I'm starting a new series called ...And other stories. It's basically my Christmas treasury. I will be posting a new holiday themed short story hopefully every week (give or take, based on my free time) until Christmas.
Enjoy.
"The Hearth"
It was difficult to talk to my sister because I was being repeatedly hit in the head with a plastic candy cane full of M&Ms. I adjusted my four year old daughter on my hip with one hand and raised the other to deflect her relentless clubbing. "I know I didn't make much sense on the phone. Thanks for letting us come with such short notice," I said.
"Logan," my sister said, "What else would have I done? Come in, you must be freezing." She opened the screen door from the inside. I reached out to hold it open, and received a sharp whack on the side of the head with the candy cane. I stepped inside the warm entryway and placed my daughter on her feet beside me. I heard the soft pattering of feet on the stairs and saw my niece, Kendra, emerging onto the landing.
"Can Laura play?" the sweet seven year old asked.
I bent down and kissed my Laura on her pale pink cheek. "Go ahead," I whispered. She kicked off her pink clogs and ran up to join her cousin, noisily shaking her plastic candy cane as she went.
I turned to my sister. "Marie," I started, "I'm so sorry. It's the day before Christmas Eve. I don't want to be a burden on you. I just don't know what else to do. I just want Laura to have a Christmas, what with...everything else that's been going on..." I rubbed the side of my head that had been bludgeoned with the candy cane. Marie's hand came down on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her and let a few tears fall into her thick dark brown hair.
My wife, my beautiful wife Julia, had walked out of our beautiful family the day after Thanksgiving. Not even a month ago. And then today... I had got off work, picked up Laura from daycare, and taken her home to our apartment building to find it releasing plumes of black smoke into the sky and surrounded by fire trucks.
I had stopped just long enough to confirm that our home and all of our belongings were likely destroyed with the building manager, who was standing on the side of the road, before taking my now crying daughter to the grocery store. I let Laura roam the candy aisle and choose a treat while I decided what to do. I had the slacks, polo, and sweater on my back, a briefcase full of papers and an empty chip bag, a temperamental 1998 Toyota Corolla, a pink flowered lunchbox with a few crumbs inside, and my beautiful Laura. At least my beautiful little daughter was safe. But her Christmas was gone. The presents I'd gotten for her, the gifts sent from my mother, everything Laura had asked for had been tucked safely in the back of my closet. And that had been destroyed in flames.
Our cozy little home had been destroyed. It was two days before Christmas, and I didn't have a home. I watched Laura's pale blonde head bobbing up and down the aisle, searching for the best candy treat as I scrolled through the contacts on my cell phone. My sister Marie and her husband Don lived about forty minutes down the highway. We could stay with her. Maybe. I dialed the number and rubbed a hand over my forehead. I wished I'd taken off my coat before I'd made the call; I was sweating profusely. "Marie?" I said as soon as the line picked up. "Our apartment... is on fire... We, me and Laura, need to spend Christmas..."
As soon as I'd been given an affirmative from Marie, I collected Laura from the next aisle over where she'd been trying to lift a ten pound bag of sugar, purchased one adult and one child toothbrush, one adult and one child toothpaste, a gallon of milk, a new yellow sippy cup, a takeaway fried chicken and mac and cheese dinner, and Laura's chosen plastic candy cane full of M&Ms. Then I patiently waited in line at the store's cafe for a much needed cup of coffee. I took a great swig, burned my tongue, loaded the groceries and my daughter into the car, and left for Marie's.
"I just want Laura to have Christmas," I whispered into Marie's hair.
"Don't worry. She will," Marie said. "Here, come in and sit down. I'll make you some coffee."
"I've got groceries in the car," I suddenly remembered.
"Logan, you didn't have to. I've already got dinner started," Marie exclaimed.
By the time I'd brought in the bags, Marie was standing in the entrance to the living room with two steaming mugs in her hands. "I didn't know what flavor you'd like, so I made gingerbread mocha," she explained.
"Fancy girly coffee," I scoffed. I tried to smile as I took my mug, but my eyes got teary again.
Marie led me to sit down on the sofa. "Everything will be okay, Logan," she said, "Just focus on right now. We'll have a happy Christmas together. Then we'll get you back on your feet, okay?" I nodded, staring into the hearth. Three stockings hung from the mantlepiece. They were large, red, and embroidered with names: one each for Kendra, Marie, and Don.
I took a sip of my coffee. It tasted so good; my body was craving caffeine, fat, and sugar. I downed the rest in a huge gulp. "Looks like you enjoyed that fancy girly coffee," Marie joked.
"I was hungry," I confessed.
"Oh, I should get dinner. Don will be home soon," she fussed.
"I got chicken. And mac and cheese," I supplied.
"From Safeway?" Marie asked. "Really Logan, you know how packed with fat that crap is. You really shouldn't be giving Laura stuff like that..." She began to lecture me, but soon trailed off. I guess she remembered that my wife just left me and my apartment burned down. I remembered again that my wife just left me and my apartment burned down.
"Marie?" I asked, "Can I have a glass of wine?" She brought me a short glass of chardonnay, then turned to the oven and popped the bread inside to warm.
I took a long drought of wine, voiced my primary concern. "I need to go Santa shopping," I sighed, "All of my gifts for Laura...they're...gone." I wanted to cry. Instead, I finished my wine.
"I'll give you Don's number," Marie said. "Tell him what she wants. He can stop by Toys R Us tomorrow on his way home from work."
