A Vineyard White Christmas

by Katie Winters

  Andrew’s heart darkened. He lifted his spoon again and stirred the last remains of his cereal.

  “What I mean is, the family is messy. Welcome back to the mess,” Kelli said with a sad laugh.

  Andrew dropped his chin to his chest. How could he possibly explain to her just how alone he’d been over the years? How could he explain that all he wanted, now, was the family mess, since it was the exact opposite of the emptiness he had lived through for so long?

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” Andrew said. “All I can really say, Kel, is that I’m happy to be here with you.”

  Andrew reached across the table and held onto her hand. A single tear drew a line from her eye to her chin.

  “And I’m so glad to be here with you, too,” she whispered.

  KELLI MADE THE DECISION to stick around at the old family estate, as she called it, for the rest of the day. “Mike’s always in and out during the day, meeting clients and friends and co-workers. I don’t want to get in his way. The minute one of his real estate deals goes south, he turns into a kind of monster.”

  Andrew suggested they pile into the family room and watch old movies. Kelli poured herself a second helping of Lucky Charms.

  “Yeah, me too,” Andrew said. Kelli tossed the box to him so he could top himself off.

  “Time to have a trash day with my best bud!” she cried.

  In the family room, they browsed through their mother and father’s DVD and VHS collection and made a pile of “must watch” and “maybe watch.”

  “The day is still young,” Andrew said. “We have time for at least five or six.”

  “We’d better throw a Christmas movie or two in there, for good measure,” Kelli said.

  The Christmas film they chose was, naturally, Home Alone, while the others were: Back to the Future, The Mummy, The Mummy Returns (which, in their opinion, was one of the worst films ever made), Jurassic Park, and Sleepless in Seattle, which they were both complete suckers for.

  “I remember you used to watch this and cry,” Kelli teased.

  “Come on! Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, out there looking for love? Who could resist?”

  And then their movie marathon began. Throughout the first film and even the second, Andrew kept glancing toward his sister, just to make sure she was actually there. How could this even be real? How could he be there with her, after all this time?

  Luckily, the heaviness of those feelings still allowed him plenty of time to laugh at the ridiculousness of the movies they watched, gasp playfully as one of the dinosaurs attacked another scientist, and especially as Samuel L. Jackson said, “Hold onto your butts,” which he now remembered he and Kelli quoting like crazy back when the movie had first come out in the nineties.

  Around three-thirty in the afternoon, Sleepless in Seattle cut out half-way through the film. Apparently, the DVD was scratched. Kelli got up to stretch her legs and attempt to clean the back. At that moment, the screen door screeched open and slammed shut to reveal their mother.

  Kerry Montgomery beamed at them. She looked as though she’d lost ten years off her age. She stretched her hands out toward them and said, “Your father is cleared to come home in just a few days!”

  “That’s wonderful news, Mom.”

  But there wasn’t much time to celebrate. After the hugging and the extra round of questions to figure out their father’s status, Kelli and Andrew were ordered to work.

  “This place is hardly ready for Christmas,” Kerry told them as she snapped her hands on her waist and gave the family room a once-over.

  “There’s some holly and stuff in the kitchen,” Andrew said.

  “Andrew, I know you’ve been gone a long time, but do you really expect me to stop at just-holly-in-the-kitchen during a year like this?” his mother demanded.

  A list was drawn up: the kind of list that would have made even the editor of Home and Gardens envious. At least three Christmas trees had to be purchased, apparently; a large list of ingredients had to be brought in to account for the number of Christmas cookies that needed to be baked; there were the meals to plan, now that their father would be home. Naturally, it fell to Andrew to put up the Christmas lights around the house, as Trevor couldn’t manage it this year.

  At this, his mother’s eyes traced down toward his leg. He could feel her begin to ask him something like, Are you sure you can really do that?

  “I got it, Mom,” he said. “Just tell me where the lights are.”

