The Christmas Note by Donna VanLiere

Author:Donna VanLiere [VanLiere, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2011-10-25T07:00:00+00:00

When I finish up at three thirty I walk to the front of the office where Susan is on the phone. I pull on my coat and hat and put the papers in Jodi’s in-box. Susan taps on the box, gives me a thumbs-up, and then waggles her fingers ’bye in my direction. I take a breath and wave, opening the door.

I don’t know if I’m excited or scared to death. I want to be excited, I say to myself. I want to pray like Mrs. Schweiger always did and have her kind of belief. I want to believe that my brother and sister would want to meet me and that they’re good people. I want to meet them and tell them that they were the lucky ones; they got away. They never helped their boozy mother into bed or had cookie dough crammed down their mouths. They were the favored ones, the chosen ones. The blessed ones.

It’s a little before four when I arrive at Miriam’s house. Her home is decorated with simple Christmas lights draped over the shrubs and wrapped around the porch railing and posts. That must be Gloria’s house next door with a Noel sign hanging on the door and evergreen and lights wrapped around the porch columns. I knock on Miriam’s door and Gretchen’s son opens it a crack, staring at me. What is his name? I can’t remember.

“You’re Melissa from next door,” he says, opening the door wider.

“How are you?” I ask.

“My nana says you can’t bake either, so this whole baking deal will be over with toot sweet.”

“Now don’t tell her such things,” Miriam says, coming up behind him and putting her hand over his mouth.

He pulls her hand away and throws his arms in the air. “That is exactly what you said, Nana!”

“I know, but don’t tell her such things.”

He walks away, shaking his head. Gretchen steps into the entryway and holds her hands out at her side. “Well?”

“Well, what?” I ask, slipping off my shoes.

“Do I need to make a call?”

I hand my coat and backpack to Miriam and roll my eyes. “Your daughter can be very pushy.”

“Don’t I know it,” Miriam says, whispering.

“I am not, Mother! Go put her coat away!” I follow Gretchen to the kitchen, where my nose goes into overdrive. Gretchen picks up a spoon and stirs something in a pot on the stove. “Well? How about it?”

“Leave her alone, Gretchen,” Miriam says, motioning for me to sit at the table. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.” She sits across from me and slaps her hand on the table. “So, are you ready?”

I laugh and nod. “Yes. I turned them in today.”

“Oh, that’s splendid!” Miriam says.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I have this feeling in my gut that my siblings are going to be more like Ramona and not in the least like you two.” It comes out faster than I realize and Gretchen smiles.

“Wow. That was pretty close to a compliment. Give her something hard to drink, Mom, and let’s see what else she gives up.

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