Snow: A Gentry Boys Christmas Story Read online

  “You can’t do it either,” grumbled Derek with a red face as he retrieved the dreidel and tried to give it another spin. Chase’s wife, Stephanie, was Jewish and I knew the parents always tried to maintain traditions of both Hanukah and Christmas this time of year.

  As the boys argued over their game, most of the adults had gathered around the dining room table, toasting the holidays with glasses of red wine. Evie looked over and held her glass up, raising her eyebrows, but I shook my head. I saw Cord’s wife, Saylor, nudge her and it seemed like she was asking a question. Evie just smiled and then took a sip of her wine.

  Meanwhile, Truly was telling a southern-accented tale of some holiday fiasco involving a battle between her husband, Creed, and an unruly evergreen tree with a mind of its own. Creed could best be described as the most stoic of the Gentry men and at the sound of his name he paused in his conversation with Deck and threw his wife a look. She blew him a kiss and he broke into a warm smile. Their daughter, Zoey, was a carbon copy of her black-haired mother and she sat on the couch beside Isabella as the two of them tried to stuff Piggy the stuffed kitten into a doll-sized Santa costume. In their red and green holiday dresses, hair curled and flushed faces alight with excitement, they looked like a postcard advertising holiday cheer. Apparently Deck’s wife Jenny agreed because she appeared with a fancy camera and snapped a quick photo.

  In fact the whole house was alive with love and laughter. There were children darting around like festive ping pong balls, adults joking with one another and one extremely hyperactive pet named Angus the Dog who cried so pitifully when Cord tried to stick him in a back bedroom that there was no choice but to unleash him back into the chaos.

  Evie and I had been the first ones to arrive, greeted by Cord, Saylor and their three girls. Not two minutes later Chase showed up with Stephanie plus their three boys, then right behind them came Creed and Truly along with their son and daughter, followed by Deck, Jenny and little Isabella.

  The only Gentrys still unaccounted for were Conway and Roslyn.

  I glanced at my phone, feeling uneasy. They were only a half hour late and Conway wasn’t always a stickler for promptness. Surely he would have called if anything had happened, like if Roslyn had suddenly gone into labor.

  “Merry Christmas!” boomed a voice, and I chuckled over the sight of Chase all decked out in full Santa costume. I could swear he’d been standing in the dining room not two minutes ago so he must have ducked into a bedroom real quick to change in the hopes the kids wouldn’t catch on. Santa Chase was a Gentry tradition and even though last year Creed had made a half hearted attempt to get his brother to pass the torch Chase stubbornly refused. Most of the Gentry children immediately crowded around him. Most, but not all.

  “Excuse me,” said a crisp little voice. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, sir?”

  I smiled at the young girl standing before me with a pen, a notebook and a very grave expression.

  “You may,” I said, trying to match her serious tone.

  Camille Gentry settled on the overstuffed lounge chair on my right and pored over her notebook. Then she raised her head and looked at me with the same wide green eyes that she’d inherited from her mother, Saylor. “What is your full name?”

  I cleared my throat. “Stonewall Tiberius Gentry.

  She nodded and scribbled in her notebook. “And how old are you?”

  “I’m twenty five.”

  More scribbling. “And what are you hoping to receive for Christmas, Stonewall?”

  I leaned over conspiratorially. “Last week at the mall I stopped by Santa’s workshop and asked for the new War of Demons game.” I glanced meaningfully over to where Chase was distributing gaily-wrapped packages from a large velvet bag. “I’m hoping he visits my house tonight and gives it to me.”

  Cami set her pen down and gave me a withering look. “Stone,” she scolded, “I’m ten years old.”

  “Are you? I thought you were eleven.”

  She gestured over to all the activity on the far side of the room. “I’m not a child, not like them. I’m going to be a journalist.”

  “Right.” I bobbed my head enthusiastically.

  Cami pursed her lips. “I mean, I know there’s no such thing as…” her voice trailed off and she glanced around.

  “Wait, what?” I adopted a distressed tone and tried to look as shocked as possible. “No such thing as what?” I whispered.

