A Cozy Mountain Christmas - part 2

The following is part two of a four-part short story, with new editions arriving every Wednesday, finishing on Christmas Eve. In case you missed it, read part one here.

A COZY MOUNTAIN CHRISTMAS

A short story by Jason Haskins

The two vehicles pulled into the driveway of the cabin, feet of snow piled to either side, allowing for a clear path. Two porch lights provided a glow, trees silhouetted above. Griffin and Daisy were quick to exit the truck, while Sterling and Miriam remained firmly entrenched in the SUV. It took only one knock on the driver’s side window by Daisy for the kids to reluctantly exit. The family, comfortably apart, standing alongside one another in a line, stared at the cabin. A minute of silence passed before Sterling mumbled, “Are we going in or what?”

“Yes, dear,” added Daisy, speaking to Griffin, “do we have a plan of attack?”

Griffin continued to mull over the grand questions posed before him. Then, with an assured spirit, he answered. “Yes. Let’s go check out the scope of things. Grandpa said he moved out most of the furniture so we should go explore and see how we want to make this our home.”

Daisy playfully tagged Miriam on her back, sprinting off in hopes of making a game of things with her daughter. For a brief instant, a flash, it appeared Miriam would join in, body lunging forward, a smile on her face. But the daughter’s hesitation, the moment of glee lost, caused her to stray in a lackadaisical approach. Daisy, who reached the door with Griffin, burst inside, only forced to wait for their children to catch up to join them.

Standing in the entry way of the living room, the place was nearly bare, empty spots where a sofa, recliners, and lamps used to live. All taken away by Daisy’s dad to accommodate the furnishings brought by the Gladwin family from their old house. Turning to Daisy, Griffin asked, “Honey, where do we start?”

“How about you and Sterling start with the truck and Miriam and I will locate the ice chest. Get some food in our bellies. We don’t need to unpack everything tonight.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” replied Griffin, “but first: bathroom breaks if needed, and perhaps you,” he said, addressing his children, “can check out your rooms.”

Miriam, quick to retort, “We already know what our rooms look like.”

“But now you can prep them with all your belongings. Really make you feel at home. Go, go,” urged Griffin, doing his best to keep things light on this difficult day.

The four of them, awkward, brimming with false confidence, parted ways. Sterling and Miriam up the stairs to their respective rooms. Daisy barely moved and Griffin ambled outside to the truck.

Sterling did not make it to his bedroom. He stopped to visit the bathroom, where he wanted to snag a couple minutes alone with his cell phone; to disconnect from the world by connecting with the world. Instead, he caught himself staring in the mirror, wondering so many things. Would he find new friends? Did he care to? He was not mad at his parents, not really. He questioned why they could not wait 1.5 years to move, until he done with high school, but he was not mad. Sterling did not want to start over, not now, and continuously thought of ways to get back to the city as soon as possible. Turning on the faucet, warm water hitting cupped hands, Sterling searched his mind for a Christmas miracle to take him away and repair the broken bond of trust.

After parting ways with her brother, Miriam felt the sudden urge to turn around, run down the stairs, and keep running out the front door to give her dad a giant hug. She took one step back down the stairs, paused, and instead went to her bedroom. A rustic room with a full-sized bed layered with blankets and a brown comforter, a white dresser, a lamp, and two little beige nightstands. Smaller than her room in the old house, Miriam wondered where she would find the space for all her belongings. She would make do, she supposed, just like the rest of the family. Glancing below, out the bedroom window at her father opening the truck’s large door in the glow of the porchlights, Miriam hummed White Christmas, smiling despite the sorrow she felt.

Specks of fluffy snow started to fall on Griffin, collecting on his jacket. Staring at the jumbled collection of belongings inside the truck, Griffin, tired, weary, wished it all magically in its rightful place. Daisy was in no rush to unload – he was certain – and to an extent, he agreed. But to do unpacking was the best option. Indecision gripped him, finally letting one thought win: to grab the red plastic tub of Christmas decorations, and tonight, if only they accomplished one thing, to bring a slice of home, and Christmas, to the cabin.

Daisy, after using the downstairs bathroom, had the same idea for bringing forward the Christmas spirit. From a kitchen drawer she pulled out one red and one green candle, each long and untouched, and a lighter. She placed the candles in holders on the fireplace mantle and lit the wick of each. Next, in the hallway closet, Daisy grabbed the Christmas blanket, where the design was a horse pulling a sleigh, with the words LET IT SNOW underneath. She draped the blanket over the top of the couch. Looking around, a nearly empty living room had space to fill. Daisy took note of the perfect corner the Christmas Pine would live for the next two weeks, dreaming of cheer and warm hearts filling the cool air of the cabin’s interior.

***

“Deliveries every Tuesday, meaning the next one will be on Christmas Eve,” said Daisy’s dad, James, to Griffin, the two of them walking through the back room of Chesney’s General Store. “You can choose to open the store on that day – we’ll be closed on Christmas Day for sure - or not, but the supply truck will be here all the same.”

“Okay. Got it,” Griffin quietly replied, soaking in the information that had been dumped on him the last two hours. “Seems all straightforward.”

“Sure enough. Between you and Daisy, the day-to-day operations will be a cinch. The staff, most of ‘em, have been working here for ages. They’ll take care of the front end, no problem. A lot of the back-end work, too, if you let ‘em. We sure do appreciate this.”

