A Very Grey Christmas (3 page)

“When you have kids, you’ll know what I’m talking about. It’s not the last one, but they are all going to be different now. You have someone in your life, and at some point, you’ll have a family. And if you stay in Texas, you’re not going to drag everyone up here every year. We know how it works. We did the same thing. Just ask my parents. This is the reality of adulthood.”

I sat across from him, his words heavy like the gray clouds outside sinking around me. “So you and Mom are going above and beyond this year, huh?”

“It’s Christmas. We always go above and beyond.” He chuckled.

That was true. As an only child, I had grown up surrounded by double the love and attention. At Christmas, I think that meant double the presents and surprises. There was a reason it was my favorite holiday.

Suddenly, my idea to skirt out of here and have my parents drop me off at the airport on Christmas day seemed selfish. This wasn’t only my Christmas. This was their holiday too, with their only child.
Dammit
. Why couldn’t I have a sister?

I pulled the sweater tightly against my chest and tied the side tie at my hip. I had forgotten how bulky sweaters could be. My main wardrobe staple in South Padre was usually a tank top, and with good reason. It was hot.

The snow was either going to start falling tonight or sometime tomorrow afternoon. The skies were coated with thick gloomy clouds. One big snowfall and the brown yard and trees would be layered in white, glistening snow. It would be beautiful. We didn’t always have white Christmases, but I had had enough to know that they made everything seem extra magical and special. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked back into the house. Grey was going to miss it. He was going to miss all of this.

I reached for my phone. I had to try one more time. One more plea. One more desperate attempt to tell the man I loved that Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas if we weren’t together.

I watched the clouds swirl by. The phone rang until I got his voicemail.
Crap.
I couldn’t leave a message like that. I’d have to try him again later.

“Eden, what are you doing outside in this cold? And that’s not even a coat.” My mother stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

“I just wanted to breathe in some cold air.” I smiled and walked in the house. My cheeks were starting to feel numb, and they tingled once the heat hit them.

“The grocery store was a madhouse. I think this storm is going to be a big one.” She turned to unload the grocery bags. “I’m just glad we’re all together and I don’t have to worry about you flying in this or worse, trying to drive in it. I hope the snow holds off a little while longer though.”

I pulled out five pounds of flour and a bag of sugar. “I wouldn’t want to drive in this either.” I handed her the baking goods and then noticed there was a ham in another bag, along with two sacks of potatoes. Was she planning on an army for dinner? “What do you think about the caroling tonight? Will the snow be a problem?”

“Good thing about being in the neighborhood is that we don’t have to worry about driving anywhere. If you need a coat, you can borrow one of mine.”

I laughed. What was it about mothers and coats? “No, I’ve got one, thanks.” I was looking forward to seeing everyone tonight even if we were traipsing through the street in the snow.

My parents hadn’t moved since they bought the house when I was three. I couldn’t remember the apartment we had before. This was home. I grew up with the other kids on the street. Every few years someone would move out and a new kid would move in, but for the most part, these were the brother and sister playmates I never had. Caroling would be fun.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and pulled it out. “Mom, it’s Grey. I’ll be right back.” I turned for my room and answered the phone on the way. “Hey.”

“Hey, what’s happening at your parents’?”

“Not much. Getting ready for the great Christmas blizzard.” I closed the bedroom door behind me.

“They calling for a lot of snow?”

“Yes.” I chewed my bottom lip. “But it’s not supposed to be here until later.”

“Ahh. Ok.” He paused. “Are you ok? You sound a little down.”

“Actually, I’m not ok.”

“What’s wrong, darlin’?”

“Grey, please just come up here.” There, I said it. I wouldn’t ask again, but I had to try. “I don’t like us being in separate states. It defeats the whole reason we moved in together. I know Mason wouldn’t care if you left for a few days.”

He sighed into the phone. It was so loud it felt as if we were in the same room. “Eden, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know we have and I thought I was ok with our decision, but now that I’m here, I’m not ok with it. I need you here and I can’t leave my parents. They need me here too.” I was almost on the verge of tears. This entire situation was brutal.

“Dammit, there’s a delivery.” I heard him cover the receiver, and there was a muffled conversation on the other end. “I’ll call you back in a bit.”

Before I could protest, he was gone. I stared at my phone. I had to accept it. Grey wasn’t going to be here for Christmas. We were going to wake up in separate beds, in separate houses, in separate states. There was nothing merry about it.

“P
umpkin, you ready?” my dad called from the hallway. He was holding an extra scarf and gloves. “Your mother laid these out for you.”

“All ready.” I grabbed the extra layer and looped the scarf around my neck. “Where’s Mom?”

“Oh, she’s next door. Everyone is meeting at the Greens’ and she wanted to take over one of those pumpkin loaves she baked.”

