Remembering the Christmas House

By Michael Hughes

"Remembering the Christmas House" is a captivating and heartwarming coming-of-age novel that follows the life of a spirited 6-year-old girl as she navigates the ups and downs of growing up. From moments of hope, excitement, and joy to facing daunting challenges and overcoming disasters, her journey is one that will resonate with readers of all ages.

Set against the backdrop of a loving and supportive family, this story encapsulates the essence of the holiday spirit and the transformative power of perseverance. Despite encountering horrific adversity, the young protagonist finds the strength within herself to grow, adapt, and ultimately succeed in making her life better.

Written with a keen sense of humor, "Remembering the Christmas House" is a delightful tale that elicits laughter, evokes memories, and tugs at the heartstrings. Its universal themes of family, resilience, and personal growth make it a story that everyone can relate to and find comfort in, from late elementary school students to adults seeking a heartwarming read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350900408

Michael Hughes

Michael Hughes grew up in a small town in Northern Ireland. A graduate of Oxford, he also trained in theatre at the Jacques Lecoq School in Paris. He has worked for many years as an actor under the professional name Michael Colgan, and he also teaches creative writing. He lives in London with his wife, the acclaimed historian Tiffany Watt Smith, and their two children. His first novel, The Countenance Divine, was published by John Murray/Hachette UK in 2016.

Book preview

BK90077077.jpg

Remembering the Christmas House

©2023 Michael Hughes

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

print ISBN: 979-8-35090-039-2

ebook ISBN: 979-8-35090-040-8

Contents

On the Road to Grandma’s

The Christmas House

Christmas Day

The Trip Home

Back to School

Julie

The Phone Call

Another Call

Changes and Decisions

Braces

David

First Christmas Together

Paradise Lost

Opportunities

The Announcement

Decisions and Transitions

Christmas Surprise

A New Life

A Visit to Grandma’s

On the Road to Grandma’s

Sarah woke up because her daddy said a bad word. The car was spinning in the middle of the highway and came to a stop, facing the wrong direction. The oncoming car honked its horn, slowed, and veered off to their left to avoid a collision.

What happened, Tom? Marilyn MacIntyre asked. Now wide-awake, she too had been sleeping until her husband, Tom MacIntyre had shouted his expletive as the car started spinning.

Guess the road is slicker than I thought, Tom replied. He was shaken, but tried hard not to show his nervousness to his wife. There was no point in that. She would only worry. He didn’t want to wake Sarah either. She had been up and excitedly asking all kinds of questions for the better part of the night. She had amazing stamina for a six-year-old, Tom thought to himself. She hadn’t fallen asleep until about 2:00 A.M. As she did, Tom was both grateful and a little sad. He welcomed the relief from the barrage of questions, but regretted any moment he and Marilyn were unable to experience with their only child. After all, she would only be six once.

Tom pulled the car over to the left shoulder of the road and waited as two more cars and an eighteen-wheeler, decorated with a wreath on the front grill, and both tractor and trailer festooned with lights, drove by. The corners of Tom’s mouth turned up slightly in a tiny, unconscious smile as he watched the truck pass. Tom liked it when the truckers decorated their rigs for Christmas. It seemed to give them, and the rest of the holiday travelers lining the highway a little extra reminder, that this was supposed to be the season of cheer and brotherhood, despite the loneliness of the open road.

When the road seemed sufficiently clear, Tom carefully made a U-turn and headed down the highway once more. This time he was aware of the presence of the ice that had collected on the blacktop. It was raining when they left home. The rain had eventually turned into sleet, then snow. As they drove further north, the surface of the highway had accumulated a thin layer of ice covered with a white blanket of the beautiful, yet dangerous stuff. Tom drove past dozens of cars that had slid off the road. Some had flares and flashers. Others had people walking around them, putting chains on their tires. There weren’t a lot of trees or rocks near the shoulder, and the surface of the highway was relatively even with that of the surrounding landscape, so the likelihood of injury was small. Nevertheless, Tom checked each car he passed to see if anybody appeared hurt. Tom had forgotten to pack the chains. He cursed himself, but didn’t tell Marilyn.