  Cami looked uncertain all of a sudden. She stared at me, probably trying to gauge whether I was pulling her leg or not, but I can play a role when I need to. I let my lower lip tremble a little, hoping it seemed like I was about to cry.

  She narrowed her green eyes and searched my face. Then she apparently concluded I was kidding and burst into riotous giggles.

  “Do you want to see what I made?” said another voice, this one much softer than Cami’s surefire commands. Cami’s twin, Cassidy, had quietly seated herself beside me on the couch.

  “Sure,” I said.

  Called Cassie for short, she shyly withdrew a little yellow square made of yarn. A loop was tied around the top, turning it into a Christmas tree ornament. “I’m learning how to knit,” she said proudly. “I made this for the baby, for Uncle Conway and Aunt Roslyn’s baby.”

  “It’s perfect,” I told her in all sincerity. “The baby will love it.”

  Cassie twirled her blond hair absently and looked around. “Where are they? Where are Uncle Conway and Aunt Roslyn? I’ve been waiting.”

  Where are they?

  I looked at the closed front door. “I wish I knew,” I said softly. The two girls glanced at one another and then looked at me worriedly. I cleared my throat and brightened. “I’m sure they’ll be here any minute,” I told them, smiling as I tried to feel as cheerful as I sounded. The girls smiled back and then wandered over to the dining room table that featured an impressive selection of snacks.

  There wasn’t anything to worry about. I was probably just feeling a little on edge after the emotional clash with Conway this morning. I winced, thinking about how it had all gone down, wishing I’d kept a cooler head and swallowed my own angry words. Conway had screwed up by keeping Eli’s presence from me. He knew it. But I believed his version of events was true. I shouldn’t have let him think that I’d lost faith in him.

  I withdrew my phone and stared at the screen. My finger hovered over the call button.

  As I was mulling over whether I ought to be worried or not, I got some company. Somehow Deck read my mood from across the room and came right over.

  “Is there some news?” he asked as he sat down. No elegant wine glass for Deck. Instead he had a good old-fashioned beer in his hand.

  “No news,” I replied casually. Then I added. “I’m sure they’re just running late. You know Conway, how sometimes he’s kind of allergic to punctuality.”

  Deck grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

  A short scene of mayhem erupted when little Thomas yanked his father’s beard off. Creed’s daughter, Zoey, screamed at the sight of a beardless Santa, who bore an unsettling resemblance to her Uncle Chase. She ran to her father in a panic. Creedence Gentry, the biggest, strongest and sternest of any of us, picked up that little girl, patted her back and then started singing ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ until Zoey laughed and the rest of the children began chiming in.

  Evie was looking at me. She cocked her head, her way of asking what was wrong. I was just about to go to her when my phone rang. The ring tone told me it was Conway and I felt a wave of undeniable relief as I answered.

  “You’re late,” I said into the phone. “And believe me, we’re all hoping for an exciting reason.”

  There was noise on the other end, a sound like paper being crumpled in a fist. Then the call cut off and there was nothing but the dial tone. Instantly I called back but the call went straight to voicemail. I tried again. Same thing. By now some of the other Gentrys had noticed something was amiss since I was standing in the m
iddle of the living room furiously hitting redial. Deck was right at my side and vaguely I heard Cord’s worried voice asking him what was going on. Evie gently touched my arm and there was still no answer on Conway’s phone. I thought I heard the sound of distant sirens although with the Christmas music playing and the children laughing I could have easily imagined it. It was the sound of my worst fears. I tried Roslyn’s number, closing my eyes while I waited an agonizing five seconds for the line to find the connection.

  “Please,” I whispered as it started ringing.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CONWAY

  “We’re late, Conway!”

  “I know, I know,” I grumbled, trying to balance a tower of brightly wrapped presents. A silver-wrapped package at the top nearly tumbled right off but through some creative handling I managed to avoid dropping anything. Winter’s early darkness had settled and a deep, cold wind lashed at me as I carefully deposited all the gifts in the car.

