“Oh, no,” Anna said quickly. “But thank you – I’ll bet it’ll be really cool.”
“Where are your kids?” the boy asked with a furrowed brow.
“Marcus,” the mom said with a warning tone.
“That’s okay,” Anna said, forcing a smile. “I don’t have children . . . at home, that is. But I am a teacher.” She patted Marcus’s curly dark hair. “And I have twenty-three kids in my second grade classroom.”
“I’m in first grade,” he admitted.
“Well, you look old enough to be in second grade.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I’m kinda big for my age.”
“Oh, here comes the wagon now,” the mom said. She seemed relieved by this, and Anna hoped she hadn’t made the family too uncomfortable. She wondered why it was that many people seemed to feel ill at ease when they encountered someone who didn’t have what they had. Maybe it was simply human nature – a protective intuition that someone might want to take what you had. Or maybe it was just Anna’s overactive imagination.
She tried not to think about these things as they rode back to the parking lot. And when the young man driving the wagon offered to help her unload her bulky tree and then get it tied securely on top of her car, she didn’t protest. Mostly she just wanted to get out of this happy Christmas place. She was tired of watching families, of feeling like a poor kid with her nose pressed against the toy store window and knowing that all she saw – all those desirable things – were not meant for her.
6
Michael’s car wasn’t in the driveway when Anna got home. So much for his “I’ll be working at home all day today” excuse. Although it was possible that he’d gone to the office, where the big printer and other pieces of expensive electronic equipment were kept. Anna got out of the car and studied the tree still tied securely on top. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too difficult to get down, what with gravity working with her. So she untied it and slid it down, laying it next to the car, then stepped back to admire her prize.
“Nice tree,” Bernice called as she checked her mailbox.
“Thanks,” Anna called back. “I cut it down myself.”
“It looks very Christmassy against your red car.”
Anna laughed. “Maybe I should leave it out here, although I was hoping to get it into the house at some point.”
“Need some help?”
Anna considered her elderly neighbor’s offer, then shook her head as she imagined Bernice stumbling under the bulky weight of the tree and breaking a hip. Anna wanted the tree inside the house, but not that badly. “Thanks anyway, Bernice. I’ll wait until Michael gets back.”
She went inside to see if he’d left a note. But all she found was his empty coffee cup and the newspaper still spread out over the dining table. She straightened things up, then went to the living room to make room for her tree. Her plan was to get everything in order and ready so that when Michael got home they could easily put the tree into place and begin decorating.
She moved some furniture around, freeing up the space in front of the window, then went up to the attic in search of Christmas decorations. Anna had begun collecting hand-blown glass ornaments even before she got married. She’d gotten off to a good start by adopting some of her mother’s fragile pieces after Dad married Donna and she brought in her own style of Christmas, featuring a white-flocked tree and silk flowers in shades of pink and purple. Not Anna’s favorite look. Anna preferred the old-fashioned ornaments that, lucky for her, neither Meri nor David had the slightest interest in at the time. Although if David knew their collectible value, he might see it differently now.
Anna removed the dusty cover from an old cardboard box, then carefully picked up a beloved Santa ornament from where it was snuggled down into layers of tissue paper. This was the very piece that her mom had said was the beginning of her own collection back in the sixties. She’d purchased it in Switzerland during a college trip, and somehow she’d managed to carry it all over Europe without breaking it.
What would become of these precious ornaments after Anna was gone? She picked up a snowman ornament and held it up to the faint light coming through the small attic window. Would Michael want to use them? Or perhaps Meri or David should have them, saving them for the next generation. Anna decided that she should put together some kind of will, saying who should get what after she was gone. Not that she had much to leave anyone. But some of the family things should probably be shared with her siblings and their children. Of course, she knew that neither David nor Meri would want Great-Gran’s china. Meredith had never liked it much, and Celeste already had a very contemporary set of china that they’d gotten for their wedding.
Oh, well, Anna didn’t have to resolve everything in a single day. Right now she just wanted to focus on Christmas. She picked up the tree stand and, upon closer examination, knew that it would be too small for that big trunk. One more thing to add to her growing list . . . which once again reminded her of their limited finances. Already she’d stretched their budget with what Michael might consider an extravagant price for the tree. Nearly a hundred dollars! But that was with that lovely wreath that she’d totally forgotten about in the backseat. Well, at least she could have that up before Michael got home. She couldn’t wait to see it hanging on their front door.
Anna carried the boxes of ornaments down the steep attic stairs, pausing in the kitchen to dust them off before adding “bigger tree stand” to her list. Then she fetched the big wreath from the car and was even more pleased with it. At the tree farm it had seemed nice enough, sitting there among the others, but now that it was home, she could see that it was perfectly beautiful with its varied selection of lush evergreens and shining holly with bright red berries. Even the big red-velvet bow was perfect. Anna stood back to admire it. Really, it was the best wreath she’d ever hung on their front door.
