Peace on Earth

Carly eagerly threw the last couple of items into her suitcase, humming merrily to herself as she scanned her packing list.

“Let’s see, passport, phone, bikini, sun block, yep. All done. Horace, get out of there. I don’t need my clothes all covered in cat hair.”

Horace landed on the floor with a thud as she tipped him out of her case. He stalked off, his tail twitching indignantly. Carly laughed as she zipped the case shut and headed downstairs, bumping the case behind her. She stopped in her tracks as she saw her father sitting at the kitchen counter in his robe and pajamas sipping coffee.

“Dad, what are you doing? Look at the time. You said you’d take me to the airport. We should be leaving now.”

Her father yawned and laughed.

“You didn’t check the weather, I guess. Look outside. No one’s going anywhere.”

Carly rushed to the window and peered outside, puzzled. Dawn had not yet broken, but the yard was bathed in a weird white light. The car, shrubs and mailbox had been transformed into piles of white marshmallow. Snowflakes were falling so thickly that she could not see the end of the driveway. She groaned, clenching her fists.

“You’re stuck with us for Christmas, I suppose. It’s a good thing we picked Grandma up yesterday,” said her father, pouring himself more coffee. “It won’t kill you. Mom has enough food for an army as usual, so we should be fine. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire and all that stuff. If it’s any consolation to you, everyone is in the same predicament.”

Ignoring him, Carly grabbed her phone and began scrolling frantically.

She dialed, pacing the floor. Her father watched silently.

“Rod? Hey. Can you come and get me? Our car’s snowed in, but the airport’s still open. Yeah, I checked. Okay…I’m ready.”

She pulled her jacket on and put her phone in her pocket.

“How does Rod think he’s going to make it to the airport?”

“He’s got one of those big four-wheel drive, off-road things.”

“So, he’s another one who’d rather not spend time with his family at Christmas. Is it so terrible to be at home with us?”

Carly flushed.

“Dad, please don’t guilt trip me. The last couple of years I’ve just had the chance to do other things that are more...”

She broke off.

“Fun than spending Christmas here?” said her father, raising an eyebrow.

Carly paced the floor, took a deep breath and faced him.

“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. That’s why I come home a few days early for family time. But at Christmas, it all falls apart. Mom gets totally stressed out and starts complaining about how she does all the work, but if I offer to help, I never do anything right. Then Grandma tells her how to cook and they start fighting. You disappear into your mancave, and Uncle Ralph and Aunt Betty show up. He’s half-loaded already and starts telling disgusting jokes. That man is a Neanderthal. Poor Aunt Betty trails along behind like a wet hen, totally mortified. Cousin Joanie spends all her time on her phone, biting her nails. By the time dinner’s ready, everyone’s nerves are shot. Then old Mr. Camden arrives and starts on at Joanie and me about how useless the younger generation is and rants about how the country is going to the dogs...not like his generation didn’t create the mess we’re living in now…I can’t take it anymore.”

She paused for breath, just as the beam of headlights pierced the darkness outside.

“You’ll enjoy yourselves more without me anyway. Remember the all the arguments? Hardly peace on earth and goodwill to men.”

She pulled her hood up, kissed her father, grabbed her case and headed outside, gasping as the chilly air hit her face.

“Call when you get to the airport,” her father yelled after her. She waved as she clambered into the vehicle. He watched as the headlights vanished into the whirling snow. The kitchen door opened.

“Hi, Helen,” he said. “Want some coffee?”

Carly’s mother rushed over to the window, narrowly avoiding Horace who arched his back and hissed.

“Frank, I thought I heard a car. Who’s crazy enough to drive in this? Where’s Carly?”

He indicated the road.

“She and Rod are bound and determined to get to the airport.”

Helen whirled around.

“How could you let her go?”

Frank shrugged.

“Short of chaining her to the kitchen table, I couldn’t stop her. Rod is driving what looks like a tank, so they’re as safe as they can be in the circumstances. If the flights are cancelled, they’ll be back with their tails between their legs.”

Helen accepted a mug of coffee and shook her head.

“I understand wanting some sea and sand, but not at Christmas. Why doesn’t she want to be with the family? She’s so inconsiderate.”