  Roslyn was standing in the middle of the living room when I returned to the house. “Look at that,” she said excitedly, pointing at the television screen. The screen flashed the words ‘Weather Alert’ in a shade of alarming crimson and then a blonde female newscaster dressed up like a Christmas tree breathlessly warned that the Phoenix metropolitan area could expect extreme weather in the coming hours.

  “The plunging temperatures have caused puddles from yesterday’s rain storm to solidify into dangerous patches of ice. The ice, plus an expected valley-wide accumulation of several inches will make for extremely dangerous driving conditions this holiday. Road hazards expected across Maricopa County. Please keep in mind that the Phoenix metro area has not seen a storm like this in decades and plan accordingly. Be safe everyone and Merry Christmas!”

  “Maybe we should stay home,” I said.

  Roslyn put her hands on her hips. “Nonsense. It’s only what, five miles to Cord’s house? Come one, everyone’s waiting. We’re already probably the last ones there.”

  I knew that was true. Plus I was a chronic skeptic and didn’t really believe in things like Christmas snow in the cactus-riddled desert until I saw it with my own eyes.

  “Can you hand me my sweater?” Roslyn asked.

  I picked up the thick read sweater and draped it over her shoulders. We’d fallen asleep together on the couch this afternoon and by the time we woke up it was dark. I half expected to see a message or missed call from Stone on my phone but there was nothing. Maybe he was even angrier than I’d guessed. Still, I planned to corner him somehow at Cord’s house and apologize again. The two of us has suffered such a long journey to get where we were. I couldn’t stand the idea that I’d done something to jeopardize all that.

  “Cheer up,” Roslyn whispered and then kissed my cheek.

  “I’m cheerful,” I insisted, wrapping an arm around her.

  She sighed and pressed her cheek to my chest. “Just think, next year at this time we’ll be sitting here with little Tadpole, ready to celebrate our first Christmas as a family.”

  I touched her stomach. “We’re already a family.”

  She looked up and smiled at me. There were still surreal moments when I couldn’t believe how much life had altered in the past year but they were the same moments when I understood that there was so much to be grateful for I could hardly talk about it.

  “I love you,” I told my wife.

  “Love you too. Now take me to a Christmas party.”

  There were still a few gifts to load into the car. And then just when I thought we were heading out the door Roslyn announced that she had to use the bathroom again. When she came out she was grimacing with a hand pressed to her back.

  “Pain?” I asked, concerned as always.

  “Just a little,” she admitted. “The added burden has caused some old dancing injuries to resurface.”

  “Seriously honey, we can stay in tonight. Everyone will understand.”

  She was shaking her head before I finished speaking. “No way. I’m not missing my very first Gentry Christmas Eve party unless my water breaks. I want to see all the kids running around and I can’t wait to get a glimpse of Chase trying to pull off his legendary Santa impersonation.”

  I grinned and held my hand out to her. “He won’t admit it but most of the kids know damn well he’s not Santa.”

  Once we were in the car I threw my phone on the dashboard and switched the heat on because it was colder than a meat locker outside. Roslyn carefully buckled the seatbelt before searching for Christmas music.

  “This was always my favorite Christmas song,” she said as the soft melody of ‘Silent Night’ drifted through the speaker.

  The tune brought back an old memory, one I didn’t even realize I had. Stone and I must have been about six years old and our folks had brought us to the annual Christmas tree lighting in the middle of Emblem, our small hometown. I could remember walking down Main Street while my mother yelled at Elijah for some perceived shortcoming while he hissed at her to please stop ‘for the sake of the boys’. We were raised as Elijah’s sons and it would be many years before we would even hear the rumors that we were actually the offspring of his wild Gentry cousins. To him we were his children and he always treated us as fathers ought to. On that night our mother glared at him and stalked off to go complain to her chain-smoking friends. Elijah sighed and then took our hands, leading us over to the loosely gathered crowed waiting in the town square. I remembered feeling the incomparable wonder that only a child who still believes in miracles can understand.

  “Keep watching,” our father said in the hushed voice of anticipation.

