On The Other Side

Chapter Eleven: Christmas and Snowflakes

Ms. Claire looks beautiful dressed for the Christmas holiday, the emerald green of her simple dress sets her burnished copper hair on fire, her skin as fine as porcelain. She’s due in just under two months, her hands resting protectively on the swell of her belly, a mothers’ glow about her.

My little Aggie-girl, dressed in snowflake white, looking the angel she is, her blue eyes sparkling in excitement. She’s twirling around and around, singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of her lungs. My laugh has her singing even louder, her cheekiness hilarious to me.

“Crag, did you see the snow, it’s a blizzard. It’s covering everything, like vanilla ice cream.”

I lean down, kissing her rosy cheek, “It looks like magic, doesn’t it? A blanket for the city, covering all the despair. Did you see the presents under the tree, little one? I bet a few of them are for you.”

Aggie skips to the corner where the small evergreen Christmas tree stands, the woodsy scent wafting around the room. It’s strung with a small strand of colored electric lights, the bulbs about the size of a golf ball. Colorful paper chains made by Corky and Aggie hug the branches, a paper star crowning the top.

“This silver wrapping paper looks like a star, right Crag? Mamaí and me made presents for everyone.” She tiptoes over to me, in a whisper she says, “I made a ring out of some tin I found in the street, that way Dec can marry us.”

She looks around the room, seeing her mama busy setting out plates of food, she leans even closer to my ear, “Don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret ring, I didn’t tell mamaí I made it, but Milly said it was a great, great idea.”

I laugh, think, I’m sure Milly did say it was a great idea, always trying to be a matchmaker.

“And what did you make old Crag for Christmas?” I ask swiping a finger down her nose, making her laugh.

“We made you Irish soda bread, because we know it’s your favorite.” She skips around the tree, examining every brightly wrapped gift. She stops suddenly, realizing what she did, “Oh no, I wasn’t supposed to tell you.” Her eyes, big and round, meet mine.

I wink, “I won’t tell a soul, cross my heart.” I swipe my finger over my heart, hold my hand out for Aggie to shake. She grasps my hand, giggling, shaking enthusiastically.

Miriam, Corky and Millicent arrive, the air filling with good scents, laughter, and Christmas spirit. Earlier, Dec and I dragged a couple of sawhorses in from the alley, laying pieces of old plywood on top for some sort of rudimentary table we can all gather around together.

Declan provides the baked ham, and where on earth did he get such a scarce commodity at a time like this when meat is all but unavailable, I asked him. He told me not to worry about a thing, “just enjoy the holiday.”  

So, I do, we all do. Miriam scoops up fluffy mash-potatoes for Corky, pouring gravy on top. The yams Milly baked are drenched in brown sugar and butter. Claire made a decadent rhubarb custard pie, that reminds me of my childhood, my seanmháthair’s kitchen.

“I can’t believe the bounty of this table,” Milly’s eyes take in the table, the bowls overflowing with delicious foods. “We’re blessed, all of us here. We’ve all experienced loss this year, but right now, this moment, we’re blessed to have each other.”

“Hear, hear,” Declan calls, holding up his glass.

After dinner, we gather around the tree, the Christmas lights casting the room in an ethereal glow. This moment is perfect. Out that door, beyond the store, there’s darkness and gloom, hopelessness. But here, in this small circle of light, is a haven.