Mistletoe (15 page)

~~~

The sound of silverware clinking against a wine glass quieted the banquet hall, and all eyes looked toward the long table across the front of the room. As voices lowered to whispers and guests turned their chairs to get a better look, a tall man dressed in a black tuxedo walked to the small podium centered on the table. Adjusting the microphone to accommodate his six-foot-four height, he cleared his throat and looked out over the crowd.

“Good evening. As most of you know, my name is Jamison Nash,” he began as he scanned the room. “We are here tonight to celebrate the twenty-fifth wedding anniversary of two very special people…” Stopping, he looked to the two women sitting to his left, and giving them a quick wink, he continued, “…my parents, Jamison and Diana Nash.”

Applause filled the hall, and waiting for it to end, he took a quick sip of wine to steady his nerves. Adjusting his red silk tie, he leaned toward the microphone and began to speak again.

“When we started planning this party several months ago, I was informed by my brother, Ross, and my sisters, Lindsay and Kristin, that being the oldest meant that I would be expected to come up here tonight and say a few words about our moms. At the time, I didn’t believe that to be a problem, but as each week passed, and I thought about the words I wanted to say, I realized that my siblings had set me up to fail...and fail horribly, I might add. You see, what I want to say about my parents cannot be said in just a
few
words.

“I’ve known these two women for over twenty-three years, and while the first few years are a bit of a blur, the rest are as clear as crystal, and those are the years I’d like to talk about tonight.

“My siblings and I grew up in a home filled with more love and more laughter than you can possibly imagine.

It was rare that we ever awoke without a smile on our face, and no matter how badly we may have misbehaved, when we climbed into our beds at the end of the day, our mothers were always there to kiss us goodnight and tell us how much they loved us.”

Looking at his notes on the podium, he glanced at his sisters and brother and shrugged his shoulders. Pocketing the papers, he turned to look at the ones he lovingly called Mom and Mum.

“You nurtured us and you tickled us.

You taught us how to tie our shoes, ride our bikes, and the difference between right and wrong. By the example you set, we learned to respect not only others, but also ourselves, and to never be afraid to ask for help…or give it. There was never a problem too small or a question too stupid, and no argument was ever settled by either of you pulling out the parental trump card.”

Jamie and Diana sat with smiles on their faces, watching their eldest stand tall and handsome in a collarless tuxedo with satin piping down the edges. His hair was blond, his eyes were blue, and his voice was clear and crisp...and they were proud. Under the table, their hands were joined, and as they listened to his words, their grips grew stronger as their eyes filled with tears. Glancing at each other, they each took a breath and lifted their eyes to meet his. They could see he was proud, too.

“You spent many an evening by our side as we struggled to understand our lessons, and more than once you sat in uncomfortable chairs next to hospital beds when we decided to try to tempt gravity…and failed.”

Ripples of laughter flowed through the room, and waiting while his audience quieted, he thought back to a day when he was eight years old and had fallen out of a tree he had been told not to climb. He awoke in a hospital with one leg broken and two mothers on the verge of hysteria. They had tried to hide their worry behind smiles, but the tracks of dried tears on their faces had told him the truth. He had been but a child, but he knew the difference between right and wrong, and he had wronged the two people in the world who he loved the most. It was a day, and a feeling, that he had never forgotten.

Realizing that the laughter had ended, he didn’t think twice about leaning toward the microphone to continue his speech. “I stand here…I stand…I…”

Suddenly, he stopped as his voice cracked with emotion. Bowing his head, he took a deep breath and tried to stop the tears from filling his eyes, and not a sound could be heard as everyone waited for him to regain his composure.

With a shaky hand, he reached for his wine, and as he took a sip, he quickly glanced over at his mum.

Jamie looked back at her son, and the smile on her face matched the love in her eyes. Mouthing the words,
I love you
, she sent him a wink, and in a flash, his nerves were settled and his emotions were under control.

Taking a deep breath, Jamison cleared his throat and finished what he had started. “I stand here tonight, the voice of your children, to tell you that we could never have asked for, wished for…or
prayed
for better parents than the ones we were given. You allowed us our identities and our independence, and we thrived in the light of your love.’’

