Merrily Yours : An 80s Christmas Novella Read online

  Merrily Yours

  Jessica Marie Holt

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book, other than short quotations for review purposes, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

  Copyright © 2020 by Jessica Marie Holt

  Cover design by Bookish Gals

  Formatting by Kristen Iten

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  For my orange tabby Milo, who longs to be an outdoor cat. For my 80s mom, who always made Christmas special for us. And for all the wonderful grannies everywhere who adore us, feed us, and keep us laughing, sighing, and believing in the future. A special thanks to Julie, my rock and ever-patient sounding board, for keeping me sane throughout the writing process.

  One

  Ellie

  “June, it’s a phase. She’ll grow out of it.”

  June glared at Ellie, her gray eyes sparking. “You mind your children, I’ll mind mine.”

  Ellie tilted her head, trying to suss out how far she should push to make her point. June was particularly crabby lately. She always was at this time of year. Making sure everyone had a perfect Christmas was her life’s mission, and she approached the season with all the joy of a military strategist planning a battle. Ellie had convinced June to set aside her busy schedule for a coffee break, but their pleasant chat had meandered into another minefield.

  “I’m not saying you have to let Cynthia wear the midriff top.” Ellie said gently. “I’m saying that you don’t have to worry about the fact that she wants to. It’s perfectly natural for her to push boundaries as she gets older and finds new ways to express herself. It’s also natural for her to want to fit in with her friends, and they all want to dress like that Madonna woman.”

  June snorted.

  “Yes, she’s awful,” continued Ellie. “But she’s bold and provocative, and kids are drawn to that sort of thing. Especially the more outgoing or rebellious types. Like, Meredith has no interest in following these crazy trends, but lately all Melody talks about is dying her hair pink.”

  June looked at her incredulously. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Sure, why not? I mean, I haven’t been able to convince Jeff, though, so, for now, she’ll have to be satisfied with the hot pink scrunchies and the lime-green happy face earrings she put on her Christmas list.”

  “I still can’t believe you let her get her ears pierced. She’s only ten!”

  “It really isn’t that big a deal.” Ellie sighed. “See, June? This is my point. The bigger deal you make out of stuff like this, the more important it becomes to kids, and the more they want to push back. You can’t die on every hill. You have to pick your battles carefully.” She looked down at her coffee mug and fiddled with the handle. Without looking up, she said, “Are you going to let Cynthia go to the winter dance?”

  She could feel June staring at her. “She’s too young,” she said in a clipped tone.

  Ellie looked up, chewing her lip. June was an attractive woman—glossy, dark-brown hair, wide, gray eyes, high cheekbones, a slender heart-shaped face. And she looked unassuming in her long denim dress and white Keds. But there was something fierce about her. In spite of her tiny stature, her flinty gaze could cut right through the biggest person and make them feel small. Ellie took a deep breath in.

  “June, all her friends are going.”

  June arched an eyebrow. “And if all her friends were jumping off a bridge—”

  “Okay, okay.” Ellie waved her hand in the air. “Just hear me out a minute. Now, this isn’t an MTV music video. This is a middle school dance. All the boys stand terrified on one side of the room, and all the girls stand terrified on the other side. They practically have to be forced to come close to each other.”

  “Then, what is the point of her going?”

  “The point is that it’s a big social event. In fact, it’s the big social event. It’s important to her. You know she’s had a hard time adjusting to middle school. This will help. She and her friends will wear fancy dresses, giggle, tell each other how pretty they are, and make a nice memory.”

  “I don’t want her placing a lot of importance on popularity.”

  Ellie huffed. “It’s not about being popular. I don’t care about popularity, and I never have. I was the school weirdo all my life. But the thing is, I was happy being the school weirdo. I hung out with my weird hippie artist friends, and we all had a groovy time. But Cynthia’s different. She isn’t happy being left out. She’s bubbly, and fun, and friendly, and likes to be a part of everything that’s going on. She’s Henry! Just, you know, shorter. And in a dress.”

  “And that’s all this dance is about? Spreading her social butterfly wings? Can’t she do that some other way?”

  Ellie squirmed in June’s hard wooden dining chair. “Well, there is . . . a boy.” She picked up her mug quickly and took a long, drawn-out sip.

  “A boy? What boy?”

  “A cute little boy named Adam, with big puppy-dog eyes and very nice manners.”

  Adam,” June murmured. “Do I know his mother?”

  Ellie shook her head. “He’s new in town. And his father’s raising him alone.”

  “Oh,” said June, with a sad sigh. Then she eyed Ellie suspiciously. “How do you know all of this?”

  “Well, Cindy and Adam may or may not have walked by my house together on the way home from school the other day. And I may or may not have pulled her aside later to ask about him.” She shrugged. “It seemed like something you might want to know more about.”

