CHRISTMAS SURPRISE 2.0
TIJAN
DEBRA ANASTASIA
MADDY
It smelled like a burnt Christmas cookie in my pants.
There’s no way. But yes, taking them off and lifting them to my nose, I took in a whiff and that’s what it smelled like.
I took a second longer sniff. Was that a sugar cookie? No. Gingersnaps? Wait. Not quite. Was that… it was burnt peanut butter.
What the fuck?
I was saddened at this thought, but before I could really investigate the inseam of my pants, I heard my aunt yelling my name from the kitchen.
“Maddy! Get your rear down here. We need a fourth for the game.”
The game. I sighed, shaking my head, but put those pants aside. Grabbing a pair of black leggings, I pulled them on and glanced at the mirror. I was fine, at least fine enough for the drinking game where we watched through the living room window as the carolers went up and down our streets singing to our neighbors, and every time they slipped on the ice, we drank.
There’s no way. But yes, taking them off and lifting them to my nose, I took in a whiff and that’s what it smelled like.
I took a second longer sniff. Was that a sugar cookie? No. Gingersnaps? Wait. Not quite. Was that… it was burnt peanut butter.
What the fuck?
- Who burned cookies?
- Who burned Christmas cookies?!
- Who would burn peanut butter cookies?
I was saddened at this thought, but before I could really investigate the inseam of my pants, I heard my aunt yelling my name from the kitchen.
“Maddy! Get your rear down here. We need a fourth for the game.”
The game. I sighed, shaking my head, but put those pants aside. Grabbing a pair of black leggings, I pulled them on and glanced at the mirror. I was fine, at least fine enough for the drinking game where we watched through the living room window as the carolers went up and down our streets singing to our neighbors, and every time they slipped on the ice, we drank.
CLAY
I finally came out of her closet. Maddy was almost on to me. Trying to panic hide cookies in clothes never works well. And of course, I picked the pants she was going to wear. My grandmother's diamond ring was deep in my pocket and I had dirt on the knees of my jeans. When we were younger, I would climb to her bedroom so easily. Now I think I pulled three muscles and stumbled twice. She loved those stupid, yummy Hershey Kiss Peanut butter cookies so much, I was going to prop her ring up in the center of a heart shape of the ones I had made her. And tell her I loved her more than she loved those cookies. And that I’d loved her even when she’d licked the peanut butter off her fingers in sixth grade. Man, my girl was all about the nuts. Peanuts.
But I burnt the cookies. My old childhood oven apparently had a tricky thermostat. My parents figured out what the oven was doing by holding their hands in front of it like cavemen in front of a fire. I didn’t have that skill. Fine. I was nervous. Maddy’s aunt was in on the proposal. The carolers were in on it. There would be a nice sized crowd to see her decide if I was the one for her the way she was the one for me. And I already burnt the cookies and tried to hide them in her pants. And then when I realized those would be her go-to choice, I dumped the cookies in my pants. The ones I am currently wearing. I think I was getting haunted by the ghost of Christmas Bungler.
But I burnt the cookies. My old childhood oven apparently had a tricky thermostat. My parents figured out what the oven was doing by holding their hands in front of it like cavemen in front of a fire. I didn’t have that skill. Fine. I was nervous. Maddy’s aunt was in on the proposal. The carolers were in on it. There would be a nice sized crowd to see her decide if I was the one for her the way she was the one for me. And I already burnt the cookies and tried to hide them in her pants. And then when I realized those would be her go-to choice, I dumped the cookies in my pants. The ones I am currently wearing. I think I was getting haunted by the ghost of Christmas Bungler.
MADDY
“You got your drink, Mads?”
I walked down the stairs, turning for the kitchen first. My two aunts, my mom, and my grandmother were all lined up on the patio chairs, facing the living room window, each with their own drink in hand.
My brother, Petey, was the one who asked me that question and I yawned, shaking my head. “Nope. I need something. Hit me up.”
“Got it.” He was all business-like. You’d think making drinks was his mission in life, how he was going to save the world. One White Russian at a time. I didn’t say anything. God forbid I distract his focus as he was pouring the Kahlua into the glass, over top the ice cubes, and just when I thought he was done, he reached inside the cupboard and pulled out a cinnamon stick to put in it.
“Voila! Done.” He picked it up, put it on a tray and turned, pretending to bow. “Your drink is served, Madam.”
