Alex stood in the predawn darkness of his driveway, the only light coming from the open tailgate of his red jeep. ‘How many times are you going to make sure you’ve got everything?’ he asked himself, but ran through his checklist once more anyway. He knew all the Christmas presents were there, along with his suitcase, laptop and briefcase, but, anxious as he was to get on the road, he was vapor-locked by the nagging suspicion that he had forgotten something - after all, he couldn’t just hop in the car and drive back a six-hundred miles. Attributing his sputtering mind to having risen at five in the morning, he closed the tailgate and went back into the house.
Alex went into the kitchen, filled his travel mug with fresh coffee, making it light and sweet, and cleaned up the remnants from breakfast. He grabbed his coffee and car keys from the counter, locked the house and got into the car. After starting the engine, he took a quick look at the passenger seat – smokes, gum and a Snickers bar; everything a man could need for a long solo drive. Well, that, and coffee. He fired up the CD player on all disc/random. The changer was loaded with five discs he had burned expressly for the trip, an esoteric mix of jazz, soul and rock, but all up-tempo to keep him rolling down the road. In deference to the season, a disc containing Christmas music had been a last minute addition.
Alex had been anticipating this trip for over a month, ever since his mother had insisted that he come home for an extended traditional family Christmas.
Obviously she had planned her speech when she called, “After all, Doug and your sister, are bringing their two kids all the way from Ohio. I’m having all the relatives for Christmas dinner. It looks like there should be about fifteen of us. Just one more thing. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay at The Old Mill Inn instead of here, I’ve already promised your sister the bedrooms. Don’t worry. We’ll pay for the hotel.”
“Mom, you don’t have to pay for the room. I can certainly afford a couple of nights in a hotel.”
“Oh no, you won’t! Stay through New Year’s, instead of the quick visits you’ve made since moving to Virginia. Your father and I see so little of you anymore.”
There had been no point in arguing; her mind was made up. ‘Shit, I hate New Year’s’ he had thought, as the tumultuous break-up with Kim three years ago crashed into his mind. That’s why Alex had moved to Virginia, hoping a new job and new scenery would expunge the pain. It had worked, in part – Alex enjoyed his new job and had managed to make new friends, but he had not had a serious relationship since and every New Year’s had been a lonesome, melancholy affair.
“Alex, are you listening to me?” said his mother, slapping him back to reality.
“Yes, I’m listening, but I was thinking. That’s an awfully long time,” he said, trying to find an excuse to avoid New Year’s. “I had been planning to get away for awhile, maybe go skiing...”
“You can go skiing anytime. Besides you could catch up with some of your old friends. And you won’t have your family forever.”
‘Great, a family Christmas guilt trip. No way out of this one.’
“Okay, mom, I’ll stay the week.”
“Lovely, now when will you be arriving? So I can make the reservation right away…”
As time passed, Alex grew more receptive to the visit. The last he’d heard, Kim had married and moved away. Renewing acquaintances should be fun; hopefully, his friends would forgive his self-imposed exile. Although he loved his mother dearly, by staying in a hotel, he might avoid too much quality time with her pushing him to get married and give her more grandchildren. Doug, his bother-in-law, was downright funny, and a gathering of the clan was always a good time, provided it was kept to just a day. More than that, and his aunts got their claws out. His nephews were just the right ages, five and seven, so that Christmas was a wondrous, magical event. Now that some serious snow was in the forecast, Alex was giddy with anticipation. Since the storm was coming from the northwest, he’d be driving into it, so he hoped to arrive at to his parents’ house before too much snow accumulated.
Around three in afternoon, Alex was only seventy miles from home when he saw the first flakes. Initially, they were small and provided no hazard - the wind and traffic swept them from the road. As he gained altitude, the snowfall increased dramatically. Within half an hour, there was an inch of dirty slush on the road that periodically erupted from the tires of semis, blinding him until the groaning wipers could push the dense grey mass aside. Perry Como’s rendition of
Let It Snow
was a cruel joke. “Shut up you hack,” Alex shouted as punched a button on the stereo and turned off the music to concentrate on his diving. Six cigarettes, several prayers to Our Lady of All-Wheel Dive, and ninety minutes later, Alex’s exit mercifully appeared.
