Home for the Holidays

It was one of those cold, crisp days when the sun sparkled in the icy white world and the breath was torn from your lungs in cloudy puffs of white.

Ella was alone, as she often was, usually by choice, but not today.

“Merry Christmas, world,” she said, although there was no one to hear her.

She’d suspected for a while now but the doctors had confirmed it, this would be her last Christmas and then she would be at peace with all those loved ones who had gone before her. And she didn’t mind; she was ready. Except for one thing: her grandson, Eddie. She didn’t want Eddie to be alone in the world, but there was little she could do about it.

She huffed out a quiet laugh, the chuckle clouding the air around her—there was nothing she could do about Eddie. Besides, he was a man grown now, although in her heart of hearts, he was still the adorable little boy with the holes in his jeans, dirt on his face, twigs in his hair and that heart-melting smile that helped him get away with so much.

There’d even been a time when Ella had worried that Eddie would end up on the wrong side of the law, mixing with the wrong crowd. That was around the time that she’d found pot in his bedroom, inexpertly taped to the bottom of a drawer. She hadn’t taken it, hadn’t shouted about it, she’d simply left it where she’d found it with a note saying,

Stupid is as stupid does.

They’d never talked about it, never acknowledged that anything had happened, and she hoped he’d gotten the message.

She’d been disappointed when he chose not to go to college, chose not to use the smarts God had given him for a nice, warm desk job. Her husband, Don—gone these fifteen years now—had farmed all his life, rising before dawn to take care of their small herd of goats, making artisan cheeses and selling them to small shops and at local markets. It had been a hard-working life, back-breaking at times, but a good life, an honest life. Don had wanted Eddie to take over the farm but had died while Eddie was still at high school, and the herd had been sold.

Ella hadn’t wanted that life for Eddie anyway, but the one he’d chosen was harder and a lot less safe than dealing with a few ornery goats. Eddie had gone into the army a boy of eighteen, fresh-faced and ready for adventure, and returned after his first deployment as a grim-faced man.

Ella shook her head at the memory, still sharp in her mind. He’d had many more deployments since then and it seemed likely he’d be a career soldier. She worried about him, but that was a parent’s job.

She tugged her scarf around her head, trying to stop the little knives of cold air that crept through the gaps.

Her breath rattled in her chest as she crunched through the snow, noticing the broken fences but not caring, not really. She had no idea whether or not Eddie would keep the farm after she’d gone. She hoped he would, it was a beautiful, peaceful place. Too quiet, some said; too isolated for an old lady living on her own.

She snorted to herself in amusement. “Yep, you’re an old woman now, Ella. You’re one of the older generation! The mirror doesn’t lie.”

But she’d been young once, so many years ago; young and in love, a baby on the way, and a husband who adored her, and so many hopes and so many dreams. Winter had been her favorite time of year and Christmas her favorite holiday. The nights came early and feathery flakes of snow floated down, covering the world with white. She and Don would take the sledge and go into the wood behind the farmhouse to cut down a tree, then they’d drag it home, filling the house with the scent of fresh pine as they decorated the branches with tinsel and tiny lights.

They’d draped blankets around their shoulders and sat in front of the fire, flames flickering in their eyes as they made slow, patient love.

And later, when their son had been born, the happy squeals before it was light as he opened his presents then came bouncing into their bedroom, chocolate on his sticky hands.

Good times, good memories.

The joy of his marriage to a local girl, the extraordinary excitement of their first and only grandchild. The biting, gutting pain of their sudden and inexplicable loss one summer evening when a police officer had come to the farm with his hat in his hand and bleakness in his eyes. The unbearable silence that had to be borne, had to be endured, for Eddie’s sake.

Watching him grow, fatherless and motherless, but not unloved, never unloved.

She didn’t mind dying, but she was sad to leave Eddie alone in the world. If only she and Don had had more children. But they hadn’t been blessed that way.

She would have loved to see Eddie with his own family, but the boy had a wanderlust and showed no signs of settling down. No woman had held his interest for long, although plenty had tried.

Ella sighed, her eyes clouding with memories, all the loves and losses of a long and purposeful life.