“Ah, as for that…”

Frank recounted Carly’s litany of complaints.

“And the worst part is that I think she’s right. She can never do anything right to help you and you and your mother always squabble in the kitchen.”

Helen glared.

“She’s right about you too. You don't offer to help or tell your obnoxious brother to lay off with the offensive jokes. You disappear into your den and show up to eat. I know Mr. Camden would be on his own if we didn’t invite him, but he’s such an old curmudgeon that it’s hardly surprising. He's not fun company.”

Frank held up his hands.

“Whoa. I was coming to that. I’ve been taking the coward’s way out. Can we do things differently this year?”

Helen, having drawn breath to launch into a speech, stopped in confusion. She peered at him suspiciously.

“Like what?”

He grinned.

“I will help you in the kitchen, though please promise not to bite my head off if I don’t do everything right the first time. We will keep your mother out of the way by distracting her with eggnog and one of those sappy Hallmark Christmas movies that I can’t stand.”

Helen stared in disbelief.

“Hallmark movies? That is quite a sacrifice on your part, but before you get too smug, what about Ralph and Mr. Camden?”

“I will intercept them when they arrive. Ralph will be told that his so-called jokes will not be tolerated, and Mr. Camden will be told that politics are off the table.”

Helen looked dubious.

“They’re going to be offended.”

“They can take it or leave it,” he said. “We need some new Christmas traditions around here.”

Helen smiled. As she embraced him, a beam of light flashed in the driveway. Frank rushed to open the door.

“Hah. I knew those flights would be cancelled. They’re back.”

He turned the porch light on and frowned.

“Wait, what’s going on? Something’s not right.”

He hastily pulled on his boots and coat. Helen peered anxiously after him as he rushed outside.

“We need help, Dad,” Carly yelled. “It’s Mr. Camden.”

Frank and Rod slipped and stumbled up the porch steps, half-carrying the old man who was shivering violently. Carly followed, holding a wriggling little dog.

“We passed his house and saw him lying in his driveway. He’d fallen when he took the dog out. He says he’s okay, but he’s soaked, and he lost his key in the snow. We thought it was best to bring him back here.”

“Carly, run upstairs and get some of Dad’s clothes,” Helen said, taking the dog’s leash. “Frank, you and Rod go into the living room and get him dried and changed. I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

Half an hour later, Mr. Camden, swathed in borrowed clothes and a blanket, was sitting in front of the fire, his dog at his feet.

“I’m sorry to cause all this trouble,” he said. “But I’m grateful to you. So is Patch here. He’s an old-timer like me. He wouldn’t have survived the cold for long.”

The dog raised his head and wagged his tail. Horace, safely perched on the back of an armchair, glowered at him.

“Here,” said Helen, distributing mugs of hot chocolate all around. “It’s a good thing your flight was cancelled.”

“Um, it hasn't been cancelled that we know of, Mom,” said Carly. "Not so far, anyway."

“So, you saw Mr. Camden on your way to the airport, not coming back?” said Frank.

Rod nodded.

“Yes, I’m glad we did. There’s hardly any traffic about. I don’t know how long he’d have been lying there.”

Mr. Camden frowned.

“You mean you missed a trip because of me? I’m not going to say nothing bad about you young folks again,” said Mr. Camden, his eyes suspiciously moist.

“No big deal,” said Carly. “We couldn’t leave you out there to turn into a popsicle, and the flight would probably have been cancelled by the time we got to the airport. You guys win. You get me here for Christmas after all.”

“Rod, you’re welcome to join us,” said Frank.

“That would be nice,” Rod said. “My folks are divorced and can’t stand each other. I’ve taken to making my own Christmas plans to avoid the drama about who I should visit. I don’t think I’ve ever had a normal family Christmas.”

Helen, Frank and Carly glanced at each other.

“I don’t know about normal, but I hope you’re all going to be pleasantly surprised,” said Helen. “We’re doing things a little differently this year. Everyone’s going to be on their best behavior, including us.”

“I hear you. Me too,” said Mr. Camden. “Ain’t that right, Patch?”