I took it, shooting him a quick frown. “A bit over the top, don’t you think?”
He scoffed, grinning, and putting the tray back on the counter. “Not really. I’m a bit toasted. I’m trying to keep myself from heading out and throwing snowballs at the carolers this year.”
I barked out a laugh. That was more like the Petey I knew.
Taking a sip, I knew he was waiting for my verdict and biting back the burn from 80% booze, I gave him a closed-mouth smile. “Hmm. Yum.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “Oh yes. Very delicious.” And toxic.
He laughed. “I know you’re shitting me. I gave Grandma the same drink. She loved it.”
We both knew not to trust Grandma Hazel’s taste. She also once ate a whole piece of coal, being told by our Aunt Mary Jane that it was an exotic dish from Mongolia. The fact that Grandma Hazel never questioned how we would get a dish from Mongolia, or how it was even still fresh told you something.
We both looked down the hallway to the living room where they were. Grandma Hazel was swaying on her seat, her eyes closed, her drink sloshing over the rim, and a dreamy smile on her face.
“Is she humming?” I asked.
“Pretty sure she is.”
There was no music playing.
“Oh hey.” Petey’s tone dropped to a serious note. “A head’s up. You remember Clay?”
My stomach dropped. Again. It was like the burnt peanut butter cookie experience 2.0. My mouth was like sand now. “Yeah?”
“He was here earlier.” He nodded to the line of Weatherly women. “He and Mary Jane were bosom buddies in the doorway, whispering. I’m pretty sure he gave her pot.”
“You serious?”
“You still have your restraining order against him?”
Yes. Yes, I did.
I walked down the stairs, turning for the kitchen first. My two aunts, my mom, and my grandmother were all lined up on the patio chairs, facing the living room window, each with their own drink in hand.
My brother, Petey, was the one who asked me that question and I yawned, shaking my head. “Nope. I need something. Hit me up.”
“Got it.” He was all business-like. You’d think making drinks was his mission in life, how he was going to save the world. One White Russian at a time. I didn’t say anything. God forbid I distract his focus as he was pouring the Kahlua into the glass, over top the ice cubes, and just when I thought he was done, he reached inside the cupboard and pulled out a cinnamon stick to put in it.
“Voila! Done.” He picked it up, put it on a tray and turned, pretending to bow. “Your drink is served, Madam.”
I took it, shooting him a quick frown. “A bit over the top, don’t you think?”
He scoffed, grinning, and putting the tray back on the counter. “Not really. I’m a bit toasted. I’m trying to keep myself from heading out and throwing snowballs at the carolers this year.”
I barked out a laugh. That was more like the Petey I knew.
Taking a sip, I knew he was waiting for my verdict and biting back the burn from 80% booze, I gave him a closed-mouth smile. “Hmm. Yum.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “Oh yes. Very delicious.” And toxic.
He laughed. “I know you’re shitting me. I gave Grandma the same drink. She loved it.”
We both knew not to trust Grandma Hazel’s taste. She also once ate a whole piece of coal, being told by our Aunt Mary Jane that it was an exotic dish from Mongolia. The fact that Grandma Hazel never questioned how we would get a dish from Mongolia, or how it was even still fresh told you something.
We both looked down the hallway to the living room where they were. Grandma Hazel was swaying on her seat, her eyes closed, her drink sloshing over the rim, and a dreamy smile on her face.
“Is she humming?” I asked.
“Pretty sure she is.”
There was no music playing.
“Oh hey.” Petey’s tone dropped to a serious note. “A head’s up. You remember Clay?”
My stomach dropped. Again. It was like the burnt peanut butter cookie experience 2.0. My mouth was like sand now. “Yeah?”
“He was here earlier.” He nodded to the line of Weatherly women. “He and Mary Jane were bosom buddies in the doorway, whispering. I’m pretty sure he gave her pot.”
“You serious?”
“You still have your restraining order against him?”
Yes. Yes, I did.
CLAY
Petey was such a horrible wingman. He was getting way ahead of the whole plan. Technically, yes. Maddy had a restraining order against me. But it was put in place by her jealous ex--the cop. Bringing him up and that little smear on my record was a low blow. I owed Petey a nice punch in the nuts. I was guessing that he was drinking his face off. He loved to get toasted around his family of women. They were a rowdy bunch. A lot of fun. Just like Maddy.
