Christmas at Grandpa's

      Macie Bergman’s long black hair stuck to her face as the sweat dripped from her forehead. It was a hot summer afternoon despite the rain, and Covid regulations still disallowed the use of air-conditioning. Some shops chose to disregard this rule entirely, but not this one. Furthermore, the store was packed with people like her, doing last minute shopping on this stormy Saturday afternoon, all contributing to the sweltering heat they found themselves in.

           These circumstances did not make the most patient of people. Herself included.

           She’d grown used to the isolation over the past two years. Covid had seemed never-ending, and she had fought hard against accepting the “new normal” every step of the way, from the children not going to school, to online shopping, but in the end, after two years, it was impossible to not grow used to how things worked. Maybe she even started to prefer it that way.

For one, she didn’t have to buy gifts for the entire family. Everyone’s households celebrated on their own, and while she did what she could to make Christmas a reality for the boys, the financial burden had been easier in December of 2020 and 2021, because all she had to worry about were a pair of identical fire-trucks, and a couple of off-brand Lego builds (who can afford the real things nowadays? And her sons, then seven, couldn’t really tell the difference anyway.), respectively.

           This year, however, the “new -normal” suddenly started fading away, and before she knew it, Christmas was to be at Grandma’s. Suddenly she had to buy gifts for just about everyone, and really, she hadn’t even thought about what she was going to get Jason and Kyle, let alone her parents or her brothers or her brothers’ children.

           Boy, was she glad she wasn’t married anymore! The day after tomorrow, she was going to have a moment of peace, as she was sending the boys to her father. At least she didn’t have to buy gifts for his entire family as well.

           It could be said that she was receiving a moment of peace now, given the boys were at their grandparents, if it wasn’t for the main objective of shopping in the sweltering heat which had encompassed the entire day, making sure to remind her that she was spending Christmas Eve in the southern hemisphere, despite dreams of going north, seeing snow.

           There were lines to get into the aisles, it was ridiculous! How was it that so many people only did their shopping now? One would think they would be with their families on this Merry day, not out here clogging up the bulk store.

           Mariah Carey pumped out of the speakers from the roof like an anthem. Hmph. Christmas for the corporations, maybe. The rest of us have to suffer financial ruin.

           ***

           Her parents’ house was huge compared to her two-bedroom apartment. She knew it was a big reason why the boys loved to come here. The garden was massive to their little eyes, and they could run from one side to the other without knocking things over or “making Mom angry”. Right now, her dad and brothers were watching over them from the patio, and her dad was probably reading the weekend paper, or maybe by now he had taken out his pack of cards to play solitaire. When the boys were super young, before Covid, he had even learnt a couple of card tricks to entertain them. She wasn’t even sure if they remembered that anymore. “Seeing grandpa” had really taken a turn for the worst the last two years, with him being in and out of hospital with every new strain. How many times had they said goodbye just in case?

           He was here now though; she could see them through the window. Grandpa, and both her brothers, Brian and Frederick, were sitting around the round table, spaces between them for when the women return, the latter two on their phones, maybe texting, maybe playing games, maybe browsing the Pinterest. She didn’t really know what men do on their phones. Her ex used to have a Pinterest addiction. Maybe they were reading the news, just like Grandpa, except they didn’t pretend it was the 1980s.

           Herself, her mother, and Sandra, who is Brian’s wife, were all in the kitchen. Macie was peeling potatoes, before she was going to cut them into slices and prepare her specialty, a potato-bake recipe ripped off of the potato-bake sachet.

           Her mother was making butternut salad, one with big raw spinach leaves and feta-cheese, and roasted almonds on top. Everyone secretly hated it. Macie didn’t understand why anyone would want to make a healthy salad during family gatherings, but she didn’t have it in her to convey this to her mother. If anything, the food should be fattening and create some padding for the alcohol-induced messes they’ll all turn into after the children have gone to bed.

           But her mother didn’t drink, so maybe there was reason to her strange choices, just not ones anyone else understood.

           Sandra, however, already had a glass of wine in hand, and was complaining quite stridently about little Peter, her son. He was four now, and ran amuck. If she’d learnt to parent her kid, maybe things would be different, just like if she’d give the wine a rest, but really, Macie should know not to expect much different from her little brother’s life choices.

           She couldn’t say much though, as the divorced woman of the family. It’s not like her ex-husband was much better.

           Well, to be perfectly honest, he was a good man. They had just realised that they wanted very different things from life, regrettably not until they’d had the twins. He was a good father to her children through, much as he wasn’t a good husband, and for that she was grateful. He could have left them to fend for themselves. She couldn’t imagine raising the boys completely on her own.

           Shelly, Frederick’s fiancé, was in the spare bedroom, breastfeeding. They had only had the little one a couple months ago. Macie was fond of the new-born, who was the first girl to be born into the family since herself. She was going to be very spoiled growing up.

           Later, when everyone had stuffed themselves silly, and the only dish left was mom’s butternut salad, untouched but for the tiny scoops that everyone had dished up to make it seem like they wanted some, it was presents time.

           She hoped that little Peter liked the coat she got him. It had cost her most of her sanity to obtain it in yesterday’s crowd.

           Macie watched her boys opening their gift with a slight anticipation, and a little nervousness too. This was what they wanted, but 8-year-olds tend to be fickle. She’d gotten them both big remote-control trucks. They had seen ones similar to this on television. These were quite a bit cheaper than those, but the boys wouldn’t know that, so they should do the trick.

           She handed them the wrapped gifts, gently saying, “Now remember, these are from Grandpa and Grandma as well, so be sure to thank them after you open them.”

           As the boys tore into the paper she had so perfectly wrapped around the big boxes, smiles broke out. They had figured out what it was.

           “Thanks Mom!” Jason yelled, remembering his manners, and jumped up from where he was seated on the floor to give his mom a hug, and Kyle soon followed, echoing a “thanks mom!” as he also jumped up and raced to her.

“Say thanks to Grandma and Grandpa as well.” She reminded them, and the chorus of “thanks Grandpa, thanks Grandma!” broke out.

           A smile broke out on Macie’s face, echoing theirs. What was she thinking? Of course they’d love it!

           “Can we race them?” Jason asked.

Macie replied, “I’m sure Grandpa will help you set them up outside in the driveway, maybe?” she looked at her father for confirmation and he nodded. “And remember to give Peter a go as well.”

           “Ah, why?” Jason exclaimed, and she reminded herself that empathy is learnt. It’s a trick she’d learnt in couple’s therapy with her ex-husband, when they were having a lot of trouble co-parenting.

           “Because Peter is your cousin. You just have to let him have a go a couple of times, baby, I’m sure Peter has his own toys to play with as well, but imagine if Kyle and Peter had both gotten trucks, and you couldn’t even play with them once.”

           “Oh.”

           “Now let’s finish opening the gifts, and then we can see about making a racetrack out of the driveway.”

           As their attention turned back to the gifts, Macie looked around the room at her family. Grandpa was here, her boys were happy, and just maybe, that meant she was happy too.