Chapter 6 - Christmas 2008

My sister, the ‘accident’ of the family, was almost twelve years younger than me. When I was a teen, I remember her always wanting to be a mother. I’m still single and childless, simply based on the fact that she’s had enough for the lot of us.

My plane landed. I grabbed my bags and headed through the terminal. I wasn’t sure how many of the five children were going to be there. My sister liked to surprise me.

            Uncles aren’t supposed to play favorites, but her eldest and only boy, Grayson, was mine. I used to call him fathead when he was barely old enough to speak. That evolved into ‘Angela, you’ve seen how big his teeth are right?” To which I’d suffer a back handed blow to the arm and laughter would soon follow.

            As I stepped on the escalator, a sign reading, Weclome to Forida Unlce Sal, was being held in front of four pairs of little feet, the ribbons in their hair just barely peeking over the top of the poster. As a writer, I wanted to scream, but as an uncle, it was the cutest thing I had ever seen.

            “All five huh?” I said as I gave my sister a hug.

            “Harvey’s at work and the only one that can stay home by himself wanted to come,” she said, squeezing my cheeks like the mother she is.

            “Where did my little fathead go,” I said, pulling Grayson in for a hug. “You’re almost as tall as I am.”

            “That’s not saying much,” he jeered.

            “Hey now. I still have some embarrassing pictures of you I can gladly show your little girlfriends.”

            “I don’t have any girlfriends,” he said.

            “Ah, but one day you will, so remember that.”

            After handing Grayson one of my bags, I knelt down to get smothered with kisses and hugs from my four nieces: Kristi, Paula, Vivian, and Margo. “I’ve missed you all so much,” I said, my voice muffled through their arms.

            “We missed you too,” they said.

            My face was covered in different colored lipstick and glitter, but it was the most relaxed I’d felt in weeks.

            “Now your uncle is here for work too, so he’s not going to be able to spend every waking moment with you.” Angela herded the girls outside, across the street, and into their waiting van.

            Grayson and I walked several feet behind, chatting about sports. He said he was planning on learning to surf.

            “I’m surprised you haven’t learned already. You do live thirty-seconds from the beach. And it’s Florida, everyone knows how to surf.”

            Grayson stuffed my bags into the back and whispered, “Yeah but mom was afraid of everything. ‘What if I bump my head and drown?’ ‘What if I get eaten by a shark?’’ He shook his head in frustration.

            I couldn’t help but laugh. It sounded exactly like my sister.

            The forty-minute car ride back to their beach house was filled with loud singing and laughter, the girls encouraging me to ‘let loose and dance.’

            “Can you take the girls to the back-patio Grayson. Sal and I will meet you there,” Angela said as we walked into the house. “And don’t let any of them go down to the water until we are outside.”

            “Yes mom,” he said, running to his room to change.

            Angela poured two glasses of wine and we sat it in the kitchen. “What’s been going on?” she asked, sliding a glass over. “I feel like when you come down is the only time I get to really talk to you.”

            “Well, you have a family. And my life isn’t exactly that exciting.” I swirled the wine in the glass before having a taste, pretending I was a connoisseur.

“Our lives aren’t that much different when you think about it. You probably wake up, feed your dog, read the news, go into your office, write the news, eat lunch, chat with coworkers, go to the bar, head home and do it all over again.” She laughed, taking a sip of her wine. “My life is the same, you just need to replace children and husband with a few of those, and the occasional basketball game or dance recital.”

Understanding her logic, I nodded my head.

“You know, for a man of words, you don’t say much.”

“I’ve been that way my entire life. That’s why I write. It gives me an opportunity to think

about what I want to say rather than just spewing every thought from my mouth.”

“So, what you’re saying is, I spew?” she said, bursting with laughter. “Okay, you’re totally right. But most Italian women do.”

“Which is why Harvey must love you so much. You aren’t afraid to say what’s on your

mind.” I took another sip of wine, then set the glass down and arched my back.

“So what stories are you working on right now?” she asked.

“Nothing too exciting down here, but I’m actually working on a novel.”

Angela swung her arm across the table and hit me. “What the heck Sal. That’s the kind of thing I want to hear about.”

“Sorry,” I said, rubbing my arm. “It’s still in the beginning stages. But, it’s about a woman with Alzheimer’s and the struggle she and her family have as she gets worse.” I stood and walked to the back door, looking out at the ocean. “She’s one of the most loving, and loved women I’ve ever met. The community calls her, Mama.”