“Oh, ok.” I followed him to the kitchen and noticed the lights were on in the guesthouse in the backyard. “Why are the lights on in the guesthouse? They weren’t on this afternoon.”

My dad fumbled with the buttons on his leather jacket. “I’m sure your mom was just tidying up. We can get them on the way back. Come on. They’re waiting for us.”

I looked out of the window again. I was certain I saw the outline of a Christmas tree in the window. My parents loved using the guesthouse when company visited. There was one bedroom, bathroom, and an open room that included a couch and kitchenette. They decided long ago it made the guests happy, and family visits went a lot more smoothly when everyone had a little more space. No one had mentioned additional holiday visitors this year.

Both sets of my grandparents usually came for Christmas lunch, but neither stayed the night since they were within an hour’s drive. They liked to get back on the road before it got dark. I’d ask Mom when I saw her.

“Dad, can you give me a second? I want to try to call Grey again.”

“Ok.”

I dialed his number again, but it went straight to voicemail. I didn’t understand. We had only talked for thirty seconds this morning, and I was certain he said he’d call me back. If I didn’t hear from him after caroling, I’d enlist Marin and Pick’s help to check on him.

I shrugged my shoulders. “No luck.”

“I’m sure he’ll call soon. Let’s go. I’ve been working on my
Let it Snow
rendition for this year.” Dad shuttled me out the door and across the lawn to the Greens’ driveway.

I couldn’t believe the snow hadn’t started yet, but the air felt thick and heavy as if flakes would start descending on us at any second.

“Eden!” Charlene Green ran over and pulled me into a hug. “How’s Texas?”

I smiled. “Hotter than this.”

“We’re so glad you’re back home. Where’s this boyfriend of yours though? We need to meet the guy who is responsible for you being so far away.” She waggled her finger at me.

“Grey had to work, Mrs. Green. I hope you get to meet him soon.” I realized how shady this sounded. It was as if I had made him up. Grey was like an imaginary friend and I was the only one who knew of his existence.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s home for Christmas.” My parents across-the-street neighbor, Alex Turnwell, beamed.

“Hi, Mr. Turnwell. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you. I’ll have to tell Peg you’re home. She’s going to want a visit while you’re here.”

“Absolutely. I’ll stop by and see her tomorrow if that’s ok.” Peg Turnwell had been on the upswing of a long battle with cancer. My mom kept me posted with her health updates. When I was a little girl, she used to make dresses for my dolls. The Turnwells never had children of their own, and I always thought of them as adopted grandparents.

“Looks like we’re all here. I think we should start at the cul-de-sac and work our way up and down the side streets,” Charlene Green shouted over the crowd.

“You mean like we do every year?” The comment came from the neighbor wise-cracking know-it-all, Bertie Spence. I wasn’t sure why she attended events when she was obviously annoyed with all of us.

Mrs. Green ignored the comment and led us to the edge of the driveway where she passed a lit candle along with a box of tall pillar candles. We learned long ago, the tapered ones dripped wax all over our hands even with those little stoppers, but the thick pillars lasted all night.

My dad draped an arm over my shoulder. “Ready for
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
?”

I nodded. “Sure am.”

I didn’t care that we did the same song order every year, or that we followed the same street route, or even that bitter Bertie joined us when we all knew she’d rather be at home watching
Jeopardy
. If I had to be away from Grey, at least I was somewhere where I was truly loved and appreciated.

My feet hurt after walking all of the neighborhood streets in my boots. I didn’t wear them nearly enough. I pulled on my heels and tossed them next to my suitcase. I heard the hall linen closet open and peeked my head out the door.

“Mom, what’s going on? Why are you taking ten towels out of there?”

She looked like I had caught her stealing a bag of diamonds.

“These? I’m just-just clearing out a few things.” She hurried down the hall. She was definitely up to something.

My throat felt dry after all the singing. My dad was always trying to get me to join him for a hot toddy. This felt like the perfect time. I walked to the kitchen to start a hot pot of water for some tea and rummaged through my dad’s liquor cabinet.

I looked out of the kitchen window and saw my mom in the guesthouse. There was a Christmas tree in there. The white lights glittered through the main window. As soon as the teapot whistled, I poured the steaming water in a mug and doused it with bourbon. This would be the perfect ending to a chilly night outside.

Five minutes later, Mom walked through the deck door, brushing off the first traces of snow from her shoulders and arms. “Oh, hi, honey. I didn’t see you there.”

“Hi. What’s going on in the guesthouse? Who’s the company?” I tasted the tea—it had just the right amount of bourbon. I could feel it warming my limbs already.

“Guests? Did you see the snow started? It’s beautiful.”

“Mom, what is going on?”

I had never seen her so jumpy. She almost dropped her phone when it dinged from a text message.

“Actually, would you mind helping me out there?” She reached behind me and grabbed a bottle of red wine from the rack. “I need this out there and I didn’t have enough arms when I took the towels.”