JUST A NORMAL CHRISTMAS
by Caren J. Werlinger
Jules dropped her suitcase on the foyer floor. She closed the front door and leaned against it, her eyes closed. “I love our home. I never want to leave it, ever again.”
Holly and Mistletoe came running to greet them, meowing nonstop as they wound around their legs.
Kelli smiled and set her own suitcase down. She leaned down to pet the cats for a moment and then stepped nearer so she could wrap her arms around Jules. “Well, I don’t know about that, but we’ll only have it to ourselves for a few weeks before they’re here.”
Jules peered at Kelli through one partially opened eye. “We really invited them for Christmas?”
“You really invited them for Christmas,” Kelli corrected. “They were supposed to come for Thanksgiving, remember?”
Jules made a face. “I know, but somehow it seemed easier for us to go there. I forgot how bad holiday traffic is. And then Mae had to start dropping all kinds of hints about how long it’s been since she’s been anywhere, and it just came out. Damn. Why didn’t you stop me?”
Kelli chuckled. She kissed Jules’s cheek and released her. “At least we’re already decorated for Christmas, so that part’s done. It’ll be fine. Ronnie will share the driving, and Bertha will pack enough food to feed them for three weeks in case they get stranded somewhere.”
Holly stretched up on her hind legs, pawing at Jules. She picked the cat up, holding her as she purred, and carried her into the kitchen. “Let’s get the girls fed, and then we can carry everything upstairs.”
A few minutes later, they were up in their room, tossing clothes from their suitcases into the laundry hamper.
“I can’t believe we have to go back to work tomorrow,” Kelli said with a yawn. “Why didn’t we come home yesterday so we could have had a day to rest?”
“We’re getting old,” Jules said, smothering a yawn of her own. “I used to do that drive to Ohio and back like it was nothing.”
She looked longingly at the bed. “Just a short nap?”
Kelli dropped onto the mattress. “I’m so glad you said that. Just a short one.”
“Shit!”
Jules sat up, looking around dazedly. “What?”
“We slept all night and forgot to set the alarm.” Kelli exploded up from the bed and ran into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She came back into the bedroom and looked at the rumpled clothes she’d fallen asleep in. “Crap. I’ve got to go. I’ll be in scrubs anyway. I’ll see you tonight.”
She gave Jules a quick kiss on the cheek and ran down the stairs. Jules heard the garage door open and close as Kelli’s Tahoe rumbled up the street. She undressed and showered.
Feeling slightly more awake by the time she was dressed for work, Jules went down for breakfast and found a hastily scribbled note from Kelli.
Remember to talk to Donna about next weekend.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jules muttered. She turned to the cereal cupboard and pulled down a box of Wheaties.
On the way back from Ohio, Kelli had been talking about having a small holiday party, and she really wanted Donna to be there. It wasn’t exactly awkward seeing Donna these days—in fact, Jules was scheduled to have a meeting with her later this afternoon about one of her students—but it wasn’t like the old days. And that’s probably a good thing. Jules wasn’t really in the mood for a party, but, as the entire holiday season the previous year had been overshadowed by Kelli’s mother’s cancer, she couldn’t say no to Kelli wanting a bit more of a celebration this year.
She sat, eating her Wheaties as she stared out the window at the backyard, all leafless trees and naked bushes now except for the nandina glowing red against the fence. She smiled a little, picturing Mae and Bertha in the kitchen at Thanksgiving, arguing over the best way to make the gravy. Mae was still Mae, but there was something about her grandmother now that Jules couldn’t remember ever being there, a softening of the hard edges. And Bertha seemed to finally be emerging from twenty-four years of mourning, sporting a new hairdo and probably the first new dress she’d had since Hobie’s death.
“I took her shopping,” Ronnie had whispered. “Me, shopping for dresses. It was totally embarrassing, but she wouldn’t have gone by herself.”
“You got new clothes, too,” Kelli said.
