Daddy's Coming Home For Christmas

Chapter Two: Don't You Know About Mistletoe?

Beth

I pulled the chain to lower the ladder to the attic in the old Victorian mansion. It slid down with a thump and a flurry of dust. “Stay down here,” I ordered Lucy, “The floor isn’t safe.” And then I gripped the flashlight with one hand and climbed into the dusty, musty space under the steeply sloping roof.

The attic wasn’t finished, so I had to step carefully on the support beams to keep from falling through the insulation, into the rooms below. I swung the flashlight around and prayed that no spiders would find their way into my hair. At one end, near the chimney, some plywood had been put down to create a storage space, and piles of boxes, old suitcases, chests and broken furniture had been piled haphazardly against the bricks.

Nana Charlie loved Christmas above all else, and I knew there were boxes upon boxes of Christmas decorations buried in this pile, I just had to find one with some fun things that Lucy could put out, and then I could get out of the small, dark space.

I was not a fan of small, dark spaces. Or spiders. I slapped at my face, imagining I felt something crawling up my cheek, and aimed the light at the boxes. Why hadn’t Charlie labeled anything?

I picked up the first box and pried open the flaps, only to find a collection of iced skates. Some ladies’ figure skates, and a bunch more child-sized hockey skates. That might be something to explore later. Maybe I could find some skates in Lucy’s size. I set that one a little aside, and reached for another large box that was wedged between two others.

As I tugged at the weak carton, a small shoebox slid off the pile. As it crashed in a billow of dust and dead bugs, the cover came out, and its contents spilled across the plywood, and I realized the box was full of old photographs. I started scooping them back into a pile, and dumping them in, without looking at the faces in the yellowed pictures. Maybe someday I should go through them with Nana Charlie, so that Lucy could know the names of her ancestors and distant relatives.

Someday when I actually had time.

I picked up the last photograph and flipped it over, shining the flashlight down on the image.

I didn’t need Charlie to tell me who was in the picture. My younger self grinned happily at the camera, while I was securely tucked under the arm of a tall, well-built young man. He had dark, curling hair and laughing honey-colored eyes, and the most adorable dimple carved into his left cheek.

Just like Lucy.

The young man was dressed in a charcoal grey tux, and I was wearing a baby-blue dress with cold shoulders and a long, full skirt. I felt something tug inside my chest as I traced a finger over that dress, remembering how I had painstakingly sewed it together from scraps of fabric I’d been given out of the Townline High School’s Drama Department costume shop. Just so I could have a dress to wear to the Winter Formal Dance.

Officially, I’d gone alone with some girlfriends. I wasn’t allowed to date boys. Unofficially… that was the night that Raphael Segretto had asked me to be his girlfriend.

I’d never really understood why he would choose me, a mere fifteen-year old freshman, and possibly the most weird and awkward girl in the history of the school, when he was a senior. Not just a senior. He was practically a god. A good student, and top-performing athlete, class president, and the first-born son of a very wealthy Italian family.

I thought I was the luckiest girl alive.

Tilting the flashlight, I noticed something in the photo that I hadn’t been aware of when the snap had been taken. Just off in the background, Gabriel was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and a very sour expression on his otherwise handsome face. While Rafe and I smiled happily at the camera, Gabe stared at his brother with an expression of pure hatred.

I’d been such a naive girl back then, I’d never noticed how insanely jealous Gabriel was of his older brother. Why would he be jealous? He was also a superstar in his own right. He also got good grades, was captain of the basketball team, and was well-liked by everyone. He could have had any girl in the school, all he had to do was crook his finger, and they came running.

“You don’t know what you don’t know,” I said out loud as I tucked the picture back into the box and replaced the slightly mangled lid.

There were no pictures of Raphael in the house downstairs, except for the photo that Nana Charlie kept in her nightstand. Gabriel had demanded that they all be taken down and thrown away after we got married, saying it would be too painful and too confusing if I had to look at his brother’s face every day.

At first, I thought it was a considerate gesture.

Later, I realized he had his own selfish motives.

I finally tugged that big box loose and opened the flaps. A whole assortment of Christmas paraphernalia was waiting inside. Satisfied, I held the flashlight in my mouth, and started the balance-beam walk back to the ladder. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, but after some wiggling I was able to back down the narrow steps with the box in hand.