I heard the doorbell. It was too soon. Far too soon. I had to just roll with it. And hope that Petey did everything I told him to do.
“We wish you a Merry Christmas!” The song started. Soon the carolers and their adorable faces would start lifting up place cards.
It would spell out:
I heard the doorbell. It was too soon. Far too soon. I had to just roll with it. And hope that Petey did everything I told him to do.
“We wish you a Merry Christmas!” The song started. Soon the carolers and their adorable faces would start lifting up place cards.
It would spell out:
Maddy. Turn around. YOU. Behind.
He loves you. Will you marry him?
.
The last card to go up would read, Don’t arrest him.
He loves you. Will you marry him?
.
The last card to go up would read, Don’t arrest him.
I had to get downstairs even with cookies in my pants. I flung open the door and raced down the stairs. Later, I would figure out the order of events. At the time it seemed like I was happy and about to propose and then in the next moment I was laying facedown on the floor in the living room with a rottweiler wearing a Santa hat chewing the crotch of my pants. When I couldn’t move and could only hear my own screaming, I noticed Grandma standing holding her beloved taser, Pink Taco, in my direction.
In the door busts Maddy’s ex, who a little too gleefully, put a zip-tie around my wrists. Maddy, god bless her, was able to get Grandma to detach the taser wires.
She’s such an angel. You agree?
Maddy’s ex, Jonathan pulled me to my feet and cookies poured out of my pant legs into two burned piles.
I remembered then that Jonathan’s younger sister was one of the carolers that sang every year. She had a delightful singing voice and a talent for training aggressive rescue dogs.
She rushed forward and cuddled the dog. “Chompers? Did that mean man hurt you? My poor baby.”
Grandma Hazel pushed her lips to one side announcing, “Is this whole thing a weed nightmare? I thought Maddy was getting married?”
In the door busts Maddy’s ex, who a little too gleefully, put a zip-tie around my wrists. Maddy, god bless her, was able to get Grandma to detach the taser wires.
She’s such an angel. You agree?
Maddy’s ex, Jonathan pulled me to my feet and cookies poured out of my pant legs into two burned piles.
I remembered then that Jonathan’s younger sister was one of the carolers that sang every year. She had a delightful singing voice and a talent for training aggressive rescue dogs.
She rushed forward and cuddled the dog. “Chompers? Did that mean man hurt you? My poor baby.”
Grandma Hazel pushed her lips to one side announcing, “Is this whole thing a weed nightmare? I thought Maddy was getting married?”
MADDY
I couldn’t.
For real. I couldn’t.
It’d been six years of this. Six. Freaking. Nightmarish. Years.
Clay Kelvin grew up next door to us, and throughout high school, he’d been a quiet kid. He loved caterpillars, home ec class, and taxidermy. He had an aunt who did my hair most years, and he used to work at her salon, putting curlers in the women’s hair, but six years ago, everything went up in flames.
Literally.
His first house caught on fire. A gas leak from their oven, and it had traumatized him. He’d been the only one home and barely got out of the house alive. That night, I’d been coming home from college, my last year when I saw the flames first. I called the firestation, but I heard yelling from inside so I’d been the one to go in and save him.
I mean, it wasn’t really a save. He was three feet from the door, curled in a ball and sobbing. I opened the door, stepped in, tapped his shoulder, and told him to leave. For real. That’s all I did. He stood up, nodded to me, and walked out with me, but ever since then, events like tonight had been commonplace for awhile.
A freaking proposal.
For real?!
I saw the cards the carolers were holding. I read what they said, and I wanted to take each of them, roll them into a joint, light the joint, and stick that joint up each of the carolers’ asses because they all knew our history. All of them. We came from a small town of 452.5 people. Why the .5, no one knew, but that’s how it’s put on our sign welcoming people into Buxton.
And now, Chompers was trying to get free from Jonathan’s sister, but he wasn’t growling. He was drooling. Clay was standing in the corner, my ex’s hand on his arm, and my nose twitched.
Those cookies.
A whole slew of them had fallen out of his pants like an acid trip of diarrhea. My pants. He’d been up there, or he did something to them, and he was gazing at me with such big soulful eyes, near identical to Chompers who rushed forward, getting free from Melissa and lunged at Clay again.
