Page 4 of Oh Christmas Tree
“No, don’t. That’s dangerous. I may love Christmas, but I love you more.”
“Okay, honey. Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yes, I have cookies for days. The chicken is in the oven, potatoes are ready to be mashed, cranberry sauce is simmering, and Brussels sprouts only need to be made. Maybe we can FaceTime during dinner?”
“That’s an awesome idea, let me get the family in on it, okay?”
We say our goodbyes after that, and even though I’m sad and disappointed, the prospect of our digital dinner still puts me in the Christmas spirit.
It will all work out.
4
CHLOE
“Sorry, what are you saying, Uncle Ron?” Sighing, I try to make sense of what my uncle says. He’s supposed to drive up here with Granny, but I already know what he’s been trying to tell me.
“You’re not coming, are you?”
He says a lot more, but I don't understand his accent, which is so strong, and he muffles all the vowels. I do realize the gist of it. It’s gonna be lonely this Christmas…
We say our goodbyes, and when we hang up, my Christmas playlist starts echoing through my cabin again. I try to keep positive thoughts, God knows I try, but when Kylie Minogue starts purring‘Santa Baby’, I lose it. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I fling the first thing I can get my hands on away from me.
A metallic clang reverberates through the kitchen as the pot with eggnog hits the wall. Eggnog splatters the wall from floor to ceiling, and the pan drops in a puddle on the ground. Groaning, I bury my face in my hands. I always keep my composure, but my insufferable perfectionism and the anxiety that comes with it momentarily took over.
There’s only one more thing to do now. Drinking.
Multiple bottles line my kitchen counter. There’s wine, vodka, rum, and an emergency carton of eggnog.
Deciding it’s too soon for the hard stuff, and with the mess on the floor, I can’t really stomach eggnog, I pour myself a glass of wine. A big one. I down it all in a couple of big gulps. Stretching my shoulders, I roll my neck. Okay. Better now.
Composed, I pour myself another glass and get to work.‘I’ll be home for Christmas’starts playing, and I huff. Yeah fucking right.
“Hey Siri! Please change the playlist to Backstreet Boys Complete Collection.” I’m in no mood for Christmas songs now, and my favorite boy band always manages to cheer me up
“Changing playlist to Backstreet Boys Complete Collection,”Siri responds, and I smile—finally, something is going well.
‘I’m dreaming of white Christmas’sounds through the Bluetooth speaker, and I groan. Of course, Spotify would be playing their CHRISTMAS ALBUM first.
I give up, take another big gulp of wine, and mop up the eggnog.
When dinner time arrives,I am in my red Christmas dress, wearing my golden Christmas tree earrings, my Christmas Bow headband, and my biggest smile. The table looks perfect and I can’t wait to show it to my family.
I’m almost at the bottom of the bottle of wine, but that’s okay. I will drink plenty of water as well. It will all work out.
Munching on garlic bread, I set up the call. While I wait for my family to join, I make myself a beautiful plate: stuffedchicken with cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and Brussels sprouts. I even have a glass of Eggnog to complete the picture.
When my mom and dad join in, there are enthusiastic waves, but the connection hitches, and they move really staccato. That’s okay, though. We are sort of together, and I take a sip of wine.
Aunt Gemma and her family are next, but the screen remains black, and their voices sound as if they’re calling from underwater.
We try, we really try, but after a couple of minutes, I’m out of wine, and the connection has been lost.
Tears come creeping out of my eyes. Angrily, I wipe them away. ‘Let it Snow’is playing softly in the background, and I take a sip of eggnog. Making a face, I rise to grab the rum. I am going to get really, stupidly drunk.
After I add a healthy amount of rum to the eggnog, I take my cup to the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of my cabin. The storm is raging outside. It’s no wonder I lost connection. The thought barely left my brain, or the lights start flickering, before total darkness sinks in.
No, no, no, not the power! For a hot minute, I am rooted to the ground. I have an emergency generator, which means power should be restored in…