  The tree probably wasn’t that spectacular but to me the sight of it was nothing short of astonishing. The Emblem Central Church choir took their place in front of the tree and began singing ‘Silent Night’. Stone must have gotten impatient with standing still because he reached around Elijah’s back and kicked me in the shin. Normally I would have given it right back to him but it seemed wrong to disturb the solemnity of the moment so I ignored him. I returned my attention to the tree and the carolers but a weird sensation brushed across the back of my neck. Annoyed and wondering if Stone was up to more tricks I craned my neck around but he was standing on the other side of Elijah, yawning with his arms crossed. Only when I happened to glance behind me did I realize someone was staring at me. Someone I knew. A girl with serious eyes and shiny dark hair. The girl who lived next door, the girl who would one day become my first love and most tragic heartbreak when she was killed in a car accident. She looked angelic in that moment as she caught my eye and smiled. The edges of that old memory were fuzzy so I couldn’t be sure but I thought I smiled back. I hoped I did.

  Strange that a memory of Erin should occur to me now. It seemed like I hadn’t thought of her in months...

  “Conway!” yelled Roslyn and I jerked back to awareness just as a white furry shape that could have been either a dog or a coyote leapt directly in my path. My old street racing instincts kicked in and I cut the wheel to the right. It should have been fine. Whatever animal had jumped in our path jumped out just as quickly. We weren’t near an intersection, I was traveling slowly and there were no cars in sight. But the left front tire skidded on a treacherous patch of ice and the vehicle careened off the road, over the curb and right into the solid pole of a street lamp. We hit on the left so the driver’s side front bumper bore the brunt of the impact. I was aware of my phone tumbling off the dashboard and the sickening jolt of metal meeting metal, the feeling that my insides were briefly scrambled before resettling.

  “Are you all right? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” I shouted this over and over in the seconds following the crash.

  “I’m fine,” Roslyn gasped and I reached for her, touching her face, her arms, her belly where our vulnerable child slept. “Con,” she insisted. “I’m fine.”

  I was still panicking inside as I flipped on the overhead light switch and looked her over carefully. Aside from her wide, frightened eyes there was no vi
sible damage. The dashboard was intact and her side of the car hadn’t been impacted. The airbags hadn’t even deployed, which was a good thing as they would have been more of a danger in this case than a protector. As if trying to reassure his parents, our baby unleashed a hearty kick under my palm.

  “Conway, it’s okay,” Roslyn kept saying but I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t shake myself loose from the terror of those awful seconds. In a long ago terrible time I’d known this kind of fear. I knew how quickly those you loved most could be taken from you.

  A loud rapping sounded at the window and I looked up into the face of an old man. The car was still running so I rolled down the window and shut off the engine.

  The old timer peered at us inside the car. “You kids okay in there?”

  “Yes,” Roslyn answered because I still couldn’t speak. She squeezed my hand. “We’re all right.”

  The man looked at each of us, then down at Roslyn’s bulging stomach. He nodded. “I’ll call 911 just in case.”

  We were in a residential neighborhood, only a few blocks from Cord’s house. A few people had come outside at the sound of the crash and they were now trickling in our direction.

  “Con? Maybe you should check out how much damage there is to the car,” Roslyn said.

  “I don’t give a fuck about the car,” I said. “Do you have any pain? Do you feel dizzy at all?”

  Roslyn squeezed my hand again. “Honey, it’s all right. We’re okay.”

  “We’re okay,” I said but I still felt like dissolving into a puddle and weeping over how it could have easily been otherwise.

  I spotted my phone on the floor mat and grabbed it. The screen was cracked but it still seemed usable. Since I could hear the old guy already on the phone with 911, I called my best friend, my brother. I called Stone.

  The phone seemed to have suffered more damage than just the screen. I could hear Stone’s voice on the other end and I tried to talk to him but somehow he couldn’t hear me. I tried again and again but the call just wouldn’t go through. Then Roslyn’s phone buzzed and she dug through her purse to find it. She handed it over wordlessly.