Or, well, no.
He went straight for the cookies.
Grandma Hazel had been muttering something behind me, but now she started shrieking. “The dog! The dog! He’s going to die!”
“What?” Jonathan was ignoring me, but he turned to my grandma.
She was pointing at the pile of cookies. “They’re laced! I can smell it.”
Petey groaned next to me, sticking his hands in his hair. “This is one huge nightmare.”
Mary Jane started laughing, tipping over in her chair. “Those cookies aren’t laced.” She thrust her skinny arm in the air, a bag in hand. “I got the weed here!”
“Oh my God.”
Petey let out a laugh. One short one, then a second, and a third. He couldn’t stop, his shoulders shaking and he turned away from me.
“Really?” I glared at his back. “You’re not helping.”
He shook his head, still laughing. “I’ll--huh--I’ll be back.” More laughter as he headed back into the kitchen.
“Your order of protection is still in place, right?”
I stiffened, my stomach twisting over everything, and turned to my ex. His partner had arrived, who was leading Clay to their squad car outside. His sister was taking Chompers away, the carolers all disbanding as well. My grandma’s eyes were like saucers, just staring at the pile of half-eaten cookies, and Aunt Mary Jane was half-hiccuping, half-chortling to herself. The others all had glazed eyes, swaying as they waited for whatever I did next.
For real. I couldn’t.
It’d been six years of this. Six. Freaking. Nightmarish. Years.
Clay Kelvin grew up next door to us, and throughout high school, he’d been a quiet kid. He loved caterpillars, home ec class, and taxidermy. He had an aunt who did my hair most years, and he used to work at her salon, putting curlers in the women’s hair, but six years ago, everything went up in flames.
Literally.
His first house caught on fire. A gas leak from their oven, and it had traumatized him. He’d been the only one home and barely got out of the house alive. That night, I’d been coming home from college, my last year when I saw the flames first. I called the firestation, but I heard yelling from inside so I’d been the one to go in and save him.
I mean, it wasn’t really a save. He was three feet from the door, curled in a ball and sobbing. I opened the door, stepped in, tapped his shoulder, and told him to leave. For real. That’s all I did. He stood up, nodded to me, and walked out with me, but ever since then, events like tonight had been commonplace for awhile.
A freaking proposal.
For real?!
I saw the cards the carolers were holding. I read what they said, and I wanted to take each of them, roll them into a joint, light the joint, and stick that joint up each of the carolers’ asses because they all knew our history. All of them. We came from a small town of 452.5 people. Why the .5, no one knew, but that’s how it’s put on our sign welcoming people into Buxton.
And now, Chompers was trying to get free from Jonathan’s sister, but he wasn’t growling. He was drooling. Clay was standing in the corner, my ex’s hand on his arm, and my nose twitched.
Those cookies.
A whole slew of them had fallen out of his pants like an acid trip of diarrhea. My pants. He’d been up there, or he did something to them, and he was gazing at me with such big soulful eyes, near identical to Chompers who rushed forward, getting free from Melissa and lunged at Clay again.
Or, well, no.
He went straight for the cookies.
Grandma Hazel had been muttering something behind me, but now she started shrieking. “The dog! The dog! He’s going to die!”
“What?” Jonathan was ignoring me, but he turned to my grandma.
She was pointing at the pile of cookies. “They’re laced! I can smell it.”
Petey groaned next to me, sticking his hands in his hair. “This is one huge nightmare.”
Mary Jane started laughing, tipping over in her chair. “Those cookies aren’t laced.” She thrust her skinny arm in the air, a bag in hand. “I got the weed here!”
“Oh my God.”
Petey let out a laugh. One short one, then a second, and a third. He couldn’t stop, his shoulders shaking and he turned away from me.
“Really?” I glared at his back. “You’re not helping.”
He shook his head, still laughing. “I’ll--huh--I’ll be back.” More laughter as he headed back into the kitchen.
“Your order of protection is still in place, right?”
I stiffened, my stomach twisting over everything, and turned to my ex. His partner had arrived, who was leading Clay to their squad car outside. His sister was taking Chompers away, the carolers all disbanding as well. My grandma’s eyes were like saucers, just staring at the pile of half-eaten cookies, and Aunt Mary Jane was half-hiccuping, half-chortling to herself. The others all had glazed eyes, swaying as they waited for whatever I did next.
