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Christmas Bonus
1 Silent Night
Eva
I’ve been reducedto listening to Mariah Carey. Oh, how far the mighty fall. In high school— heartbroken and jaded by love—“All I want for Christmas is You” seemed trite and gag-worthy. Tonight, I feel those lyrics with a force that shocks me.
“They still might make it,” Papou says from his recliner. “The storm seems to be letting up.”
Guilt laces his tired voice as he keeps vigil with me, watching The Weather Channel on mute to keep up with the latest on the blizzard that appeared out of seemingly nowhere. This is a far cry from our typical Christmas Eve spent at Church, but bitter cold temperatures keep my aging grandparents, devout as they are, tucked indoors and under electric blankets that soothe their aching joints.
A quick glance out the front bay window which faces the street reveals a Silent Night in Ironville, but snow always falls silently.
The ticker at the bottom of the screen remains unchanged. Cancelled flights all over the country, stranded holiday passengers who number in the thousands, travel delays that will likely take days to sort out.
“You should have gone to the bowl game,” Papou admonishes for the millionth time. “You are young. There was no sense in you being cooped up at home with us for a week.”
I offer Papou a smile to combat the tears that threaten to fall. “Rob understood that I wanted to spend the holidays with you. He didn’t mind. This isn’t a very important game anyway; it’s more like a pat on the back for not continuing State’s losing streak.”
“Be that as it may, it’s the first time the Miners have received a bowl bid in nearly a decade. You deserved to watch it in person as much as any fan.”
Even if I could have afforded to go, Rob insisted I come home for the holidays. He’s as aware as I am of Papou’s failing health. He understands better than most that time is a precious gift, not to be thrown away. He would give up this measly bowl game for another Christmas with his grandfather, I’m sure of it.
“Don’t stay up too late.” Papou rises from his seat with a deep sigh. “We will postpone breakfast and gifts if we must.”
“It’s fine, really. Rob doesn’t even know what he’s missing. He’s never spent a Christmas morning with us before.”
“All the more reason to include him this year.” Papou winks before he ascends the stairs, the creak of his knee competing with the sounds of the old wood supporting his weight.
The warm, twinkling lights on the tree combine with the soft music in the background as the television flickers an unending parade of White Christmas shots. My eyelids grow heavy, fluttering closed more often than not. If I haven’t heard from Rob by now, I probably won’t until morning.
Time to head to bed. Or more likely, the closet.
It’s already Christmas anyway.
From the kitchen, my phone sings out a specifically chosen melody. Nearly face planting on the floor in my rushed efforts to disentangle myself from the blanket I had wrapped around me on the couch, I race into the other room, frantically searching the countertops that are still smattered with flour from a baking marathon for my phone.
Just when I know the song will cut off, I spy my cell and swipe the screen to answer the call I’ve been waiting on all day.
“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Rob’s voice croons from the speaker, a little off-key like he usually sings, but deep, clear, and the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard nonetheless. “You can plan on me. Please have no more snow…”
I snicker in spite of myself.
“…and lots of mistletoe, and presents under the tree.”
Before I can respond, a chorus of male voices joins in. “Christmas Eve will find me where the love light gleams. I’ll be home for Christmas if only in my dreams.”
A round of applause coupled with shouts of praise follow until Rob’s voice comes back over the line. “Merry Christmas, baby. Sorry I’m not there.”
“From the news reports, no one’s going anywhere tonight. Are you stuck at the airport?”
“Yeah. The whole team’s here. They ran out of room at the local hotels, so we volunteered our block to families who needed them more than we did. The airport’s still packed though.”
“Any idea when you guys will get to fly out?” They already missed their original flight well over ten hours ago.
“It’s not looking good. The last we heard was maybe the day after Christmas if we’re lucky. Coach is working on it, but it looks like we’ll be stranded with everyone else.”
I guess being a bowl-winning football team doesn’t mean shit when it’s the holidays, and a blizzard is bearing down. “Well, at least you’re not alone?”