“Thank god,” Alex said to himself as he eased onto the ramp and out of the frigid quagmire of the interstate. The hotel was just across the overpass, so as quickly as he could, he parked, pried his fingers from the steering wheel, checked in, and started unpacking. The hotel had recently been renovated and his room was typical for a moderate hotel. A king-sized bed dominated the space, flanked by the bathroom on the side nearest the door, with a desk, coffee table and two uncomfortable looking chairs squeezed into the space nearest the window. An armoire opposite the foot of the bed housed a television in its upper half, with drawers for clothes in the lower. The only significant open space was near the entrance as a concession to the physics of operating the main door and the closet that opposed it. The cramped quarters did not bother Alex. The room was clean and he did not anticipate spending much time in it awake.
Realizing his mother had probably conjured up images of him in a dreadful accident, he called her. She was greatly relieved that he was safe and at the hotel. He would be over as soon as he took a shower and changed.
Shortly, he was headed down the narrow road that wound through a bird sanctuary and led to his parents’ house. He drove slowly – relaxed from the shower and the contrast in driving conditions. The staccato of road spray had been replaced by the low hum of the engine as the tires moved silently through the snow. He had forgotten how beautiful the area could be as the headlamps illuminated the descending flakes, which blew against the trees abutting the road, forming half-pipes on their trunks. Alex turned the stereo on. ‘Okay, Perry, now you can sing.’
Ten minutes later, he pulled into the drive, killed the engine and lights, but did not immediately exit the car. Rather, he contentedly gazed at the snow falling about the familiar white two-story colonial. Until moving to Virginia, it was the only home Alex had ever known. An illuminated Christmas tree warmly beckoned from behind the picture window of the otherwise darkened living room at the far end of the house. At the near end, he could see his family had witnessed his arrival, rising from their chairs in the den that flanked the front door, which presently flew open and issued forth his nephews. Smiling broadly, clad only pajamas and snow boots, they shouted “Uncle Alex! Uncle Alex!” Alex’s sister Nancy was close on their heels, vainly attempting to get the boys back in the house. Yes, Alex thought, it was good to be home, and felt foolish for his initial reluctance to return.
Alex exited the car and, after hugging his sister, helped shepherd the boys back into the house. Once inside, the remainder of his family greeted Alex loudly. His father, bless him, presented a short, neat single malt as the group moved to the family room. There, the warmth of the fireplace and the whisky chased away the chill of the night.
The evening passed quickly, as everyone caught up on each other’s lives over dinks and dinner; all the while, the boys ricocheted about in uncontrollable excitement. By nine, Alex was whipped and bid everyone goodnight. He did not envy his sister’s task of getting his nephews to bed and was glad for the quiet the hotel would provide.
*****
Alex enjoyed himself immensely for the next few days. He slept late into the morning of Christmas Eve, spending the balance of the day with only his parents and sister’s family. However, Alex and Doug did a commendable job exhausting themselves and the boys playing outside, building snowmen, sledding in a nearby hayfield and having snowball fights. Dinner was a quiet affair and the boys fell asleep lying before the fire. Doug and Alex poured them into bed. Presents were arranged under the tree and everyone retired.
In contrast, Christmas Day was a tumultuous affair. Alex was jarred awake at six a.m. with a call from his sister, urging him to come to the house as soon as possible. She wanted to await his arrival before the boys could open their presents, but she had already been holding them off for an hour and if Alex did not get there soon, the house might not be standing when he did. Grudgingly, Alex threw on some clothes and drove over. Fortunately, his mother offered up fresh coffee and pastry, while his father made the rounds with spiked eggnog. Properly fueled, Alex rejoined the living.