CLAY
Well that didn’t go as planned. The cop pushed on the back of my head as I slid into the cop car. It was all a mistake. Maddy acted like she hadn’t even spent one day in love with me. She’d saved me. When I panicked near the fire, she’d fought her way into the inferno to pull me to safety. She was my angel. I knew everything she loved. Including me. I leaned against the door and felt my grandmother’s ring bite into my thigh. At least I still had it. Sitting in the back of the cop car I had to wonder where it had all gone wrong.
Stupid ovens. Always ruining everything for me. First my house. Then the cookies. It was like heat was out to get me. Jonathan opened the door.
“Looks like you pissed your pants there, Clay. You don’t have a good way around the ladies, huh?” He pointed at me with his pinkie.
I was having flashbacks to middle school. This freaking guy. After my house fire, he would light matches around me and ask if I was ready to cry yet. I’d ignored him then, but of course he wound up one of the three cops in Buxton. So he could use his position to hold things over me still.
As if he could hear my memories, he yelled out to his partner, “Hey, you got a light?”
Jonathan put his fingers on the roof and leaned in real close, “Listen, She doesn’t want you. She’ll never want you. Chompers is the closest thing you are going to get to action tonight. Maddy is out of your league.”
I tugged at the ties on my wrist. “You know that restraining order is bunk.”
Jonathan pushed out his chest. “It’s as real as the report I’m going to file tonight. What you been doing for work lately, Clay?”
I hung my head. I had two jobs. One, I was a nurse’s aid. Jonathan found plenty of ammunition to torture me with as far as that was concerned. Anytime I wound up at the local bar, he or his friends would send over a “drink for the lady,” and then winked and wolf whistle at me. My other job was on the weekends. The local nursing home needed people to fill in. That was my favorite. I loved history and the older people loved talking about it. And if I could make them more comfortable--well that was something that made their damn day.
“Same stuff as usual.” I shuffled my feet and more cookie crumbs fell out.
“Come one, baby. I want to hear you say it.” Jonathan caught something that his partner tossed at him. And then he flicked the lighter to life inches from my nose. The flame started the same panic from when I was a kid. Damn it. So much for being Maddy’s prince charming.
Stupid ovens. Always ruining everything for me. First my house. Then the cookies. It was like heat was out to get me. Jonathan opened the door.
“Looks like you pissed your pants there, Clay. You don’t have a good way around the ladies, huh?” He pointed at me with his pinkie.
I was having flashbacks to middle school. This freaking guy. After my house fire, he would light matches around me and ask if I was ready to cry yet. I’d ignored him then, but of course he wound up one of the three cops in Buxton. So he could use his position to hold things over me still.
As if he could hear my memories, he yelled out to his partner, “Hey, you got a light?”
Jonathan put his fingers on the roof and leaned in real close, “Listen, She doesn’t want you. She’ll never want you. Chompers is the closest thing you are going to get to action tonight. Maddy is out of your league.”
I tugged at the ties on my wrist. “You know that restraining order is bunk.”
Jonathan pushed out his chest. “It’s as real as the report I’m going to file tonight. What you been doing for work lately, Clay?”
I hung my head. I had two jobs. One, I was a nurse’s aid. Jonathan found plenty of ammunition to torture me with as far as that was concerned. Anytime I wound up at the local bar, he or his friends would send over a “drink for the lady,” and then winked and wolf whistle at me. My other job was on the weekends. The local nursing home needed people to fill in. That was my favorite. I loved history and the older people loved talking about it. And if I could make them more comfortable--well that was something that made their damn day.
“Same stuff as usual.” I shuffled my feet and more cookie crumbs fell out.
“Come one, baby. I want to hear you say it.” Jonathan caught something that his partner tossed at him. And then he flicked the lighter to life inches from my nose. The flame started the same panic from when I was a kid. Damn it. So much for being Maddy’s prince charming.
MADDY
“What. The. Fuck!”
I was seething. I was seeing red, literally seeing red. Dirk Blossom was waving his lighter, lit, under Clay’s nose. I’d come out to give them a quick statement, but seeing that, I reached in, grabbed the lighter and lit it just under Dirk’s beard.
“AH! What the fuck?! You bitch.”
He jumped out, swatting at the bottom of his beard, and then patting down his front. He was glowering at me once he realized I hadn’t set anything on fire.
