Keeping Christmas

by Dan Walsh

  For a moment, just a moment, Judith pictured her two oldest granddaughters and how much they’d love these little houses. But then she remembered and shook her head no. “That’s nice of you to offer, Betty. But I don’t think so. Not this year.” She started walking toward the front door of the store. “Even if I did, who would ever see them?”

  11

  After leaving the store with the Christmas village displays, Judith and Betty had browsed through two others on the same side of the street. Judith’s mood was improving, at least somewhat. After coming out of the last store, Betty had turned to her and said, “Are you excessively diverted yet, my dear?” She laughed, admitting she and one of her daughters had watched a Jane Austen movie yesterday while the boys watched football.

  “I wouldn’t say excessively,” Judith replied. “Perhaps merely . . . diverted.”

  “I just love the way they talked back then,” Betty said. “They use words we never say anymore, but ones that fit perfectly in the situation.”

  Judith remembered one of her favorite quotes from Sense and Sensibility. She and Betty had watched it last month, for maybe the tenth time. “Remember what Colonel Brandon said in Sense and Sensibility when he was worrying about Marianne being so sick? ‘Give me an occupation, Miss Dashwood, or I shall run mad.’”

  “I do. And see? It fits perfectly. That’s what I’m doing here today, with you. You were stuck at home, brooding, going mad, and you needed an occupation. So I’ve given you one.”

  “I wasn’t exactly going mad.”

  “In a Jane Austen sort of way, you were,” Betty said. “The point is, you needed to get out of the house, get your mind on more pleasant things.” Betty looked across the street. They weren’t far from the intersection at 4th Avenue. “Like an afternoon caffè breve. I could use a little caffeine, how about you?”

  “I think a breve might bring me all the way to excessively diverted,” Judith said.

  Betty laughed. They watched for traffic, then jaywalked across the street when a safe gap opened up. Their favorite café was only one short block away.

  Betty looked at the line once they got inside. “I guess we weren’t the only ones who needed to be diverted.”

  Judith said it would be worth the wait. The line moved fairly quickly, but there were no tables left inside. “Do you want to sit for a spell or keep shopping? There’s still a few tables outside. I’m fine either way.”

  “You fix your breve,” Betty said, “and I’ll go get us a table.” Betty liked her drink just the way it came. “I want to keep shopping, but my feet could use a little rest.”

  When Judith came out to join her, Betty said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you about something. I’ve been thinking about it since we left that store with the little Christmas village display.”

  Judith sat down. “I don’t mind.” Of course, she was just being polite. She wouldn’t really know if she minded until she heard what Betty had to say.

  “It’s about you shutting down the idea of buying one of those Christmas houses. I think you said, ‘Who would ever see it?’”

  “Well, who would?” Judith said. “No one’s gonna be there during the holidays but Stan and me. I’m pretty certain he won’t care too much about it.”

  “But I could tell you really liked them. When was the last time you ever bought anything simply because you liked it? Because it made you happy?”

  Judith thought a moment. Nothing came to mind. She thought some more. Still, nothing.

  “See? That’s what I’m talking about. Your whole life, for a good long while now, has been centered on your kids and your grandkids. Even on Stan. But as long as I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you focus on yourself.”

  Judith took a sip. “That’s been kind of on purpose. Isn’t that the definition of being selfish? Focusing on yourself?”

  “I’m sure it can be,” Betty said. “If that’s all someone ever does, or if that’s their primary motivation. But that’s certainly not your case. If anything, you’re on the opposite end of the spectrum. You never focus on yourself. Your whole focus, for years now—really, decades—has been looking after other people. To the point where you feel guilty even thinking about doing something nice for yourself . . . even once.”

  Judith tried to process this. It did have a ring of truth to it.

  “Barney came home from the Bass Pro Shop yesterday with a couple of bags of fishing trinkets. I suppose Stan did too.”

  “He did.”

  “Did he apologize for that? ’Cause Barney didn’t apologize to me.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “And by the tone of your voice, you weren’t expecting an apology either. Neither was I. They didn’t feel guilty, and they weren’t guilty. Whatever money they spent, they spent on themselves. Now, if they had gone down there and spent so much money we couldn’t pay the bills or we ran out of food before the next payday, that would be a totally different thing. But that’s never happened, and I don’t see it happening anytime soon.”

  “No,” Judith said, “I see your point.”

  “And we won’t even talk about the amount of money they’ve saved up for that new boat they want to buy. Their dream rig. I don’t know what it’s up to now, but I know it’s several thousand dollars apiece.”

  “I suppose it is.”

  “The amount of money’s not really the point. The point is they’re not feeling guilty about it. Their focus is not on you or me, or the kids, or the grandkids. Of course, they like to talk about all the fun the family will have once they get it. But we both know, and they know too, that’s not why they’re buying that boat. It makes them happy, and we love them—such as they are—so we’re glad they’re happy. As long as they don’t go crazy, that is.”

  Betty was right. Stan’s fishing hobby had never bothered her that much. She felt like he worked hard, always had, and he’d never been extravagant with his purchases.

