by Dan Walsh
This wasn’t exactly how he wanted to use his one extended break for the day. He pulled out his cell phone as he neared the car. He clicked the button on his keychain, and the doors unlocked. Maybe he would just call them here, sitting in the car. He got in and rolled the front seat windows down, letting a nice breeze blow through. What were the chances he’d reach all three of them the first time he tried?
Calling the kids was more Judith’s thing. He was always amazed at how long she could talk with them on the phone and the things she’d come up with to talk about. Of course, he’d eventually get on for a few minutes. Talking with Brandon was the easiest. Brandon would want to brag about something he’d accomplished at work, and he didn’t mind listening to a few of Stan’s latest fish stories.
But this time, it was all on him. He’d be initiating the calls, and the subject wasn’t a pleasant one. In fact, he’d be doing something he didn’t really believe in: motivating his kids by guilt. Trying to, anyway. He decided to start with Anna first, since she was the oldest.
The phone rang a few times. “Hey, Dad, is everything all right?”
“’Course everything is all right. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You never call me,” Anna said.
She had a point. “Well, everything’s fine. Well, not fine. But nothing’s wrong. Well, something is wrong, just not serious.” Then again, it was kind of serious.
“Dad, what are you talking about?”
“It’s your mom.”
“What’s wrong with Mom?”
“You talked with her on Thanksgiving, couldn’t you tell?”
There was a pause. “I guess not. I don’t recall us talking about anything being wrong.”
“She was probably doing a good job of covering it up then.”
“Covering up what?”
“Can’t you guess?” he asked.
Another pause. “Do I have to? Can’t you just tell me? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something that offended her?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, though you did say something that . . . well, I guess it isn’t right to say you offended her. More like disappointed her. But in kind of a big way.”
“I disappointed her?” A few moments of silence. “You mean about Christmas, about not making it home for Christmas?”
“Bingo.”
“I guess that really upset her, huh?”
“Kinda did.”
“She didn’t let on that it bothered her.”
“Well, you know your mom. She’s not going to show something like that over the phone. She wouldn’t want to make you upset.”
“But I guess it must have, quite a lot. Or you wouldn’t be calling me.”
“She wouldn’t even decorate the house or the Christmas tree on Friday.”
“She wouldn’t?”
“I got the boxes down from the attic, went off fishing with Barney like I always do, came home to find them sitting right where I’d left them. And she didn’t touch them all day Saturday, either. I’m pretty sure she would’ve ignored them on Sunday, except I offered to help her put them up.”
“You decorated the house?”
“And the tree.” Stan thought about telling Anna about the little Christmas house he’d bought her mother but decided against it.
“That’s so sad,” Anna said.
“What? Me decorating?”
“No, that Mom’s doing so badly. I hate to think of her being so down.”
“She’s as down as I’ve ever seen her, Anna. Maybe more. She heard the same thing about not coming home for Christmas from your brother and sister when she called them.”
“Neither one of them is coming home for Christmas?”
“Nope. They both said they can’t afford it.”
“So no family home for Thanksgiving or Christmas,” Anna said.
“Nope. Except me. But no kids, and no grandkids either.” A pause. Stan waited a moment, wondered what he should say next.
“Poor Mom.”
That was good. That was a start.
“Did decorating the house and the tree help her mood any?”
“Not even a little,” Stan said. “In fact, she asked me to put away the ugly ornaments.”
“They’re cute, Dad. Not ugly.”
“Well, you know the ones I mean. She had me put them back up in the attic. Said she couldn’t bear to look at them.”
“Did she say it like she was mad or like she was hurt?”
“She’s not mad. She knows you love to come home for the holidays. And you would if you could. Which is why I’m calling, I guess. To make sure there’s no way you can come home. Is that a definite impossibility?” He looked at his watch to make sure he was doing okay on the time.
“I’m afraid so,” she said. “Bruce found out he isn’t getting his Christmas bonus this year. That’s what we’ve been using to come home with every year. They told the employees before the Thanksgiving holiday so they wouldn’t make any plans that depended on it.”
Stan sighed. That pretty much seemed like a closed door. “I’m sorry to hear that. But don’t worry about it. I still haven’t called your brother and sister. Maybe one of them will be able to come. I know you would if you could.”
“I really would, Dad. Money’s the only reason. Otherwise, we’d be there for sure.”
19
After his conversation with Anna, Stan had called his other two children but got voice mail for both. He took a few minutes to eat his tuna-fish sandwich. Every now and then, he checked his watch to make sure of the time.
Just as he popped the last bite into his mouth, his phone rang. It was Brandon. He chewed fast but answered before he’d finished.
“Hey, Dad. Got your message. What’s up? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Didn’t I say that on my voice message, that this wasn’t an emergency?”
“You did. But you also didn’t say what this is about, and you never call me, so I figured something must be up.”