She stared up at the bright blue sky and noticed clouds gathering in the east, promising fresh snow by evening. The track from the farm to the main road would be cut off again, but it didn’t bother Ella. She was well provisioned as thoughtful friends and neighbors had taken her shopping, making sure that she could survive bad weather. Her larder was full and her chest freezer could have fed a whole regiment.

Ella knew that she’d barely make a dent in all that food. She didn’t have much appetite these days.

The first few flakes began to drift down so Ella decided to head home. She’d promised herself that she’d roast a chicken with some potatoes and parsnips, and there was a Christmas pudding boiling on the stove with a sixpence in the middle of it, an old coin from England that her grandmother had brought with as a GI bride. Some traditions were worth keeping alive, and what Ella couldn’t eat, she would freeze, or her neighbors would surely help finish it off by New Year.

She had to pause to catch her breath as she walked down to the farmhouse and it made her impatient with herself, impatient with her body that was increasingly fail and uncooperative.

She plowed on through the snow, her feet growing numb, and she was relieved to make it to her warm and comfortable kitchen, with its enticing aromas and welcoming fire.

As she puttered around the kitchen, a foreign sound made her look up, frowning at the darkening window, and a light flickered in the forest.

She stared out of the window, seeing only her own face reflected in the pane.

“You’re seeing things and hearing things, you daft old bat!” she laughed to herself.

But then she heard it again, the distinctive sound of a diesel engine. She wondered if one of her neighbors was coming to check on her. People around here were kind like that.

Headlights flickered through her kitchen window and she heard a car door slam, followed by a loud rap at her door.

When she opened it, a sharp gust of wind cut through her thin sweater.

“Hey, gran!”

She barely recognized the tall, bearded man who was smiling down at her, his skin darkened by a foreign sun.

“Eddie!” she gasped. “You said you wouldn’t be able to make it home for the holidays!”

“I managed to get leave,” he grinned. “I couldn’t leave my best girl alone at Christmas, could I?”

Ella’s eyes filled with happy tears as he pulled her into a hug, the rough material of his coat cold against her cheek.

“Come in! Come in out of the snow!” she cried, tugging him into the warm kitchen.

The she realized that there was a second person standing behind him.

“Gran, I want you to meet Virginia Petersen.”

“Hello, Mrs. Laski. It’s lovely to meet you. And please call my Ginny. Eddie has told me so much about you.”

Ella blinked up at the tall, self-possessed young woman with auburn hair and bright blue eyes who smiled down at her. Then she glanced across to Eddie who was grinning broadly and threw her a wink.

“A pleasure to meet you, Ginny. Come in and get warm. I can’t believe you made it through the snow—they say half a foot has fallen already.”

“More than that,” said Eddie, as Ella took Ginny’s coat. “It’s a complete whiteout.”

“I don’t know how Eddie found his way,” Ginny said, warming her hands at the fire and looking about the farmhouse with a smile on her face.

“I could find my way here with a blindfold on,” Eddie grinned. “How are you, Gran?”

“All the better for seeing you,” she said truthfully. “And you’re right on time for supper. Let me just hang up these coats.”

Eddie followed her out to the coatrack in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” she admonished gently.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he grinned.

“And not a word about your young lady,” she scalded with a smile. “She seems quite lovely.”

His eyes turned toward the kitchen. “She is. I’m going to ask her to marry me, Gran. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

Ella’s eyebrows shot up. “Edward John Laski! Are you seriously telling me that I know before her?”

He shrugged, an impish smile on his face. “Had to let my best girl know first.” His smile softened. “She’s wonderful, Gran. I love her.”

Ella’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m so happy, darling boy. So very happy for you both. And it’s the best Christmas present ever. Thank you!”

He pulled her into a gentle hug. “I love you, Gran. Thanks for always being here for me.”

Ella held her breath, willing the tears away before she spoke again.

“Come on,” she said at last. “You must be hungry.”

“Always!” he laughed. “Especially for your cooking.” He lowered his voice confidentially. “Ginny can’t cook to save her life!”

“Oh dear!” Ella laughed. “I’ll have to see if I can teach her a few things.”

And they walked back into the kitchen, arm in arm.

 

THE END