Suddenly she remembered their first Christmas in this house, seven years ago. She’d just started doing the infertility treatments, and that, combined with the purchase of the house, had made finances tighter than ever. To be thrifty, she’d created a homemade wreath using a wire hanger and tying on greens she’d clipped from shrubbery around the yard. The sad wreath had been slightly lopsided and limp, but better than nothing . . . until a strong wind, just a few days before Christmas, managed to dismantle it completely. All that was left were a couple of sad sprigs of pine and the crooked hanger. Well, this year would be different.
Anna grabbed her list and her purse and made a Wal-Mart run, where she found a big tree stand as well as some other Christmas decorations that were on sale. And then, with Michael still not home, she put many of the decorations up. As it started to get dark outside, she turned on the exterior Christmas lights, made a fire in the fireplace, lit candles, and even had Christmas music playing. The only thing missing now was Michael. After several unsuccessful attempts to reach him on his cell phone or the office phone, Anna was getting worried. But then she heard the front door opening.
“Ho ho ho!” Michael shouted from the entryway.
She dashed out in time to see him dragging in a Christmas tree. Not her tree, but another one. It was about the same height as hers, but not nearly as pretty. And it wasn’t a Noble Fir.
“You got a tree?” she said in a slightly accusatory tone.
He looked disappointed. “Hey, I thought you’d be happy.”
She held out her arms and sighed. “Yes, of course I’m happy. Except that I got a tree too. Didn’t you see it out front?”
His brow creased. “You got a tree too?”
So she told him the story of the tree farm. And he told her how he’d noticed a Christmas tree lot on his way home and thought he’d surprise her. “But you don’t like it?”
“It’s a nice tree,” she admitted. “But the one I got is nicer.” She tugged him by the arm. “Come on outside and see it.”
Of course, once they dragged the tree up to the porch where it was illuminated by the Christmas lights, he had to
agree that her tree was much nicer.
“So, what’ll we do with this one?”
“I don’t have a tree in my classroom yet . . .”
“You do now.”
She hugged him. “Thanks!”
“You’re really getting into the spirit of Christmas this year,” he said as they went back into the house and examined her holiday decorating.
“That’s right. And I thought maybe you’d help me get that tree in here tonight.” She showed him the oversized tree stand. “You just need to recut the trunk and – ”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
She shrugged. “I guess . . . but I thought it would be fun to decorate it tonight.”
“I’m worn out.” He kicked off his shoes and flopped into his favorite chair.
“I guess I can do it myself,” she said. “Is there a saw in the garage?”
He sat up in the chair now, reaching for his shoes. “Okay, Anna, if you’re that determined . . . I guess I can do it.”
She could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t nearly as enthused about this as she was, and she was surprised he was doing this without an argument, but she just smiled. “And since you’re being such a good sport, I’ll go start dinner.”
He turned and looked curiously at her. “You mean we’re not going out?”
Saturday night was usually their date night, but Anna had already decided that she’d fix dinner at home tonight. An effort to economize after her big day of spending. “I’ve already got something ready to fix,” she told him. “And then we can decorate the tree – that’ll be more fun than dinner and a movie anyway.”
“If you say so . . .”
By the time dinner was ready, Michael had managed to get the tree in its stand, and the two of them then wrestled it into the living room. “That is one heavy tree,” he said as they stood back to see if it was straight.
“And one beautiful tree . . . don’t you think?”
He nodded, then pulled a twig from her hair. “I hate to think how much it must’ve cost, Anna.”
“Probably about as much as dinner and a movie,” she said. “Let me get some water for the tree and then we can eat.”
She quizzed him about work while they ate, asking him how long this crunch time of working late and on weekends was going to last. But his answer was vague, and she suspected that he didn’t see an end in sight.
“Are you still glad you got your own business?” she asked. “No regrets?”
“We knew it would be hard to get it going at the start,” he said as he took another serving of spaghetti. “But it’ll be worth it . . . eventually.”
She wondered. Now more than ever, time seemed very precious to her. And the idea of Michael putting in long hours was unsettling. “How long do you think it’ll be before . . . ‘eventually’?”
“I know the business seems demanding right now, Anna, but trust me, just one year from now things will be a lot different.”
Anna swallowed hard and looked down at her plate. Chances were things would be a lot different. But not different in the way that Michael was hoping for. Anna looked back up at him, tempted to say something.
“I’m glad you decided to do all this Christmas stuff early,” he said. “I know I probably seemed like a wet blanket earlier . . . but now I think it’s just what we needed. I’ve missed Christmas in this house.”
She smiled at him. “Me too.”
After dinner, he willingly helped her to decorate the tree. And he listened as she told him the various histories of each of the ornaments. She made them big cups of cocoa and popped some popcorn, and although he helped to string some, she was pretty sure he was mostly eating it. Still, it didn’t matter. This was more about making memories than anything else. And she knew, for her, tonight would always be special.
Anna felt her throat tighten as she sat there looking at the tree and Christmas decorations . . . at Michael and Huntley sitting next to the fireplace. It was picture perfect. “Are you crying?” Michael asked her.
She blinked, then smiled. “Just because I’m so happy,” she said.
He sort of frowned, as if he wasn’t convinced.
