Jopper's Holiday

Hot tea and cozy sweaters

December sixth

After several attempts to properly knock with a massive package in his arms, Hopper relents and gives the Byers' front door a solid kick with the toe of his boot. Will's eyes light up the minute he opens the door. "Whoa, sir, what is that?" he asks, getting out the Hop's way. Jim sets the large gift-wrapped box down on the kitchen table just as Jonathan comes into the room, the brothers sharing a look of excitement tempered with confusion.

Hopper removes his hat, unzips his coat and collapses into a chair. "I think it's fair to say that Flo outdid herself this year." Lighting up a cigarette, he gestures towards the gift, explaining, "she's going on some Caribbean cruise next week, and she wanted to make sure you guys got this before she went away."

Jonathan suggests that they should wait until their Mom gets home to open it, but Will disagrees. "It's for all of us. I'm sure Mom won't mind." The younger boy can hardly keep his eyes or hands off of the enormous present. "What do you think, sir?"

Jim shrugs and takes a drag, "That's up to you and Jonathan." He's enjoying keeping the kids in suspense, but he's also curious about the contents of the box.

"Okay, Will, go ahead and open it." Jonathan barely gets the words out before his brother tears into the shiny red wrapping paper. Will stops to squint at the images and print on the cardboard, more than a little disappointed.

"She got us a microwave?"

"That doesn't seem like her style," Hopper reasons, setting his cigarette in an ashtray and taking off his coat. "Maybe she just reused the box."

Will grabs some scissors and starts to work on the heavy tape. Within seconds, the box is open, its trove of treasures revealed: small canisters of raw tea, packets of instant cocoa, tins of homemade almond bark, peanut brittle, maple fudge, shortbread cookies, brownies with candy canes crumbled on top. Hopper and the boys don't know where to begin, so they just dig in, not unlike bears stumbling upon an unattended picnic basket.

"These are amazing!" Will exclaims, around a mouthful of brownie.

Jonathan is less verbally expressive than his brother, but Jim notices the older boy, in an unguarded moment, closing his eyes in quiet ecstasy as he takes a bite of creamy fudge.

"Now, be sure to leave some for your Mom, boys," Hopper smirks, snapping off a chunk of what must be his third piece of peanut brittle.

The Christmas-coloured tins are laid out on the table like a decadent buffet. Will is about to reach for another treat when his eyes wander to the shimmer of cellophane at the bottom of the gift box. "I think there's something else in here," he remarks, pulling back the red plastic. "Holy cow! Take a look at this!"

Jonathan and Hopper recoil in horror at the hand-knitted Christmas sweater Will takes from the box; Flo went to the trouble of making five of them, and although they're beautifully done, they are also hideous.

Will loves the acrylic wonders, and rifling around to find the creation intended for him, he immediately pulls the smallest red jumper over his head, admiring the row of bright green pine trees across the chest. "Isn't this great! Mine's so warm! You guys should put yours on and we can all show Mom when she gets here!" He runs to the bathroom to check himself out in the mirror, leaving Hopper and Jonathan to exchange pained looks.

"I'm not putting that frigging thing on."

"Not even for your little brother?"

"No way. What about you?"

"Nope. It's your colour."

"Black is my colour."

"Black is the absence of colour, actually."

"Those sweaters are the absence of taste."

"Fair enough."

Will returns, looking dismayed that Hopper and Jonathan haven't complied with his request. "Come on, guys. Mom would love it! You know how much she loves Christmas stuff. Look at this – Flo put little sparkly beads on the trees!"

It is difficult to resist the enthusiasm of a little boy who such a short time ago was trapped in a terrifying netherworld. Ultimately, Hopper and Jonathan put on the atrocious sweaters – yes, even Hopper's has the beads on the trees – and it's at that exact moment that Joyce and El walk in and promptly burst out laughing. Hopper and Jonathan are the portrait of misery.

When Joyce catches her breath, she hugs her radiant youngest son. "Oh my God! You guys look hilarious! I love it! When did you get these? Hopper – your face is perfect right now. Jonathan, could you get your camera? We need to get a picture..."

"Um, Mom, I'd really rather not..."

"Okay, okay. But promise me you'll wear them for dinner tonight. This is the best thing I've seen all day." Eleven is already pushing her arms into the sleeves of her sweater as Joyce wanders to the kitchen, all the while praising Flo's generosity and talent. When she spots the gift tag on the table – "To Joyce and Family" - her hand touches her heart and she gazes warmly at the ridiculously-dressed foursome devouring shortbread in her kitchen. Tears are pricking her eyes as she pulls her sweater over her head. Everything fits better than she had expected.