Before he could say another word, applause filled the room. Grinning wide at the response, he looked over at his brother and sisters, all of which were staring back in awe. He had done what they had thought was impossible. He had put into words what lived in their hearts.

Waiting until the clapping came to an end, he turned his attention back to his parents. “I think it’s fair to say that everyone in this room would agree that you’ve proven that love truly knows no boundaries and what you feel for each other and what you feel for your children, transcends any word known to man. You’ve set an example that we, your children, will do our best to uphold, and the values and traditions that you have given us, we promise to pass on to
our
children. They will know our love. They will know our laughter…and they will know that Santa Claus
does
exist.”

As he expected, laughter erupted in the room, and smiling at the sound, he waited until his audience got themselves under control.

“I see that there are some non-believers here tonight,” he said with a grin, leaning close to the microphone. “I can assure you that I’m not crazy, nor am I drunk. A minute ago, I mentioned traditions, and like most families, our traditions grew over time.

“As many of you know, having attended numerous Christmas Eve parties at our home over the years, this time of the year is very special to my family. You see, twenty-six years ago today, the two women you know as Jamie and Diana met at a party given by Theodore Phelan, and it was at that party that they shared their first kiss under a sprig of mistletoe. A sprig, I might add, that Theodore Phelan, to this day, assures us that he did not put there.

“One week later, at a party given by my sister’s godmother, Lillian Willoughby, the same thing happened. My parents shared a kiss under some mistletoe that Lillian, to this day, denies ever buying.”

Noticing that he had everyone’s attention, he paused for a second to let them absorb what he had said before continuing. “Two weeks after that, at the first Christmas Eve party held in my home, my parents met again,” he said as a large smile appeared on his face. “And as they say, the third time’s the charm.”

A titter of amusement rippled through the room, and glancing at his parents, his smile grew even wider at the sight of the blush creeping across their cheeks.

Suppressing a laugh, he turned back to the audience to finish his speech.

“Under a bouquet of mistletoe wrapped in red ribbon, they shared another kiss…and fell in love. That sprig had not been purchased by Mum, yet it somehow ended up hanging in our house. I suppose that a guest could have brought it with them, but that’s highly unlikely, or perhaps a staff member could have taken it upon themselves to decorate…but again, that doesn’t really ring true. So, I ask you, who else at Christmas would bring a gift into a home as if by magic?”

After pausing for a few seconds to allow everyone to ponder the question he had posed, he finished his speech.

“Although our traditions are many, the one that we hold most dear happens every Christmas morning. As we sit around our tree opening presents, we ask our parents to tell us their story, and with smiling eyes, they do just that. They talk about chance, and about magic. They talk about potpourri, and an impromptu snowball fight. They talk about views, once staunch, that mellowed with time, and about a love that happened almost overnight, and it is a love, without a doubt, that will last forever.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I ask that you stand and applaud my parents as I request that they take their place on the dance floor in celebration of their love.”

As deafening applause filled the room, Jamie and Diana stared at each other with wide-eyed surprise.

“Did you know about this?” Diana asked, leaning close so Jamie could hear her over the noise.

“If I did, I would have told you,” Jamie said, taking a much-needed gulp of wine.

With a snicker, Diana said, “You know, he’s just like you.”

“Tall, fair and handsome,” Jamie quipped, sliding back her chair.

“No, soppy and full of surprises,” Diana said, taking Jamie’s hand as she rose to her feet.

Smiling wide, with a twinkle in her eyes, Jamie leaned close and whispered, “You didn’t seem to mind my surprise this morning.”

Diana’s cheeks flamed instantly, but before she could say anything else, their children approached. With faces beaming and eyes filled with tears, they all exchanged hugs and kisses, and then Jamie took Diana’s hand and led her to the dance floor. As the room lights dimmed, the strings of fairy lights above the dance floor were turned on and seeing the sprigs of mistletoe hanging from each and every strand, everyone in the hall, including Jamie and Diana, laughed out loud. Shaking their heads at their children’s humorous decorations, the two women pulled each other close and as the sound of silverware clinking against goblets filled the room, they shared a long, loving kiss. The music began, their eyes met, and as they swayed to the melody, friends and family watched as the two women fell in love...again.

