ll ruin them!”

  Bird ignored her as she did the model strut into the middle of the room and turned to show all sides of her ensemble.

  Stuart went to calm Eva, but she threw off his attempt. “Get away from me!”

  Jean stood up unsteadily. “Eva. Keep your voice down. You sound like a fishwife. Where’s the ladies’ room?”

  Cliff began to chuckle until Hannah shushed him. “This is not funny, Cliff. Dinner is ready, and now we’ve got trouble.”

  “Trouble?” exclaimed Mrs. Pierson. “My dear, there’s no amount of trouble that can’t be solved with a nice chiffon scarf.” She squinted at Bird, unsure of what she was seeing. “That is chiffon, isn’t it, dear? How glamorous.”

  “Oh my gawd! That’s my good chiffon scarf!” Eva lunged at Bird with intent, but was accidentally blocked by Grandma Jean as she stumbled to the washroom. The two women fell to the ground, shrieking with the shock.

  Eva got back up quickly. Her dress had slipped off her shoulders to reveal lacy undergarments. She angrily straightened her scarlet dress and puffed her hair back into place.

  Bird’s eyes grew huge, and she covered her mouth with her hands. This was way more exciting than she could have hoped for.

  Cliff howled with laughter, unable to contain it any longer. “This is hilarious! Is it a Christmas tradition, like a pantomime?”

  Hannah stepped into the room nervously. Paul noticed her distress and rushed to her side. He took her arm. “It’s a joke, Hannah. Bird wanted to get Eva’s goat, and she succeeded.”

  “Should I put dinner on the table?” she asked him. “The potatoes will get cold.”

  Jean was having trouble getting to her feet and reached out to Eva. “Help me up,” she demanded.

  “Clumsy cow,” Eva muttered, refusing to help her mother.

  “W-what did you call me?” Jean stuttered in disbelief.

  “You knocked me over!” Eva snapped back.

  “Not on purpose, you little tramp,” Jean retorted bitterly. “Someone! Give me a hand!”

  “You called me a tramp? Really?”

  “You called me a cow!”

  “You’re jealous, admit it!” Eva yelled. She pointed her finger at Jean as she struggled on the floor. “You’ve always been jealous! I was Daddy’s favourite girl, not you!”

  The oddness of that remark silenced the room.

  Bird slowly untied the chiffon scarf and slipped off the shoes. She had not intended to ruin the party.

  Eva looked like she’d seen a ghost.

  Hannah spoke up. In the stillness, she asked, “What are you saying, Eva?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know, Hannah. Except that … except I think it’s true.”

  Stuart approached Eva, but didn’t touch her. “Honey, let’s sit down. You need to take a minute.”

  Eva nodded and let Stuart guide her to the settee, where she plunked down limply. Stuart sat beside he
r. Eva put her head on his shoulder.

  Paul helped Grandma Jean to her feet. She was rattled. He walked slowly with her to the washroom.

  Cliff whispered, “Hannah? I’m sorry. I thought it was a thing, a Christmas thing, or something.” Because nobody else was making a sound, his voice sounded loud.

  “Don’t worry, Cliff. We’re all at sea. But we can’t let it ruin Christmas.” Hannah straightened her shoulders and spoke loudly. “Okay! Dinner is served! Come to the table. Julia wrote out lovely name cards, so please find your seats.”

  Everybody stood up and obediently headed to the dining room. Nobody spoke.

  In the confusion, Bird dashed upstairs. She fell on her bed. What was that all about? she wondered.

  Something close to honesty was at hand, and Bird’s nose for truth was twitching.

  5

  Revelation

  Deck the halls with boughs of holly,

  Fa la la la la, la la la la …

  By the time Bird reappeared in her sweater and jeans, all the guests were seated at the table. She slipped into the only vacancy, in the chair between Stuart and Jean.

  Hannah had pasted her “company” smile on to her face as she placed bowls of steaming vegetables on the table. Julia was busy helping her, while Paul carved the turkey.

  “Who likes dark and who likes white?” he asked heartily.

  Jean raised her wine glass. “Red or white, I don’t care! Who’s pouring?”

  Bird watched her grandmother with interest. Jean drank heavily, but not usually when there were ­witnesses. Normally, she would behave herself impeccably, then go home to get wasted.

  Stuart dutifully filled her glass.

  “I like dark meat, thanks,” answered Bird. “But first, may I please apologize?”

  All eyes turned to her.

  “I only meant to have a laugh, when I got all dressed up in red like Mom and Julia, I mean. And what I didn’t mean was for anybody’s feelings to be hurt or for anybody to fall down.”