Something Meaningful
Chewing on my bottom lip, I stare at the Christmas tree in my parents’ living room. It’s the same one they had when we were younger, decorated with all the same hideous hand-crafted ornaments my sister and I made over the years, same strings of lights with the big bulbs, and the same red tree skirt cut out of some leftover material my mother had. It’s so ugly that it’s beautiful. They always put it up by the big window in the front of the house. When I come up their street this time of year, and I see this God awful tree shining bright, I feel like a kid again—transported back to a time before the magic of Christmas was lost on me. If only for a moment.
“He is such a bastard,” I hiss, turning to my baby sister.
Julianna is back in Tennessee for good, thanks to that no-good cheating husband of hers. A fact I didn’t find out until she was already back here and sleeping in Lizzy’s guest bedroom. You would think I would be a more obvious and appropriate choice for Julianna’s call of need, but I hadn’t even been her second call. Cat’s the one who filled me in on what was going on. Of course, Smyth being the small busybody town that it is, my entire family had already heard the news by the time Julianna arrived for Christmas at our parents’ house. She spent a good thirty minutes after walking in the door explaining to everyone what happened, while I sat back with my arms crossed waiting to get her to myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on? I would have been there for you."
She closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose as she takes a deep breath. When she opens them again, she stands a little straighter and meets my gaze. “Look, it wasn’t personal. I’m sorry. I don’t know…” her words trail off as she runs her hands through her hair. “My world was falling apart, and I was simply trying to hold it together. Please don’t be upset with me.”
I pull her into my arms, giving her a tight hug before leaning back to make eye contact again. “Of course I’m not upset with you. Hurt, maybe.” I take a deep breath and give her a soft smile. “I only want you to know I’m here for you. I’m your sister, you can always count on me.”
She nods, her features mimicking mine. “I know. Tell you what, why don’t we have lunch together after the holiday, that way we can talk one on one?”
“Really?” My smile widens. “Okay, I’d like that very much.”
“Good,” she says, giving me another quick hug before pulling away. “Now, before I forget. Cat stopped by Lizzy’s with a gift for you.”
She walks over to the couch where her bag is sitting, and I follow behind her. “Gift? But we exchanged gifts yesterday.”
Julianna faces me, gift in hand, and shrugs. “No clue. Why don’t you open it and find out?”
She extends the box to me, and I eye the small card taped to the top of it as I take it. My mother calls for Julianna from the kitchen, and she rolls her eyes before heading in that direction. When she’s gone, I flip the note open, and my stomach drops.
To Lori,
Here’s a little something meaningful. Hope you approve. Merry Christmas.
Steven
My stomach is in knots as I pull down the gravel driveway up to the tiny yellow house next to the railroad tracks. The white shutters are starting to show their age, even though I spent last summer repainting them. The concrete steps are a little cracked, slowly pulling away from the tiny landing in front of the blue door. Even with the railing I installed last year, I worry about those steps being a hazard.
This place probably wouldn’t seem like much to most people, but it’s home to me—a place of comfort and solace when I needed it the most. And the person inside is my savior. She was there for me during the worst time of my life and has continued to be my rock all these years.
My father died when I was only nine years old, and my mother was gone the following year. My grandparents took me in, brought me here to their home to love and care for me. Then my grandfather passed two years later from cancer, leaving only me and my grandmother to lean on each other.
I park and turn my gaze to Cat, who’s smiling warmly at me, but I can see the apprehension on her face. We just left her parents’ beautiful twenty-five hundred square foot home—much different from the eleven-hundred square feet we’re about to enter.
She reaches over, placing her hand on my thigh. “Why do you look so nervous? You’ve already made it through meeting my family. I think I’m the one who is supposed to be sweating now.”
Laughing, I shake my head. The truth is, I’m much more anxious about Cat meeting my grandmother than I was with her parents. I’ve always been great with parents, and hers seem to be no exception. But I’ve never brought anyone home to meet Gram, and she’s known for being brutally honest. She says it’s a rite of passage that comes with old age. There’s no telling what might come out of her mouth.
That aside, I might also be feeling a little self-conscious. Cat grew up with two adoring parents, who not only loved her, but each other very much. My parents hadn’t exactly been a good example of what love should be. Their relationship was tumultuous at best. I haven’t shared much with Cat about my parents, or how they died, and I’m not ready to either.
“Your parents were wonderful, and I’m sure my grandmother is going to love you,” I assure her, placing my hand over hers.
“Why the worried face then?”
I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand. “After being at your parents’, I know this isn’t what you’re used to.”
Cat’s eyebrows knit as she tilts her head. “I actually lived in a house a lot like this one when I was younger. It wasn’t too far from here either,” she says, a slight bite in her tone.
Great. She probably thinks I’m ashamed of where I come from now, but that’s not the case at all. My concern isn’t about the size of my grandmother’s home or what side of town it’s on. What’s troubling me is Cat is used to having a big family, and all I’ve got is Gram. I don’t ever want her to look at me with pity. My road through life hasn’t always been easy, but it’s never failed to take me where I need to go.
Two hours later, I’m helping Gram clean up from dinner while Cat looks through photo albums of me as a boy. The evening has gone off without a hitch, but I know Gram well enough to tell she doesn’t care for Cat.
So, when she comes shuffling into the kitchen, the corners of her eyes crinkled and lips pressed, I have a pretty good idea what she’s going to say.
“That girl isn’t right for you,” she whispers.
Sighing, I look over her shoulder, worried Cat might hear her. “What are you talking about? Cat is great. How can you not like her?”
She shakes her head, her lips curving into a frown. “Don’t go putting words in my mouth, boy,” she says, wagging a finger at me. “I didn’t say I didn’t like her. I’m only saying she isn’t right for you.”
I roll my shoulders and crack my knuckles. “Well, I respectfully disagree. Cat is perfect for me.”
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Oh yeah, she lines up perfectly with the idea you’ve built in your head of what love should be. But your ideas are wrong. When you told me about the woman you met at the coffee shop, there was a glow about you. I had hope she would be the one, but there’s no spark between you and Cat. You know I’m right.”
My stomach knots with dread because a part of me knows she’s right. The woman I told her about was Lori, not Cat. That’s why she doesn’t see that same light in me today. But I’m not about to tell Gram that. Lori isn’t an option, and I like Cat a lot. I might not feel the same glimmer with her as I had with Lori, but embers can be easily extinguished.