Shouldn’t we put chains on the tires? Marilyn asked, looking at the cars on the side of the road. Tom smiled to himself at the statement because they both knew that when Marilyn said we in conjunction with a task, it meant you.

No, we’re okay, Tom said. If it gets too much worse, I’ll pull over.

How are you feeling, Tom? Marilyn asked, reaching over to rub his neck as he drove. Do you want me to drive a little?

I’m okay. Tom lied. He was nervous and worried. The spin out had snapped him out of his snow-hypnosis. He inched along at thirty miles per hour, straining to see the side of the road. When it was covered with snow, it was hard to tell where the blacktop ended and the landscape began.

Sarah closed her eyes. When she opened them again, it was bright outside.

Are we there yet? She asked excitedly.

Not yet, sweetheart, Tom replied. He had driven all night. He had to. Today was the twenty-third of December, and he wanted to be at his parents’ house before Christmas Eve. He reflected angrily about the new calendar the school district, for which he taught, had adopted. In order to have five extra days off during the summer, the powers that be had lopped three days off the traditional two-week Christmas vacation, and two days off Easter break, which, until recently had been a week long. This meant that Tom had to teach through Wednesday, the twenty-second, even though half his class had gone on vacation after school on the seventeenth. Tom frowned slightly and shook his head as he thought of the schedule change.

"Oh well, he thought to himself. At least I’ll have five extra days to work at the glass company this summer before school starts up again."

Tom worked for Smith Brothers Glass Contractors during the summer and occasionally on weekends and vacations when school was in session. It helped him make ends meet as both he and Marilyn had decided she should stay home with Sarah.

Good morning, sunshine! Marilyn chimed, smiling back at her and gently shaking her foot with her hand. Did you sleep well?

Sarah ignored the question and looked out the window at the snow-covered landscape. Will Grandma and Grandpa’s house have snow?

I’m sure it will, Tom replied

When are we gonna get there? Sarah asked.

It’ll be a while, Marilyn said. Do you want to play ‘I Spy With My Little Eye’?

Sarah usually liked to play that game when they were on the road, but she was still groggy from just having awakened, and wanted to think about Grandma and Grandpa MacIntyre’s house. She had been there twice before at Christmas time. She already knew what to expect. Sarah thought it was it was like how Heaven must be.

As soon as they pulled up, Dad would honk the horn. Grandpa, who always said bad words, but tried real hard not to while Sarah was around, would stick his head out of the window of his den and try to act annoyed and like he wasn’t expecting them. He was never very good at it though. Grandma and Grandpa would then hobble out of the house and welcome them excitedly.

Grandma would come to Sarah first, saying, There’s my big girl! and pick her up out of the car. With Sarah in her arms, she would then try to hug Mom and Dad.

There would be snow on the ground and icicles hanging from the roof, but the house would feel warm and secure. Christmas carols would be playing on the radio in the background. Outside, the house and the trees in the yard would be covered with a mixture of snow, ice, and multicolored strings of pretty, big lights.

Inside, the house would be filled with the rich aroma of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and fresh English muffins covered with melted butter and strawberry jelly.

The tree, which was always a freshly cut fir, would fill the room with a scent of its own, which Sarah had learned to associate with the season, and would be trimmed with those pretty, big lights. At the base of each bulb, Grandpa always put reflectors that made the lights look brighter. The tree would be decorated with all kinds of different ornaments Grandpa had collected while he and Grandma were stationed in Europe when he was in the Air Force.

Sarah knew that Santa would find her there. She and her mother wrote a note and mailed it to Santa before they left just to make sure. She had been a good girl almost the whole year, except for the time at school past week when she kicked Sammy Benson in the privates. He had been mean to her all year. When he pushed her down from behind, then grabbed the watercolor picture that she had painted for her mother out of her hand and tore it up, she couldn’t help herself.

