Merry Ex-Mas

by Christopher Murray, Victoria

  "Angel!" I hissed and grabbed my daughter's wrist just as she was about to jump into the crowd. "What is this? Some kind of party?"

  "No, Mom," Angel laughed. "Not a party. Just Christmas dinner. This is how Dad and Mom Caroline do it for every holiday. They had almost fifty people here for Thanksgiving dinner."

  Fifty people?

  "Dad said that today there're gonna be about one hundred people because of Grandma and Grandpa's anniversary."

  Who throws a party like this on Christmas?

  "Sweetheart!"

  Both Angel and I turned at the sound of Bobby's voice.

  "Hi, Daddy," Angel squealed as she leapt into his arms. Then, "Mom Caroline, Merry Christmas," she giggled as she wrapped her arms around her stepmother.

  I didn't even notice Bobby's wife because my eyes stayed on Bobby. Six years later, and I was still going “hmph, hmph, hmph” whenever I saw him. But on the outside, I stayed as still as stone. Like he had no effect on me whatsoever.

  But the way they were acting, as if they didn't notice me, I didn't have a chance to do my aloof act.

  "I'm telling you," Caroline said with just a hint of a Southern drawl, "you have grown two inches since I saw you." Then, she wrapped Angel inside her arms, as if Angel belonged to her.

  "Mom, you saw me two weekends ago," Angel whined and laughed at the same time.

  I squinted. There was that "Mom" again. And my eyes narrowed even more as the trio kissed and hugged as if they were a family.

  "We have lots of gifts for you under the tree," Bobby said.

  The greetings went on and on and on and I just stood there, shifting from one leg to the other. I swear I wanted to moonwalk right out of there. But I kept thinking about Angel…Angel…Angel.

  "But before we do that, you have to say hello to everyone," Caroline said, taking Angel's hand. Then, leaning in closer, she added, "There are some very special people waiting to see you."

  And still, I stood there, completely unnoticed. As Caroline led my daughter away, I could feel that green monster jealousy thing rising up inside of me. This is my child, I wanted to scream out.

  Luckily, I didn't have a chance to do that because Angel had only taken a couple of steps away before she stopped. "Uh…Dad, Mom Caroline…" She turned around and ran back to me. "Mom's here, remember?"

  Bobby shook his head slightly. "I'm so sorry." He took two giant steps back to where I was. "I get caught up with Angel every time." Then he gave me one of those Sunday hugs between church folks where there was two miles of space between us. "Merry Christmas, and thanks for coming."

  "Merry Christmas, and thanks for having me." I squeezed the words through my lips.

  Caroline didn't move from where she stood. "I'm sorry, I didn't even see you standing there. Merry Christmas," she said in a tone that didn't sound anything like she wanted me there. Then she held out her hand to Angel. "Come on, dear, your grandparents are waiting for you."

  Angel looked up, and I nodded. "I'm right behind you."

  With her long stride, Angel caught up to Caroline, but before Bobby and I could follow, the doorbell rang.

  Without saying a word, he turned toward the front door, leaving me all by myself again. I looked to the left, then to the right, and decided to follow Angel and Caroline into the living room.

  Now, I knew I was living a grand life, but standing here, I felt like I was living like a pauper. The living room hadn't been redecorated, and with the golden paint on the walls and all of the traditional furniture, you could tell that Caroline and Bobby were used to more than fine living. Their lives were all about elegant living.

  "Mom, Dad," Caroline called out. "Look who's here."

  A man and a woman turned, faced Caroline and Angel, and their smiles were immediate.

  "Grandpa, Grandma," Angel exclaimed.

  The way Angel called out to them made me raise my eyebrows. I could tell right off that these were Caroline's parents. I mean, one look at the woman—who was about five-seven, very toned and slender with silver hair that was pulled back in a bun—and you knew she was related to Caroline.

  As Angel ran over to them and they hugged her, once again, I was left standing on the outside of the inner circle.

  For a moment, I thought about going over to Caroline's parents and introducing myself. But I already felt like an intruder; there was no way I was gonna put myself out and end up feeling worse.

