“The worst was the frozen turkey,” Glen said, and proceeded to describe the finishing touch to his disaster dinner. By the time he was done, Bob and Joy’s other party guests were nearly in hysterics. “I don’t want to be a woman for Christmas ever again,” he concluded.
“You won’t have to be,” Laura assured him, patting his leg. “Just a helpful husband.”
“That I can handle. Man, what a nightmare this all was.”
“You did do okay with the costume for the Christmas pageant at church,” she reminded him.
He rolled his eyes. “Real hard. We were down to one bag.”
Pete gestured to Bob’s disaster tree. “At least you got the tree right, and that’s more than Bob can say.”
Bob pointed a warning finger at him. “No fishing for compliments, Martha Stewart. My tree may not have won any contest, but it makes a statement.”
“I hope you’re not fixing to tell us what it says,” Sharon said in disgust.
Whatever it said, it had been the perfect tree to shelter all the funny white elephant gifts the Stitch ’N Bitchers and their husbands had just finished fighting over.
“Well, I have to admit, I was pretty mad when Kay started this,” said Jack Carter, who was sitting on the Robertson’s couch with an arm around his wife, “but at least I can see now how easy it is to get carried away with shopping.”
“He actually spent more this year than I usually do,” Kay added.
“So there was something for your children under the tree after all?” Joy asked.
Jack made a face. “Like I was going to let my kids come over and find nothing under the tree.” He shook his head at Kay. “Kay exaggerates.”
Kay said nothing. She didn’t need to. Her smug smile and the new bit of bling-bling on her finger said it all. Her cheapskate husband had learned his lesson.
“Hey, any progress on finding the crooks who ran that Web site?” Glen asked Bob.
Bob shook his head. “Not that I know of. Don’t hold your breath about getting any of the merchandise you ordered.”
Glen shrugged. “Oh, well. We made out okay anyway. But, let me tell you, I’m sure glad I’m not in charge of the shopping next year.” Looking at his wife, he quickly added, “But I’m helping with it. I’m helping with everything.”
“It’s almost midnight,” Joy said, passing around the plate with Bob’s bonbons one last time. “Let’s break out the champagne.”
Bob and Glen disappeared into the kitchen to open bottles and Carol helped Joy set out the glasses.
“I wish Jerri could have been here for this,” Carol said.
“Me, too,” said Joy. Wouldn’t she have loved to see Carol in her new, red sweater, smiling across the room at Darren. He was looking at her like she was blond gingerbread, and Joy suspected the new year was going to bring serious romance into Carol’s life. And she hoped it would bring a complete recovery and perfect health to Jerri’s. “Next year she’ll be here.”
A loud pop proclaimed the champagne ready, and everyone gathered around the dining room table while Joy and Carol poured it.
With the glasses filled, they all looked to Bob for a toast.
He cleared his throat. “Well, here’s to our successful negotiations and an end to the strike.”
“Amen to that,” Glen said heartily. “And here’s to Christmas being a lot better next year.”
“And maybe a little messier,” Sharon added, smiling at her husband.
Joy decided her Christmas couldn’t get much better than this one had turned out. Bob had really come through, and for the first time in many years, she had felt like they were a couple at her family’s holiday gathering. It had been the perfect Christmas. And tonight’s party had been perfect, too. Not too many people, which made Bob happy, but plenty of fun, which was all she needed to rev her batteries for the New Year.
Everyone clinked glasses and guzzled champagne; then, shortly after, the party broke up.
“Hey man, great time,” Glen said to Bob as they were leaving.
Bob put an arm around his wife. “We’ll do it again next year.”