After all, the teacher did tell the class, Never let anybody bully you.

After she kicked him, the teacher said mean things to her. The principal told her to never do anything like that again. Her mother told her to tell the teacher next time. But whenever she did tell, the teacher always called her a tattletale!

Sammy had just kept looking at her with tears in his eyes, bending over, holding the front part of his pants with both of his hands and saying, Unnnnnh! Unnnnnh!

They would be there pretty soon. It was Christmastime once again. They were going to the Christmas House, and everything would be okay.

Sarah looked out the window and watched the cars on the other side of the road going the wrong way. Why would anybody want to drive away from the Chrismtas House? She felt sorry for them as she closed her eyes and dreamed of Christmas lights, ornaments, bells, and horns.

The horn sounded again just as Grandpa MacIntyre poked his head out of the upstairs window. Whatcha doin’? Trying to wake the whole damn neighborhood? he shouted, trying to look grumpy. The corner of one side of his mouth was turned up in a suppressed smile. Hang on. I’ll open the garage door.

The Christmas House

The old garage door creaked and rattled as the ancient mechanical door opener revealed the immaculately-maintained interior. The front door flew open as Grandma came out, beelining toward Sarah.

Oh! There’s my big girl! She fussed as she unhooked the seat belt and scooped Sarah up in her loving arms. Sarah knew what grandparents were all about, and she was ready to be pampered and fussed over.

Grandpa was next. He hugged Marilyn and thrust his right hand toward Tom. How’s the trip?

Tiring! Tom hinted as he gathered things to carry into the house. Okay if I take a nap?

Suit yourself, Mack MacIntyre said, smiling and looking at Sarah as his wife, Emma, whisked her into the kitchen. His real name was Gerald. He detested that name. Everyone who knew him just called him by his self-appointed nickname Mack.

After you’ve had breakfast! Grandma shouted in good-natured insistence.

Ummm, okay. If I must, Tom said, smiling. He wouldn’t turn down breakfast for the world. The smell of bacon, eggs, and English muffins hung heavily in the air.

"Oh! Now he obeys! Mack said, smiling as Tom continued unloading the car. Guess we should have made more breakfasts like this when he was a teenager!" Tom smiled as he walked into the house, remembering some of his teenage antics, then sat down to eat.

"Did you drive all night? Emma asked with a tone of concern.

Pretty much, Tom said. The drive wasn’t too bad. There was a little ice on the road, but it was no big deal. I just slowed down a little and we made it just fine.

I was listening to the news. They said there were multiple accidents on the highway, Mack interrupted. You didn’t have any trouble?

The roads were a little slick is all. Like I said, we just slowed down. Tom didn’t want to worry his parents with stories of how they spun out on the highway. They had made it there all right; that’s all that mattered.

So what’s for breakfast? I’m starved! Tom wanted to change the subject. He knew his parents were classic interrogators. If he didn’t change the subject soon, they would find out about the spin-out, and they would insist on flying to Tom’s house every holiday instead of Tom bringing his young family to them.

That just wouldn’t do. Tom loved coming home for Christmas. It renewed him. It gave him a sense of connection with everything that once made him feel innocent and secure. It wasn’t just his parents, and it wasn’t just the house. It was the combination of the two of them. One didn’t seem complete without the other. Being there at last made Tom feel whole.

Marilyn felt the same way, though she didn’t express her feelings to Tom. Adopted as an infant, she was an only child. And, though they dearly loved each other, Marilyn’s relationship with her adoptive father was uncomfortable at best.

Her dad eventually forced himself to be somewhat civil with Tom, but it was no secret he didn’t care for him. He had opposed the marriage. As a high school math teacher, Tom didn’t earn the kind of income her father thought she deserved. As a result, Marilyn and her father had several blow-ups in the time leading up to