Ronnie blushed furiously, smoothing the creases in her new khakis. “I needed some nicer clothes for school.”
“You look great,” Jules had said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze.
“Speaking of different,” Ronnie had said, looking at Jules. “Your hair.”
“Oh, yeah.” Jules ran a hand over her short hair, mussing it. “Gone is the tail.”
“It looks good on you. Softer.”
Softer. Mae is softer, I’m softer, Jules thought now, spooning the last of her cereal from the milk. Soft was good. It was so much easier than keeping armor up all the time, making sure no chinks showed to let things in that might hurt her. True, soft made her more vulnerable, and that wasn’t always comfortable, but Kelli was always there. She choked up, as she often did now, thinking about how loyal Kelli had been, even after everything Jules had put her through. She blotted her eyes with a napkin and carried her bowl to the sink.
Jules made sure she got to the high school early. The parents wanted to attend, so the meeting had been scheduled for after school. She poked her head around the door of Donna’s classroom.
“Hey.”
Donna looked up from her desk where she was grading papers. “Hey, yourself.”
“Good Thanksgiving?” Jules set her briefcase down and took a seat at one of the desks.
“Yeah.” Donna nodded. “Mom said to give you her best.”
“Mae, too. We ended up going out there. They’re all coming here for Christmas.”
“Really?” Donna couldn’t hide a smirk. “That should make for an interesting Christmas.”
“Tell me about it.” Jules snorted. “It’ll be okay. We’re all still getting used to… everything.”
Her eyes locked with Donna’s for a moment, and she knew there was still some getting used to going on here as well. She cleared her throat.
“New place working out well?”
“Yeah,” Donna said, looking back down at her papers. “Elaine finally re-financed with Carrie, so I got my share from the house. Cut my last tie to her. It’s a lot better now.”
“Took her long enough.”
Donna shrugged. “It’s over and done with.”
“Hey, we’re having a little holiday get-together this Saturday evening. We’d like you to come.”
Donna glanced up. “Who’s coming?”
“Not Elaine and Carrie, if that’s what you were wondering. I think Kelli said something to Marianne and a few people she works with. Barbara and Chris are coming. You. We’re keeping it small, but last year was so…”
“Yeah,” Donna said, understanding the unspoken. “It was. Okay, I’ll come. What can I bring?”
“Your mom’s potato salad?”
Donna grinned. “Done.”
Just then, the principal knocked on the door and came in with the parents. Donna gave Jules a last nod before they all moved to the table at the back of the room.
Saturday evening found Donna driving slowly down Jules and Kelli’s street. It felt weird. When they invited her to move in after her breakup with Elaine, this house had become home—for a little while. More like home than living with Elaine ever had. She could never have admitted it to them, but she’d thought about what it might have been like for the three of them to live together permanently. Until the night Jules came to her. She knew why Jules had done it, and it worked. Finally, after twelve years apart, I can say I’m not in love with her anymore.
But after that, it was just not possible for D
onna and Jules to live under the same roof.
It had been weeks after she moved out before she’d seen either of them. It was Kelli who called, suggesting she join them for dinner with Barbara and Chris. She knew Kelli was trying to ease her back into being comfortable around them, and she was grateful. It had been awkward at first, but good friends—old friends—were too hard to come by. She didn’t want Jules and Kelli to disappear from her life.
She pulled into the driveway with five other cars, most of which she didn’t recognize. She rang the front bell. Kelli answered, pulling her in for a hug.
“It’s so good to see you.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” Donna held up her bowl. “Want me to take the potato salad to the kitchen?”
“I’ll take your coat,” Jules said, appearing behind Kelli.
No hug.
Donna nodded and allowed Jules to help her take her coat off. The kitchen table and island were crowded with bowls and platters of food. Kelli joined her and re-arranged some things to make room.
“How have you been?”
“Good.” Donna took the plastic wrap off the bowl and inserted a large serving spoon. “Settled in at the townhouse now. Busy at work.”
