Christmas and Eve

my roommate has a reason to hate christmas

countdown: one day
(part one)

Marilyn was not excited to be back home. She got off the plane to a text telling her to call a cab. No one arrived to pick her up, no welcoming arms to bring her home.

Although, with the way her life had been up to this point, she really shouldn't have been expecting it. Her family wasn't the type to do that.

She stood at the front door to her father's mansion, hating herself for having come all this way now. Ever since her parents split up and her father had taken pretty Victoria Mary Smith as his bride, all Judaism was wiped out in her father's household. They was such antisemitism in the household that even the mention of Marilyn's Jewish upbringing exiled her to her room.

Still, Marilyn was Jewish. That's what she grew up as, and that was what she was. Celebrating Christmas and Easter each year meant she had to hide her absolute disscontempt for the holidays, so she would try to make sure it was her mother's weekend when important dates rolled around.

But when Marilyn got to high school, her mother wasn't around to take her for holidays. Marilyn had to seek refuge with the only other Jew her stepmother would let her hang out with: Eve Dillingham.

Eve was a good example, or so her stepmother said. And so they began to play dreidel on Hanukah and Marilyn would have a permanent seat at the table for Shabbat.

Once she was finally in college, Marilyn was ready to push away all thoughts of Christmas once and for all.

Eve, as we well know by now, wasn't exactly on the same page as Marilyn.

"It's open!" yelled a gruff voice, snapping Marilyn out of her thoughts. With a heaving sigh, Marilyn pushed open the oak door to the familiar aroma of fancy dinners that no one ever liked. She could hear the tv blaring of football, and the faint the song of shark tank from the kitchen. In front of the tv sat a blob of a human, who's disheveled looks seemed so contrasting to the rest of the spotless house. But maybe that was because he never touched the rest of the spotless house, always sitting right here.

"Marilyn! Honey buns!" shouted her father gleefully, reaching out at her like a baby to candy. "I'm so glad you could make it in time for Christmas."

"As am I, father," Marilyn replied stone coldly, stepping over to hug her father.

Once he released her, Marilyn's father wheezed a breath and gestured towards the kitchen. "Your mom-"

"Step-mother. Vicki."

"Yes, her. She's preparing dinner for the whole family-"

"You mean your side of the family. Not mom's side."

"Marilyn, stop interrupting me. We still are your family, you always seem to forget that. We love you too." Marilyn nodded. Right, she thought. Because if you didn't loved me, you wouldn't speak to me once a year to invite me for a Christmas party I'd much rather miss.

She didn't say any of this, instead, Marilyn simply walked into the kitchen to speak to the home wrecker who began this nightmare.

"Oh, hello Mary," squeaked the pitchy voice of her step mother's sister, who could never quite get her name right.

"Hello Adeline." Marilyn brushed past, moving towards where her step mother hovered above the oven. "Would you like some help in here?"

"Oh yes! What a lovely thing to try and help with. You can make the salad." Vicki- the stepmother- still didn't believe that Marilyn was capable of cooking, and kept her on the easiest of jobs.

"Hey, Vicki? I haven't really seen any menorahs around, and it's still Hanukah, you know-"

"I'm sure there's one in the neighborhood. There are probably some at the Bernstien's house or-"

"I meant our menorah, Vicki. I'm Jewish, remember?" Vicki turned with deep forms lines etching her face.

"Your other mother was Jewish. Here, we are a happy Christian family and you will celebrate Christmas with the rest of us."

"I respect your traditions in return that you respect mine," Marilyn said firmly, holding her ground. "I am a Jew. And Jews celebrate Hanukah."

"You will celebrate whatever your family is celebrating jn this household, and will stop talking back to me this way." Vicki's stern tone didn't make Marilyn back down for a second.

"I will celebrate what is part of my faith, and what I have grown up celebrating," was the response that came from between her clenched teeth.

"Go set the table, Marilyn. And I don't want to hear another word from you until you've got our attitude under control." Marilyn didn't answer this time, leaving the kitchen in a scarily calm manner. She did as she was told, setting the table in a neatest way possible, and waited by the foyer archway alone until the call for dinner came. Every so often a cousin would pass her by and shoot her a dirty look, or otherwise simply scurry past the calm teen, who leaned up against the priceless antique decorated archway with her arms crossed over her body and not a glimpse of emotion on her impassive face.

Marilyn's pretty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes made her look like the perfect Christian girl, and she hated it. She took after her father, instead of her mother's big, dark eyes and curly mane of chocolate locks that were the epitome of Jew looks. She wished she looked more like her mother instead of fake Vicki and her father.

Dinner was called, and Marilyn went to take a spot near the door, so she could escape whenever needed. Unluckily, her stepmother pulled her over to sit by her father and her- this was Marilyn's family's house, after all.

Marilyn's father couldn't to care less where Marilyn sat. He barely offered a gruff "hello" to her as she took her seat next to him in the overly decorated dining room.

Her mother began to talk, spitting out he usual boring Christian shtick about family and the true meaning do Christmas. Marilyn was bored to death.

She didn't want to be here. She wanted nothing to do with this family or this Christmas. So when it was time to say grace, Marilyn didn't seem to notice her stepmother's eyes digging into her for the fact that she neglected to lower her head like the rest of the family.

"Marilyn," Vicki hissed.

"What is it, Vicki?"

"Why aren't you saying grace like the rest of the family, dear?"

"Because Jews don't say grace. We say our brachot," Marilyn hissed through clenched teeth.

"There are no Jews at this table, Marilyn. Be respectful." Vicki's tone was teetering on the edge of absolute rage by now, and most of the extended family was watching the exchange with more interest than they had in saying grace.

"I am a Jew. Would you like me to recite my blessings instead of grace?" snapped Marilyn.

"You will do no such-"

"Baruch atah adonai eloheinu melech-"

"Marilyn you stop that this instant, I will not have some dirty Jew-"

"Haolam asher-"

"-this is a Christian household and I will not support any-"

"Kodishanu bemotzvotanu-"

"You shut up right now and be respectful-" Their ringing tones rose in an attempt to attack the other, and now they were both yelling.

"Vedivrot-"

"This is horribly disrespectful-"

Marilyn snapped.

"Antisemite!" she screeched finally, kicking away her chair and sending it flying into the ugly wallpapered wall. She stormed out of the dinning hall.

"Where do you think you're going?" her father scolded from the table, finally speaking up.

"Where do I think I'm going? It's Christmas, and Christmas is meant to be spent with your family, and people who love and care about you." No one spoke. "I'm going to spend Christmas with someone who loves me.

"I'm going back to college."