Southern Fried Christmas

by Marian Merritt

  “So are we.” Carroll shouted.

  She smiled. “As you know this is my great pleazah each year at Christmas to share this story with you and to get to hug each and every one of my family. I don’t know how many Christmases I have left, but when I’m gone I want you to know that this filled me wit’ joy.” She sat in the chair of honor, her worn rocking chair. The children scooted forward to sit near her feet, but left a clear path directly in front of her.

  “Now, I’d like all my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to come receive my special gift.”

  A wave of voices spread through the house as old and young worked their way into a line. The oldest of the children, Eula’s brother stood before his mother’s chair. Kelly sat close enough to see the sparkle in Mameré Milla’s eyes and hear the exchange. The elderly woman gazed lovingly into the eyes of her offspring as she handed them the candy cane/dollar bill combination. “I love you and thank God you’re a part of my family.” She spoke the words with sincerity and love as she embraced each one.

  Kelly fought the sting of tears when Denny approached and leaned over to hug the frail lady. Mameré repeated the same words to Denny then patted his cheek and added, “I pray dat your time for love comes soon.”

  He slid her hand from his cheek and kissed her palm. “Your prayers are always appreciated.”

  When Mameré had one cane left, she stood. “Now that each family holds the very meaning of Christmas, I want to tell you a story.” She stepped around to the back of the rocker and used the back for support. Her twinkling gaze traveled the breadth of the room. Kelly wasn’t sure which one shone brighter, the lighted tree or the joy-filled woman.

  She took a deep breath and began telling her special story. A legend she’d heard from her Mamére. “Once upon a time there was a candy maker who wanted to make a special candy for Christmas. One that would remind everyone about the reason we celebrate this wonderful day. So he set to work in his kitchen and tried many different ideas: chocolates shaped like the Star of David, green and red striped taffy, manger-shaped bubble gum, all good ideas but none satisfied his desire. Den late one Christmas Eve as he sat in his shop tryin’ to think of an idea, he dawdled with two pieces of yarn, a white piece and a red one. As he twisted them together an idea came to him. He worked through the night and early on Christmas Day he finished the first batch of red and white striped candy canes.” Mameré lifted the cane and held it upside down. “You see it forms a letter J, a reminder that Jesus is why we celebrate this day. The white symbolizes his purity while the red reminds us of the blood he shed for each one of us. You hold this special gift from me because God gave us a gift more than two thousand years ago. The dollar bill, I’ve added as a reminder of the richness we have because of this and also as a reminder not to be caught up in the commercialism of the holiday. Always remember, that the coming of Jesus is why we gather to celebrate.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she stepped around the rocker and walked toward Kelly.

  Kelly’s heart began to race.

  “We also have the gift of a young woman who we’ve adopted as our own this Christmas.” When she reached Kelly, Mameré grabbed her hand and encouraged her to stand. She whispered in Kelly’s ear. “Would you share your candy cane story also?”

  Kelly gazed into her aged eyes. “I don’t know.”

  “Please. I know we’ll be blessed by your father’s words.”

  At the thought of her father, Kelly struggled to keep the tears from bursting forth. She nodded and allowed Mameré to guide her toward the rocker.

  Mameré began, “This is Kelly Shepherd. She’s visiting us from Denver, Colorado and is writing a story on the Cajun Christmas culture. We are blessed and honored that she chose to spend her Christmas wit’ us. Kelly’s father, who passed on to be with our Lord this spring, used to tell Kelly a candy cane story too. Give her your attention while she shares her story wit’ us.” Mameré squeezed her hand and handed her the last candy cane. “Go on, sha.”

  Kelly’s pulse raced. Denny nodded then winked at her. Both Chelsea and Eula shot beaming smiles. Kelly strengthened from their encouragement.

  Dad, this is in your honor. She gulped then began.