"You'd do that? Buy Laura's presents?" I asked.
"Of course. You shouldn't have to worry about that," Marie said, splashing more wine into my glass.
"Wow," I mused. "That's so kind of you. But no, I need to do it. I want to do it. I'll go tomorrow. You can watch Laura while I'm gone?"
"Logan, of course. I'll do anything you need right now."
"I need a backrub, a bottle of wine, and a new house," I said jokingly.
"You know what I mean, Logan." Marie smiled at me across the bowl of salad she was tossing.
"I know. And thank you, Marie. So much."
The night passed quickly and mostly happily. Don arrived home offered his condolences and my choice of his pajamas, jeans, and sweatshirts. We enjoyed a nice meal of my chicken and mac and cheese along with Marie's bread, salad, and green beans. Kendra exclaimed her delight over having a cousin to play with during Christmas. Hot chocolate was drunk, the day of December 23 was officially crossed off the calendar, and Laura and Kendra headed off to bed in Kendra's bedroom. Marie hugged me tightly and made up the pull out sofa for me. I lay down to sleep thanking God for my sister and her wonderful, caring family.
When I woke the next morning, I could hear Marie and the girls having breakfast in the kitchen. I sat up on my sofa bed and stretched. I rolled my neck, and as I looked toward the hearth, I saw that two more stockings had been added. Both were made of dark green felt with neatly stitched edges. Names were written on them in gold glitter-glue. One for Laura and one for me. I stood up and headed into the kitchen. I saw Marie standing behind the counter, leaning on her elbows. To her left was the coffee decanter. To her right was her sewing basket.
"Marie, you didn't have to make us stockings," I said, "How long have you been up?"
"I wanted to," she said. "And I haven't been up long. Just long enough to make coffee and cocoa and put bread in the toaster." The toaster beeped at that moment, and the bread shot up. Marie turned around to retrieve it.
Laura began to tug at the hem of my shirt, or rather Don's shirt that I happened to be wearing. "Daddy," Laura said in her thin, sweet voice, "Aunt Marie said we're going to make fresh cookies for Santa today. And I get to crack the eggs!"
"Wow, that's an important job," I said, pushing the ever-present plastic candy cane of M&Ms to the edge of the table. Marie brought around plates of toast.
"Do you want to help us make the cookies?" Laura asked me.
"Well, I would love to help baby, but I have to go out and get some things."
"What kinds of things?"
"Well," I started. Marie shot me a look. "Just underwear and socks," I said.
"Oh," said Laura, no longer interested. Then she began to tell me the names of Santa's reindeer. "There's Fancy Dancy. And Elizabeth. And Spot Horn..."
I really did go buy some underwear and socks. Laura and I needed clothes, after all. But afterwards, I went to Toys R Us and re-bought all of the toys that Laura had wanted. I savored the time it took to choose the exact best veterinarian's playset with the perfect chocolate brown puppy and spotless purple doctor's bag. I smiled as I added the sheep counting game to my basket, then the set of plastic tea party dishes decorated with blue and yellow flowers. For a few fun extras and some variety, I added two purple and yellow matchbox cars. Finally, I added a children's illustrated Bible. With everything that had happened in the past month, it seemed to be the right time to start taking Laura to church again. I imagined Laura's face as she would unwrap each item tomorrow morning. Laura was going to have Christmas.
I arrived back at Marie's house just as Laura was cracking the eggs, so I was able to sneak the gifts into Marie's bedroom and wrap them without detection. I emerged into the kitchen and congratulated Laura and Kendra on their fantastic cooking skills. I showed Laura the Big Bird socks I'd chosen for her as proof that my shopping trip really had been a boring one.
We passed the afternoon happily eating nuts and chex mix and trying to finish a Christmas jigsaw puzzle. Don arrived home from work with hugs and kisses for all, we ate a spectacular ham dinner, and took off for Christmas Eve church. Kendra sang in the angel choir, and my little Laura fell asleep on my lap during the closing hymn. Before we left, I said three special prayers. One for my sister Marie and her wonderfully caring family. One for my wife Julia, who I still loved and hoped was safe. And one for my beautiful Laura, who I loved with all my heart, and who was going to have Christmas.
We got home and bundled the girls off to bed. Laura sleepily told me that I must go to bed right away so Santa would come. I put on Don's pajamas and lay down to feign sleep long enough to placate Laura before I could go into Marie's room and retrieve the presents. I wanted so desperately to place the little toy cars in the toe of Laura's stocking and set her wrapped vet playset under the tree.
I heard a rustling from the hall, the patter of little feet, and an odd shaking sound. I was sure I was about to hear, "Daddy, are you sleeping?" but I didn't. The little footsteps grew closer and closer. I closed my eyes, sure that Laura and Kendra were peeking on me. The shaking got louder and more frenzied. I opened my eyes a crack and peered through my lashes. My little Laura was now walking back towards the hall. She paused for a moment and whispered, "I love you Daddy." Then she pattered back upstairs. I turned over in bed and looked into the hearth. There were the four stockings. My stocking was at the very end of the row, my name glittering in gold. And peeking out from the top of my stocking was a plastic candy cane three quarters of the way full of M&Ms.
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Wow, I haven't written prose in a long time... too many research papers...
Wow! Loved it. Felt empathy, sadness, and joy. I cried, then giggled. I may almost be feeling ready for the holidays. Write more, please.
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