another time. As a
family
.” She lets those last syllables hang in the air for a moment.
Jim’s father, Elliot, comes to the door and announces it’s time to light the menorah. Claudia and Chloe rise dutifully from their chairs and walk to the dining room.
Brenton turns to Leroy, oblivious. “So what else do you know about chocolate, Leroy?” Leroy and Brenton begin to talk chocolate, and I have to nudge them while simultaneously taking Britney’s hand.
“C’mon guys,” I say half-heartedly. “We have to do this, too.”
I lead all three of them toward the adult table, where the others are crowded around a half-lit menorah. It may be Christmas Eve, but it is also the fifth night of Hanukkah. As we stand in the room and listen to the prayers being sung by only six adults in the room, I realize that this, too, is a visual metaphor for my life. A hodgepodge of people, all clustered together, the adults trying to harmonize in a sacred song, the kids refusing to participate, and I’m supposed to set the example when I don’t know the words.
CHAPTER 5
T here’s a certain feeling everyone wakes up with on Christmas morning, and it’s never dread. Usually, you tingle with anticipation, as if the gift you were hoping for will be sitting at the foot of your tree, or, as you get older, outside in the garage. For some people, it’s the serenity of quiet, because lush snow is falling and the house is still, and no one else is up yet. For me, it’s usually the grumble of my stomach because Christmas morning means tons of food, both fresh and leftover, and Mom’s amazing hot chocolate.
But I wake up to the sounds of muffled sobs, not my growling insides. I look down, and Britney is curled in her usual spot between my chest and my arm. Maybe she was talking in her sleep…
I hear the heavy, near hysterical whimpering again, and this time it’s farther away. I look at the clock; 3:30 AM. Did Brenton finally discover that Santa doesn’t exist? Did one the twins tell him just to be mean?
Oh, someone please shoot me.
I look down at Britney again; she’s still asleep. I don’t want to wake her. I pull my arm out from under her head with well-practiced, ninja-like skill. Britney doesn’t stir, so I slide carefully out from beneath the sheets and fumble in the dark to find my t-shirt.
Footsteps pad softly past my door, and the crying sounds like it’s coming from downstairs now. There are voices, too. I soundlessly turn the knob of my door. I look back at Britney and feel bad leaving her. I know if she wakes up in the dark of my room, alone, she’ll freak out, but waking her is much more deterring.
In the hall, I pull the shirt on and listen intently. The voices are muffled, interrupted by sobs and cries that are muffled, too. It sounds like a lot of voices. They’re coming from the family room. I find my way down the steps, each one becoming clearer as the light from downstairs pours through the railing. I know Aunt Darla and Leroy were staying in the guest room in the basement. Could everybody be awake right now?
I pause at the bottom step and find that yes, everyone is up, and there are police officers in the house, dressed in black uniforms, looking somber. Everyone turns to look at me, and I take a step forward.
“Mom?”
“Oh! Jack, honey!” my mom bursts, her face red and swollen, but she’s trying to hide it. “I’m sorry if we woke you!” She hurries to me and hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. I haven’t seen her look like this in a long time, and my guard goes up immediately.
My eyes find Jim. “What’s happening?” I demand, wide awake and anxious.
For the first time since I’ve known him, Jim looks like an old, broken man. His hair looks more white than gray, as does his skin, and the tears he must have already shed are no match for what he starts to release when he says, “There’s been an accident…”
I shrink into myself a little as I watch Jim crumple, and I grab my
family
.” She lets those last syllables hang in the air for a moment.
Jim’s father, Elliot, comes to the door and announces it’s time to light the menorah. Claudia and Chloe rise dutifully from their chairs and walk to the dining room.
Brenton turns to Leroy, oblivious. “So what else do you know about chocolate, Leroy?” Leroy and Brenton begin to talk chocolate, and I have to nudge them while simultaneously taking Britney’s hand.
“C’mon guys,” I say half-heartedly. “We have to do this, too.”
I lead all three of them toward the adult table, where the others are crowded around a half-lit menorah. It may be Christmas Eve, but it is also the fifth night of Hanukkah. As we stand in the room and listen to the prayers being sung by only six adults in the room, I realize that this, too, is a visual metaphor for my life. A hodgepodge of people, all clustered together, the adults trying to harmonize in a sacred song, the kids refusing to participate, and I’m supposed to set the example when I don’t know the words.
CHAPTER 5
T here’s a certain feeling everyone wakes up with on Christmas morning, and it’s never dread. Usually, you tingle with anticipation, as if the gift you were hoping for will be sitting at the foot of your tree, or, as you get older, outside in the garage. For some people, it’s the serenity of quiet, because lush snow is falling and the house is still, and no one else is up yet. For me, it’s usually the grumble of my stomach because Christmas morning means tons of food, both fresh and leftover, and Mom’s amazing hot chocolate.
But I wake up to the sounds of muffled sobs, not my growling insides. I look down, and Britney is curled in her usual spot between my chest and my arm. Maybe she was talking in her sleep…
I hear the heavy, near hysterical whimpering again, and this time it’s farther away. I look at the clock; 3:30 AM. Did Brenton finally discover that Santa doesn’t exist? Did one the twins tell him just to be mean?
Oh, someone please shoot me.
I look down at Britney again; she’s still asleep. I don’t want to wake her. I pull my arm out from under her head with well-practiced, ninja-like skill. Britney doesn’t stir, so I slide carefully out from beneath the sheets and fumble in the dark to find my t-shirt.
Footsteps pad softly past my door, and the crying sounds like it’s coming from downstairs now. There are voices, too. I soundlessly turn the knob of my door. I look back at Britney and feel bad leaving her. I know if she wakes up in the dark of my room, alone, she’ll freak out, but waking her is much more deterring.
In the hall, I pull the shirt on and listen intently. The voices are muffled, interrupted by sobs and cries that are muffled, too. It sounds like a lot of voices. They’re coming from the family room. I find my way down the steps, each one becoming clearer as the light from downstairs pours through the railing. I know Aunt Darla and Leroy were staying in the guest room in the basement. Could everybody be awake right now?
I pause at the bottom step and find that yes, everyone is up, and there are police officers in the house, dressed in black uniforms, looking somber. Everyone turns to look at me, and I take a step forward.
“Mom?”
“Oh! Jack, honey!” my mom bursts, her face red and swollen, but she’s trying to hide it. “I’m sorry if we woke you!” She hurries to me and hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. I haven’t seen her look like this in a long time, and my guard goes up immediately.
My eyes find Jim. “What’s happening?” I demand, wide awake and anxious.
For the first time since I’ve known him, Jim looks like an old, broken man. His hair looks more white than gray, as does his skin, and the tears he must have already shed are no match for what he starts to release when he says, “There’s been an accident…”
I shrink into myself a little as I watch Jim crumple, and I grab my
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