  “Every Christmas for as long as I can remember, my father would give me a gift with a candy cane taped to the top. Once I’d opened the present and thanked him for whatever he’d given me, he’d point toward the candy cane. I can hear his words today as though he were sitting right here with us. ‘Kelly,’ he’d say, ‘see this candy cane? It’s in the shape of a shepherd’s crook. A reminder for you and everyone that Jesus is our Savior, our personal shepherd who wants to guide us back to His flock when we’re lost. Remember, if you’re ever lost, He’s there to guide you back.’” Kelly paused and enjoyed the pressure of Mameré Milla’s hand in hers. She continued. “I want to thank each of you for making me feel so welcome here. Your family is wonderful, and I hope you appreciate just how lucky you all are to have each other.” She hugged Denny’s grandmother and returned to her seat amid the sound of applause.

  When she met Denny’s gaze, her resolve nearly melted. His wide smile greeted her. “Thank you.” He gave her a gentle hug. “You did good.”

  “Kelly, now you’re like Mameré. You’ve got your own story.” Chelsea’s excitement transferred to the hug she gave Kelly. The tightness made her catch her breath, but the warmth of acceptance misted her eyes.

  ****

  Denny swallowed the lump in his throat. Seeing the joy in his daughter’s eyes and the way she flung herself into Kelly’s arms, warmed his soul. When he looked into Kelly’s eyes, he knew beyond any doubt she’d stolen his heart. How? He’d only known her a few days. And too many uncertainties prevented anything more.

  As the family spread about, Kelly was swamped with aunts, uncles, and cousins wanting to thank her or just to get to know her. For the next few hours, at least one or two members of his family monopolized her attention. Denny stood in the background and reveled in watching her interact with his relatives. Children ran in and out of the house to the garage or played in the middle of the living room floor. The bustle of the family resumed to the roar of its previous level. He chatted with various aunts, uncles, and cousins as he made his way to the garage. Although, the rain continued to fall at a steady pace, the intensity had decreased. He walked to the corner of the garage where a commercial-sized coffeepot was set up. As he poured himself a cup, a familiar voice caused his back to stiffen.

  “How ya doin’, sweetie?” The slurred words floated across time to his flinching ears.

  He turned to face the blonde curls and blue eyes of someone who, for a brief moment, he’d thought might have been a possibility for him. “Franny, it’s been a while.”

  “Two years, eight months, but who’s counting.” She wrapped her arms around his neck nearly spilling his coffee. She whispered in his ear. “Thought about you often, Denny. Miss you, a whole lot.”

  He eased out of her clutches and glanced toward his coffee cup. Her presence unnerved him.

  “Anything interesting in that cup? I can help you out.” She patted her purse.

  Her meaning hit Denny like a bolt of lightning. The distinct smell of alcohol raked across his nostrils. Franny Aucion was drunk. “Did you drive here alone?”

  “Sure did. I’m staying at my mama’s house for the holidays. Even though she’s gone, I still like to visit the ole’ neighborhood. Especially old boyfriends.” She winked at Denny. “Remembered ya Mama’s party tonight.” She smiled a seductive smile that caused him to flinch. His mother would not appreciate a drunk Franny at her house. But he couldn’t just ask her to leave. There was no way he would let her get behind the wheel of a car in her condition. “Franny, how much have you had to drink?”

  “Enough to feel no pain.”

  “Maybe I should drive you home.”

  “Oooh, Denny.” She rubbed his shoulder. “That sounds real good.”

  He scanned the garage, looking for s
omeone to help him. He sighed when he caught the attention of his cousin Gary. With his fingers, he motioned for him to come over. “I need to ask a favor.” He pulled his car keys from his pocket. “Would you follow me to Franny’s mom’s house? Here’s my truck keys.”

  Gary’s brow furrowed as he looked from Denny to Franny.

  “Denny, we don’t need company.” She pointed to herself then to Denny. “Sugah, jus’ me ‘n you.”

  Gary nodded then reached for the keys. “Sure thing, I’ll be right behind you.”

  Denny searched the crowd to see if his mother or Chelsea were nearby, but couldn’t find either one. He didn’t want to leave without telling them what was happening, but he didn’t want to leave Franny alone to find them.