That was true. Something was up. “Appreciate you calling me back so quick. I know you’re a busy man these days, so I’ll keep this short.” He figured the straight approach would work best for Brandon. “It’s about your mom. She’s not doing too well. Actually, she’s been more depressed the last few days than I’ve ever seen her.”
“She has? Do you know why?”
“Oh yeah. She’s not hiding the reason.”
“I guess it has something to do with me then.”
“Not just you. Your sisters too.”
“Did we do something wrong?”
“No, not wrong. How about you stop asking me questions, and I’ll tell you what it is.”
“Okay. Go ahead.”
“You know this past Thursday was the first Thanksgiving that none of you kids were here for the holiday.”
“I know. I felt bad when I found out. We had a pretty full group out here. Several of our friends from church are in the same boat. Came out here for work, and now we live too far away to get home for the holidays. So we ate together. Plenty of people, plenty of food, plenty of noise. But it wasn’t the same.”
He and Judith had plenty of food, but that was about it. The silence at the table had been almost unbearable. Of course, he didn’t want to say that. “I’m glad you missed being here. We sure missed you. Your mom really struggled. That’s really why I’m calling. Turns out, after talking with your sisters, she found out none of you can make it home for Christmas. I think that’s what really set her off. No family at Thanksgiving and now none at Christmas. She’s pretty much been in a pit ever since.”
Brandon said nothing for a few moments. So Stan continued. “A moment ago, you said you ate Thanksgiving with some friends who live too far away to get home for the holidays. Is that the only thing keeping you?”
“I guess,” Brandon said. “We don’t have the money to fly, and with gas prices, hotel bills, and eating out all those days, driving costs almost as much as flying. Besi
des that, it’s a three-day drive there and a three-day drive home. And that’s if we gun it, which is hard to do driving with kids. I only get a week off this Christmas, so we’d spend all of the time traveling. None of that matters anyway. I don’t have enough money to afford either option. The employee part of our health-care plan just went through the roof. I had to cut out our vacation budget, our clothing budget, and our Christmas fund by half just to close the gap.”
Brandon sounded worse off than Anna did. “I’m sorry things have gotten so tight for you guys.”
“Me too.”
“Well, I’ll talk to Mom. Maybe we can put a few dollars extra in the Christmas card we send for the kids’ presents.”
“You don’t have to do that, Dad. That’s not why I brought that up.”
“I know, I know. And I know you guys would come home if you could.”
“We definitely would, Dad. I feel bad for making Mom so sad.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine. We’ll just have to learn to adjust. Life doesn’t always turn out like you planned.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Brandon said. “Maybe one thing we could do is talk to each other using Skype or FaceTime. That way we can at least see each other while we’re talking.”
Neither Stan nor Judith were very tech savvy. “You’d have to help us set that up. Is it very complicated?”
“Not really. I’ll email you some step-by-step instructions. Maybe we can do a few practice runs before Christmas.”
“I’m sure willing to try it.” At least this was something new and different he could share with Judith. Although Stan doubted it would bring her out of this slump she was in.
Stan got the car all locked up and was just about to head back into work when his phone rang again. It was Suzanne. He hadn’t even left the shade of the trees yet. He looked at his watch. Eight minutes till he had to clock back in. He’d better keep walking. “Hey, Suzanne. Thanks for calling me back.”
“No problem. Your message said it wasn’t an emergency, but you never call so I knew I should call back right away. What’s going on?”
“I can’t talk too long. I’m just finishing my lunch break. Gotta clock back in to work.”
“I thought you were just part-time now.”
“I am, usually. It’s just the holidays making things a little busier than usual.”
“Is everything okay?”
Stan spent the next few minutes covering the same ground with Suzanne that he had with Brandon and Anna. Suzanne and her mother were the closest of the three kids. That showed in her reaction. She actually started to cry when Stan mentioned that none of the kids were going to make it home for Christmas, and how sad and depressed Judith had been the last several days.
“I wish there was something I could do,” she said. “I didn’t say anything to Mom on Thanksgiving, but I was pretty depressed myself. Our table seemed empty Thursday. I made everything Mom makes, just the way she taught me. Even set the table the same way she did. But it didn’t do any good.”
“I don’t know how we’re going to get through Christmastime, if your mom’s doing this poorly at Thanksgiving,” Stan said. “There’s absolutely no way you and Todd could make it home this year?”
“Oh Dad, I wish we could. We used up all our savings on this move. Todd and I were talking last night. We’re probably going to have to get used toys for Brianna this year. That’s how tight things are.”
Stan was about to ask if he could put some money toward flying her home for Christmas. Just her. But he instantly realized how stupid that was. A mom leaving her child and husband at Christmas to visit her mother. It was an insane idea. “Well, I thought I’d call and ask, just in case there was a chance. But I guess it’s not meant to be, not this year. Brandon suggested we could all use Skype so we can at least see each other while we talk. Ever use that?”
“I have. Anna and I have talked a few times with it.”
“You think that’s something your mom and I can manage?”
“I’m sure you could. We’d just have to show you a few things.”
Stan sighed. “I guess that’s something, anyway.”
