by Dan Walsh
“I’ve seen ’em,” Stan said.
“She was eyeing some of those lit-up little buildings and those ones with moving parts, like kids ice-skating or skiing down little snowy hills.”
Stan looked at Judith. “Were they too expensive?”
Judith shrugged. “I didn’t even look at the prices.”
“Some of them are, the bigger pieces,” Betty said. “But I saw quite a few that were probably a lot less than what you boys spent at Bass Pro Shop.”
The boys gave her a look. Judith knew that look. They didn’t want this conversation to go any deeper. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not planning on starting any fancy collection. I just thought they were interesting to look at. Like something in a museum.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Stan said.
The hostess came up and announced, “If you’ll follow me, your table is ready.”
The dinner conversation was pleasant enough, but to Stan, Judith seemed pretty distant. Several times during idle moments when everyone else was eating, Stan would catch her staring out the window, her fork stuck in her dish of ropa vieja. He thought about asking her what she was thinking about, but he figured he already knew. What’s Suzanne doing right now in Fort Worth? Or Anna in Virginia? Brandon out in Denver? What kind of day are the grandkids having . . . without me, and so far away? He wished she would snap out of it. There wasn’t anything either of them could do to fix it.
Darkness was setting in outside. He looked at his watch.
“I was thinking,” Barney said, “we better start wrapping things up in here. They’ll be turning the Christmas lights on in a few minutes.”
Stan could see the people on the sidewalks all moving in the same direction, heading to Donnelly Park. Looking at Judith’s plate, he said, “You want to get a container for that?”
She looked down. Her food, barely touched. “Yes, that would be nice.”
He signaled for the waitress, and she brought the check. He asked for a container; they only needed one.
“Looks like a lot more people in town than last year,” Betty said.
“A lot of the bigger Florida cities don’t have the kind of small-town Christmas traditions we have around here. I think folks that moved down from up north kind of miss that, and word is catching on.”
After paying their bill and leaving a tip, they made their way out to the sidewalk to join everyone else heading for the Light Up ceremony.
When they reached the park, as expected, a crowd had already gathered to watch the Christmas-themed entertainment and listen to the music. The program had begun forty-five minutes ago. That was the time they used to arrive when the kids were here. Betty had suggested they skip the first part and eat instead, thinking it would minimize the memories of years past.
Maybe it helped some, but not much. As soon as they arrived, Judith kept noticing one family after another sitting together on chairs and blankets. Grandparents sitting near their married children, holding their fidgety grandchildren, faces all turned to take in the live show.
“I see a clear spot over there,” Barney said. He led the way.
The size of the crowd and the chill in the air drew them closer than they would normally stand. It was almost completely dark now, just a thin rim of burnt-orange light remaining in the western sky.
A few minutes more and the final singer of the night ended her last Christmas carol. The crowd applauded. They watched as the mayor stepped forward and said a few appropriate holiday words. Then it was time to officially “flip the switch.”
Judith’s eyes fixed on the surrounding trees in the park. Suddenly, the entire downtown area lit up with the glow of two million sparkling Christmas lights and several thousand cheers and ooh-ahs. Then more applause.
“So beautiful,” Betty said.
“It never gets old,” Barney said.
“Now, aren’t you glad you came?” Stan asked Judith.
“It really is nice,” she said. And she felt that way right up until she saw a young woman standing a few yards in front of her, rocking a stroller. From behind, she looked just like Suzanne. The same hair color, the same hairstyle. Wearing a pink jacket similar to one she had bought Suzanne. The toddler in the stroller, a little girl with curly blonde hair, just about the same age as her granddaughter, Brianna.
The resemblance was so keen that for a moment Judith could imagine it really was Suzanne and Brianna. So close she could reach out and touch them. The young woman turned to look at the lights down the street, instantly ending the fantasy.
14
It was Sunday. Judith had made it through church okay.
She walked out into the parking lot, Stan by her side. She was pretty sure when she had shaken the pastor’s hand by the front door—judging by his smile—he wouldn’t have been too happy to hear her describe her condition as “made it through.” After all the work he had likely put into that sermon, he probably would have hoped to lift her spirits to someplace higher than just “okay.”
But he had accomplished a great deal, considering that when she had woken up this morning, she had no desire to go to church and seriously considered staying home.
“Want to go out and grab a bite to eat?” Stan asked when they reached the car. “I’m buying.”
She smiled. “We could. I’ve got those bass you caught Friday morning ready to cook. I don’t mind going home and doing that.”
“Maybe we’ll have those later on for supper. I’m kind of ready to eat now.”
She actually was a little hungry today, and she sure didn’t mind putting off work a little longer. “I’ll go wherever you drive.”
“How about we go over to that Chinese buffet? I’m kind of in the mood for Chinese.”
“Sounds good.”
