Page 102 of When There Was You
Liz mock-glares at her mother. “For once, I agree with you, big brother.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Jerri scoots her chair from the table and stands. “I don’t play favorites. I love you all equally.”
Gus snags her hand in his. “But me the most. Right, honey?”
She lowers her face to his and kisses him gently. “Maybe.”
Everyone guffaws.
“What about you, Dan?” I ask.
“I got it one year, but it’s so cutthroat, I was constantly watching my back, you know? Frankly, I don’t need the stress.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now I just try flying under the radar and doing what I’m told.”
More cackling, except from his wife. “Really? Strange. I still don’t have the flower beds I asked you to makethree years ago.”
He sighs loudly and narrows his eyes at me. “Thanks for helping me stay out of the spotlight,Jacqui.”
“My pleasure,” I answer with a toothy grin.
“I don’t know why we bother trying to sway Mom.” Butch squeezes my thigh affectionately. “Jacqui’s a shoo-in this year.”
“Yup,” his sister agrees. “She’s a first timer. Although I could argue I’m more deserving as a beleaguered parent of two hellions.”
“So am I,” Gus says, causing more laughter.
“The decision’s already been made,” Jerri quips, returning to the table. “You’ll just have to wait to find out who it is. Now quit your bellyaching and help clean up.”
We all pitch in before reconvening in the living room. Butch and I claim one end of a sofa, and his arm wraps around my shoulders. The children tear excitedly into their tissue-wrapped gifts then scamper off to don their pjs. Jerri distributes the reading material. Many are Little Golden Books, and I’m offered one to read. I selectThe Littlest Angel, which I’ve never seen.
Butch taps the vintage cover. “That’s one of my favorites.”
The kids thunder back into the room and flop downin various places, and the readings begin.How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The Biggest, Most Beautiful Christmas Tree.A new addition calledThe Polar Express.
When it’s my turn, Emmy crawls between her father and me, making a shared lap so she can see the illustrations.
The Littlest Angelturns out to be a surprisingly meaningful story about angels and earth, not fitting in but eventually finding your heaven, and the night Jesus was born. Parts of it are so touching that I’m forced to pause when my voice wavers.
As the family patriarch, Gus reads the grand finale,The Night Before Christmas. Even my father read this to me, without fail, every Christmas Eve of my formative years.
We all applaud when he finishes.
The room falls silent as Jerri unearths the baby Jesus, holding him reverently in the air for all to see. “The honor this year goes to…” She pauses, clearly for dramatic effect. “Jacqui.”
Oh…wow.
“Called it,” Butch says.
Liz rolls her eyes. “So predictable.”
“Not fair!” Kayla pouts.
“Don’t be a brat,” her brother Trevor scolds, even though he’s only seven.
I stand and meet Jerri’s warm gaze as she places the tiny ceramic figure into my hand.“Thank you,”I say, wondering if I should give it to Kayla.
She smiles sweetly and guides me to the Nativity scene, pressing close to whisper, “Don’t eventhinkof giving the babe to anyone else or allowing them to guilt you into it. This is tradition, and they’ve all had plenty of turns.”
The rustic stable is nearly as big as those popular microwave ovens, with painted figurines and animals huddled around a little wooden manger, empty save for a small scrap of material mimicking a blanket.