I was tempted to.
“You fucking bitch.” He reached behind him, a zip-tie in hand. “Turn around. I’m arresting you for that shit. That’s assault on an officer.”
“Oh.” Jonathan stepped between us, his hands up. “Now, hold on, Dirk.”
“You hold on.” He pointed at me, over Jonathan’s shoulder. “Your woman just tried to burn me alive.”
“Well, I mean--”
“You don’t grow up?!” I tossed the lighter at him, as hard as possible. He caught it, cradling it against his chest, but I wasn’t done. I pointed at Clay. “This is the reason why I broke up with your partner. This is still going on?” I flung my hand at him. “And check your facts. I took your lighter and waved it in your direction. It never touched your beard. There’s no ‘assault’ here and there’s no threatening an officer. There might be a ‘threatening a douchebag’ charge here though, but I’m pretty sure I can call up your ex, that you tossed for Regina from the VFW, at the local station two towns over and she’ll be more than happy to petition for your uniform cam footage for a story.”
He paused.
I snorted. “Yeah. I might be home just for the holidays, but I know you guys got those now.”
Jonathan was standing still between us, his hands towards his partner to hold him off, though Dirk was no longer doing anything. He was staring at me, anger lighting his eyes, and I let out another small breath of air. Why did this have to happen? Why?
Feeling the guilt pooling in my gut, I looked at Clay.
His mouth was hanging open. His eyes were wide, glued to me like I was saving his life again, and he had his hands up against this chest as if he were praying.
Crappity crap crap. I needed some of what my aunt was on because I knew Clay wasn’t going anywhere now. The obsession was well and truly cemented, probably for life.
“Uh, Mads.”
“Don’t,” I said sharply to Jonathan, waving a hand in Clay’s direction. “Let him go.”
I swear, I saw cupids flying around Clay’s head as I said those words. He perked up, a smile forming and stretching from ear to ear. “Really?”
Jonathan groaned, his hands rubbing at his forehead. “You shitting me?”
“You’re a douchebag. Your partner is a douchebag. I don’t want to deal with any of this anymore. Let him go. I’ll get the order dropped.”
“You know he’s going to move into your house, probably try to kidnap you or something. That’s going to happen.”
“Yeah. Well.” I had no retort. “Clay, when you ask me to marry you, what are you asking? Specifically.”
Jonathan was reaching into his car, undoing the zip-tie as Clay frowned. “What do you mean?”
Jonathan said over his shoulder, “Don’t do it, Mads. Don’t do it.”
I ignored him. “I mean, when you keep asking me to marry you, what do we do after that? If I were to marry you?”
He was rubbing at his wrists.
Jonathan tossed the zip-tie to the seat behind Clay, took a fistful of his shirt, and hauled him out of the car. I half-thought he was going to shove Clay to me, but he didn’t. His sister was gone. Chompers with her. The carolers were all gone. The only audience we had was my family, all lined up on the porch. Blankets were hanging over each of their shoulders, their hands wrapped around their drinks, except Mary Jane. She had a bottle of Kahlua in hand, and as I glanced up to them, she tipped her head back, taking a large drink.
Petey was inside the house, standing on his tiptoes, his head just above the Weatherly women outside. He was laughing so hard, he kept wiping tears from his face.
I was tempted to flick him off, but that’d just set him off some more.
Dirk stomped to the car as Jonathan went to the driver’s side, and before long, they headed out, both studiously avoiding looking at us again.
So it was just myself and Clay on the curb.
I asked again, “What happens afterwards if I do marry you?”
“Oh!” His head shot up, no traces of any worry on him again. “I move in with your family, of course. I’ll make cookies with Grandma Hazel. Mary Jane and I will go on teacup adventures every morning. I’ll learn how to make biscotti from your mother, and Carol and I will knit enough blankets to give to every resident at the nursing home.”
“And you and I will…”
“We’ll hold hands and you’ll let me hug you whenever you come home for visits.”
“That’s it? You move in with my family?”
“Yes.” He was bobbing his head, so eager. “And Petey becomes my new best friend.”
I was going to let Petey learn that one for himself. And tape it, if I could.
“So no vows are exchanged in front of a priest?”
He frowned. “I don’t like priests. They smell like wine and sweat.”
Okay.
I nodded to myself.