Angela slammed her palm on the kitchen table. “It’s about a real person? I thought you were making the story up as you went along.”

“No, I read an article about her a while back. There was something about it that drew me in. I guess I was thinking about how awful it would be to forget my family, or watch someone I loved forget me.”

Angela stood and wrapped her arms around me, planting a kiss on my already colorful cheek. “That’s why you need a wife. I get worried with you all alone in that city.”

“Well,” I started, looking down at her with a smirk.

She pulled away and hit me again, this time even harder.

“I swear it’s nothing even close to serious at the moment. We just get along really well.” Before she could hit me a third time, I pushed open the door and ran down the steps.

Angela brought me another glass of wine and we sat in the sun, watching the girls play in the sand and Grayson fall off his board, over and over again.

 

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            “Allan, how are you?” I said the following morning, sitting on the back porch looking through my notes.

            “Doing alright. And yourself?” he asked.

            “I’m wonderful actually. Enjoying the beautiful Florida weather and spending some time with my sister’s family.”

            “That’s good, that’s good. Well I just wanted to call and give you an update on Mary-ann. I know you said you’d be gone for what, four months?”

            I swung my feet off the railing and sat up, pulling out a piece of paper. “Just under four months. I’m a guest writer down here during the winter sometimes and I’m doing a piece on sinkholes and the increase in erosion.”

            “Right, right. Well, Mary-ann’s doing okay now. I’m still looking after her. Sometimes she eats, sometimes she doesn’t. Depends on how she’s feeling.” His voice sounded weak and distant.

“But she has to eat Allan,” I said with a hint of frustration.

“Right. She gets lost sometimes, doesn’t recognize the house and it scares her. And I

can’t force the food down her throat.”

I made a note to contact Aaron, then stood and walked down to the beach.

“Well, I’ll let you go. I just wanted to tell you how things were going.” Allan exhaled

heavily into the receiver.

“Thank you, Allan. Make sure she eats something today alright, and get some rest

yourself. You sound exhausted.”

The sand was cool between my toes as I sat on a small hump. A few joggers went by and waved. A dog jumped into the water to retrieve a frisbee. I looked out at the crashing waves where Cape Romano’s Dome Houses now stood in almost five feet of water. Over a thirty-year period, the beach receded over two-hundred feet. Florida’s southern coast was getting smaller and smaller each year.

After taking a mental picture, I walked back to the house to change.

 

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            Lights blinked on and off around the house as the girls finished painting their bulb ornaments, a Christmas Eve tradition we started when Grayson was six. I hung my arm over the back of Vivian’s chair, leaning in to inspect her work.

            “That looks beautiful,” I said, nestling my chin in her neck.

            “What about mine?” Paula asked, holding a golf ball size ornament in the air and shedding a three, missing-toothed smile.

            I held my hands over my lips, letting my eyes grow wide. “That should be in a museum under a glass box it’s so wonderful.” She smiled the way little girls do when they think anything is possible. Setting the ornament down on her area of newspaper, she hopped off her seat and walked to the kitchen sink.

            “Let me help you with that,” Angela said, sliding a box under Paula’s feet and squeezing soap into her hands. “You’ve all got about ten minutes before we’re going to open one present before bed.”

            I watched as Grayson eyed the tree. There were almost as many presents as there were lights wrapped around it, piled high and some leaning against the wall.

Harvey sat in a large reclining chair in the living room working away on his laptop, the weather channel playing softly in the background. He was a financial advisor for a large pharmaceutical company and traveled six months out of the year. And the days he was home, Angela told me, were almost as if he wasn’t there either.

I certainly respected the man. Tall, handsome, a Columbia University graduate, a

provider for people who share the same blood as me. But, coming from an Italian family where we would have dinner at our grandmother’s house every Sunday, family was the most important thing in this world.

“Alright, everyone find your seats,” Angela said, directing the girls into the living room.

“Come here sweetheart,” Harvey said, closing his computer and setting it on the coffee

table. Paula, in her purple onesie, hopped into her father’s lap clutching a stuffed elephant in her hands.

            I sat on the floor with Vivian snuggled under my arm. Kristi and Margo, the twins, sat under a blanket beside their mother on the couch; and Grayson, stood next to the tree. Being the oldest, he was the designated gift finder.

            “We want to open ours together,” the twins said, their pigtails flipping from one side to the other. The only way I can tell them apart was the scar just above Margo’s eye from when she fell off her bed.

