The Last One Home

Part 24

Epilogue

The entire house smelled of pine.

By the time the tree had been drug through the front door and across the living room, it had a left a wide trail of needles across the floor. Max struggled to get it to stand straight up in the flimsy tree holder. Every time he thought he had it secured, it would sag one way or the other.

Lana cursed as she crawled out from under the tree. She rubbed the sap from her fingers onto the legs of her jeans.

"I'm already tired of this stupid tree." She mumbled.

It was two weeks until Christmas when Max had finally convinced her they needed a tree. He didn't think she really cared about the tree, but more the ability to spend some time together. They spent the next several minutes untangling several strands of colored lights and stringing them around the tree.

"It looks beautiful." Their mother spoke from the kitchen doorway. She had an old tattered box in her arms that had once contained clothes from Christmas past and now contained various ornaments for the tree.

"It's not straight." Max replied with exasperation.

"That's what makes it unique." The box made a tinkling sound as she laid it down on the couch.

"No one else has this exact tree. That's why it's perfect."

Max was elated to hear her in such good spirits. She had spent two weeks in intensive care and now had therapy twice a week at home. She still had spells of chronic fatigue, but doctors were hopeful she would make a full recovery.

His mother ran her fingers over the soft branches as if it was the first time she had ever felt a Christmas tree. Every time the branches snapped back, a new wave of pine fragrance filled the room.

Pulling an ornament from the crumpled box, Lana turned to the tree and hung it on a sturdy branch. Max grabbed a handful and went to work helping his sister. Soon the tree glittered with ornaments of all different colors and sizes.

"There's just one last thing it needs." Mrs. Landon held up a star that was outlined with lights and gold garland. Looking at Max, she asked, "Will you do the honors?"

Max took the tree topper from his mother. It was truly ugly, but for some reason his father had always loved it. Every Christmas before he died, he had always placed it on the tree. Standing on his tiptoes, Max affixed the star to the top branch and plugged it in.

Mrs. Landon used the dial on the wall to dim the lights in the living room. The tree glowed softly in the corner of the room.

Max plopped down on the couch to admire the tree. Soon his sister and mother joined him. It felt good to relax with his family. He would have plenty of time to do so over the next few weeks. He had moved back home and had no plans to return to the university. After New Years, he would join his sister at the local college.

"Thank you two for all of the help. Your father would be very proud."

Max and Lana just smiled at their mother. There was no need to say anything else.

Max had just gotten up to get coffee when a loud knock came at the door. He frowned from where he stood. They weren't expecting anyone tonight. Motioning to his sister and mother to stay put, he approached the door. He hesitated momentarily, then pulled it open.

No one was standing on the porch. Looking to the left and to the right he didn't see anyone coming or going.

He was about to close the door when he noticed the package. It was just to his right, leaning against the house. The shiny green wrapping paper glinted under the glow of the Christmas lights around the front door.

Again, Max squinted into the cold night air trying to find a clue as to whom had dropped off the package. He didn't see any movement except for the gentle breeze swaying the tree branches. Ironically, even though it was cold enough, they had no snow since Thanksgiving.

Max bent down and picked up the package. It wasn't heavy at all. He wouldn't have been surprised if he were holding nothing more than an empty box. Whomever had wrapped it had done a clean enough job, if not a little spartain. Plain green metallic wrapping paper. No ribbon. No bow. No tag. Max turned it over just to be sure, but found nothing on the bottom that would help him identify who had dropped it off.

A chill snaked down his spine. He wasn't sure if it was just the weather, or if the mystery package was the cause. Something about it was beginning to unnerve him.

Not wanting to alarm his mother and sister, Max took a seat on the porch swing to open the package. Carefully he peeled away the wrapping paper and let it fall to the porch floor in a tight ball. The blank brown box staring back at him was heavily taped. Pulling his car keys from his pocket, he cut through the tape and opened the box. Layers of green tissue paper greeted him. Grabbing a handful, Max yanked the tissue paper away and gasped.

A face.

Well not a face, but a mask.

A blank mask with a wide leering grin.

A mask that was all too familiar to him.

Max would've dropped the box if he hadn't immediately noticed the folded piece of paper taped to the mask. It was a small piece of white paper not much bigger than a sticky note. With trembling fingers he unfolded the paper. Printed in block letters was a short sentence.

I'll see you soon.

J.