Dear Santa,
How are the reindeer? I’ll be asleep when you come, but my dad gets up real early. You need to bring my toys before five-thirty in the morning so he doesn’t see you. Please bring him a new pair of gloves. His have a hole in the fingers.
Thanks,
Joe
Sitting at Sunday brunch at his mom’s with Virgil felt like old times. Geoff tried to remember the last time all three of them had done this.
It had to have been at least six years ago, but the menu was exactly the same. She’d made omelet croissant boats.
His favorite.
Fresh croissants scalped and gutted, then filled with a mixture of egg, cooked bacon, cheese, seasonings and fresh chives baked in the oven until the eggs fluffed. This was her special brunch recipe. She arranged the boats in a circle on a glass platter like a breakfast regatta next to the bowl of fresh fruit and vanilla yogurt in a cut-glass bowl.
Geoff poured fresh juice for all of them and sat down at the table.
Virgil blessed the food as he always did, with one extra “please, Lord, watch over Rebecca” added in. Geoff noticed Virgil squeeze his mother’s hand.
Mom stuck to the fruit, he noticed, but didn’t say anything. He was sure it had something to do with doctor’s orders, and that made him happy.
After brunch, they adjourned to the living room to help his mother put up her Christmas tree.
The ceiling-scraping pre-lit tree had been a best seller at Christmas Galore a few years back. Virgil had the thing up in less time than it took Geoff to gather the boxes from the attic.
“Almost looks good enough to me with nothing on it,” Geoff said.
“No sir. Don’t you wimp out on me,” his mother said.
“I’m just kidding.” He stacked the boxes next to the coffee table. “Just a few more. I’ll be right back.”
“Tree skirt first,” his mother insisted.
Virgil sifted through the boxes. “Here it is.”
She unfolded the creamy white fabric and walked out on the deck to give it a good shake and fluff. She slid the door closed behind her, and then spread the skirt out beneath the tree. The silky fabric shimmered. Crystal beads had been hand-stitched into place in the shape of snowflakes, which reflected the twinkle lights from the tree above.
Geoff came back with a stack of three more red-and-green storage boxes. He opened a box of glass balls and handed them to his mother. Then handed Virgil a box of silver stars to hang, saving his favorites, the Twelve Days of Christmas ornaments, for himself. Made of molded mercury glass, each decoration represented a verse of the song, with a small golden number dangling below it. He started at the top with the first-day ornament with the partridge in a pear tree. Moving around the tree he hung the ornaments in order as he hummed the song, ending with the drummers.
It had been these ornaments that had taught him the order of those crazy gifts of Christmas in the carol.
His mother peered over her shoulder at him and smiled.
Before long the tree was filled with ornaments, and memories.
“It’s perfect.” She took a step back, clasping her hands in front of her.
“Very nice, Rebecca,” Virgil said.
Geoff walked around the tree. “No. It’s not quite perfect.”
“Did we miss a spot?” His mother rushed around to where he was standing, studying every branch.
“No.” He walked over to his jacket on the couch and pulled out the red box with the gold bow. “For you.”
“Oh, I’ll put it under the tree. You’re so thoughtful.”
“No.” Geoff touched her arm to stop her. “It’s for you today.”
“But it’s not even Christmas.”
“I know that, but I’d like you to enjoy it now too,” Geoff said.
She looked like she’d already guessed what it was. “Thank you.” She opened the box. “Geoff, it’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“This is fourteen-carat gold. Where did you find this?” She spun the ornament from its fancy hook between her fingers. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“I bought it at the little shop in the lighthouse.”
“Heart of Christmas,” she said, exchanging a glance with Virgil.
“I read in the paper this morning that they’re closing shop on Christmas Eve,” Virgil said.
“Goodness. Geoff told me that rumors were going around the store was in trouble. I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Everything in the store is fifty percent off,” Virgil said. “Right off the bat.”
Geoff’s mouth went dry. He grabbed the newspaper off the counter, and started flipping through it. Virgil had read it right. Heart of Christmas was closing its doors on Christmas Eve. She was really going through with it. Every single thing in stock was marked down half-price. There wasn’t even that much of a markup on some of the kinds of things she carried.
“Who’s up for dessert?” his mother asked. “I made pumpkin pie.”
“With whipped cream on mine,” Virgil said.
Geoff closed the paper. “None for me.” He’d lost his appetite. Although he knew it wasn’t his fault Heart of Christmas was closing, he felt bad for the stress he’d added to Angela’s already difficult situation.
Filled with regret he sat down on a bar stool.
Virgil twisted around from the couch. “You worried that going-out-of-business sale is going to throw our sales off?”
Geoff shook his head. “Not really. It’ll certainly pull a certain amount of the holiday spend, but what we sell is so different.”
“What’s the matter, then?”
He could never hide his moods from Virgil. “Just sorry a family business is going under,” Geoff said.
His mother walked out of the room and came back carrying two plates. She handed Virgil his, then took a seat in the blue recliner where she always sat. “It is sad. The lighthouse is on the historic places list, so that will still stay on the town’s radar. Maybe that new tourism board will think of something to do with it.” His mother had a sly grin on her face.
Virgil shoved a forkful of pie into his mouth. “You know, your mother was telling me that you might volunteer for that committee. They are merging the retail merchants group and the business development committee into this new tourism board. They’ll be looking at the brand of Pleasant Sands as a whole. You know, coming up with a marketing plan and showcasing the town to optimize tourism.”
Geoff hadn’t contacted the mayor about it, but the mayor had sent him an email about it too. He wasn’t entirely certain that his mother hadn’t told them to send that email. He wouldn’t put it past her. “I don’t know that I have time for all of that.”
Virgil’s bushy eyebrows rose. “You don’t not have time for it, boy. That board will drive the demographics and tourism rates for all of us in business in this town. You could do good things as part of that team.”
Rebecca smiled gently. “You should share your experience. You’re a natural at branding.”
Maybe he could offer something of value to that tourism board after all. “Well, it is the season of giving.”
His mother sat forward. “Are you thinking about it?”
“Would that make you happy?” he asked.
“Delighted. Absolutely delighted. And proud.”
Geoff wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his mother look happier.
“I’ll contact the mayor in the morning.”