One Tearful Christmas

Lisa J

Chapter Three

As her thoughts drifted between present and past, Cassy continued her gift-wrapping task, intent on getting the right amount of curl on the end of one package's ribbon and neatly creasing the box edges before setting it aside to start on the next.  While she wistfully compared her creative handiwork to that of her father's, Tom's voice suddenly broke through her reverie.

"Did you ever stop to think maybe you're trying too hard?" 

Startled, she almost wondered if he'd been reading her thoughts.  "Trying too hard to do what?"

 "To make it all perfect.  To have the House Beautiful version of Home for the Holidays." 

Gesturing with his empty wine goblet, he swept his arm over the stack of meticulously wrapped presents, including the twinkling tree awaiting adornment within his expanse.  "You've got artistic creations instead of simply wrapped boxes, the finest hand-blown glass ornaments to hang on the tallest tree you can find.  Nothing but the very best decorations and window displays year after year after year.  You get so stressed out trying to make everything appear perfect for others that you don't get to enjoy the holiday for yourself."

"I don't--"  She opened her mouth to refute him, but he continued his chiding as if she'd said nothing.

"Maybe if you stopped trying to live up to Evelyn's standard of what Christmas should be like, you could take some time to make yourself happy for once. 

"All of this is what makes me happy," she justified.  "It has nothing to do with what my mother expects.  The prize-winning gift-wrap and ornate decorations, the tree trimmed just so....  That's my version of the perfect holiday season; the way I think Christmas should be." 

Like the happy ones from my childhood, she silently added.

"As long as it's what you want...," he relented.  "Just remember, a lot of times what appears to be perfect is just an illusion."

"Or a long lost memory," she murmured.

Ignoring the quiet rebuttal, Tom turned his nose to the air.  "Hey, Cass?  Are you baking something?"

"My cookies!"  Jumping up from the table, she dashed to the kitchen, discovering once she entered that the music had drowned out the sound of her timer. 

"Oh, no," she moaned as she pulled the over-browned shapes from the oven.  "They're all burnt."

"Nah, they're just extra crispy," Tom laughed.  "Once you get ‘em frosted, no one will ever know the difference.  Besides, I hate those soft, underdone kind of cookies.  Don't you?"

Sounding exactly like something her father would say, his words sent her thoughts tumbling back to that last family Christmas....

<>

  "Doll, Mama."  With a bright red sticky-bow adorning her single gold curl, two-year-old Claudia toddled and teetered among the discarded gift-wrap, proudly displaying her new cherished possession.  "Mine... doll."

"Yes, Baby.  That's your new doll from Santa," her mother cooed, giving the tyke a hearty, one-armed hug while trying to clean up all the boxes and mess. 

Nearly all the presents had been opened to the chorus of three sisters oohing, aahing and squealing over this gift or that.  Claudia received her stand-alone Suzy Q doll and Christina her much wished for E-Z Bake Oven.  All that remained was the small, rectangular package Cassy had purposely saved ‘til the end. 

Wrapped in bright green-foil paper, it was nearly hidden under the boughs of the tree, and she'd pretended all along not to see it, though she'd really searched it out first thing that morning.  It was the only gift marked for her that could possibly be the bracelet she longed for, and she wanted to savor the anticipation for as long as she could. 

Finally, when she could hardly wait any longer, her father crawled under the tree to pull out the last, lonely gift.  His eyes were bright with the same happy glow hers were when he beamed, "Cassy Lynn, it looks like you forgot one."  Although, she knew that he knew she hadn't forgotten at all.

Slowly taking the package in hand, she very gently unwrapped it, balancing the cardboard jewelry box on her palm for a breath before painstakingly lifting the lid. 

Distracted as she was by her two younger daughters, Cassy's mom didn't witness the heartache her oldest endured when she found nestled in the soft cotton a shining gold bracelet, adorned with not one dangling charm but several.  In fact, the whole gaudy chain was dripping with cutesy little girl's charms: a panda bear, a bunny rabbit, a Scotty dog, even a Siamese kitten with emerald stones for its eyes.

Granted, it was a gold bracelet, but it wasn't anything like what she wanted, and it was all she could do to still her trembling lips with a smile for the sake of the man who eagerly watched her with his own anticipation.  He wanted so much for her to be happy that she didn't dare disappoint him with her own selfish emotions.  After all, it wasn't his fault her mom only knew how to buy dumb, stupid gifts.

"Well, do you like it?"  He asked.  "Is it the same one you wanted?"

"It's... it looks like real gold," she managed, hiding her eyes from his gaze as she studied the tag.  "Fourteen carat."

"Why don't you let Dad have a look-see, and I'll put it on for you." 

Cassy's hand shook as she handed over the bracelet, her façade crumbling completely when he innocently asked, "Where's your name engraved on this thing?"

"It's not on there," she sighed as she tried to hang on to her tears.

"What do you mean, it's not on there?"  He demanded with a scowl toward her mother.  "Isn't that what makes it an ‘Ident', or whatever it was that you called it?"

 "It doesn't matter, Daddy," she lamely assured him as she saw her mother approaching.  Afraid they were going to argue again because of her, she insisted, "Really, it doesn't--"

Oblivious to the distress she had caused, Evelyn asked of her daughter, "Cassandra, would you like to help me serve brunch now that the gifts are all opened?"

Before she could utter a response, her dad answered for her.  "How about if I volunteer to help out?"  Though the words sounded kind, his dark eyes told of his anger, and Cassy knew she'd become the cause, once again, for his discontent toward her mother. 

No longer able to hold back her tears, she made a mad dash toward her bedroom as her parents battled it out in the kitchen.  But, as she rounded the corner into the hallway, she couldn't stop herself from listening to the words floating past the swinging wood doors.  As painful as it was to hear of their discord, it was harder to move on without knowing.