  June gave Ellie a small approving smile. But then her eyes darkened, and she furrowed her brow, clearly putting two and two together. “Cynthia put you up to this!” she said. “She asked you to convince me!”

  Ellie flinched. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. She did ask if I would talk to you. And I said I would. Now, you know I wouldn’t go to bat for her for just any old reason. I happen to think this is important.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?”

  “Yes, I do. It would mean the world to her. You can chaperone, if you like. I’ll do it with you.”

  “Is Meredith going?”

  “No. Dances aren't really her thing.”

  “You’ll chaperone with me, even if she doesn’t go?”

  “Of course! It will be fun. We’ll serve punch and watch all the awkwardness.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll think about it.”

  Ellie accepted that as a win. Then she wisely changed the subject. “I like this coffee blend. What is it?”

  “It’s a specific mixture of Folgers and Maxwell House.”

  “Interesting. It’s my favorite so far. You’re getting closer to your goal of making the perfect pot of coffee!”

  June smiled broadly, all her features softening. “Thank you!”

  Ellie
nodded and smiled herself. “I’m so glad you’re using real brewed coffee now instead of instant.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “Really? You didn’t even like the mixture of Taster’s Choice and General Foods International Swiss mocha?”

  Ellie made a face.

  “Huh,” said June. “That combination was Henry’s favorite.”

  “I always think natural is better,” said Ellie. “I mean, who knows how they make instant coffee, or what they put in that General Foods stuff.”

  “True. If only there were a fast and easy way to research these kinds of things.”

  “Yeah, if only.”

  June took a long sip of coffee. “You may be right,” she said, after a moment of contemplation. “This is really good. Instant coffee does kind of taste like it’s made through a dirty sock.”

  “That’s exactly what it tastes like!”

  They both laughed. Then Ellie looked at her watch. “Oh, it’s almost time for General Hospital!”

  June folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. “Can’t. Too much to do. There’s a PTA meeting this afternoon, and I have to stuff and stamp the Christmas party invitations today if I want to stay on schedule. They have to go out in tomorrow’s mail. People need at least two weeks to respond. I want to give them three. Plus, I have to mend Jase ’s elf costume and get dinner made.”

  “But June! Don’t you want to see Frisco and Felicia take on the Asian mob?”

  June hesitated, and her shoulders dropped. “Yeah.”

  Ellie tilted her head and looked at June. “How about this. You go get the invitations, and I will help you stuff and stamp them while we watch the show. And I will mend Jase ’s costume for you.”

  “You don’t sew!”

  “No, but I have a really nice glue gun.”

  “Glue gun!”

  “Yep.” Ellie grinned at her friend. “It’s a school parade. No one is going to notice among a crowd of fourth-grade elves that one of them has a seam that is glued and not sewn.”

  June grimaced. “Well, I guess . . .”

  “Great!” said Ellie. “And you know what? I’m going to help you with the party, too.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. Consider it my Christmas gift.”

  “But—”

  Eliie shook her head. “You have too much on your plate, and you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. At this rate you’ll be fried by Christmas, and you won’t even be able to enjoy the holiday. My house is already decorated, and, as usual, Jeff had all the presents wrapped and neatly stacked in the closet by Halloween. And I don’t start my art classes back up until January.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sure, I’m sure! It will be fun!”

  June smiled, looking more like herself than she had in a week. “Well, okay! I’ll make another pot of coffee and get some popcorn started on the stove. Then I’ll grab the invitations. You go put the show on.”

  “Yay!” Ellie went to turn on June’s ancient TV. As she flipped the dials, she said, “You know, this would go a lot faster if you’d get one of those new models with a remote control.”

  “Nonsense. That TV works just fine.”

  A little while later, they were side by side on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them.

  “Oh, Frisco, why?” said Ellie. She turned to June. “Do you think he and Felicia will ever get their act together and make it official?”

  “I really hope so,” said June. “I guess only time will tell. Oh, popcorn’s empty, let’s wash up and get started on those envelopes.”

  “You betcha!” said Ellie, as she wiped popcorn crumbs from the embroidery on her Bohemian polyester shirt.

  “You will wash your hands first, though, right?”

  “Right.”

  Two

  June

  Just as the General Hospital episode was reaching its thrilling climax, the doorbell rang.

  June stood up, frowning and grumbling. She lingered in front of the TV as long as she could, wishing there was some way to pause the thing. Then, finally, she went to the door.

  She peered out the peephole and sighed.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Krantz?” she said, as she opened the door.

  Mr. Krantz stood there, pale-blue eyes blazing, heavily-jowled face scarlet. Even the sections of scalp that peeked out from under his combover were red.

  She heard a small howl, and looked down to see Cynthia’s calico cat Pinky clenched in his fleshy hands, looking at her with round, pitiful eyes. He held Pinky out disdainfully, his long, thin lips pursed into a grimace. The cat howled again. “I believe this . . . thing belongs to you.” June gathered Pinky into her arms and stroked her fur. She wasn’t overly fond of cats, but she did feel bad for the creature.