  “Gary, tell Melinda to let Mama know what’s going on and that we should be back in time for church.”

  “Will do. I won’t be long behind you.”

  “C’mon, Franny. I’m taking you home.”

  Denny led the staggering woman by the elbow through the drizzle to her car. She fumbled through her purse to find the keys to her Buick. Although, he knew this was the right thing to do, a dreadful fist tightened in his gut.

  Onze

  “It was nice meeting you also.” Kelly hugged the petite pregnant woman who claimed to be Denny’s first cousin. Her father was Eula’s older brother. Of course, there would be no way Kelly would remember the names of Denny’s relatives and how they were related. The past several hours she’d loved talking to so many different people and hearing their unique stories. For the first time since she’d told her father’s story, she didn’t have anyone clamoring to meet her. A quick scan of the room told her Denny wasn’t around, but she did spot Chelsea running toward the back room, her eyes filled with tears.

  Kelly knocked on the door. “Chelsea, honey, it’s Kelly. Can I come in?”

  A muffled sound came from the room. She pushed the door opened to find Chelsea lying face down on the bed. Sobs convulsed her small body.

  Kelly rushed to her and knelt next to the bed. “Chelsea, what’s wrong. Can I help?”

  “Oh, Miss Kelly, it’s m-m-my dad. He left with that w-woman.” Tears streaked her cheeks and muted the blue of her eyes.

  Denny gone. With a woman. She didn’t quite understand the reason for Chelsea’s outburst. “Honey, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”

  “You don’t understand. I-I-It’s the woman he dated before and sh-sh-she wanted to marry him, and she’s not very nice. He left with her.” She buried her face in the pillow and sobbed even harder.

  Pain akin to a thousand pinpricks stung Kelly’s heart. She stroked Chelsea’s silky hair. “Honey, I know there has to be a good reason.”

  “Chelsea sat upright. I heard Uncle Gary say that Daddy was going home with Franny. I want him to like you, not Franny.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m flattered that you think so much of me. But your dad has to make his own choices. Besides I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

  “Do you like my dad?” Her teary blue eyes bore holes through Kelly’s heart.

  How to answer such a direct question? If only things in life were so easy. Kelly climbed onto the bed and hugged the crying child. “Well, yes. I think your dad is a great guy. He’s a lot of fun to be around.”

  “I know he likes you. I just know it.”

  Kelly held her and brushed the strands of damp hair away from her face. She rocked her gently until the sobs eased. Random thoughts flew through her mind. Why should she care if Denny left with another woman? She had no claims on him. There was no relationship between them, only a few hours of companionship and…a connection at some level that she didn’t dare admit for fear that if she did, his departure would bother her—a lot.

  “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up, and we’ll have a bowl of your Mawmaw’s gumbo. From what I’ve heard it’s pretty good.” She entered the bathroom and wet a washcloth. With a gentle touch, she wiped Chelsea’s tear-stained cheeks. “This will make you feel better.”

  “Thanks, Miss Kelly.” Chelsea wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed her cheek.

  The gesture tore at Kelly’s vulnerable heart. Lord, protect this child’s feelings. Keep her from any more pain in her life. She’s already felt more than anyone should.

  Chelsea sighed. “Miss Kelly, do you suppose the old lady in the swamp is alone tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  The young girl lowered her head. “Because no one should be alone at Christmas.”

  Her heart seared. That was the exact reason she had taken this assignment. Although now here, she realized this was much more than a writing assignment. “You’re right. No one should be alone at Christmas.” Kelly slipped her hand into Chelsea’s. “Maybe we can talk your dad into taking us out to bring her Christmas dinner. Would you like to do that?”

  Chelsea’s face brightened for a moment then flattened. “I would. Maybe just you and me can go. I can find her camp all by myself.”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” She brushed the curve of Chelsea’s cheek. “Don’t you want your dad to take us?”

  Chelsea shrugged her shoulders and lowered her head.

  “Honey?”

  The child lifted her head. “Maybe.”