  “They’re in the garage with the rest of the decorations,” his mother breathed. “I can’t believe it. It’s December 15, and this house has hardly a lick of Christmas to show for it. Let’s set to work.”

  The plight of Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan soon flew out of Andrew and Kelli’s minds, to make room for the reckless nature of the next hours. As it was the end of the school day and very nearly the end of the semester, it was decided that Lexi come along with them on their errands. Kelli drove a van with Kerry in the passenger and Andrew in the second row. Lexi hopped in after pick-up and beamed at Andrew. “Hey, Uncle Andy,” she said. “Did Grandma kidnap you for the Christmas decorating extravaganza?”

  “You should count yourself lucky that I think you’re artistic enough for the task, Miss Lexi,” Kerry said from the front.

  Lexi cackled as she shrugged off her backpack and settled in beside Andrew. It was decided that they would head to the Christmas tree farm first; this way, they could get out there, grab three trees, pile them atop Kelli’s car, and head back before nightfall. Once at the Christmas tree farm, Kerry’s eyes dug into Andrew until he popped forward, grabbed the chainsaw himself, and then headed for the lines and lines of glittering, snow-capped trees.

  Lexi helped Andrew to pick out the three best: one bigger one for the front living room, a cozier, fat one for the family room, and another for the sunroom, where usually, the women gathered over Christmastime to read magazines and warm themselves in the sunlight like lizards.

  “I don’t know if you know this, Lexi, but most families in the United States don’t need more than one Christmas tree,” Andrew said as he revved the chainsaw for the second time, poised to attack that fat family room tree.

  Lexi giggled. “I’m surprised she didn’t demand six or seven, and another ten to give to Grandpa’s doctors.”

  “She has a way with that, doesn’t she?”

  “She likes to take care of people,” Lexi affirmed. “She’s tried her darndest with her brother, Great Uncle Wes. She was at the Sheridan house almost every day the past few months, checking up on him and taking him to appointments and stuff. I know Mom’s worried.”

  Everyone in this family seems worried about everyone else, like a merry-go-round of worries.

  Andrew limped each tree back to the car, grateful that his leg felt strong, even in its slowness. He and Kelli piled the trees atop the van, then strapped them down with a spare piece of rope Kelli had in the back. “It’s from waterskiing last summer,” Kelli said with a laugh. “Around Christmas time, summer always feels like a million years ago.”

  Back at the house, Kerry Montgomery had orders and plenty of them. “Kelli, you head back to the grocery store to stock up on baking supplies. Andrew, I need you to arrange all of the trees in their tree stands. Make sure to water them enough. And you, Lexi, do you think you could bring out all the Christmas decorations from the attic? Andrew, when you finish up the trees, you can head out and line the house with lights. Just make sure you keep yourself stable up there.”

  Lexi and Andrew exchanged heavy glances, ones that simmered with both annoyance and overwhelmed joy. Andrew lifted a hand and Lexi high-fived it.

  “Let’s get to work, team,” Andrew said to her.

  “Uncle Andy and Lexi on the hunt for Christmas cheer,” she returned with a funny smile.

  Andrew nearly froze atop that ladder later. His knees clacked together as he tacked the string of lights across the top of the house, furrowing his brow as he went. He could
n’t help but visualize himself as Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation: shocking himself wildly with the lights and falling to his backside below. It was a funny image on-screen, but nothing he wanted to recreate just then.

  It took a little over an hour. By the time he hobbled back down from the latter and returned to the family room, a few newcomers had joined the movie-watching-extravaganza. Steve and his daughter, Isabella, grinned with big cups of hot cocoa in their hands; Kelli and Lexi hovered around the Christmas tree and added bulbs to it as How the Grinch Stole Christmas played on-screen. His mother crossed her hands over her lap and turned her eyes up toward him. Her smile told him: all the work he’d done out there was worth it. She was thrilled.

  “Can I get you some hot cocoa, Andy?” she asked as she hopped up. “Maybe with a little bit of rum in it?”