~~~

Three weeks later...

Deciding to check on the staff, Diana made her way down the hallway.

Entering the kitchen, she smiled at the men and women dressed as elves, and making her way to the counter, she browsed the selection of sweets before choosing a piece of chocolate from a tray and popping it in her mouth. Quickly coming to the conclusion that the staff had everything well under control, she turned to leave just as the back door opened and her son, Jamison, stepped inside.

“Christ, it’s cold,” he muttered under his breath as he shut the door against the wind. Pulling off his cap, he was about to remove his coat when his mother spoke up.

“What are you doing?” Diana asked.

Startled, he looked up, and draping his jacket over a nearby chair, he said, “Oh, hi Mom.”

“Don’t
hi Mom
me, young man,” Diana said as she walked over and looked up at her towering son. “What are you doing here? You know you’re supposed to be helping your grandfather.”

“Well, I would if he didn’t take after Mum.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Diana replied, crossing her arms and playfully glaring at her son.

Chuckling, Jamison leaned down and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “It means that he’s as stubborn as she is.”

“Who’s stubborn?” Jamie asked as she sauntered into the room.

“Hi, Mum.”

“Don’t
hi Mum
me. What are you doing up here? You’re supposed to be helping your grandfather.”

Accustomed to their uncanny way of repeating what the other had already said, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, well, I went down as you asked, but as soon as I suggested that he might need help, he balked and tossed me out of the barn.”

“Jamison, put on your jacket and go back down there,” Diana said.

“Sebastian’s eighty years old and I don’t want—”

“Darling, wait,” Jamie interrupted, putting her hand on Diana’s shoulder.

“Dad’s already told us that he’s retiring from Santa duties after this year and—”

“Sweetheart, I know, but I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Diana, he’s been playing Santa Claus for twenty-six years. All he’s asking is to go out like he came in…on a red sleigh pulled by two white steeds, and I think we should let him,” Jamie said softly, giving Diana’s shoulder a squeeze.

As soon as she heard Jamie’s tone of voice and saw the look in her eyes, Diana knew that she had lost the argument. “Fine, but if something happens, don’t come running to me for bandages.”

Turning on her heel, she marched from the room, leaving her son and her wife standing by the back door, trying their best not to laugh.

“That was easier than I thought,” Jamison said, smiling at his mother.

“Yes, but I’ll have hell to pay later,” Jamie said, grinning. “Jamison, do me a favor. Keep an eye on him, will you please?”

“Sure thing, Mum,” he said, putting on his jacket.

Noticing something bulging in the inside pocket of her son’s coat, Jamie asked, “What do you have there?”

“Huh? Where?”

Rolling her eyes, Jamie pointed at the lump in the fabric. “Coy is not your style, and you’ve never been able to lie to me. What’s in your pocket?”

Thinking for a moment, Jamison reached in and pulled out a small bottle of scotch. “This.”

Glancing at the label, Jamie said, “That’s very high-end.”

“He’s worth it, don’t you think?”

Jamison said, trying without success to read his mother’s expression.

Nodding her head, Jamie replied, “Wait a minute.”

Walking across the kitchen, she opened a cabinet and pulled out a tin of cookies she had placed there earlier that day. Returning to her son, she placed it in his hands. “Tell him that we wish him a Merry Christmas.”

~~~

Looking in the small mirror nailed to the wall of the barn, Sebastian Nash ran his fingers through his gray hair. No longer needing a wig to cover what was once brown, he pulled on the red Santa cap, adjusted the fake flowing white beard and sighed. Hearing the barn door slide open, he looked over and said, “You’re late.”

“Sorry, sir. I ran into a bit of bad weather.”