  “And there’s something else,” Betty continued. “Not only should you not feel any guilt if you do want to start collecting those little Christmas houses, you shouldn’t worry whether or not anyone else will see them. Even if you’re the only one who does . . . if you enjoy them, that matters. Of course, that’ll never happen. It’ll never be just you. I’ll come see it. Maybe I’ll even go in on it with you. It could be our hobby, like Stan and Barney’s fishing thing.”

  Judith smiled and took another sip of her breve. Betty was talking crazy, but still she enjoyed hearing her efforts to cheer her up.

  Betty set her coffee cup down. “So . . . are we going back?”

  “Going back where?”

  “To the first store, the one with the Christmas village.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What don’t you know? Your face lit up when we were in there.”

  “I’ll think about it. I thought they were cute. I did. I’m not sure I’m ready to adopt a full-fledged hobby just yet.”

  Betty stood. “Okay. Let’s walk through a few more stores, and you think about it. But think about this, while you’re at it. Hobbies like that are something you do a little each year, not all at once. I know the kids aren’t coming home this year, but who knows about next year or the year after that? Anything can happen.”

  12

  Stan arrived home from work shortly after five. It had been a long day working at Home Depot. He was semi-retired and normally only worked four hours a day. They had called him in early to help with the holiday rush. He hadn’t been on his feet for ten hours in a row for quite some time, and his legs ached.

  He knew Judith wasn’t going to be home. They’d spoken briefly on the phone right after Stan had clocked out. She was still shopping downtown with Betty. The plan was for him and Barney to hurry down there to meet the girls for dinner before the Light Up ceremony began at six thirty. He was looking forward to sitting in a restaurant booth, getting some time off his feet. He had decided to skip his shower but wanted to come home an
d change first, at least clean up a little.

  Stan was about ready to head out the door but stopped at the kitchen cabinet where they kept their over-the-counter meds to get some ibuprofen. He grabbed three of them, then walked through the living room and turned on a few lights. It would be dark out by the time they returned.

  He stood a moment and stared at the little Christmas tree, then looked down at the three boxes of ornaments on the coffee table. The top box looked like it had been moved a bit and messed with a little, but Judith still hadn’t put any ornaments on the tree. And the two containers of decorations were still unopened on the dining room table.

  Stan was starting to get a little concerned. He had seen her depressed before but never like this. When he had called her earlier from work, he was tired enough to suggest that she and Betty eat dinner downtown without him. Something told him not to, that he better go ahead and go. As he exited the house and locked the front door, he wondered if Judith’s time out with Betty had done her some good.

  If she couldn’t get into a Christmas mood after spending all that time in downtown Mount Dora during the opening holiday weekend, Stan didn’t know if anything could turn her around.

  Betty figured they had probably just walked into their final store of the day, considering their husbands were on their way to join them. Judith did seem to be doing a little better, but she still hadn’t shown any interest in going back to that first store and starting her Christmas village collection. The store they had just entered was called Crafts & Such. Betty always enjoyed this store.

  It looked like it could be one of those stores that sold only Christmas items year-round, judging by the inventory on display. But she’d been in here before. The store changed its stock to feature whatever new season was coming next. After Christmas, it would probably shift to Valentine’s Day. One whole section was devoted to handmade Christmas ornaments. Betty pointed them out to Judith and said, “They’re nice, but I don’t see any shrunken heads or shrieking ghosts.” Judith actually laughed.

  In the middle of the store, Betty picked up a cute reindeer made mostly from felt wrapped around an empty toilet paper roll. “I never knew there were so many different things people could turn into Christmas decorations.”

  “I know,” Judith said. “Look at these. They’re made from popsicle sticks.” She pointed at a basket filled with skinny wooden Santa Clauses, snowmen, elves, and reindeer.

  “I just passed a woman who works here,” Betty said. “I heard her talking to a customer. She said everything in here is handmade, even hand painted.”

  Judith turned one over. “I wonder where they’re made,” she said.

  They continued to browse for several more minutes. Betty went down another aisle and found a section of craft supplies toward the back of the store. Again, all of them seemed to feature Christmas themes. She also noticed she was the only one in this part of the store. Everyone else browsed through the already-made things in the front half of the store. As she looked at the items more closely, she realized these craft supplies resembled the already-made things up front. Maybe these were the raw materials to make them.

  “Are you interested in making things yourself?”

  Betty turned. A woman about her same age stood behind her, wearing a name badge that said Doris. “Oh no, I’m terrible at crafts. But my friend over there”—she pointed to Judith, who was still standing in the middle of the store—“she’s very talented. You know that big craft fair we have here in Mount Dora every October? I tell her every year she should set up a booth and sell the things she makes.”

  “We sell a lot of craft supplies,” the woman said. “But they’re not such big sellers year-round. The already-made crafts are, though. I’ve been thinking of shutting down this section to use the space for something else. I guess people are just too busy anymore to take the time to make things like this.”

  “Are you the store owner?” Betty asked.

