A Jar Full of Baby Teeth

The cat scrunched itself into a ball as Ethel roared past with the vacuum.  She finished the carpet two hours prior, and had, for a time, switched to sweeping and dusting all the hard wood surfaces for the second time that day.  But now she had returned, much to the cat’s disapproval, with a new nozzle affixed to the end of the vacuum hose, going over, around, under, between, and beside every object in the room.  Earl, eating an apple, watched her from the living room doorway.

“Pep,” he said, mouth half-full.  The nasal bellow of the electric motor drowned out his voice.

“Pep!” he shouted, again to no avail.

Earl put his hand on Ethel’s shoulder, and she jumped.  The noise from her vacuum cleaner wound down to stillness, and the cat scurried over to bat at it with her paws.  “Shoo!  Shoo!” Ethel cried, then turned around and squinted at Earl through inch-thick lenses.  Her face contorted into an enormous grin that she’d been wearing on and off throughout the past week.  Her magnified eyes were smiling. 

“You’re gonna suck the carpet right off its glue,” Earl said, then took an enormous bite of his apple. 

“Oh, stop.  Everything has to be just right today.  I’m just being thorough,” said Ethel melodically. 

“What time is everyone arriving again?” Earl mumbled.

“They said two, so, three, I imagine.  Don’t eat that in here!”

Ethel smacked Earl in his apple arm with the side of the black plastic tube.  Earl threw his hands up and backed into the doorway, still chewing.

“Fine!  Fine.  You’re the boss, Pep.  I’m just saying, is all.  I’ve met drill sergeants who wouldn’t make a mouthy cadet clean this place any more than it already is.”  Earl ran a finger over the molding of the door.  “I can see myself in the finish!”

      Ethel clicked the hose extension into its plastic port on the rear of the vacuum and shoved the whole thing into a bare corner of the room, not yet ready to commit to putting it away entirely.  Instead, she walked over to the immaculately decorated tree in the opposing corner and admired its shiny ornaments and twinkly white lights, swirled round with a single gossamer strand of tinsel.  She reached down and lifted an aerosol can from its hiding place beneath a low branch, and began spraying the area with a thick fog of pine-scented perfume.

“Ah geez, with that again!” said Earl.  “I can barely breathe.  Ugh, I can taste it!”

“I told you we should have gotten a real tree this year.  Do you think anyone will be upset it isn’t a real tree?”

“It’s all over my apple!” said Earl, who hurried out of the room waving his hands in front of his face. 

     Ethel followed her husband into the kitchen, and snickered as he grumbled and tossed his half-eaten fruit into the wastebasket.  She came up behind him and wrapped her stubby arms around Earl’s gut as far as they would go.  They stopped at the front of his suspenders, and she snapped them with her thumbs.

“I am being silly, aren’t I?” said Ethel with a sigh.  “But it’s been so long since the whole family has gotten together.  Tell me I’m not being silly, Earl.”

     Earl rolled his eyes, but then looked at her and smiled.  “Of course not.  You’ve done a great job, though.  This is a time to relax.  You’re gonna work yourself to death.  Then I’ll be the one left explaining to the kids why Grandma Pep is dead in a heap on the floor by the presents.”

“Stop, you’re being terrible.  Don’t talk like that.  Don’t even joke like that.  I’m not so old that I can’t be useful.  I’m not so horrible.  I should be allowed to work.”

“We need some music in here,” Earl said.  “Don’t you think we could use some music?”  Without waiting for a response, he flicked a switch on the clock radio.  Bing Crosby’s voice flooded the room. 

“I never liked that man,” said Ethel. 

“You’re not useless, you know,” said Earl, opening a cabinet.

“He was so horrible to those children of his,” said Ethel. 

“You’re the most active person I know our age.  You did a really great job on this old place.  Really truly.  It’s just…” 

“He had such a beautiful home though.  I once read…” 

“Back in our day,” Earl interjected, “not as many people lived to seventy as they do now.  All of my grandparents passed on in their sixties.  But the ones who stuck around were the ones who knew how to take a break every now and then, from what I can recall.  Enjoyed themselves on the holidays.  I remember my uncle Gene, now that’s a man that knew how to relax.”

“My father worked every day of his life, and he’d still be working if he could!”

“You can’t judge other people based Herman.  They broke the mold after that one, I tell ya.  He’s still coming today, right?”

“His nurse said he’s been insisting.  Anyway, what’s so wrong about taking pride in my home?  This home is all I have,” said Ethel. 

Earl looked at her and cocked his head.  His eyes were warm, but he was having trouble concealing his frustration.

