The Christmas Call

Thomas Shaw felt that he had earned his winter recess. A budget proposal had seen a resolution that satisfied even the president. Now, everyone on the Senate could finally relax over a well-deserved break.

Most of Shaw’s staff had already gone home. His receptionist, Beverly Clarke, was still at her desk and the night cleaning crew and watchmen would be arriving momentarily for one final tour of duty before the holiday season. Shaw had powered down his computer and turned off his office phone. He only had some last minute paperwork to tend to under the glow of a single desk lamp that, otherwise, made the office look dark and quiet. Shaw filed another handful of papers away when his cellphone rang. Shaw sighed dejectedly. Had the media outlets, in some snide attempt to further politicize their reporting, now released the private cell phone numbers of politicians so that their constituents could pester them at home too?

Thomas reached for the irritating device (in the spirit of the holiday season, it was playing a tirade from a classic holiday movie) and checked the screen. He almost wished that it had been a constituent, looking to hassle him on his personal line.

“Hel-.” He began the traditional greeting.

“…Your father wants to know when you’re cutting all of those perks packages to all of you fancy folks!” the voice at the other end giggled an interjection.

Shaw took a moment to read the newspaper on his desk (“Youngest GOP Senator among the first to take a cut from benefits package to help ailing economy.”) and said nothing. What would be the point ? He faked a polite chuckle at his mother’s constant attempts at what she confused for polite ribbing.

“I’m not sure, ma.” He answered (explaining the truth to her tended to hurt her feelings and no one wanted to deal with that time bomb now). “I’m just finishing up a few things and should be home in…”

A cackle interrupted Shaw again.

“Now he just asked if you all bothered to accomplish something out there in Washington before returning home!” Betsy Shaw managed to get out over her latest bout of hilarity.

Apparently, Elmer Shaw couldn’t bother to say all of this into a phone himself; much less dial one once in a while.

“We stayed here and made absolutely certain that a budget proposal got passed before recessing.” Shaw reassured her.

The laughter at the other end was enough that the senator wondered if his mother would keel over at any moment.

“N-Now he asked…!” she began.

“…He’s right there next to you, mother; why don’t you just hand him the phone?” Shaw finally interjected.

“Well!” Betsy huffed. “Happy Holidays to you too!”

She had said “Happy Holidays.” She was going to put him through a long holiday season; then claim it was his fault.

“Don’t make any jokes or have any fun whatsoever; here’s our son!” she yelled into the background for the benefit of the party on the other line.

Sure enough, it took only a second to hear “I gathered, ‘Bess; thank you.” Finally, there was some shuffling as the phone was passed right next to where Betsy Shaw had been sitting and the voice changed.

“So, son, what exactly is the difference between one of you newfangled Republicans and someone who’s lower than dog mess?” Shaw Sr. jumped straight to the point.

Senator Shaw had long since given up on explaining to his father that “…person lower than dog mess” was actually quite a bit longer-winded than saying “democrat.” Besides, ever answering this Neanderthal loudmouth, even in agreement, only caused the good senator to be called a “stupid child."

“No politics, dear; his skin is very, very thin, don’t you know.” Betsy harped to make sure that she was heard on the other end of the line again. In the spirit of “no politics,” Mr. Shaw changed the subject.

“So, you and Legs up there in your cozy little office…” he asked.

“…her name is Beverly, dad; and I’m happily married with a family.” The senator replied, glancing down at a final piece of paper staring back at him on the desktop. For the moment, he was still happily married.

“What; I wanted to know who you were bringing home to Christmas Dinner this year!” the Shaw patriarch insisted his innocence.

“Joelle and the kids.” Shaw answered before it occurred to him to check with his wife on her attendance this year; or to negotiate about the kids.

“Joe is a boy’s name.” the father huffed. “Now, Beverly; a pretty name for a pretty woman!”

The father knew darn well that Tom’s wife’s name was Jo-elle. Nonetheless, he didn’t answer; there was no point in doing so.

“I’m giving you back to your maw.” He retorted. “Be sure to pick up your sense of humor again as you’re leaving that high and mighty office of yours tonight.”

Shaw had to wait a beat for his mother again. At that point, Beverly stuck her head into the office. She had to have heard her name bandied about and Senator Shaw’s face colored.

“Will there be anything else, Senator?” she asked.

Senator Shaw removed the phone from his ear long enough to answer.

“No, Beverly; you’ve done more than enough throughout this Session.” He answered with a jovial smile. “Get outta here; go enjoy a Merry Christmas and festive New Year. Give my best to John.”

By then, Senator Shaw could hear the harping on the other end of the line again. He was flummoxed and put the phone back to his ear before it should reach a point where he would have to answer and would be caught with it away from his ear. Beverly got the message, mouthed the words “thank you, sir,” and left. Meanwhile, Senator Shaw had the privilege of being treated to…

“…your Aunt Carol didn’t vote for you.” Mrs. Shaw chirped with that obnoxious mirth behind her voice that she expressed any time that she spoke to her son. As a Senator, did he not deserve better; as a human being, did he not deserve to be addressed with some basic human dignity from his own mother?

“I gathered that, until Aunt Carol shifts political affiliations, I wouldn’t have gotten her vote.” Shaw retorted.

“Well, she’s the only person in the family who didn’t!” Madam Shaw huffed. “So, don’t you mention politics at dinner!”

“Of course not.” Shaw answered. “So, no one at the table should bring up…”

“…You are not depriving your father of the right to piss your aunt off!” Madam Shaw interjected. “It’s in his constitution, don’t you know?”

“Right.” The senator confirmed.

He then heard about how his sister’s side-boyfriend had been caught with another girl, how Grandma Frances had had a problem getting the right meat for Christmas dinner, about Uncle Kip’s knee, about whether or not his cousin’s family would be getting a new dog that the wife and kids wanted but his cousin was steadfastly against…

“...So, how are you?” the mother demanded.

There was only one correct answer to such a question after everyone else’s problems had been dumped all over Senator Shaw’s eardrums.

“Fine.” He answered.

“Good answer.” The mother answered. “Christmas Eve means a lot to us and don’t you bring us down with your petty problems. Oh; and don’t flaunt your fineness too much. Or your family. Your sister, Kitty, is struggling with both of her side-boyfriends right now, you know.”

“Right; be doing fine and don’t flaunt my family.” Senator Shaw answered, glancing down once more at the damning piece of paper sitting in the middle of his desk. “No problem, ma; I’ll be in West Virginia in a couple of days. Can’t wait to see everyone.”

With that, Senator Shaw hung up his phone. He then stowed the device away in his pocket once more and picked up the yellow notice:

“NOTICE OF DIVORCE. PARTY: JOELLE SHAW-BRADLEY. VISITATION RIGHTS FOR THE PARTIES OF KEITH, DUNCAN, AND KATIE SHAW: TO BE DETERMINED IN A COURT HEARING JANUARY 15, 2018. HAPPY HOLIDAY SEASON FROM YOUR FRIENDS AT…”

Shaw dropped the paper numbly back to his desk. What was the point; the words weren’t going to change. He could explain where Joelle (and possibly his children as well) were when he got home and would be bludgeoned with the question an indeterminate amount of times. Until such a time, he had to negotiate Christmas Eve plans with a wife who had barely said three civil words to him in three weeks. That could be handled in due time. For the moment, Senator Shaw was finally alone in his office; it was officially okay to let the first tear of the day fall in his office. Because Heaven forbid he should cry over his own “petty” problems amongst a family griping about theirs…