Revival by Scott Alarik

Author:Scott Alarik
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: folk music, songwriters, songsmith, folksongs
Publisher: Peter E. Randall Publisher
Published: 2011-08-08T04:00:00+00:00

Nathan popped out of bed on Christmas morning like, well, a kid on Christmas morning. He’d been looking forward to this all month, planning it, almost rehearsing it. For one thing, he’d let the house become unusually messy so he could spend the morning listening to carols and tidying up for Kit’s arrival in the afternoon. That’s what this holiday used to be all about, after all: sweeping out the old year to make room for the new.

He stopped at Whole Foods almost every day. He knew he was overdoing it, but it was fun wandering the aisles, thinking, “Wonder if she’d like this? That looks like fun. Do I have enough of this?” That was strange for him; he almost never stocked up on food, preferring to wait until he got hungry, then decide which nearby market or café to visit. He’d picked up another of those little trees, again liberating it from its dorky ornaments and again placing the ornaments carefully along the windowsill.

Why was this so exciting? He thought about that as he fixed his morning coffee. Probably because he’d spent so many Christmases alone. His mother died when he was in his twenties, mostly from drinking but also from sadness, if such a thing is possible. His father passed away a decade ago. But honestly, it had been hard to miss him; he’d been a distant figure for so long. Always, really. The landlords would invite Nathan over for Christmas dinner, but he always made excuses. Sometimes loneliness is less acute when you’re alone.

Now, drinking his coffee, he happily checked his holiday supplies. Cookies? Enough for a small elementary school. Enough cheese? Hoo boy, can you freeze cheese? There was only one small turkey but enough fixings to feed the neighborhood.

He stared at his overstuffed refrigerator. Good lord, you really have overdone it. Had he ever seen it that full? Then he smiled, thinking about how Kit would react. First she’d tease him about all the food. Then she’d realize he spent the whole week thinking about her, making lists, running errands, stocking up for their first Christmas together. No harm in that.

He pulled out a couple of brownies, grabbed his morning coffee, and wandered through the old carriage house. He told himself he was forming a battle plan for cleaning but he was actually remembering what the place had been like before he quit drinking. It wasn’t simply messy back then, he realized. Every corner had been crowded with the unfinished, the postponed, the important things he meant to get to, but not today.

There had been a huge pile of newspapers and magazines by the stereo. These were not to throw away, but things he meant to read. It began with an editorial he got halfway through; at its worst, the pile was as high as his shoulders.

When he quit drinking, he saw the place as filthy, the debris of a destructive and meaningless life. He saw it differently now. It was actually the debris of a life delayed.

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