  Kelly sensed Chelsea’s answer was to keep her from asking any further questions. Especially when the young girl rolled off the bed and strolled toward the door. “C’mon. I’ll fix your bowl.”

  She walked out with Chelsea into the living room. When she entered the kitchen, she found Eula scouring the pantry. “Kelly, did you see where I put those bowls we bought the other day?”

  Kelly reached on the shelf above Eula’s head and retrieved the package of red bowls. “Right here.” She handed them to her.

  Eula propped her hands on her hips before she turned toward the kitchen. “I hate being so short.”

  “Mrs. Labouve, can I talk with you for a moment?”

  “Sure, hon, and it’s Eula. What’s up?”

  A pang of regret gripped her. She realized if she said anything it would appear that she was fishing for information. She bit her bottom lip and hesitated. What to say? “It’s Chelsea. She’s really upset. I found her sobbing in the extra bedroom. Something about Denny leaving the party.”

  Eula hung her head. “Yes, Melinda’s baby got sick, and she had to leave quickly. As she was leaving, she said Denny left. I’ll talk with Chelsea.” Eula squeezed Kelly’s hand. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

  Why would Eula think she would be worried? Was the knot twisting in her stomach worry? Surely, not. She barely knew this man. But then…Eula’s concerned look made her insides feel like dozens of wire coat hangers knotted in a tangled mess never to be unraveled.

  Kelly slipped into the bedroom and applied the finishing touches on her article. She wrote as vividly as she could about the party so she could capture the Christmas spirit she had experienced tonight. But as time rolled by, Kelly found herself watching the clock…and the driveway. At eleven, she e-mailed her article to her editor and then offered to help Chelsea dress for church.

  “She’s had a long day. I don’t think she’ll make it to church. She fell asleep on the couch in the back room.” Eula untied the apron from her waist. The woman seemed as fresh at eleven at night as she’d been this morning at nine. Where did she get the energy?

  Suddenly, fatigue gripped Kelly. “I’ll be happy to stay here with her.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. It has been a long day. Are there services we can attend tomorrow?”

  “Yes. There’s several at different churches.”

  “I think I’ll turn in.”

  “Good night and Merry Christmas.” Eula reached up and brushed her fingertips on Kelly’s cheek. “You’re a wonderful young lady, Kelly. I’m glad God sent you to us.”

  Kelly swallowed past the lump lodged in her throat. She was the one who should be thankfu
l. This whole family had been a blessing to her. Even with the uncertainty rolling through her gut, and as much as she hated to admit it, she had fallen in love with the whole family, not just Denny Labouve.

  ****

  Denny glanced at his watch. Midnight. Great. He would miss church with his family.

  He tried to shield himself from the drizzling rain but the dampness and cooler air bit through his thin cotton shirt. The temperature had plummeted in the last few hours, and the forecast predicted even lower temperatures for tonight and tomorrow. Possibly even freezing rain. Of all times for the battery on his cell phone to die. He’d left Franny’s house on foot over an hour ago and followed the isolated narrow road toward the main road. Surely, Gary would have driven by him by now.

  With each waterlogged step he took, he regretted his decision more and more. He’d missed church with his family and gave up time he could have spent with Kelly. But when he thought of what could have happened to Franny had she driven down that long road in her condition, he knew he’d done the right thing.

  At half-past one, he saw the familiar glow of the yellow light bulb his mother left on at the side door. Thank you. The only other light coming from the house was a single tapered electric candle his mother placed in the kitchen window. Its glow was a welcome relief.

  He knew everyone had gone to bed. Soaked, shivering, and miserable, he walked to his house for a quick shower and his bed. Before his shower, he called Gary and discovered the young man mad with worry that he’d not been able to pick him up because his son had been rushed to the emergency room.

  “Is little Gary all right?”

  “Yeah, he is. The doctor’s said it’s a virus. We’re just finishing up here at the hospital. I can have Melinda follow me over so we can return your Suburban.”

  “No way. I’ll pick it up later. You go home and take care of that little boy. Merry Christmas, Gary.”