Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

The Christmas meal turned out similar to Thanksgiving. But the cacophony had escalated at least ten fold. Lainy managed to record the chaos on video, somehow. Excited kids ripping into gifts, tearing from one cheerily wrapped package to the next.

Gag gifts abounded among the adults, which had somehow become a tradition. “Some ying yang gave Ed a whoopee cushion. His wife, Zara, got blamed and has taken the burden of guilt well, but we still don’t know whether she’s actually guilty,” Lainy informed Mitch as she recorded.

Ed snuck the cushion under anyone he could with a maniacal glee. No one was immune to his newest gift. “You have to be very careful where you sit. Even then, you still could have problems,” Lainy warned on video. She hoped her voice indicated her feelings on the matter. Ed was the limit.

He’s like a child tucked into an adult’s body.” Lainy caught her mother saying to an aunt.

See, Mitch, this is what you’re missing. Lucky you.” Laurie shook her head as she went after yet another kid. Toys caused more than one accident, and traffic congestion of the human kind provided delays in the food being delivered to the tables. Several people toppled due to a sack of marbles that “accidentally” spilled on the floor. Someone pointed in Tom’s direction since someone had given him the sack to replace his lost marbles. Yet no one ruled out Ed, either.

Someone else received itching powder, but Lainy’s mother intercepted the stuff and threw it into the toilet. Much to a nephew’s disappointment. She handed him a candy cane and kept going. “How my mother manages to be everywhere at once and still prepare dinner is beyond me, so don’t ask, okay?”

Stepping over and around cars, dolls, modeling clay, coloring books and crayons, a few MP3 players she itched to take apart, and various other toys for the kids and teenagers, Lainy showed Mitch the study where most of the population had gathered due to her mother’s orders. They watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and in testament to the number of times her family had seen the holiday special, her rellys were able to speak most of the lines with the cartoon characters.

Here we have the entertainment my mom bought to keep everyone quiet and out of her way. As you can see, it’s not working.” She panned the room. The audio could barely be heard by anyone other than the kids in the front, as her brothers and brothers-in-law and their children spoke the lines.

And adlibbed most of them.

Lainy rolled her eyes and kept going. She took him into the kitchen. “Here are the Christmas dinner preparations. As you can see, the meal is very similar to what we ate at Thanksgiving.”

There’s nothing different,” Lainy’s mother inserted and Lainy laughed.

The desserts are.” She panned the dessert table. Snagging another cookie, this one a sugar cookie snowman with lots of frosting, she left the room. Nieces and nephews set the table. Eventually. Arguments broke out on a regular basis and Lainy had to intervene several times.

She showed the older fellows talking in one corner of the living room not taken up with the tables and also the stairwell where others congregated to get out of the way. The bathroom doors had signup sheets, compliments of Ed and Max, for times when you were allowed to use the facilities. Strict penalties were set in place for anyone disregarding those rules. Of course, no one paid any attention to Ed or Max, currently causing more ruckuses in the next room. All of the teenaged nieces’ names took up every slot on the sheet, anyway. “Brothers,” Lainy muttered.

She headed upstairs to find some quiet and discovered that’s where the mothers with babies clustered. Each held a baby to her breast, and Lainy made a mental note to edit that section should there be something taped Mitch wouldn’t care to see or know. Because, of course, the women were talking about baby stuff, and she didn’t believe a Marine would appreciate hearing about baby poop or spit up or nose mucus.

She found more ladies, these older, in another room admiring a quilt her mother had purchased. The next one held a group of college age kids talking about things Lainy didn’t feel she could contribute anything to. They all waved to the camera when they discovered the video would go to Uncles Mitch and Ben.

Miss you,” many of them said.

Lainy ran out to the garage to fetch something for her mother and found more people. Mostly men in her father’s age bracket and above, drooling over a vintage Thunderbird her mother purchased for her dad for Christmas.

The day progressed much like Thanksgiving, so Lainy didn’t record everything. Just those things that would be new to Mitch. She didn’t want to overwhelm him and he only had so much time before returning to the field again.

New Year’s she recorded more good footage of the family party and of sleepy children who’d declared they’d stay awake until midnight. Few of them did. The only ones who seemed alert were her college age nieces and nephews and the teenagers. They all rang in the New Year and she plodded home to bed. Bentley’s New Year’s ribbon as droopy as she.

She’d already sent both the Thanksgiving and Christmas DVDs to Mitch. So, he’d have the Thanksgiving one waiting when he returned to the base. She hoped he’d have the Christmas one by now, too. She sent the video as soon as possible, hoping he’d be able to view it before he’d have to leave again.

Smiling, she thought he’d be back to base soon, so she began checking her e-mail every day, several times a day.

She should hear from him anytime now.