            “Paula’s first, she’s the youngest,” Grayson said, reaching down to find a present with her name on it. “Here you go.”

            “Now that’s a cute little purse,” Harvey said, tossing the wrapping paper on the ground. Paula looked up at him and smiled.

            Kristi and Margo opened their gift from me. Matching sunglasses. The face they made when they put them on said that I hadn’t done a half-bad job. I helped Vivian open hers, a rather heavy box filled with crafts to make jewelry, and by the time we were done, she had already made a bracelet and matching ring.

            Grayson rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he sat on the edge of the coffee table. “I know what this is,” he said, holding a thin present in his hand.

            “Oh yeah?” Angela said, raising her eyebrows.

            “It’s an Xbox game.” Grayson shook the gift gently by his ear.

            “How could it be an Xbox game if you don’t even have an Xbox?” she said.

            “Well, if it is a game, then there must be an Xbox in there somewhere.”

            “Open it already,” Vivian complained, not looking up from her work.

            “I told you,” Grayson said with a grin, thrusting the game into the air. “I’m not going to be able to sleep now.”

            “Wouldn’t that just be the worst trick if you got a game, but not the system,” Harvey said deviously.

            Grayson’s eyes sank to the floor. “You wouldn’t really do that, would you? I’ve been asking for it for like three years.”

            Harvey shrugged his shoulders and said, “I think it’s time for bed.”

            It was an evil trick, but as an adult having lived through overly sarcastic parents, it was nice to see the tradition continue.

Grayson ran to his room, a bubble of excitement and dread hanging over him.

We tucked the girls into bed, read stories and gave kisses, then walked back into the kitchen to finish wrapping gifts and drink a bottle of wine.

“They have you working on Christmas Eve huh?” I asked, tearing off a piece of tape.

“Unfortunately. You wouldn’t believe the amount of pressure I’m under.” Harvey drank

half of his glass of wine. “The company is looking to expand. The CEO said he needed me in the office tomorrow by three.” Shaking his head, he drank the rest, setting his empty glass down on the table.

I looked up in time to see that this was the first Angela was hearing about it, her face pinched and angry.

“Really?” I said, pushing a gift to the side. “On Christmas day.”

Harvey nodded as he poured a second glass. “But you know what I told Craig.” Harvey’s

head shot up. “I told him that the only way that was happening was if he came here, looked my wife and kids in the eyes, and told them himself.”

Stunned, I dropped the tape that was in my hands. Angela slowly walked to Harvey’s side, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“I hope you still have a job after that,” I said.

Harvey chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass. “As a matter-of-fact, I got a bonus.” He

turned and planted a kiss on Angela’s lips. “He said that in forty years of being CEO, no one has ever stood up to him like that. He admired the size of my balls and handed me a check for forty-thousand dollars.”

            “What!” Angela shouted, slapping him on the arm and stepping backwards. “Your joking.”

            “I can’t make something like that up. He said that twenty years ago he promised himself that the first person to put him in his place and show him he was too focused on his work and not the wellbeing of his employees, he would write them a check for forty-grand.”

            “That stuff only happens in movies,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “So you weren’t working then?”

            “No, I was looking at the bank account to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.” He walked to the living and returned with his computer. “See,” he said, pointing at the screen. “He also said not to come back until after the new year.”

            Angela threw her arms around his neck as tears trickled down her face, landing safely on his shoulder.

            Placing the last of the gifts under the tree, I congratulated Harvey again, shaking his hand. After hugging Angela, I walked to the guest room, head swirling from wine, and fell asleep.

            My body shook like an earthquake in the morning. The girls all piled onto the bed, giggling and jumping up and down.

            “Get up,” Grayson said, standing by the door.

            “Get up, get up,” the girls echoed.

            I rolled to my side and slid my aching legs off the bed. Stretching my arms over my head with a yawn, I said, “It’s time already?” a hint of playful annoyance in my voice.

            Vivian reached over and pinched my cheeks, shouting, “Yes, yes, yes.”

            “Alright, I guess I'll come downstairs.”

A row of mugs sat on the kitchen island filled with warm apple cider. Taking mine, I stood in front of the deck window watching as the white tips descended into the sand. I’ll never get used to not seeing snow on the ground for Christmas, but having the ocean as a replacement isn’t the worst thing in the world.

            “Have a seat everyone,” Angela said as she walked into the living room.

            They opened each gift with pure intensity, a confetti of wrapping paper bursting through the air.

