You are probably old
enough to know not to watch the garbage, right, Hannah?” Grace
kissed Hannah on her forehead. “Don’t watch the junk. Only the good
stuff.”
Then to no one in
particular, Grace said, “The world needs more good
stuff.”
“I need more good stuff,”
Annie said. She put a dish in the microwave. “All this extra
holiday prep and end-of-the-year tasks just add stress. It kind of
takes the joy out of the holidays.”
“But Christmas is so fun,
Mom!” Hannah said, adjusting a paper gorilla in her
diorama.
Carter came into the
kitchen and petted Angel next to Hannah.
“Christmas day is fun,”
Annie said. “But there’s extra work for me at my job this time of
the year. Getting ready for Christmas means shopping for presents,
mailing cards, parties, and decorating — in addition to everything we
already do.” Annie sighed and looked down. “Then we just try to get
some sleep to do it all again the next day. I just wish I had five
more hours in my day. But unfortunately, there are no more miracles
in our world.”
Carter looked up. “No more
miracles?!” he said. “Mom, you told me miracles are everywhere.” He
pursed his lips together and squinted.
Grace gave Annie’s arm a
squeeze. “You’re tired,” Grace said, “and I wish I could do more to
help.”
“I can help,” Carter said.
“I’m hungry! I can cook. We made pretzel snacks at
school.”
“You do help,” Annie said
to Grace, trying not to let her youngest get her sidetracked. “You
have come a long way with physical therapy and your walks around
the block. I’m not complaining about you, or anyone. I just have
too much going on right now.”
“Go back to my advice,”
Grace continued to Annie. “Think positively! The extra work will
only get to you if you let it.”
“You’re right,” Annie said,
massaging her forehead. “You’re right. I just need to … remember
the reason for the season. And yes, I’m tired.”
Annie remembered not being
tired. Way, way, back, there was a time when she was … fun. Was
that the right word? There was definitely a memory there of being
fun and having fun. The memory was hazy and nonspecific,
though — like the
faded scent of cheap cologne clinging to clothes the day after
wearing them.
At the sink, Annie washed
her hands while she listened to Grace directing Carter in setting
condiments on the table and to Hannah singing the chorus of a pop
song Annie didn’t know. Her fingers rubbed the sapphire ring on her
left hand, passed down from her mother’s mother before she died.
The sapphire ring rested in place of Annie’s wedding and engagement
rings, which had been lost when she was pregnant with Carter. Annie
still winced whenever she thought about how she had taken off the
gold and diamond rings Lon had given her because her fingers were
becoming too swollen in late pregnancy, and the jewelry had gotten
misplaced. Annie didn’t realize the rings were lost until after
Carter was born. She and Lon looked for them off and on for months,
but taking care of the children eclipsed the effort to find the
jewelry. One day, Annie decided to slip her grandmother’s sapphire
on her ring finger, an acknowledgement that she had given up on
finding Lon’s rings. Neither she nor Lon had talked about the
missing jewelry again.
Annie thought back to when
she had first seen the engagement ring, when Lon asked her to marry
him. They had spent the day together, then gone to the beach in the
afternoon. Annie remembered how the sunshine brought out the gold
in Lon’s hazel eyes so that they seemed to glow. Annie and Lon sat
on the sand to watch the sun set. After the sun disappeared beyond
the gulf, Lon took her hand and kissed her. He slipped the white
gold and diamond ring on her finger and simply said, “Marry me.”
(Lon’s version of the story was that he was too nervous to say
anything at all.) Annie was dazzled by the
enough to know not to watch the garbage, right, Hannah?” Grace
kissed Hannah on her forehead. “Don’t watch the junk. Only the good
stuff.”
Then to no one in
particular, Grace said, “The world needs more good
stuff.”
“I need more good stuff,”
Annie said. She put a dish in the microwave. “All this extra
holiday prep and end-of-the-year tasks just add stress. It kind of
takes the joy out of the holidays.”
“But Christmas is so fun,
Mom!” Hannah said, adjusting a paper gorilla in her
diorama.
Carter came into the
kitchen and petted Angel next to Hannah.
“Christmas day is fun,”
Annie said. “But there’s extra work for me at my job this time of
the year. Getting ready for Christmas means shopping for presents,
mailing cards, parties, and decorating — in addition to everything we
already do.” Annie sighed and looked down. “Then we just try to get
some sleep to do it all again the next day. I just wish I had five
more hours in my day. But unfortunately, there are no more miracles
in our world.”
Carter looked up. “No more
miracles?!” he said. “Mom, you told me miracles are everywhere.” He
pursed his lips together and squinted.
Grace gave Annie’s arm a
squeeze. “You’re tired,” Grace said, “and I wish I could do more to
help.”
“I can help,” Carter said.
“I’m hungry! I can cook. We made pretzel snacks at
school.”
“You do help,” Annie said
to Grace, trying not to let her youngest get her sidetracked. “You
have come a long way with physical therapy and your walks around
the block. I’m not complaining about you, or anyone. I just have
too much going on right now.”
“Go back to my advice,”
Grace continued to Annie. “Think positively! The extra work will
only get to you if you let it.”
“You’re right,” Annie said,
massaging her forehead. “You’re right. I just need to … remember
the reason for the season. And yes, I’m tired.”
Annie remembered not being
tired. Way, way, back, there was a time when she was … fun. Was
that the right word? There was definitely a memory there of being
fun and having fun. The memory was hazy and nonspecific,
though — like the
faded scent of cheap cologne clinging to clothes the day after
wearing them.
At the sink, Annie washed
her hands while she listened to Grace directing Carter in setting
condiments on the table and to Hannah singing the chorus of a pop
song Annie didn’t know. Her fingers rubbed the sapphire ring on her
left hand, passed down from her mother’s mother before she died.
The sapphire ring rested in place of Annie’s wedding and engagement
rings, which had been lost when she was pregnant with Carter. Annie
still winced whenever she thought about how she had taken off the
gold and diamond rings Lon had given her because her fingers were
becoming too swollen in late pregnancy, and the jewelry had gotten
misplaced. Annie didn’t realize the rings were lost until after
Carter was born. She and Lon looked for them off and on for months,
but taking care of the children eclipsed the effort to find the
jewelry. One day, Annie decided to slip her grandmother’s sapphire
on her ring finger, an acknowledgement that she had given up on
finding Lon’s rings. Neither she nor Lon had talked about the
missing jewelry again.
Annie thought back to when
she had first seen the engagement ring, when Lon asked her to marry
him. They had spent the day together, then gone to the beach in the
afternoon. Annie remembered how the sunshine brought out the gold
in Lon’s hazel eyes so that they seemed to glow. Annie and Lon sat
on the sand to watch the sun set. After the sun disappeared beyond
the gulf, Lon took her hand and kissed her. He slipped the white
gold and diamond ring on her finger and simply said, “Marry me.”
(Lon’s version of the story was that he was too nervous to say
anything at all.) Annie was dazzled by the
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