He clicked the button on the keychain, the car doors unlocked, and they got in. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he said, “Since we just came out of church, I’ve got a confession to make.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve got an ulterior motive for taking you out just now. I’m kind of hoping that between the inspiration of church and not having to make dinner, you might have enough energy to do some Christmas decorating at the house this afternoon. We don’t have to do it all up like we’ve done in years past. I know that would be a bridge too far. But what do you think? You want to try?”
She really didn’t, but it sounded like he was offering to help her. He’d never helped her decorate before. “The way you’re talking, it almost sounds like you’re doing it with me.”
“I am. So, what do you think?”
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
They got home from the Chinese buffet about an hour later. Judith put some coffee on, and they both changed into more relaxing clothes. She actually felt a little stuffed, even though she had eaten only one plate of food. That old saying that if you eat Chinese you’ll be hungry an hour later didn’t seem to apply to buffet food.
She walked into the kitchen to find Stan cutting himself a slice of pumpkin pie. She couldn’t believe it. He had gone back for seconds at the buffet. “I couldn’t even think about eating pie right now.”
“I love Chinese but not their desserts. So, I left a little room. How long before that coffee is ready?”
“I think it’s ready now,” she said. “Can you get out two mugs?” She fixed her coffee and started walking toward the Florida room. She heard Stan’s footsteps behind her.
“Where are you going?”
She stopped and turned. “What do you mean, where am I going? In here, to drink my coffee.”
“I thought we were going to do some decorating together.”
He was serious. “Don’t you want to eat your pie first?”
“That’ll take me two minutes.”
“Let me get this straight . . . you’re really planning on helping?”
“Well, yeah. That’s what together means. You might have to help me some, to know where things go. It’s not like I’ve got too much pract
ice.”
“Not too much, eh?”
“Okay, I’ve got no practice. You and the kids used to do all this while Barney and I went fishing.”
She wished he hadn’t reminded her about that.
“So . . . are you gonna stay out here and help me, or do I have to do this all by myself?”
That was a sight she’d like to see. “I guess I could help some. Can I finish my coffee first?”
“Sure. I just figured if you went in the Florida room, I’d lose you for good.”
They sat where they always did in the living room. He wasn’t kidding about finishing his pie in two minutes. Her eyes moved back and forth between the stack of containers on the dining room table and the three boxes of ornaments on the coffee table in front of her. Normally, she would set out all the decorations around the house then work on the tree. Not that it mattered now.
“Where do you want to start?” Stan said.
“I was just thinking about that. Do you want to do one and I’ll do the other? Maybe you should start on the tree since you don’t know where any of the decorations go.”
He walked his empty pie plate out to the kitchen counter, then came back and stood in front of the boxes of ornaments. “I was thinking we were going to do this together. It shouldn’t take too long, right? We don’t have to put everything up if you don’t want.” He opened the flap of the box on top. “Which one is this?” He leaned the box forward and read his own writing. “The ugly ornaments. I remember these.”
“Could we not start with them?” She stood and walked toward the dining room table. “Let’s start with the house decorations. That’s the order I’m used to. We’ll set these out, then work on the tree.”
“Sounds good.”
He said this with an uncharacteristic amount of enthusiasm. She pulled the lid off the first container.
“Snowmen,” he said as he got closer. “Where do they go?”
She looked down and began to sort through them with her fingers. Must be twenty of them in here, all different shapes and sizes. Each one occupied a specific place in the house, and she knew exactly where they belonged. “Tell you what, since we’re breaking all our traditions this year, just put them up wherever it suits you. Just remember—” Then she stopped. She was just about to tell Stan to put any made of ceramic on the higher shelves, out of the reach of their grandkids’ little fingers. But that didn’t matter now. None of her grandchildren would be here reaching for things they shouldn’t touch. “Just make sure they’re not too close to the edge. Since we leave the windows open most of December, the door tends to slam.”
“I can do that.” He held out his hands. “Fill ’em up with snowmen.”
So she did, then picked up two handfuls herself and joined in. Try as she might to break tradition, she wound up placing every single snowman in its previously assigned place. It took about ten minutes. Then they worked through the rest of the container, laying out the angels, then the reindeer and elves.
As she got ready to open the lid on the second container, Stan set the small handful of Christmas elves he’d been holding in an upholstered chair and came over. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Nothing. I just want to see what’s in the next one.”
“You have something against elves?”
“No.” He didn’t say anything more, and he didn’t go back to finish with the elves. He just stood there wearing an odd smile. “Well, aren’t you going to open it?”
She turned around and took off the lid. At first, she didn’t see anything unusual. Just an assortment of familiar-looking Christmas decorations. She looked at him over her shoulder. He was staring into the container at a certain spot. Her eyes traced the direction until she was looking at the same place. That’s when she noticed it. A plastic store bag wrapped tightly around a white box. It was the only unfamiliar thing in the container. Lifting it out, she said, “What did you do?”
“Just open it.”