“Come on,” Kelli said, taking Donna by the hand. “I think you know almost everyone.”
She introduced Donna to a couple of other nurses she worked with who were there with their husbands and boyfriends. Donna wandered over to Kelli’s sister, Marianne.
“How are you?”
Marianne swallowed a sip of her wine and said, “I’m good. Got an early Christmas present. Finally lost that last two hundred pounds.”
At Donna’s puzzled glance, Marianne added, “The divorce is final.”
“Oh. Mine, too. I only had to get her to pay me for the house.”
They clinked their glasses together.
“Good riddance,” Marianne said.
At that moment, someone bumped into Marianne, tossing the contents of her drink all down Donna’s sweater.
“Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh. I am so, so sorry.”
A woman stepped around Marianne and started to reach out with a napkin, but stopped, her hand hovering over the red stain spreading across Donna’s chest.
“Perfect,” Donna muttered, blotting the spilled drink with her own napkin. “Just perfect.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“So you said.”
Marianne squatted down to mop up what had spilled to the floor. Donna stepped into the kitchen to get a damp towel. To her irritation, the woman who had bumped into Marianne followed her, still stammering apologies. Donna dampened a corner of a kitchen towel and used it to blot at the wine stain.
“Look,” Donna turned and froze as she found herself looking into a pair of large gray eyes framed by long, dark lashes.
“I’ll pay to have it dry-cleaned.”
“Um…sorry, what?”
“The sweater,” the woman said. “I’ll pay to have it dry-cleaned.”
“No.” Donna blinked and looked down. “It’s okay. It was kind of an ugly sweater anyhow.”
The woman held her hand out. “I’m Toni, by the way. Toni Marsell. Not T-O-N-Y like Tony Soprano. T-O-N-I, like Toni Collette, the actress. I mean, not that I look like Toni Collette. You know, she’s just so gorgeous. I mean, when you go back and look at her in, like, Emma, and then how different she looked in The Sixth Sense, it’s like, wow, what a difference. And I’m not named for her, you know. She’s not that old, and I’m not that young. I mean, we’re probably close to the same age, but…”
She paused to take a breath while Donna just stared, still holding Toni’s hand.
“Um, yeah.” She withdrew her hand with a twinge of regret. “I’m Donna.”
“I work with Kelli. At the hospital.” Toni nodded. “I’m a nurse. I’m new to Charlottesville, and Kelli thought it would be nice for me to meet some other people, and it was really nice of her and Jules to have me. Jules is great. I was so nervous about meeting her, I mean, Kelli talks about her all the time, and she’s great. Kind of intimidating, you know? But really great. You know them both?”
Donna nodded. “Yes. I’ve known Jules since college, and Kelli since she and Jules met.”
“Sorry, I know I’m talking a lot, but I’m just really nervous, meeting new people.” Toni stood there, her hands wringing the stem of her wine glass. “And spilling things on people. That makes me nervous, too. Not a good way to meet someone, you know? I really am sorry.”
For a long moment, Toni actually shut up, and she and Donna stared into each other’s eyes.
“Hey.”
Jules came unexpectedly into the kitchen. Donna backed away.
“Everything okay? I heard there was a little accident.”
“It’s fine.” Donna managed a small smile. “It really is okay.”
Jules’s gaze moved back and forth between them. “I take it introductions aren’t necessary?”
“No,” Toni said with a nervous laugh. “I think I made an impression she won’t forget. I mean, you always hope you’ll make a memorable impression on someone, but it doesn’t usually involve a permanent stain on her clothing.”
Donna dipped her head to one side. “You are indelible.”
Kelli turned off the bathroom light and crawled gently into bed. “You asleep?”
“Not yet.”
Kelli turned on her side, her head resting on Jules’s shoulder. “It was a nice party. Thanks for going along with it.”
Jules kissed Kelli’s forehead. “No need to thank me. Donna made a new friend tonight.”