Now she forced herself to laugh. “And I’m sure my hormones are messing with me too.”
He nodded as if he could buy into that. And Anna decided that it wasn’t exactly a lie either. In fact, it seemed quite likely that her hormones would be playing havoc with her emotions from here on out. She remembered how her mother had been during that last year, often crying over what seemed like nothing. Dad had told the kids not to be too concerned, saying that Mom’s ups and downs were simply a part of the illness. But then, he had played down a lot of things.
Sometimes Anna wondered if Dad had been in some sort of denial. Or maybe he had simply shut down his own emotions. Because even when Mom died, Anna never saw her father cry. And if she or her siblings cried occasionally in the months following their mother’s death, Dad would scowl his disapproval, telling them to “buck up” and “get over it.” He’d even said that their mother wouldn’t have wanted them to carry on like babies. But Anna wasn’t so sure. She thought that Mom probably would’ve wanted them to express their grief – she probably understood that tears were part of the healing process. And when Anna died, she hoped that her loved ones would cry for her. At least a little. After that they could move on.
7
“David said that he and Celeste planned to swing by our house on their way home from church,” Michael said as he pulled into the driveway. “David wants her to see the baby furniture.”
“Oh . . .” Anna nodded, trying to take this in. She knew she’d offered them the furniture, but suddenly she wasn’t so sure she could part with it.
“I know it’s hard.” Michael took her hand and squeezed it. “But David sounded relieved that it might save them a few bucks.”
“I know.” She took a deep breath. “And, really, I’m fine with it. I like the idea of a little niece or nephew using those things.”
Michael looked relieved. “And I like the idea of having a home office.”
She squeezed his hand now. “So do I.”
“That looks like them now,” Michael said as a silver SUV pulled up.
“Wow, you’ve already decorated for Christmas,” Celeste said as the four of them went into the house. “Kind of early, isn’t it?”
Anna shrugged. “Maybe . . . but I thought we could enjoy it longer this way.”
“What a good-looking tree,” David said as they paused in the living room.
Anna told him about how she’d cut it down herself and then been tackled by it. “It’s a lot heavier than it looks.”
“You went to the tree farm by yourself?” Celeste said with a frown.
“I know.” Anna laughed. “I guess it was a little desperate. But we haven’t had a tree for a couple of years, and I think I was feeling Christmas deprived.”
“If I’d known she was that determined, I would’ve gone too,” Michael explained. “But I was working.”
“It’s okay,” Anna said. “It all worked out in the end.”
“And it looks great,” David said.
“Want to see the baby furniture?” Anna asked.
“Sure,” David said, but Celeste just nodded with seeming reluctance.
“I’ll put on some coffee,” Michael said as Anna led the way to the nursery.
“Anna said it’s really well made,” David said as she opened the door.
“Oh . . .” Celeste said with a slight frown. “It’s painted.”
“Yes,” Anna said as she ran a hand over the rail. “It’s nontoxic paint, of course, with a very hard finish. And it’s all solid wood underneath.”
“But it’s very old-fashioned,” Celeste said. “I suppose it would be okay for a girl . . . but it seems kind of feminine for a boy.”
“It’s just a nursery,” David said. “Who cares what it looks like? As long as it’s safe and sturdy and – ”
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“I care,” Celeste protested. “And I don’t want hand-me-down furniture for my baby.”
“But it’s never even been used,” David said.
“And you can put any kind of baby linens with it,” Anna said. “If you guys are having a boy, just get boyish-looking things and – ”
“I already had my heart set on another set of furniture,” Celeste said. She turned and glared at David. “Are you saying I can’t even pick out my own baby’s furniture?”
“I’m saying that this will save us a few bucks,” David said.
“But the set I want is designed to grow with the child. The crib can be converted to a bed, and the dresser doesn’t look so – so babyish.”
David leaned his head back and let out a groan. “And I’ll bet it costs a fortune too.” Then he turned and walked out of the room.
“I don’t see why he’s being so stubborn about this,” Celeste said in a wounded tone.
“I think he just hoped to save some money.”
“But we’re talking about our baby. Don’t you think our baby deserves the best?”
Anna sighed. “Well, of course . . .”
“I mean, you got to pick out what you wanted, Anna. And even though I don’t like it, I’m sure this furniture wasn’t cheap. And then you didn’t even have a baby. I’ll bet Michael doesn’t get on your case over the wasted money.”
Anna blinked and swallowed over the lump in her throat. “No, of course not.”
“I don’t see why David can’t be more like Michael. It’s like he doesn’t even want this baby.” And suddenly Celeste was crying.
Anna knew that she should hug her sister-in-law, but everything in her wanted to just run from the room and escape her.
“David acts like I got pregnant just to aggravate him.” She sniffed loudly. “Like he thinks I’m enjoying all this pregnancy crud.” She pulled up her shirt to reveal the top of her pants, which were unbuttoned and partially unzipped. “It’s not exactly fun watching your waistline disappear. Before long I’ll be as big as a house.”
The Joy of Christmas Page 19