20
Suzanne remained bummed out pretty much all afternoon, ever since the phone call from her dad. She hated thinking about her mom being so down. The holidays were Mom’s favorite time of the year. Always had been. It wasn’t just the decorations and the music and all the holiday food. It was the extra family time, reliving all the fond memories together and making new ones. And Mom had always made the holidays so much fun, ever since they were kids.
When they had spoken on the phone Thanksgiving Day, Suzanne hadn’t detected any sadness in her mom’s voice. But she should have. She should’ve realized how hard it would be for her to suddenly have all of that taken away.
Todd had called about a half hour ago saying he was stuck in traffic, as usual. She should go ahead and eat dinner. When he called, he was already thirty minutes later than normal. But what was normal anymore? He was supposed to get off at five every day and be home by five thirty. She could count the times on one hand that had actually happened. It wasn’t his fault. It was the new job, the way they did things. And big-city traffic.
Growing up in Mount Dora, she had thought traffic in Orlando was bad. But the Dallas/Fort Worth area was over three times the size of Orlando. It felt like five times the traffic. Even out here in the suburbs, Suzanne would sometimes feel exhausted by the time she got home from an afternoon of running errands.
There were just so . . . many . . . people.
She glanced at the digital clock on the stove. Unless Todd ran into more surprises, he should be pulling up in the driveway any minute. Her baby had finished her dinner. She was all cleaned up now and fast asleep. Suzanne was hoping to buy some uninterrupted conversation with Todd over dinner.
She walked through the living room and glanced out the front window. Totally dark out now. Still no sign of Todd. Maybe she’d take a minute in the bathroom and freshen up, see if she could erase some of the damage done by the day.
When she came out, she heard the garage door going up. Todd was probably starving by now. She certainly was. By the time she had the plates and drinks on the table, he was walking in.
“Sorry I’m late, again.”
He looked weary and stressed out. She walked up and hugged him, held the hug a few moments longer. “Dinner’s on the table.”
He set his laptop bag on a chair next to the hutch. “I’ll be right there.”
He disappeared into their bedroom. She knew the routine. He had to lose the shirt and tie and the dress shoes before he could relax. She sat in her chair at the dining room table. Less than two minutes later, he joined her.
“This looks delicious.” He led them in a quick prayer of thanks and began to eat. “How’d your day go?”
She hesitated to say, tried to think of something positive to start with. “Spent most of the afternoon running errands. The baby was unusually well behaved.”
“That’s good.” He looked up from his plate. “Is anything wrong? Your eyes look, I don’t know, sad.”
“They are. I mean, I am a little sad. But we don’t have to talk about it now.”
He reached out his hand, rested it on hers. “Sure we do. Other than the traffic, which always drives me crazy, I had a pretty decent day. You can lean on me a little.”
She set her fork down. “My dad called a little before lunch.”
“Your dad? Not your mom?”
“He was calling about my mom.”
“Is she all right? You just spoke with her a few days ago, right? On Thanksgiving?”
“Physically she’s fine. But he said she’s pretty depressed, worse than he’s ever seen her.”
“Really? Why?”
“I should’ve realized why on Thursday. This is the first year she and my dad spent Thanksgiving totally alone. None of us were there. And by the end of the day, she found out that none of us are coming for Christmas
either.”
“Hmm. Yeah, I guess that would do it, seeing how big your mom is about the holidays.”
“She’s even bigger about family and holidays,” Suzanne said. They both took a few bites. She wasn’t sure what to say about all this. They had already talked everything through last week when they’d made the decision that they couldn’t afford to come home for either holiday this year.
“You know I wish we could go home for Christmas, right?” Todd said. “It really is only the money. I always enjoy hanging out with your folks.”
“I know.” It was nice of him to say. And she knew he meant it. And it wasn’t like this move to Texas was something he’d forced her into. They both thought it would be a good idea.
At the time.
Now, six months later, she wasn’t so sure. They both ate some more.
“Lately, I’ve been wondering if we made a mistake coming out here,” Todd said.
“Really? Why?”
“Well, being so far away from the family is part of it. But I’ve been thinking about some other things. Like how tight our money is. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This transfer and new job paid three thousand more a year. The house prices between here and there are similar, so I knew that wouldn’t cost more. I thought we might even save a little because the gas prices are so much cheaper.”
“So why are things still so tight?” she asked.
“I never looked into the taxes,” he said. “I saw that both Florida and Texas have no state income taxes, but Florida doesn’t have them because they get the money from the tourists.”
“What do they do here?”
“Looks like they get it from property taxes. We’re paying almost two thousand a year more in property taxes.”
“That’s almost two-thirds of your raise eaten up right there.”
“I know. And though the gas prices are cheaper, I’m actually spending several hundred dollars more a month than we did back home. It’s twenty-five minutes farther to work than it used to be. And I wind up doubling the gas with all the stop-and-go traffic.” He grabbed a chunk of pork chop with his fork and sighed.