"It was the only thing she wanted, Evelyn; the one gift I asked you to take care of."

"And I did," her mother defended. "She wanted a gold bracelet, and that's what I bought her.  A much better quality of gold than those chintzy I.D. bracelets, too, I might add.  And this one was much cuter, I thought."

"I don't believe you!" The deep voice rose in his exasperation. "You knew exactly what is was that she asked for, and you still chose what you preferred, overall."  

Cassy heard the brunch plates rattle as he pulled them from the cabinet and slam-closed the door. "How could you purposely disappoint her that way?"

For a moment, there was nothing but silence emanating from the kitchen until she heard her mom's voice, meek-sounding and sad. "Cassandra didn't like the bracelet I picked out?"

"She had her heart set on something else, entirely," her father sighed, his own voice seeming to lose some of its anger.  "Evelyn, why couldn't you just get what she asked for?"

"I tried to, Robert.  Honestly, I did."  Defeated and sounding near tears, Cassy heard her mother rustle around the room before apparently finding and unzipping her purse.  "This is the bracelet she asked for."

Another short pause followed before her dad uttered, "Cassandr-... what?  What happened to the last letter?" 

"Oh, Robert.  I messed it all up, and I didn't want you to be mad.  So, I just kept my mouth shut," she confessed.  Heaving a martyred sigh, she went on to explain. 

"With all the holiday shopping going on, the store was crowded, and the salesperson was harried; most likely inexperienced, to boot.  She asked me to spell out the name letter by letter while she engraved it.  What she neglected to inform me was that there was an eight letter maximum...."

"She wanted the name ‘Cassy' engraved, not Cassandra," her dad muttered guiltily.

"Well, it might've been nice if someone had made me aware of that fact."  Evelyn's anger suddenly sparked, and Cassy grew fearful again until her mom's voice bemoaned in frustration, "By the time the mistake was realized, it was too late to repair it, and there were no other bracelets in stock; all the styles were sold out. Rather than leave empty-handed, I tried to pick out something comparable.  Apparently, the charm bracelet was a poor choice."

 Cassy had never heard her mom sound remorseful about anything, but her distress seemed genuine, and moreover, her father appeared to have forgiven her poor taste in jewelry as well.

"Oh, Ev," he said in that tone that usually precedes a comforting hug.  "I know you meant well.  I just hated to see Cassy Lynn so unhappy."

"I never meant to...."

"I know," he soothed.  "And we can still get her the I.D. bracelet after the holidays when they restock."

As she continued the trek to her bedroom, Cassy was still saddened over not getting her bracelet, but hearing her parents make up from their argument almost made up for it.  She hated the thought of them falling out of love with each other over a dumb old bracelet she really didn't need in the first place. 

She knew kids from school whose parents got divorced and never saw each other again because they couldn't stop fighting.  Some of her friends never got to see their fathers at all, making Cassy grateful for the time between business trips that she was allowed to have hers.  Like she'd told herself before, she could do without presents at all if it meant she'd always have her dad around. 

The mere thought of spending one single Christmas without him reduced her to tears all over again, which was how her father found her when he quietly entered to witness her sniffling and sobbing as she sat on her bed.

Settling himself on the edge of the mattress, he reached for a tissue and dabbed her damp cheeks.  "I'm sorry about your present, my sweet Cassy Lynn."

"It's okay, Daddy," she snuffed, embarrassed to tell him the real reason she was crying for fear of jinxing it.

"Your mom wants to take you to pick out a new one after the holidays," he promised.  "One like you wanted.  How does that sound?"

"It's just a silly bracelet.  Now that I've thought about it, I don't really need that other one. The charm bracelet she got me is fine."

"Well, we'll see about that."  He gave her a gentle pat on her thigh.  "Now, let's dry up those tears.  It's not proper to cry on Christmas; it spoils Jesus' birthday.  You wouldn't want somebody sobbing all over your party, now, would you?"

"Uh-uh," she giggled in spite of herself.

"I didn't think so," he chuckled. "Now, I need you to go eat some of Mom's overdone cookies or else she'll be the one crying...."

<>

Suddenly seeing the tears in her eyes, Tom automatically took her into his arms, chuckling softly as he soothed, "Aw, come on, Cassy.  They're just cookies.  It's nothing to cry about... really."

"They're just like the ones Mom used to make," she snuffled against his chest with a sigh.  "Back when my dad...."  Her words trailed off with another shuddering sigh.

Stepping back to hold her at arms length, her former spouse made no attempt to hide his dismay.  "Now, Cass... you're not going to convince me that your mother ever baked Christmas cookies.  Not Evelyn St. John, the queen of bah humbugs.  Nope.  No way.  Never.  Just couldn't happen...."

Once he had her smiling, he wiped her eyes with his thumbs and asked with concern, "You want me to stay and help trim the tree?"

"No, it's okay."  Preferring to bask in the memory of the dad she so dearly missed, Cassy declined the kind offer with a shake of her head.  "I'd rather do it myself."

"You sure?  I did a pretty good job with those lights...."

"No, you go on home.  I'm sure you have your own decorations to deal with."

"I don't know...."  He shrugged uncertainly.  "I might pass on all that this year." 

Before she could remind him of his declaration to celebrate in honor of others, he was halfway out the front door, pausing in the foyer to point at the ceiling.  "Don't forget to hang your mistletoe," he grinned.  "Who knows?  You might get lucky this year."

Heaving a put-upon sigh, she took aim with the cookie she held, but decided it wasn't worth getting crumbs on the floor.  Instead, she shot him a baleful glare as he opened the door.  "Goodbye, Tom."

"Bye."  He winked before slipping off into the night. 

~~~