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“Fair enough.” He climbs to his feet and helps Lisa up. “Let us love you, Paige-girl. We’re better at it the older we get.”
Lisa holds out her arms for a hug, and I accept it and murmur a promise to let them, but to myself, I give a second, silent promise.I will be deserving of this kind of love.
“Stay home tomorrow,” Bill says.
“I’ll work if he needs me,” Lisa adds. “Evie is going to want you and no one else.”
The house is quiet for a couple more hours after they leave. I’m thankful for the time off to take care of Evie, even though I can afford time off less than ever. I settle back in my spot in her room, getting a full cup of water down her the next time she wakes up, then helping her when she throws it up fifteen minutes later.
I really, really hate the flu.
She’s in a sound sleep when there’s another knock on the door. It’s after dinner now, and since I doubt it’s Bill and Lisa, my heart picks up. It has to be Henry. Maybe he noticed a lack of Christmas cheer when Evie didn’t leave a gift for him before school this morning. Maybe he’s even ready to forgive me.
I hurry to the door, but when I throw it open, I find two vaguely familiar people standing there instead. Maybe I’ve helped them at the store?
“Hi,” I say, smiling.Please don’t be here to ask me about my eternal salvation. Or to sell me anything.“Can I help you?”
The woman gives me a tight smile, and that’s when it clicks in my memory: this lady and her husband were the couple who got passive-aggressive about my light display the other day.
“We’re here on behalf of the concerned residents of Orchard Street. We’ve hoped for several years that when this house sold, it would go to someone interested in restoring its character in a way that reflects our neighborhood values. Since that doesn’t seem to be the case, we’ve come to present you with this petition. We hope you’ll consider our position and rethink yours.”
I take the clipboard she’s handing me out of habit, like when Evie hands me something and suddenly I’m carrying around her trash.
“Have a good evening,” she says as she and her husband turn to leave, and somehow, I doubt that she means it.
I stare after them for a minute, feeling like I just witnessed someone get struck by a truck without realizing it’s me yet.
Then I close the door and lean against it, reading through the petition.
We, the homeowners of Orchard Street, request that the owner of 341 Orchard please revise your Christmas display to better suit the aesthetic of the street. In particular, the excessive traffic your display has drawn is untenable and degrades the quality of life we enjoy on our quiet street. The influx of vehicles is disruptive, and the style of your decorative choices is at odds with the spirit of Orchard.
We realize these are subjective parameters, so we tender the following list of changes to give you specific, actionable steps you can take as a demonstration of your commitment to community and long-term goodwill:
Reduce the number of lights by half
Remove any plastic yard decorations
Choose a unified color theme and stay with it
Remove the more amateur display elements, e.g.,thehand paintedChristmas scenes
Turn off light displays at 8:30 PM
For examples of how to create a more coherent theme, please visit the Main Street store windows with particular focus on Handy’s Hardware, which uses color in a tasteful and pleasing way.
Signed,
Concerned Neighbors
I can’t even enjoy the irony of them directing me to my own window display as a model for what they want; a white-hot anger is burning its way through my chest.
The list of names is long, and at the moment, I don’t even want to look at them. Instead, I slap the paper down on the back of the sofa and march down the hall and out the back door, straight to the shed where I have four more bins of unused lights because I couldn’t find anywhere to put them.
Believe me, I’ll figure it out now.
So help me, if I have to climb every branch of the tree in the front yard to wrap it with lights,I will.
Howdarethey? This crazy patchwork of light and color looks like it sprouted from the imagination of a seven-year-old because itdid. It’s the realization of every Christmas decorating wish she’s ever had, all come to life in what should be our most special Christmas—the first one in our own home.