Okay. I could do this. I think?
“No touching?”
His eyebrows sunk down. He bit his lip.
I remembered what he said. “Except a hug when I come home and holding hands, but only once or twice.”
“Yes?” Those eyebrows shot back up.
I debated. Was I going to do this? Let him move in with my family?
I was seething. I was seeing red, literally seeing red. Dirk Blossom was waving his lighter, lit, under Clay’s nose. I’d come out to give them a quick statement, but seeing that, I reached in, grabbed the lighter and lit it just under Dirk’s beard.
“AH! What the fuck?! You bitch.”
He jumped out, swatting at the bottom of his beard, and then patting down his front. He was glowering at me once he realized I hadn’t set anything on fire.
I was tempted to.
“You fucking bitch.” He reached behind him, a zip-tie in hand. “Turn around. I’m arresting you for that shit. That’s assault on an officer.”
“Oh.” Jonathan stepped between us, his hands up. “Now, hold on, Dirk.”
“You hold on.” He pointed at me, over Jonathan’s shoulder. “Your woman just tried to burn me alive.”
“Well, I mean--”
“You don’t grow up?!” I tossed the lighter at him, as hard as possible. He caught it, cradling it against his chest, but I wasn’t done. I pointed at Clay. “This is the reason why I broke up with your partner. This is still going on?” I flung my hand at him. “And check your facts. I took your lighter and waved it in your direction. It never touched your beard. There’s no ‘assault’ here and there’s no threatening an officer. There might be a ‘threatening a douchebag’ charge here though, but I’m pretty sure I can call up your ex, that you tossed for Regina from the VFW, at the local station two towns over and she’ll be more than happy to petition for your uniform cam footage for a story.”
He paused.
I snorted. “Yeah. I might be home just for the holidays, but I know you guys got those now.”
Jonathan was standing still between us, his hands towards his partner to hold him off, though Dirk was no longer doing anything. He was staring at me, anger lighting his eyes, and I let out another small breath of air. Why did this have to happen? Why?
Feeling the guilt pooling in my gut, I looked at Clay.
His mouth was hanging open. His eyes were wide, glued to me like I was saving his life again, and he had his hands up against this chest as if he were praying.
Crappity crap crap. I needed some of what my aunt was on because I knew Clay wasn’t going anywhere now. The obsession was well and truly cemented, probably for life.
“Uh, Mads.”
“Don’t,” I said sharply to Jonathan, waving a hand in Clay’s direction. “Let him go.”
I swear, I saw cupids flying around Clay’s head as I said those words. He perked up, a smile forming and stretching from ear to ear. “Really?”
Jonathan groaned, his hands rubbing at his forehead. “You shitting me?”
“You’re a douchebag. Your partner is a douchebag. I don’t want to deal with any of this anymore. Let him go. I’ll get the order dropped.”
“You know he’s going to move into your house, probably try to kidnap you or something. That’s going to happen.”
“Yeah. Well.” I had no retort. “Clay, when you ask me to marry you, what are you asking? Specifically.”
Jonathan was reaching into his car, undoing the zip-tie as Clay frowned. “What do you mean?”
Jonathan said over his shoulder, “Don’t do it, Mads. Don’t do it.”
I ignored him. “I mean, when you keep asking me to marry you, what do we do after that? If I were to marry you?”
He was rubbing at his wrists.
Jonathan tossed the zip-tie to the seat behind Clay, took a fistful of his shirt, and hauled him out of the car. I half-thought he was going to shove Clay to me, but he didn’t. His sister was gone. Chompers with her. The carolers were all gone. The only audience we had was my family, all lined up on the porch. Blankets were hanging over each of their shoulders, their hands wrapped around their drinks, except Mary Jane. She had a bottle of Kahlua in hand, and as I glanced up to them, she tipped her head back, taking a large drink.
Petey was inside the house, standing on his tiptoes, his head just above the Weatherly women outside. He was laughing so hard, he kept wiping tears from his face.
I was tempted to flick him off, but that’d just set him off some more.
Dirk stomped to the car as Jonathan went to the driver’s side, and before long, they headed out, both studiously avoiding looking at us again.
So it was just myself and Clay on the curb.
I asked again, “What happens afterwards if I do marry you?”