Kristi and Margo sat on the floor across from each other, their feet connected in a diamond, their presents piled between them. Paula sat in one of the bar stools in the kitchen, her hands moving from gift to gift, unsure which she wanted to play with first. Vivian brought her gifts to the back deck, away from everyone saying, ‘she wanted to be uninterrupted so she could color coordinate.’

Grayson piled most of his gifts to the side. In front of him was an Xbox and a thirty-two-inch flat screen television. “Will you help me set it up,” he asked, looking over at his father. Nodding his head, Harvey sprung from his seat, lifted the tv off the ground, and headed up the steps.

“I remember when a new shirt and five dollars to spend on candy at the movies was enough to get me excited,” I said, placing my arm around Angela.

“It’s a different world.” She rested her head on my shoulder.

“You’re telling me. Seven years into a terrorist attack on our soil, the Red Sox won the

World Series again and we have a black president.” I took a deep breath and looked down at the twins as they held hands and rocked back and forth.

            “And Harvey’s home for Christmas.” She lifted her head and walked to the back deck, sliding the door open and poking her head out. “Why don’t you finish up and help me get lunch ready?” Vivian nodded her head and placed a pair of blue socks next to her blue hair ties.

“Will you run up and tell the boys lunch will be ready in about twenty minutes?” she asked, starting the stove top and walking to the refrigerator.

I walked up the spiral, rugged staircase and into Grayson’s room. Harvey was leaning over Grayson’s dresser with wires in his hand.

“Angela said lunch in twenty,” I said, taking a seat next to Grayson on his bed. “You sure

he knows what he’s doing?”

Grayson nudged my side and laughed. “I trust him more than you.”.

“Now just turn this on and... bang.” Harvey stepping back and admired his work.

“You’re all set.” He clapped his hands together and sat on the other side.

“Thanks dad,” Grayson pressed a button on his controller and the screen flashed several images.

“I know your mother said this stuff would rot your brain. But, hey, why not rot your brain

doing something fun.” He ruffled Grayson hair and kissed him on the top of the head. “One game and then downstairs for lunch okay?”

Grayson shook his head, his eyes glued to the screen.

Aside from seeing family, the food was the best part about being in Florida for Christmas. Taking our seats around the table, Angela placed a giant bowl of fish chowder in the middle. We each had our own miniature loaf of freshly baked bread and a bowl for fruit salad. Not the most traditional Christmas meal but well worth it.

“I can’t tell if you liked it,” Angela said, turning her head on its side.

Smiling, I licked the empty bowl and sent it spinning on the table. Vivian pounded her spoon on her bowl and cheered.

“I haven’t even taken my seat yet and you’ve finished a bowl.” Angel shook her head and waddled to the table with a glass of iced tea. “I guess it’s a good thing I made extra.”

“You are a mother, and Italian,” Harvey said.

She shot him a playful glare and spooned herself a ladle of chowder.

“When are you leaving uncle Sal?” Vivian asked through a mouthful.

“Do you want me gone so soon?” I let my mouth drop and my eyes droop with sadness.

“No, of course not!” she shouted.

“Okay, good. I will be here for two and a half more months. But I will be working most of the time. I have to finish the story I’m working on before I go back to New York.”

“What if I don’t want you to go back?” Her eyes began to well, her spoon slipping from her fingers and onto the table.

            I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, I’m only a phone call away, and maybe one of these days, your parents will bring you up to the city to visit me and your uncle Mike.”

            “Fat uncle Mike. He’s funny,” Vivian said, snatching up her spoon.

            What had been in Angela’s mouth was now scattered across the table. “I’m so sorry honey,” she said, wiping Harvey’s arm with a napkin. “I was not expecting that. Viv.”

            “It’s what Grayson always calls him,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

            With a grin, I said, “I’m not complaining, because that means I’m not the fat one.”

            Harvey laughed, raising his glass in the air. Angela looked sideways at Grayson who was trying to hide behind his bread and the twins attempted to make a song of it all.

            Soon the room was loud and boisterous, exactly what an Italian meal should be.

            As we cleared the table, Grayson snuck back to his room to play while all the girls piled into the living room to watch A Christmas Story.

            I found myself eager to hear the crashing waves. As I sat on the back porch, I thought of Mary-ann and wondered if this would be the last Christmas she’d ever remember. I hoped it wouldn’t, but if it were, I also hoped it was the greatest Christmas she’d ever had.