Lucy was still waiting at the bottom, bouncing impatiently. “What took you soooo long? What’s in the box?”

“Wait, wait,” I swatted her little hands away from the box and turned to fold the ladder back up and close the trap door to the attic. “Let’s take it downstairs. Maybe Nana Charlie would like to help."

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Lucy tore off down the curving staircase so fast, it was a wonder she didn’t fall and break her neck. I followed more slowly, balancing the box on my hip. It wasn’t particularly heavy, but the weak cardboard was floppy and awkward. From the sitting room I heard Lucy shout, “Nana! Nana, come put up decorations with us!”

Nana Charlie was sitting in her favorite recliner, a remote-controlled one that could lift her up and dump her out on her feet. She used the television remote with her left hand to shut off the soap operas she'd been watching.

I set the box down on the hearth and allowed Lucy to pull open the flaps. “I’ll grab a dust rag,” I said, as she started pulling out the items. A felt Santa’s boot that was made to hold a jar of candy. A Christmas mailbox with letters to Santa and holly spilling out the open door. A wind-up music box with little skating figurines that moved around a mirror-glass pond. Each and every piece held bitter-sweet memories for me.

Judging by the way Nana Charlie’s eyes were watering, it was hard for her too. After all, she'd lost her husband around Christmastime too, the same season that my own life fell apart.

I went to the kitchen and pulled a dust rag out of the cleaning drawer, and came back to give the decorations a cursory wipe. Just as I set the mailbox out on the side table, Lucy dived in the box and came up with a little dried up bunch of greens tied together with a worn red velvet ribbon. Her little nose wrinkled up as she examined the item. “What is this? I think someone left a dead plant in the box.”

I took the dried greens from her and turned them over in my hands. “It’s mistletoe.”

She tipped her head to the side like a curious bird. "What's a mistletoe?"

**********

“Wait! Don’t move! Look where you are standing!”

I looked around cluelessly. I didn’t know what the big deal was.

“Look up, silly!”

I looked up, and saw a little bunch of green stuff with white berries tied with a red ribbon over the arched entry. “Ummm?” I had no idea what it was or what its significance, but suddenly Rafe was standing very close to me.

“Don’t you know what that is?” He poked a finger into the greenery.

“Um, it’s a pretty decoration?”

He laughed, “It’s mistletoe, silly.”

“Mistletoe?”

“Don’t you know about mistletoe?”

I shook my head. I was having a hard time thinking, let alone speaking with Rafe standing so close to me. There couldn’t be more than a centimeter between our bodies. I could actually feel his body heat radiating off his chest.

“When a couple meets under the mistletoe, they have to kiss. It's tradition.”

Unexpectedly, his arm circled my back, closing that tiny distance, and he looked at me in a way that made my stomach jump.

“You want to kiss me?” I squeaked.

He nodded solemnly. “Would that be okay?”

Would that be okay??? Okay?!? I felt a weird mix of panic and excitement. I’d never kissed a boy. My parents would ground me for eternity if they knew I was even entertaining the thought. And Mama Charlie was right there in the kitchen. I’m sure she could see us. Wouldn’t she be appalled to see her son kissing a girl right in her sitting room?

But yeah, sure, it was perfectly okay! Because I’d been fantasizing about kissing those lips since before I accidentally plowed into him in the hallway at school.

I nodded, even though I had no idea how to kiss. My only frame of reference was a few movies I’d seen.

I stood like a frozen fence post as he dipped his head and pressed his lips against mine. They were warm and dry and surprisingly firm. I thought he would just peck my lips and retreat, but he lingered there for a second or two.

Rafe lifted his head and smiled down at me. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time.”

**********

“Mommy? Are you crying?” Lucy’s childish voice shook me out of my memories.

“No, why would I be crying?” I scrubbed my eyes. “I think it's all this dust making my eyes water. This old thing has seen better days. I think we had better throw it in the trash.”

I started toward the kitchen, but Nana Charlie made a noise of protest. “N..n..no.” She held out a small, bony hand. I walked over to the recliner and put the dried up floral piece in her palm. She reached for the lace handkerchief she always kept in her pocket, and carefully folded the brittle plant in the white fabric.