The Christmas Guest

“Paul!”

Very few people could get away with calling me “Paul.” Grace was (as yet) the only nonfamilial person.

“Paul, that was our turn!”

Even Grace could only use the nickname so many times. I had some rules about driving great distances; Rule One: “Never drive with anyone whose initials were actually GPS; to do so would be a mistake.” However, for those fortunate enough to be dating Grace Peoria Saenz, the University of Alabama’s feature baton twirler of the past couple of sports seasons, that rule could be waived in exchange for Rule Two: “Let her drive part of the way; and obnoxiously feed GPS directions!” Since we were going to my parents, that rule had gone out the window too as we headed from campus to our final destination. I finally turned to face my passenger again.

“We’re fine, Grace. Our Exit is…the one that we just now passed; opposite that gas station. Dammit, GPS!”

“Hey; who’s driving again?”

Grace had a point. I gritted my teeth, pulled into a Burger King drive-through for drinks , and we turned ourselves around to head back toward our exit. A few motorists waved their fists at the dangerous move; I’d wager that at least one or two passengers in those vehicles applauded my road prowess.

“...Seriously, who misses their Exit heading home?”

“Those of us traveling with you to look at, m’ dear.”

“Harhar. So when was the last time that you were home, anyway?”

It was a good question. I had gone home for Thanksgiving Freshman Year. That experience had taught me that Christmases and Thanksgivings with friends were better. This was now our Senior year and the first time that I would be home for Christmas or would bring Grace around to show off.

“A while ago.”

“Do you think that you still at least remember your siblings and can help me out?”

“Shoot.”

“Thanks. Luce is the gay one, right?”

“Babe, the last person who mistook Luce for ‘the gay one’ was knocked out within two minutes.”

“Right, Luce is the oldest; Mr. MMA. Michael and Jailene are the twins; Michael is the gay one?”

“Well, Michael was certainly the gay one when he brought Craig home. I think that he’s with Michelle now.”

“Michael and Michelle?”

“...All I know is what I read on Facebook.”

“Yeah, Bisexuality just sounds like the poor boy’s confused.”

“More like trying to work his way back into dad’s good graces. And what about you, Miss Confused?”

“It’s called experimenting and everyone does it once while they’re in college. Well, everyone I used to hang out with.”

“How is Elise anyway?”

“We haven’t exactly spoken since I dumped her for you, stud!”

“Too bad; she was hot.”

“ADAM PAULSON!”

Now was a good time for her to remember my first name. We were finally nearing my hometown.

Soft Christmas music provided the sound for a while before the next question came up.

“What about your parents? I mean, you’re obviously heading home now for a reason.”

“Your family, last I knew, still lived in California.”

“Adam!”

“Okay, okay. So, according to Jailene, mom’s not doing so well these days. And dad; dad hasn’t been well since I can remember.”

“Illness?”

“I think some people politely call it the family illness.”

Grace seemed to understand that and rubbed me soothingly on a shoulder as I turned into my old neighborhood and my driveway. The family Honda was parked in the same place that it had parked for years. I was home alright. After a few moments to mentally prepare, I cut off the car’s engine, got out, and helped Grace out of her own seat. It was deceptively dark but it was 5:30. If memory of tradition served me correctly, dinner would be in an hour.

A spectral face stared out the window at us as we walked up the front walk. That face looked unmistakably familiar as well but its features had weathered some since I’d last seen it. Phillip Paulson’s hair was now grayer than I had remembered and he had grown a beard. Finally, that face of criticism floated away from the living room window and the gold curtains shut out the scene in the living room.

The door opened before I could knock and Phillip Paulson’s rotund figure blocked the entryway. Behind him stood a chiseled man of about his mid-thirties with muscles to spare and a grin that even lit up the darkened entryway.

“The big college man is home for a visit.” Paulson Senior barely managed to mumble as he staggered about on a cane and his eyes glared death. “Is this a Christmas miracle; or just Christmas charity?”

I wasn’t sure how much of that I deserved but I supposed that some of it was due.

“Hey, Pop!” I answered, throwing my arms around his neck in greeting before releasing him and gesturing at my guest. “This…”

Phil (Dad): “Who is this woman? She cannot be the feature twirler that you wrote home about.”

Grace hadn’t yet forgotten how to smile amiably or put on a show.

“Well, indeed I used to be!” she insisted, planting a peck on one of dad’s cheeks and trading a welcoming embrace with Luce. Dad gave her the once over one more time and somehow managed to stagger back inside the house in his cups.

“He’s not about to say so but he missed you,” Luce reassured me, “and we’re all really glad that the day has come to meet you, Gracie. C’mon; everyone’s in the living room.”

Grace and I exchanged a shrug and deposited our gifts in the entryway before entering the house proper.

More soft Christmas music swooned from the stereo system. Black-and-White images of a Christmas classic played silently from the television to accommodate the radio. The Christmas Tree glowed brightly.

Finally, I turned toward mom’s favorite rocker. She wasn’t there. She was, however, seated on a plastic seat right behind a clumsy walker. I could have cried; Grace had made it clear that it was alright in front of her. However, with Phillip Paulson nearby, it wasn’t okay to do so here. Besides, as Michael had warned me over FB, “tears made mom cry.”

I took Grace by a hand and escorted her to the corner where Lynn Paulson was being tended to by the twenty-nine year old twins.

“You’re home!” Michael gushed with an exaggerated embrace. “A Christmas miracle!”

“He brought a girl.” Jailene sneered. “How’s that for your Christmas miracle?”

“Ah yes; the girlfriend.” Michael replied, shifting his attention from me to Grace, lifting a hand, and awarding it with a kiss. “Michael Jackson Paulson. And you are Grace, yes?”

G: “Yes. Adam told me so much about you, Michael. You’re apparently quite the stage performer.”

M: “Ah, yes; with the stage presence of…well, the late Michael Jackson. And, you; the Crimson Tide’s feature baton twirler.”

“No Michelle this year?” I asked suddenly.

“Alas, no; she is away on business.” Michael replied, turning toward mom’s emotionless face. “Mo-ther, Ad-am came ho-uuuuum. He brought a giiiirlfriend.”

“She’s sick; not lame, dummy!” Jailene chided her twin brother.

Around that time, dad popped his head into the room to indicate that he and Luce had the table prepared…

Six glasses of wine and plates of steak, corn, and biscuits adorned the Paulson dinner table. At Grace’s request, her own plate consisted of a salad and a glass of water. All eyes fell on Grace as she delicately took up a leaf of salad onto her fork and started to chew.

J: “100.”

G: “I’m sorry?”

Jailene smirked across the table at Grace (more specifically, at Grace’s belly).

J: “The amount of calories on your plate; in case you’re interested.”

With that, nearly that same 100 calories in wine vanished down Jailene’s throat in one sip.

Dad: “Let me guess; my boy played football and you cheered him on, right?”

G: “No; um…we met in Drama Club.”

Dad: “Drama club. My sons are in Drama Club, pursue musical theatre for a career, and the straight son is named Luce. A doting father should be so proud...”

Things didn’t much improve after dinner. After two additional hours of small talk following the meal, Grace and I made our excuses and were out the door in the same evening that I had arrived home. Luce was the only family member who had seemed to notice and took up pursuit.

L: “Adam; Grace, wait! Dad just has a really hard time expressing himself but you guys being here does make a difference to everyone!”

Me: “Luce…I’m sorry. Tell mom and dad that if they’re interested, they can be at the hospital to meet their first grandson in about two months.”

With that, the (unmarried) former baton twirler and her boyfriend left my family home and old neighborhood behind…