A Baker's Dozen of Christmas What-Ifs

All The Light We Can Get

The Twelve Prompts of Christmas - Prompt #1

A Christmas Dinner scene.  Must include:

1. A black candle

2. An avocado plant named Kevin

3. Arnold Schwarzenegger

4. A lie

5. A small brown bird

*******************************************************

My breath puffed small clouds on the glass as I looked out from the kitchen window into the woods.  A twitch of grey to my right, and I held my breath, holding very still.  A large gray squirrel crept onto the sill and snatched up a cracker that Mom had left for him.  As he bounded from the window to the bird feeder with his stash, a tiny blur of brown feathers sent the seed tray swinging.  Sparrows.  She had wanted chickadees and cardinals, but somehow it was mostly house sparrows this year.

I turned back to the family room.  My little sister Laurel was sprawled out on the sofa, binge watching Terminator movies.

"Hey La. You know, Arnold's an asshat, right?"   Laurel kept her eyes on the screen.

"Yeah, but he's a baddass asshat."   I snorted, and Laurel flopped her hand at me absentmindedly, as if to say, whatever.

Coming home for Christmas felt so strange this year.  Everything had changed since I was a kid. The house fire had seen to that.

Over the past year, my bedroom had been converted into a study for Dad. The shed out front had been torn down, and the yard was littered with leftovers of the reconstruction.

But not everything had changed.  After the fire, Mom replaced the avocado plant on the landing.  This one fared no better than its predecessor.  Its leaves were coated in a fine layer of dust as it reached precariously for the scarce sunlight filtering through the canopy into the tall, narrow windows at the landing.

"Yeah, you go for it, Kevin.  We all need all the light we can get."

Technically, this plant was Kevin Junior.  My brother Ross had named the original avocado tree. He never explained why "Kevin", but I always suspected it was because he was into Kevin Costner movies.

Mom scurried past us into the kitchen, sliding her hands into over-sized oven mitts.

"My darling daughters. Too long we have tarried. Let us dine on mince and slices of quince! Will you precede me to the dining room?"  She was always quoting something or other theatrical or poetic.  It was cute.  Especially with the twinkle in her eye that dared us to figure out the literary source.  I usually had no clue, but this time I was suspecting Edward Lear.

"Raaaaayyyyyyy!"  Mom hollered back into the bedroom wing.  "Dinner is served!"

I called down the stairs to the basement guest room where Ross was staying. "Ro-ossssss!" "DINNER!"

Feeling like I should be doing something to help, I stepped back into the kitchen.  I was just in time to see my tiny mom, barely five feet tall, achieve the seemingly impossible feat of removing a 20 pound turkey from the oven.  First she flipped down the oven door. Then, using her hips to steady a silver tray, resting on the oven door, she rolled the turkey from the shelf onto the tray.  With a few skillful wipes of a towel, any signs of struggle were removed, and she looked up in triumph.

"Dang, Mom!  You did that like a pro!"

"My momma didn't raise no foolish children!" She chuckled in reply.

As we found our places around the dining room table, my dad groused in.  He never seemed happy, but he would usually tone it down when I was in town.  I knew I'd somehow garnered the "favored child" position, so I tried to exercise that meager power by keeping the mood light and happy.

As my brother Ross slipped into the room, I suddenly realized I was going to have a hard time with that mission.   He was poured into a cascade of gold sequins from throat to toe, wearing maximum glam-doll makeup, and flaunting a shoulder-length blonde wig. Holy, moly, Ross!

Laurel had started chatting with Mom about the dinner rolls. Dad had just picked up the carving knife and fork.  Now they all sat like deer in headlights, jaws slack.

I clacked my teeth shut, and took a deep breath.  "Ross! That's a killer outfit. I like you as a blonde."

..silence.

..more silence.

"Actually, Dee, it's Sasha.  I'm going by Sasha now.  Surprise!" Ross-Sasha raised his-her arms and popped a hip, striking a pose worthy of the Supremes.

Then Dad exploded.  "Not in my house, you don't!  Get.  Out.  Now."

At the opposite end of the table, Mom stood up slowly, pressing her palms into the table cloth, and looked Dad square in the eyes.  "These children are my guests. If you don't like my guests, you don't have to dine with us.  Now.  I am going to have some of that turkey.  Are you going to carve it, or shall I?"

The question hovered in the air, quivering for a moment, before falling gently to the table with the sound of knife and fork scraping together.

There was no more conversation at dinner.  But nobody left either.  Dad carved the turkey. Sasha kept shooting furtive glances at everyone.

The whole meal all I could think about was, So I have a sister now, and not a brother!  I wonder how Mom feels about having a daughter?  I wonder if she feels like she lost her son?  Did she even know Ross? I mean, I kinda feel like it was obvious.  I mean.. Kevin Costner? Yeah. I think we all knew.  And so on.

After dinner, Ross-Sasha slipped back downstairs into the guest bedroom.  Dad put on a football game, and Laurel joined him with a dish of ice cream.

I slipped down the stairs and knocked.

Ross-Sasha opened the door. He-she had already slipped out of the mermaid dress and into sweats. A thick puff of perfume and incense pushed out into the hallway. He-she waved me in. There were black candles burning on the desk and windowsills.  I chuckled—it somehow fit with the femme fatale image.

"Hey.  So, how do you want to be referred to?  Is it 'she' or 'they', or...?"

"Yeah, I'm a she.  Always have been. Got tired of wearing the mask.  Come on in.  I scored a pie and some ice cream."

I sat on the bed with my new little sister, eating apple pie.  Outside, the early winter dusk was settling in the woods.  Even through the double-panes of the picture window, you could somehow feel the chill as evening came to rest.

"It's all so different now, you now?" Sasha was saying. "This isn't the house we grew up in. The neighborhood has changed so much.  I have changed.  Or maybe I'm just not willing to live a lie any more.  Life isn't what we thought it was going to be, is it?

"You got that right."

"But you know, Dee, you were always a light.  You always showed me love.  You never showed me anything but love.  Thank you.  Just, thank you."

I turned to my sister, her exaggerated makeup blurred by my tears.  She really was a stunner.  I was proud of her for standing for who she is.

"Yeah, Sasha, we need all the light we can get, you know?"

-

THE END