“Oh!” His head shot up, no traces of any worry on him again. “I move in with your family, of course. I’ll make cookies with Grandma Hazel. Mary Jane and I will go on teacup adventures every morning. I’ll learn how to make biscotti from your mother, and Carol and I will knit enough blankets to give to every resident at the nursing home.”
“And you and I will…”
“We’ll hold hands and you’ll let me hug you whenever you come home for visits.”
“That’s it? You move in with my family?”
“Yes.” He was bobbing his head, so eager. “And Petey becomes my new best friend.”
I was going to let Petey learn that one for himself. And tape it, if I could.
“So no vows are exchanged in front of a priest?”
He frowned. “I don’t like priests. They smell like wine and sweat.”
Okay.
I nodded to myself.
Okay. I could do this. I think?
“No touching?”
His eyebrows sunk down. He bit his lip.
I remembered what he said. “Except a hug when I come home and holding hands, but only once or twice.”
“Yes?” Those eyebrows shot back up.
I debated. Was I going to do this? Let him move in with my family?
CLAY
I would take whatever she was offering. Maddy had a way of making everyone around her feel safe. And I could keep everyone healthy. I’d save my ring in my pocket. Really, what I needed from Maddy was her friendship. I smiled at her.
“So you’re saying yes?” I lifted my eyebrows.
“Yes...with the condition that you marry the entire family. And we go on double dates and stuff.” She paused. “With other people.”
I opened my arms and waited. Letting her make the first move. Maddy stepped into my arms and patted my back. “You’re going to be okay, Clay.”
“I’ve known you were going to be important to me the first day I met you.” I dropped my arms first, letting her know that I’d heard her boundaries.
Petey started clapping. The whole family added their hoots and hollers. Maddy’s family was a big clump of crazy love, and my Christmas wish to be a part of it just came true.
Maddy gestured to my pants. “How about you borrow granda Hazel’s housecoat and I teach you how to bake those cookies for real?”
I never thought I’d agree so quickly to wear a mumu. But I did.
“So you’re saying yes?” I lifted my eyebrows.
“Yes...with the condition that you marry the entire family. And we go on double dates and stuff.” She paused. “With other people.”
I opened my arms and waited. Letting her make the first move. Maddy stepped into my arms and patted my back. “You’re going to be okay, Clay.”
“I’ve known you were going to be important to me the first day I met you.” I dropped my arms first, letting her know that I’d heard her boundaries.
Petey started clapping. The whole family added their hoots and hollers. Maddy’s family was a big clump of crazy love, and my Christmas wish to be a part of it just came true.
Maddy gestured to my pants. “How about you borrow granda Hazel’s housecoat and I teach you how to bake those cookies for real?”
I never thought I’d agree so quickly to wear a mumu. But I did.
MADDY
I was sitting at the kitchen table with Petey later, both of us sipping our wine. (We both compromised on his drinks. He wouldn’t make me one, and he agreed. So he opened a bottle of red wine for us both to enjoy.) And we were watching Grandma Hazel trying to teach Clay the Heads Up game from Ellen DeGeneres. To be fair, he would’ve understood it the first time if all of my aunts, my mother, and grandma weren’t slurring so hard that only the word ‘the’ could be understood, and that was because we were guessing ‘eh’ was ‘the’.
That’s when Petey decided to say, “So, when are you going to tell everyone you went to Vegas to get married last week?”
I smiled. “When the time's right."
That’s when Petey decided to say, “So, when are you going to tell everyone you went to Vegas to get married last week?”
I smiled. “When the time's right."
THE END
Background for this short story:
I wanted to offer a free Christmas story of sorts and I asked Debra if she wanted to write it with me, so we wrote this live together. One of us started, then the other continued. We had no idea what we were going to write. There was absolutely no planning whatsoever, and there's also no editing for this one. It was literally just something fun, quick, and random we wrote for our readers! I hope you enjoyed and had a few laughs.
If you are one that celebrates the holidays, I hope you have a great one!
--Tijan
I wanted to offer a free Christmas story of sorts and I asked Debra if she wanted to write it with me, so we wrote this live together. One of us started, then the other continued. We had no idea what we were going to write. There was absolutely no planning whatsoever, and there's also no editing for this one. It was literally just something fun, quick, and random we wrote for our readers! I hope you enjoyed and had a few laughs.
If you are one that celebrates the holidays, I hope you have a great one!
--Tijan