The two leave the back room, walking towards the front of the store, weaving past the bustle of customers. “We appreciate you just the same, circumstances aside.”

“Understood.”

James ran his hand through his thick white hair. A slender man nearing seventy, standing six-foot-three inches tall, he hunched slightly while he walked. Sweating, wearing red and white checkered heavy flannel over his brown overalls, James paid little attention to those around him. “So, y’all get settled in okay?”

“Yeah. Mostly. We unloaded about half the truck last night. Daisy and the kids are organizing the house today, maybe unloading more. We will settle down yet.”

The two men stopped near an unoccupied register. “You certainly will. Change is tough but we are built to manage it.”

“Trying to keep the faith but the faces of Sterling and Miriam are nothing but sour.”

“Then you be strong for them. It’s what we do.” James paused, grabbing a mini candy cane from the plastic tub on the counter. “If you need me, don’t hesitate to – well, you have my numbers.”

“Will do. Thanks, pop. Love you.”

James nodded, unwrapped the candy cane, and stuck the long end into his mouth. Griffin smiled and waved goodbye. He needed the dose of optimism James provided, and he hoped he would hold onto the feeling the rest of the day, until he got back to the cabin to join his family.

At the cabin, the feeling was that of an occupied version of a dreary library. Outside, covered in pogonip were shrubbery and trees, cold enough for Daisy to pause the unloading of vehicles, strike up a fire in the fireplace, and sip hot cocoa with her children. The eldest passed on the experience, choosing to fix up his room, leaving Daisy and Miriam by themselves, sitting together under the Christmas blanket, each wearing a maroon cardigan, watching the fire crackle to life.

“You know, after we settle in later this week, we can go visit the Christmas village,” said Daisy, easing into conversation.

“What’s that?” asked Miriam, softly blowing on the cocoa in her mug.

“Come on, you remember, don’t’ you? Don’t you?” cracked Daisy, grinning, playful. Miriam was a perfect mimic of her mom’s actions, shaking her head. “Downtown transforms into a magical place this time of year,” continued Daisy. “Rather, it used to. I guess we will have to find out, since it has been so long.”

“Mom.”

“Right. City Commerce decorated the sidewalks, parking lots, and buildings every year, even creating a roped-off village in one empty lot. Sparkling Christmas lights twinkled everywhere. Wreaths plus silver and gold tinsel adorned streetlights and light poles. Everywhere you looked, curvy candy canes and gigantic gumdrops galore. Snow sculptures, giant fake trees, ice skating, shopping, and Santa. None of this is ringing a bell?”

“Kind of. I remember one time going down a slide made of ice—”

“Yes!” exclaimed Daisy, a little too excited. Composed, she tried again. “Yes. They built this ice slide, next to the ice-skating rink.”

“I do remember ice skating. I wore pink ice skates.”

Daisy stood up, ready to move. “I bet they are around here somewhere. I can find them.”

Miriam reached out, tugged on Daisy’s cardigan. “Mom. Sit down. I didn’t say I wanted to go skating. I just remember them, is all.”

Daisy did her best to hide any disappointment and obeyed Miriam’s command. “Oh. Right.”

Miriam silently acknowledged her mother’s sadness, then tried to redirect her prior response. “The skates probably don’t fit anyhow, or I’d love to go.”

“Please,” Daisy said with a wink, “let’s not rush into anything serious. Maybe we can get your brother to go with us.”

Neither laughed, both knowing even to joke about Sterling going ice skating was too much. Mother and daughter drank cocoa in silence, firewood popping thumps in rapid succession, settling in for a long day inside the cabin.

Trudging through the snow in the woods behind the cabin later that afternoon, Griffin and Sterling were caught up in their own silence. They had been like this for ten minutes and carried on like that for another five more before Griffin shattered the iciness. “Silent treatment or not, we are going to cut down a Christmas tree for the family. Good?”

Bundled up, thick gloved hands holding a handsaw and an axe, Sterling looked at the gray sky, hoping for an intervention of snow that did not arrive. Giving up, he finally responded to his father. “Can we hurry up and pick one already then?”

Undeterred by Sterling’s blasé attitude, Griffin maintained a cheery one. “We are on the hunt for a fresh, full fir to fill the living room. Your mother wants a warm Christmas, and we are going to give her the best one yet.”

Sterling blandly replied, “Whatever Dad.”

That response caused a small breaking point for Griffin, who abruptly stopped, and tarried back. “Hey. I know this is hard for you. I get it. Having your entire life uprooted like this, it is not fun. Trust us. We all know. But son, living here is our new reality. We learn to embrace change, to move on, with a positive, confident spirit to match. If not doing it for me or your mother, do it for your sister.”

“I just— “, Sterling stopped himself, unsure if he wanted to finish the sentence.

“Go on. Speak freely.”

Sterling weighed his dad’s words carefully and decided to continue. “I just don’t see why we must force forward the idea of Christmas this year. We are all upset. I know it is tough to even make it a great Christmas, or even an okay one, on your side of things. I get it. I really do. I just don’t see why we are even trying.”

“To keep hope alive, and to always make the best of our circumstances in life.” Griffin reached out, his own gloved hand pushing down on Sterling’s thick coat to grasp his shoulder. “Come on. I saw a real beauty up ahead.”

Griffin grabbed the axe from Sterling and led the way through untouched snowdrifts to arrive at the perfect tree.