  She glared at Mr. Krantz. “What exactly is the problem?”

  “The problem is that cats are vermin,” he said. “I don’t know why anyone keeps them as pets. And this particular cat has been prowling around my house, hunting birds in my trees, and leaving dead mice on my doorstep.”

  “So, doing cat things.”

  He turned even redder. “It has been clinging to my window screen and terrifying my parakeet.”

  “Well, can’t you move the cage away from the window?”

  “Peanut likes to look outside! And why should I move my bird to accommodate your cat?

  June didn’t have a good answer for that. Which was just as well, because Mr. Krantz didn’t wait for one.

  “And, on top of everything, I just caught that pest digging in my flower beds,” he growled.

  “It’s winter.”

  “What difference does that make? My garden—” He stopped and looked away, but not before she caught a flicker of feeling in his eyes. “My garden is carefully tended at all times of the year. Unlike your cat.”

  “Well, it’s a cat, Mr. Krantz. How do you propose I contain it?”

  “Not my problem, missy.”

  June bristled. “Well, your parakeet and your precious dirt are not my problem.”

  He wagged a finger at her. “If I see this menace in my yard again, I will trap it and bring it to the pound myself.”

  “You would take a little girl’s cat to the pound?”

  As if she could understand, Pinky jumped out of June’s arms and dove under the nearby window seat.

  “I don’t care whose cat it is, lady,” Mr. Krantz said. “Keep it out of my yard, or else.”

  June’s face burned, and she inhaled sharply. “Don’t you or else me,” she said. “You’re the menace. You know that?”

  He waved his hand abruptly, as if swatting away her words. Then he opened his mouth and promptly closed it again.

  “You’re not worth it,” he muttered. Then, he turned and stomped down the porch steps and cut across June’s lawn toward his house.

  June stared after him, trembling with anger. Pinky poked her head out from underneath the window seat and mewed plaintively.

  June looked at her. “Well, I guess you’re an indoor cat, now.” She shook her head and closed the door. Then she turned around, stopping short when she saw Ellie standing by the potted plant, wringing her hands, her green eyes wide with apprehension. June had almost forgotten about her.

  “Is he gone?” Ellie whispered.

  “He’s gone.”

  “He’s horrible!”

  June glared at the door. “He sure is.”

  “Poor Pinky!” said Ellie. She crouched down and held out her hands, and the cat strutted right up to her. Ellie stroked her colorful fur, then picked her up and cradled her like a child. “No one’s going to let that mean old man take you away,” she said. Then she cooed at Pinky and scratched under her chin. June watched for a moment, wondering if she might start singing the creature a lullaby next. She didn’t. Instead she looked up at June, her eyes full of worry.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” June frowned. “I’m getting
so tired of this. That miserable man is impossible to live next to. He chased Jase off his lawn with a rake the other day. You know how Jase loves being outside and looking for wildlife. He was trying to catch sight of a cardinal in one of Mr. Krantz’s trees, and forgot to think about where he was walking. Poor boy came home crying.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Yes. Henry was so upset. He went over there to talk some sense into Mr. Krantz, but he slammed the door in his face.”

  “In Henry’s face? I can’t even imagine it.”

  June nodded slowly. “I wonder why Mr. Krantz is so mean and bitter.”

  “Me, too,” said Ellie. “Maybe if we knew why, we could come up with some way to change things.”

  “Maybe.” She walked to the side window and gazed at Mr. Krantz’s lawn, chewing her lip. “Oh, there’s Jase on his way home from school.”

  Ellie joined her at the window, and they both watched as June’s youngest came trudging down the sidewalk with slow, ambling steps, his face turned up to the sky.

  “The boy literally has his head in the clouds!” said June. “And look how he’s dragging his backpack behind him! She furrowed her brow. “It’s a Jansport, too. We just bought it in September. At this rate it won’t last until the end of the school year.”

  “He’s a dreamer, June. The world needs dreamers.”

  “And dreamers need backpacks without holes if they're ever going to get anything done.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Jase snapped out of his reverie the moment he reached Mr. Krantz’s house. After a nervous glance sideways, he quickly crossed the street and kept walking down the opposite sidewalk.

  “Poor boy,” said Ellie sadly.

  June’s chest tightened. “Yes.”

  “Well,” said Ellie. “If he’s on his way home, so is Melody. Of course, she probably hasn’t even left school yet. She and her friends stand around talking, giggling, and braiding each other’s hair. So adorable.” She sighed. “She’ll be another twenty minutes at least, but I’d still better get home. I’m trying out a new lentil soup recipe for dinner, and you know I have no head for following recipes. I need to study them five times and try them twice before I get them right.”