  So, I just stayed on the side and watched Angel. It was so weird; this was the first time that I was seeing her in her other life. As they kept on hugging and kissing her, I wondered why Angel had never told me about Caroline's parents.

  But then, how could I blame my daughter? It wasn't like I was warm and fuzzy whenever Angel talked about Caroline and Bobby. In fact, when she came home raving about this and that while she was with her father, I would just put on my headphones and turn the volume all the way up.

  Now, I wished that I hadn't acted like that. I needed to be in every part of Angel's life. And it was going to start today. Right here. At this Christmas dinner.

  I moved my eyes away from Angel for a moment, and then looked into the crowd that filled the living room. Without even knowing any of them, I could tell they were really sophisticated, far above my social grade. It was the way they stood and the way they chatted. Some of the men were smoking pipes—did people still do that?—and the women all sat with their ankles crossed and their backs straight as boards.

  They sampled hors d'oeuvres and sipped champagne from the waiters who moved through the crowd almost unnoticed.

  "Would you like something to drink?" a petite Asian woman asked me as she balanced the tray on one hand. "This is champagne," she said.

  I leaned over. "Do you have any wine? Moscato?"

  The woman smiled and nodded. "I'll bring you a glass," she whispered.

  Good! Now, with a glass of Moscato, I'd be able to handle the rest of the evening. I stepped all the way into the living room into the mass of guests. This was still a bit overwhelming. I thought there were just going to be eight people here—the parents, Bobby and Caroline, and me and Angel.

  But this…this was an event.

  As I strolled through the gathering, I heard pieces of their worldly conversations about Syria and Russia, about the stock market and interest rates, about being bundlers for the next presidential election—if Hillary chose to run.

  I shook my head. Didn't any of these people know that it was Christmas? I should've had Noon here with me. Me and my best friend would've shaken this crowd up. Yeah, we could've told them about Stevie and Joseline and Momma Dee. I giggled at that thought. Can you imagine the looks on these people's faces? Oh, yeah. A little Love and Hip Hop would really have taken the starch out of these stiff shirts.

  "Here's your glass," the woman interrupted my thoughts. "Just let me know if you want another one."

  "Thank you," I said, wanting to give the woman a kiss or at least a hug. I took that first sip and almost moaned out loud. After a second sip, I searched through the living room for Angel. But she was nowhere to be found. So, I took another sip, and kept walking through. I guess I was kinda searching for someone to look up, make eye contact, and invite me to join their crew. But as I eased by the people, I felt as if no one could see me. Like I was completely invisible. Of course, there were a few men who passed me a smile on the sly.

  I sighed. From the time I was a kid 'til now, women didn't like me, and I knew it had a lot to do with my looks. And men…well, they only saw me for one thing, and I knew it had a lot to do with my looks. My looks: the story of my life.

  But I wasn't even sure that I wanted anybody to ask me to join them. Because if they did, what would I say? I couldn't even be able to find Russia on a map—and I didn't care.

  So I found a chair in the corner of the room, sat down, leaned back, crossed my legs, then sipped my wine until my glass was empty. I placed my glass on the floor, but it was only there for a moment. Another glass appeared, fi
lled with my beloved Moscato. Clearly my wine supplier understood what it was like for me to be here.

  A few more sips, and I became a connoisseur of the crowd. I figured out what each man did for a living, and I was convinced of why each of the women hated me.

  But then, I wondered. I had been with Bobby for ten years, and he had never shared this world with me. Why not?

  When we were together, our lives were filled with only two things: lots of partying with his Laker buddies and lots of sex at home. It was wonderful to me, but then again, I was nineteen, twenty, and twenty-one.

  But what would have happened if Bobby had exposed me to more? What would've happened if when I were twenty-two, and twenty-three, and twenty-four, Bobby had taken me out to meet people like the ones who were here? Or if when I were twenty-five, twenty-six, and twenty-seven he would have taken me to the theatre, and the opera, and the ballet?