“Who?”
“Toni.”
Kelli lifted her head. “Really? I haven’t been able to tell if she’s family. I just invited her because she’s new here and seems really nice.”
“Well, she spilled wine all over Donna’s sweater. If that’s not a good beginning, I don’t know what is.”
“Poor Toni. She does seem a little accident-prone.” Kelli paused, her hand resting against Jules’s neck where the artery pulsed. “Last year is kind of a blur. Just Mom being sick and doctors and traveling every other day.”
“I know.” Jules yawned. “We’ll have a normal Christmas this year.”
Kelli hummed “We Three Kings” as she packed a few boxes full of her pottery. She held the pots up, choosing the ones she wanted to take to Elaine’s studio and padding them with towels for protection. She reached for another one and paused. There, unfinished, was the special pot she’d been making last year for her mother. It was modeled after one her mom had admired in a museum once, and Kelli had spent hours on it, starting over six times before she got the shape right. She had intended it as a Christmas present…before her mother’s cancer was diagnosed. She touched a gentle finger to it now. She’d never been able to bring herself to finish it. She cleared her throat and packed one last box. The cats looked up sleepily as she carried the boxes out to the garage and placed them in the cargo area of her Tahoe.
The air was cold, and the sky was filled with low, leaden clouds that threatened snow. The studio, as expected, was decorated to the hilt, with enormous wreaths on the doors and festive bows in all of the windows. Christmas music played through the speakers and the air smelled of cinnamon and cloves when Kelli opened the door to carry the first box in.
“Kelli!”
Elaine rushed over to greet her with an air kiss on each cheek.
“How have you been, Elaine?”
They went back outside to gather more boxes.
“Wonderful. Just wonderful.” Elaine looked askance at Kelli. “When I called, I wasn’t sure you were still okay having contact with me.”
Kelli laughed. “Just because things didn’t work out between you and Donna doesn’t mean we can’t stay friends. Besides, you’re my best cust
omer. I was worried you wouldn’t want any more of my pottery.”
“My customers love your work. And I’m glad you feel that way.”
They carried the boxes inside and Elaine pulled a few out. “Oh, Kelli, you are getting better and better. These are exquisite.”
“Thanks.” Kelli reached into one of the boxes. “Here’s a list of what I brought. Anything you don’t need just set aside, and I can come back to get them.”
“Do you have time for a cup of tea?”
“Sure.”
Kelli took her coat off and followed Elaine back to an antique sideboard set up with coffee maker and delicate china cups and saucers.
“Most of my customers prefer coffee, but this will make tea also.” Elaine held out a basket with a selection of teas.
They sat while the machine churned out hot water.
“So how have you and Carrie been?”
Elaine positively glowed. “She’s wonderful.” A frown creased her brow. “I imagine you’re still seeing Donna, so I feel a little guilty talking to you about Carrie, but we fit together so much better than Donna and I ever did.”
Kelli stirred some sugar into her tea. “I can see that,” she said evenly, trying to hide her dislike of Carrie.
Elaine must have sensed something. “I mean, I know Carrie tried to make a play for Jules, but I hope you can let that go.”
Kelli forced a smile. “Of course.”
Elaine leaned forward and laid a hand on Kelli’s knee. “We’ll have you and Jules over after the holidays. You need to see what we’ve done with the house.”
Fat chance of getting Jules over there, but Kelli kept that thought to herself.
Kelli got up to join Jules for breakfast, though she had the day off.
“I’m going to drive up and see Dad today,” she said as she scooped coffee into the coffeemaker. “He called and asked if I would. I feel bad. I haven’t been up to see him for a few weeks.”
Jules scrambled eggs for both of them. “You shouldn’t feel bad. You and Marianne were going up there two or three times a week for months. You’ve eased off gradually. He has to figure out how to rebuild his life on his own.”
Do You Feel What I Feel. a Holiday Anthology Page 21