As soon as she saw the bag unfurled, she guessed what it was. Lifting the box out confirmed it. “You didn’t have to do that.” It was a little ceramic house from the Dickens Christmas village she had been looking at with Betty yesterday.
“I know I didn’t,” he said. “I wanted to do something to cheer you up. Just think of it as an early Christmas present.”
She took it carefully out of the box, spun it around slowly in her hands, then set it on the table. It was just as cute as she remembered from the store. She turned around and gave Stan a hug, and he hugged her back. “That was a sweet thing to do.” She couldn’t remember the last time he’d bought her something as a surprise. She squeezed him a little tighter before letting go.
“Now you can start that collection.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she really was serious about not doing that. Instead, she said nothing and walked the little house to a safe spot on the mantel above the fireplace.
For the next fifteen minutes, they continued to make their way through the other decorations. At one point, Judith stopped to get her cell phone to sneak in a few pics of Stan spending all kinds of time getting the nativity scene just right. She wasn’t sure he’d ever even looked at it before now. Anna and Suzanne had to see this.
When they’d finished the second container, Stan was about to open the third, but she said, “I think we’ve done enough decorating, don’t you?”
He stood, scratched his chin, and surveyed the scene. “Yeah, I guess we have. Let’s work on the tree.”
He walked to the coffee table; she followed behind. The house definitely looked more Christmassy, but it still hadn’t impacted her inside. It was pleasant but carried no more weight than the decorations downtown.
Stan opened the ugly ornaments box and pulled out the top three ornaments, the ones wrapped in green paper, the kids’ favorites, and set them on the coffee table. He picked up the first one, the biggest one—Anna’s blue pinecone—and began to unwrap it.
Without thinking, she walked up, stopped him, and gently took it out of his hand. She wrapped it back up, set it carefully in the box. Then picked up the other two ornaments, put them in the box, and closed the flaps.
“What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”
“I don’t think I can do this.”
“Do what? Decorate the tree?”
She nodded.
“We just gonna leave it like that? Just the lights, no ornaments?”
“No, I guess not. But I don’t want to put up these ornaments, the ones the kids made. Especially those three, the ones wrapped in green. Those were their favorites. I don’t think I could bear to look at them every day until Christmas.”
“Are you okay with using the other two boxes then?”
“I guess we could do that. Just not ones from this box.”
“What do you want me to do with it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe put it back in the attic. It makes me too sad to look at it.”
15
The next morning around nine thirty, Judith walked into the living room wearing her sneakers, shorts, and a light sweatshirt. She was about to meet Betty in the driveway for a walk. Betty worked part-time at Hobby Lobby but didn’t go in till after lunch today. She’d called about thirty minutes ago, more or less telling Judith it was far too nice a morning to waste it by staying indoors. They should take a walk, which Betty was certain would do Judith a world of good.
Besides, she’d said, she had something she wanted to talk to Judith about, and a walk would give her the perfect opportunity.
Judith wished Betty had left that last part out of the conversation, because now she kept trying to figure out what it could be. She stepped on the throw rug in the middle of the room and began a few stretching exercises. As she did, she noticed the little Christmas village house Stan had surprised her with yesterday sitting on the fireplace mantel. She still couldn’t believe Stan had done that.
She finished her exercises, walked over, and picked it
up. Actually, it wasn’t the one she’d had her eye on at the store. It was the piece behind it. But that didn’t matter. It was the thought, and still, it was very cute. She wished it could have served the purpose he’d intended. It had made her smile several times yesterday and made her feel a little more loved than usual. But she could tell Stan had hoped it would set her firmly on a path out of this depression she’d fallen into. She wished it had.
Her cell phone chimed, signaling a text. It was Betty, saying she was out in the driveway. Judith put the little house back in its place, shoved her cell phone in her pocket, and headed out the front door.
“This weather is perfect,” Betty said.
It really was. Maybe the fresh air would do her some good. They had taken walks so many times before, neither one needed to lead the way.
“I heard you finally decorated the house yesterday,” Betty said.
“How did you hear that? Did Stan call you?”
“Let’s just say . . . he and I talked.”
Judith thought a minute. “So, it was your idea. What Stan did. The Christmas house, helping me decorate.”
“Okay, it was. But as soon as I suggested it, he actually liked the idea. So, did he wind up doing both things?”
They reached the corner and turned right. “Yes, he did,” Judith said. She replayed how Stan had pulled off the surprise.
“That sounds almost romantic,” Betty said. “So, did he help you decorate the tree too?”
“Yes, he did.”
Betty looked at Judith. “But you don’t seem like it did the trick. You still seem kind of down.”
Judith sighed. “I know. I kind of still am. I don’t want to be. I’m not trying to be. I really appreciate what you both did, conspiring to buy me that present yesterday. And it was nice decorating the house with Stan. That’s the first time we’ve done that since the kids were born.”
“But it didn’t fix what’s broken,” Betty said.
Judith shook her head no. “I wish it had.”