  “Sounds good, Mom.” Andrew limped into the kitchen after his mother and watched as she boiled the water and rubbed her palms over the bubbles.

  “Thank you for doing that, Andy. You did good,” his mother said. “I can see the reflection of the lights across the snow. Your father will be so thrilled that you got them up for him. He dreads it more and more every year. Now that he’s over seventy, well... things get harder.”

  His mother turned absently to grab the cocoa container. As she reached, Andrew stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She turned into the hug as Andrew’s shoulders shook. He’d felt it like a crashing wave: he loved his mother terribly and he had missed her with every fiber of his being.

  “What was that for?” his mother asked as their hug parted. Her eyes glittered with tears.

  “I’ve missed you so much. I’m just so happy to be home,” he told her.

  “We’ve missed you so much, too. We love you more than life itself,” she said as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’s so wonderful to have you home for the holidays.”

  HOURS LATER, STEVE, Isabella, Kelli, and Lexi were all bundled up to head home. Andrew made heavy eye contact with Kelli, squeezed her wrist, and whispered, “You’ll tell me if you need anything, right?”

  “It’s time to head home,” Kelli said under her breath.

  In the hollowness of the aftermath, Kerry and Andrew sat alone in the family room with another round of hot cocoa and just enough rum to keep their minds at peace. They were in the middle of another Christmas classic from the ‘00s—The Holiday. Andrew had been in Afghanistan when they’d screened it for them. He remembered it: the strange heat of Christmas, the feeling that this wasn’t the way things had been meant to be.

  “She’s so beautiful, isn’t she?” his mother said as Kate Winslet walked onto the screen. “Those eyes. They remind me of Charlotte’s eyes.”

  “There’s something about that,” Andrew agreed.

  “She’s really come to life since she met that Everett character,” his mother said. “I can’t wait to spend more time with him when he comes over from LA. I hope he stays. Your sister really needs a win, after all that happened. Jason’s death nearly destroyed her. When you went away, I felt like I couldn’t breathe properly for weeks. I can’t imagine what Charlotte went through. Jason never came back from that day of fishing. It’s enough to give you nightmares.”

  Andrew pondered this for a long time. Finally, he said, “I’m a bit nervous to see Dad.”

  “It’s understandable,” his mother returned. “There’s so much chaos between the two of you—so much unsaid.”

  “I don’t even know if it’s possible to get through it,” Andrew breathed.

  “Don’t you want to see if you can find a way through all this pain?” his mother asked him. “Don’t you want to at least try? Don’t for a minute, think that he doesn’t love you. That he isn’t partially to blame for you leaving. This is not all on you and besides, it’s Christmas time—a time for forgiveness and bringing families together once again. It’s the most magical time of the year.”

  Deep down, he knew his mother was right. It was Christmas time and he knew he had to make things right once and for all. It was, after all— like his mother stated, the most magical time of the year.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Three days later, it was December 18. Already, it was seven days before Christmas, and the Montgomery family home was vibrant with holiday cheer—constantly simmering with smells of Christmas cookies and the roaring fireplace and whatever clam chowder or meat pie someone had made. Andrew stood before his childhood mirror and adjusted his button-up shirt, which he had chosen to wear for his father’s pick-up. He had decided to greet his father now rather than while he was in the hospital recuperating. He didn’t want to experience another PTSD episode in front of his dad. But now, his mother was exhausted, and the other siblings were occupied, so Andrew had decided to bite the bullet and pick up his father himself. It was the kind of thing a brave man would do, and he wanted to be able to tell himself he was a brave man.

  And hadn’t his father always wanted to raise a son who could be brave in the face of difficult things?

  Andrew borrowed his mother's car. He waved goodbye to her through the kitchen window as he backed out of the driveway and into the plowed road. He was grateful that his leg remained at a dull ache, rather than a sharp pain, all the way through his drive.

  When he reached the hospital, he headed toward the rehabilitation center, where his mother had told him his father would be discharged. Outside the window of the exercise area, Andrew was surprised to find that his father’s rehabilitation nurse was none other than Beth Leopold.