  Doris nodded.

  “People are a lot busier now than they used to be,” Betty said. “And more women working outside the home than there used to be. You can see it in the grocery store. When I was first married, you only saw one or two racks of already-made dinners in the frozen food section.”

  “TV dinners, we called them.”

  Betty smiled. “Salisbury steak, peas, and flaky mashed potatoes, in little tin trays. But look at it now, they devote two whole aisles to premade meals. I still cook most of the time, but my husband and I’ve tried quite a few of those premade things. Some of them are pretty good.”

  “It’s a different world than when I got married,” Doris said. “Like Bob Dylan sang, the times they are a-changin’.”

  Betty looked down the aisle at Judith, who was holding a snowman made from an upside-down Styrofoam cup and ball. An idea suddenly popped into her mind. “Doris—may I call you Doris?”

  “By all means.”

  “Maybe the reason these do-it-yourself things aren’t selling very well isn’t just because people are so busy these days. What if it was something else? Something you can fix?”

  “Like what?”

  “I think it may have more to do with people not knowing how to make things from scratch anymore. People being busy is part of the problem, I’m sure. But what if it’s also that they wouldn’t know how to turn all these craft items into something fun all by themselves? Without anyone’s help?”

  “What are you suggesting?” Doris said.

  “See the woman I came in with?” She pointed to Judith.

  Doris nodded.

  “I happen to know that every year at Christmas when her kids were younger, they would make Christmas ornaments together, from scratch. She would come up with the ideas, buy all the stuff, then show them how to make it. She’s got a whole box of homemade Christmas ornaments at home. I just saw them yesterday. Some of them turned out absolutely hilarious. But it was clear to me they had a blast making them together, and they made some memories she still gets choked up about whenever she tells the story.”

  “You mean have a craft class here, making ornaments?”

  Betty nodded. “A mother-daughter class. They could make Christmas ornaments together. You could have them on Saturday mornings. To get more people in, you could offer the classes for free. Moms would just have to agree to buy the craft supplies from your store.”

  Doris thought a moment and looked down at all the craft supplies in front of her. A big smile came over her face. “I think that’s a great idea. Do you think your friend would do it? How much would she charge?”

  Betty looked at Judith. “I don’t know if she’ll do it. I just thought of the idea right now, but I can ask her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d do it as a volunteer.”

  “Really? You think so?”

  “I don’t know. If she says yes, are you interested?”

  “Definitely,” Doris said. “When could she start? Christmas isn’t that far away.”

  13

  Judith looked at her watch. They needed to get going. They were supposed to meet their husbands in five minutes at the little park on the corner of 4th Avenue and Alexander Street. She looked over at Betty, who had just waved good-bye to a store worker she had been talking to. Both women were smiling.

  “Do you see the time?” Betty said.

  They began walking toward the front door. “Yes. We don’t want to give the boys a reason to complain if we have to wait in line at the restaurant.” Stan hated waiting in line at restaurants. It was second only to his hatred of being stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

  “I thought we had reservations.”

  “We do,” Judith said. “But if we’re too late, we’ll lose them. What were you and that woman talking about?”

  “She’s the store owner,” Betty said as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. “I was just looking at all of the craft supplies. She was telling me how they don’t sell very well anymore. She said most people just buy the crafts already finished. I told her how y
ou always made Christmas ornaments from scratch with your kids all those years.”

  She looked like she had more to say, but she stopped talking as they crossed the street. When they arrived at the park, Barney was there but not Stan. Judith looked around and didn’t see him anywhere. She looked at Barney. “Have you seen Stan?”

  “Nope. But I just got here a few minutes ago myself.”

  Judith’s cell phone chimed, telling her she had a text. She pulled it out of her purse. It was Stan. “Here he is.” She read the message. “He said he’s running a few minutes late and will meet us at the restaurant. He’s almost there.”

  “Let’s go then,” Barney said. “There’s a lot more people ’round here than normal. If we miss our reservation, they’re likely to give our table away. Then we’d be stuck waiting for who knows how long.”

  It only took a few minutes to reach the restaurant. They had eaten there before, and Judith liked it. It specialized in Cuban cuisine.

  When they got to the front door, Barney said, “I’ll go see where things are at.” He gave the hostess their names, then came back and said with a tone of significant satisfaction, “We made it. Less than a five-minute wait.”

  The ladies sat on a small bench in the reception area. Barney stood next to Betty. Judith noticed a little Christmas tree on the counter, with looped red and silver garland tacked underneath. Christmas knickknacks sat along the windowsill.

  They did nothing for her.

  The front door opened, a little bell rang. It was Stan. He smiled at Judith, then looked at Barney. “We too late? Did we lose our reservation?”

  Barney shook his head. “She should be back here any minute to show us to our table.”

  Stan walked over and stood beside Judith. “So how’d your afternoon go? I don’t see any packages. Weren’t you guys shopping?”

  “Browsing mostly,” Judith replied.

  “I almost had her talked into something,” Betty said. “You know those cute little Christmas villages?”