  If he had done any of that, would I have matured into a woman that he would've wanted to really call his own? If he had done all of that, would he have still dumped me when I was twenty-eight? Or would he have still chosen Caroline because not only was she already refined, but she was a woman who had her own means?

  I shook her head. Bobby and I were old news, so why was I wasting any time even thinking about him? I needed to get away from these funky thoughts quick!

  I stood up, but then, I stood still. Where was I going to go? I hadn't seen Angel in a while. And even Bobby and Caroline were nowhere in sight.

  Strolling over to the fireplace, I studied the gold frames on the mantel. These pictures told the story of the Johnsons. Pictures of Bobby and Caroline, all hugged up and happy. And then there were pictures of Bobby, Caroline, and Angel.

  I picked up the photo on the end. The three were on a beach, holding each other and smiling like this was the best time of their lives. I had to put that one down. But then, I made another mistake and picked up another picture. This one was with Caroline and Angel, both in sapphire gowns. And Bobby stood in the middle in a tuxedo.

  This was my child, but they had claimed Angel as theirs. It was like Caroline had stolen my life!

  I put the photo back in place, then glanced around at the room, the furniture, the people. This should have all been mine, and it would've been if Bobby had nurtured me and then made the right choice.

  "Would you like another glass?"

  My Asian friend was back, and it wasn't until she asked the question that I even realized my glass was once again empty.

  But just a few moments after I said, "Yes," I had a new glass in my hand. This time, though, the wine didn't make me feel as good as before. No matter how fast I drank it.

  I strolled back over to my chair, plopped down a little harder than I'd planned to, and as Nat King Cole crooned about chestnuts roasting, I took quite a few more sips of my wine.

  And then, I don't know why it happened, but tears started streaming down my face. I put down my glass and held my head in my hands.

  This was a miserable Christmas, and what was worse was that I had no place else to go.

  Chapter 13

  "Mom!" Angel tried to whisper. "What's wrong?"

  I lifted my head and had to blink a couple of times to bring my daughter into focus. "What?"

  "You're crying. What's wrong?"

  "I'm not crying," I said as I wiped my eyes. "It's just that…I couldn't find you…and I was sitting here alone," I sobbed.

  "Mom," Angel looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching us.

  But all around us, the Christmas celebration continued with music and laughter. Just like for the hour that I'd been here, no one seemed to notice me.

  Angel slid onto the arm of the chair and put her arm around me. "I'm sorry you were by yourself, but I was with Mom and Dad…"

  "She's not your mother," I snapped.

  "You know what I mean. I've just been walking through the party because there were people they wanted me to meet."

  "Well," I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand, "while you were walking around, I've been by myself."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I don't have anybody to talk to."

  "You can talk to anybody."

  "I don't fit in here. I know it and everybody here knows it, too."

  "If you talk to them, I'm sure they'll talk back to you. Remember what you used to tell me? You have to be friendly to make friends."

  I couldn't believe that she was throwing back stuff at me. Yeah, I was right to tell her that, but that was when she was in kindergarten! This was different.

  I guess it was my silence that made Angel say, "I won't leave you anymore."

  I hated that I was whiny and clingy. What I wanted to do was tell Angel to just go off with her father and stepmother. I'd be fine. After all, I was a grown woman; I could certainly sit in a room by myself.

  But being here around these people…I didn't feel grown. Really, at this moment, Angel probably felt more grown than I did.

  So after Angel told me that she wouldn't leave me, all I could say was, "Thanks."

  And right at that moment, Caroline hurried into the room and zeroed in on Angel.

  "Sweetheart, come here," she motioned with her hand. "The Petersons, the couple we were telling you about from New York, just arrived. I want you to meet them."

  Angel nodded, stood, and took my hand. "Come on," she whispered.

  I shook my head. "I don't think Caroline wants to introduce me to anybody."

  "Of course she does," Angel said. "And anyway, anybody who wants to meet me should get to meet my fabulous mom."

  For the first time since I got here, I smiled. "You're such a good daughter." Then I stood up, and wobbled a bit. "Whoa." I had to hold onto Angel to steady myself.