  There she stood: a woman he had very much loved as a teenager; a woman who seemed to understand the inner sadness of his soul. She spoke to Trevor Montgomery with a smile as she jotted various items onto her clipboard. His father laughed several times at what she said, as though they’d become fast friends over the course of his inpatient treatment.

  Andrew remained in the hallway with his hands tucked into his pants pockets. His legs and his heart had given up on him. In the next minutes, he would say the first words he’d said to his father in years.

  Beth stepped around his father’s wheelchair. She turned her head toward the far end of the room, where a young boy appeared in a thick winter coat and an oversized red backpack. The boy was adorable, with a dark bowl-cut and round, curious eyes. Andrew remembered that Beth’s son had autism; perhaps this was why he’d come to work with her that day.

  Beth snapped her hand over the automatic door opener. Together, the three of them emerged into the drafty hallway. Andrew’s eyes turned from Beth’s down to his father’s, where the old man looked at him with heavy sadness etched across his face. Within his father’s face, he felt the question: Can we actually fix the past?

  Instead, Trevor Montgomery’s first words to his son were, “Andrew, you look just like your grandfather when he was your age. It’s remarkable. You two could have been twins.”

  At first, Andrew wasn’t sure what to say. It felt so strange to be compared to the long-gone man now, but it also felt oddly comforting to know that he had a lineage. He’d come from somewhere.

  “You’ll have to show me some pictures,” Andrew said. “Shag and all?” He gestured to his beard.

  “Shag and all,” his father affirmed. “The man had an incredible beard.”

  “Mom asked me to shave it today,” Andrew said with a laugh. “Old habits die hard with mothers.”

  “Seems that way,” his father said good-naturedly. “The woman still worries if Steven has a warm coat or if Claire is eating enough. Sometimes it’s torture. Other times, it’s comforting, knowing that the limit to how much she cares for all of us doesn’t exist.”

  Andrew nodded. After a pause, he said, “It’s good to see you, Dad.”

  “You too, Andy.”

  They held one another’s gaze for a long time until little Will stepped up beside his mother, gripped her hand, and said, “Mommy, do you think we could go home soon?” The words broke the spell and both Andrew and Trevor laughed.
<
br />   “Poor kid, having to deal with us all this time,” Trevor said.

  “Take as much time as you need,” Beth said. Her cheeks brightened to crimson. “Baby, we’ll stop at McDonald’s on the way home, okay? You’ve been so patient today.”

  “McDonald’s? I’m pretty jealous of that,” Andrew said.

  “Me too,” his father affirmed.

  They exchanged glances. Suddenly, the idea of being alone together seemed like the most terrifying thing in the world.

  “You two can join us if you like,” Beth said softly.

  IT WAS THE STRANGEST group of four in the world. Andrew pushed his father’s wheelchair out onto the sidewalk that flanked the hospital. The rushing wind brought bright tears from his eyes as they headed toward his mother’s car. There, Beth assisted him in placing his father in the backseat of the vehicle before he folded up the wheelchair and put it in the trunk.

  “We’ll see you over there, then,” Beth said as she gripped Will’s hand and gave Andrew a firm nod.

  “Yep. See you.”

  Andrew got into the driver’s seat and turned to check on his father. He’d managed to buckle himself with his good arm, and he stared straight ahead, his chin lifted.

  “You ready to get out of here, Dad?” Andrew asked.

  “Never been more ready for anything in my life,” his father returned.

  At the McDonald’s, Andrew stood in line for the three of them while his father sat in his wheelchair at a table across from Beth and Will. Will chattered excitedly about the new line of McDonald’s toys, and Andrew’s father asked questions as they went, which seemed to add fuel to Will’s excitement. Andrew turned back to catch Beth’s eye. When he did, he winked at her—something he hadn’t done in years. She blushed all over again.

  “New friends?” she mouthed, referring to Trevor and Will.