  "Mom," Angel whispered, "are you drunk?"

  "Drunk? No. I'd have to drink to get drunk, and I've only had a couple of glasses of wine. I just stood up too fast. Felt a little dizzy, but I'm good now."

  "Okay," Angel said, though she gripped my hand a little tighter.

  As Angel walked, I did my best to keep up with her. It was already hard enough because she had such a long stride. But now, I was unsteady on my feet. How many glasses of wine had I finished off?

  Angel zigzagged through the guests (making me even more dizzy) as she made her way from the living room, through the foyer, to the other side of the house, where Caroline stood at the door of the library, chatting with a man and a woman.

  "Mom," Angel called out to Caroline and I could feel it…my blood pressure was rising.

  With a smile, Caroline turned, but then she frowned when she looked at me. The smile was still in her voice, though, when Caroline said, "Come here, sweetheart, I want you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Peterson." Turning to the couple, Caroline said, "This is our daughter, Angel."

  "It is wonderful to meet you," the man with snow-white hair that almost matched his skin said. "You are as beautiful as your mother said."

  Caroline put her arms around Angel's shoulders and beamed.

  "Yes," the woman standing next to the man piped in, "you're simply lovely."

  "Uh…" I grunted.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," Angel said. She smiled as she began, "This is…"

  Before she could finish, Caroline cut Angel off, "Oh, yes, this is Asia."

  "Nice to meet you, Asia," the man and the woman said together.

  I frowned. That's it? That's how she was going to introduce me? She was dismissing me like I wasn't an important part of this relationship.

  "So, young lady," Mr. Peterson said to Angel, "we have a lot to talk about."

  "Excuse me," I jumped in. My voice came out a little louder than I expected. "My name is Asia, Angel's mother."

  The man glanced at Caroline, then turned back to me with a look that told me he didn't have any idea what I was talking about.

  So, I made it clear to him. "I'm Asia, Angel's mother," I said, using my thumb to point to my chest the whole time.

  "We know that
," Caroline said, though her lips hardly moved. Then she had the nerve to turn her back on me. And I'm telling you, I was about to go all the way off.

  My daughter knew me well, though. She could feel it; she knew it was about to be on. "Mom," she whispered. "Mom, please."

  "Please what?" I asked; this time I didn't even try to keep my voice down.

  Angel took my hand and pulled me away.

  "Where are we going?" I grumbled. I wanted to jerk my arm away from the hold she had on me. I wanted to curse Caroline out and then just go home.

  But instead, I followed my daughter as she dragged me through the long hallway and back into the kitchen where chefs and waitstaff moved about, putting the final touches on the dinner. Together, we weaved through the space until we were on the other side, standing in the breakfast nook.

  While the staff rushed around us, Angel whispered, "Mom, what are you doing?"

  "What're you talking about?"

  "I'm talking about out there," Angel said, pointing toward the front of the house. "You were acting all mad and talking loud."

  "You need to talk to your evil stepmother. What was Broom Hilda trying to do, huh? Introducing you as her daughter."

  "Mom, she always does that."

  "Then she needs to stop it." I leaned in closer. "She is not your mother."

  Angel backed up, frowning. I guess she could smell the wine on my breath. "I know she's not my mother," she said. "Everybody knows that she's not my mother. She just doesn't like to use the word 'step.' And neither do I, 'cause Mom Caroline has always been nice to me."

  "Well, she isn't being nice to me. She invited me over here just to make me feel like a fool."

  "No, she didn't! She's just busy because there are so many people here, and she has to make sure that everything is right. If she wasn't so busy, she would talk to you more. She really wants you here, but Mom, you've got to act right."

  "Act right?" I felt my shoulders hunch up and I crossed my arms. "Who are you talking to that way? I'm not even doing anything. In fact, you know what? Let me just get the hell out of here."

  "No! Mom, please!" She paused, she blinked, she swallowed as if she were trying to hold back tears and sobs. "I just want everybody to get along, and I really want you here with me. It's Christmas."