“You’re just making me nervous buzzing around like this, like a little hummingbird zipping back and forth.  I feel like I’m outta breath just watching you.  You made this place spotless, now just enjoy it for a few.  Besides, isn’t pride a sin?”

     Earl shuffled over to the icebox, pulled out a few cubes, and dropped them into their two nicest tumblers.  He poured Ethel’s favorite scotch into the glasses and passed one to her.  “You earned this,” he said.  She accepted, and gave Earl’s glass a reluctant clink while unsubtly scanning the kitchen for any signs of a hidden mess she may have missed.  Her shoulders were wound tight, but she loosened up a bit after forcing herself to take a sip.  She exhaled, and her arms dropped almost a full inch. 

“I noticed you put out an extra place setting.  I take it your new friend is coming,” said Earl.

“She has no place else to go.  She was such a help to me.  Please just be nice.”

“You know I will, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand that woman.  She’s just…”

“I do hope Thomas and Jessica are pleasant towards each other this year,” Ethel blurted out.  “I know it’s been some time since they’ve seen one another, but not so long that they won’t remember the last time we were all together.”

“Good, I hope they do.  Maybe they’ll remember what fools they made of themselves,” Earl replied.  The silence that followed lingered.

“Stop it, Earl.  Please, I just want this to be perfect.”

“I’m sorry, dear.  I know.  I know you do.  Everything will be just fine.”

“Things haven’t been fine in so long.  My leg itches,” said Ethel, scratching at the cuff of her pants.

“You’ll get used to it, dear.  Now just relax.”

     The cat mewed and licked its paws. 

     An hour later, the bell rang for the first time that day, followed by a series of impulsive, repetitive pounds on the door.  Earl could hear a man and woman’s muffled hollering through the wood and glass. 

“Your father’s here, darling.”

“Oh!  Goodness!  Let him in!  Let him in!” Ethel said. 

     Earl opened the door to find an enormous black woman with a Caribbean accent engaged in a shouting match with a tiny, bald, bowling-pin of a man, almost hovering above his wheelchair.  As soon as the two noticed the open door, they both looked up with smiles spread across their cheeks.

“Earlyboy!  How the fuck are ya’, ya big fuckin’ lug!  Come here and give your old-man-in-law a hug!”  His voice rattled like marbles in a blender.  Earl leaned over, and Herman grabbed him with a strength that seemed impossible for a man of his stature and condition. 

“Hey dad!  I’ll never get over the mouth on you Marines!”

“That’s just cuz you Army boys are a bunch of silly faggots!” said Herman, and punched Earl in the arm.  “Can’t hang with the real men.  Nah, you’re alright, you’re alright.”

Earl smiled.  “And you must be his new nurse, Miss…”

“Anilaxa.”

“Anilaxa.  Nice to meet you.” 

Anilaxa widened her smile, and Earl leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

“Easy now, Army boy!  That’s my wife you’ve got your hands on.”

“Come on with the jokes, Herman.  Let the nice lady do her job.”

     Earl held the door while Anilaxa wheeled Herman inside, and found Ethel waiting for him with open arms.  She threw her arms around his wispy shoulders.

“Daddy!  It’s so good to see you!  It’s been so long!”  Ethel began to tear up.  “I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you again.”

“The devil’s not looking forward to getting this hellion down there, I tell you what right now.  I ain’t going nowhere.”

“Healthy as an Oxen,” Anilaxa beamed.  “A little too healthy if you ask me.”

     Herman laughed loud and smacked Anilaxa on her ample backside. 

“Mister Herman!” she cooed playfully.  “Stop it now, you’re embarrassing yourself!” They wrestled for a moment with one another, and soon began kissing passionately. 

Earl and Ethel glanced at one another as the giggling and slurping noises went on for what seemed like a full minute.  Herman looked up and laughed, Anilaxa’s long red nails stroking his chin.

“What, did you think I was bullshitting you or something?  I was tired of having my grandkids pay for someone to take care of me, so I bought the cow!  Ethel, meet your new mother!”

“I brought doubles and fried conch for the feast,” said Anilaxa, beaming.  “And pholourie for the children.”  She handed the warm trays to Earl. 

     Before Earl and Ethel had a chance to unpack this, the doorbell rang again.  Ethel ran to answer it in a haze as Earl led his in-laws into the living room, and parked them in front of a small tray of Ritz crackers smeared with wine cheese.  The cat leapt up to greet them, purring, and Anilaxa took it in her arms and stroked it as Herman rubbed her back.  All three took a cheese cracker and chewed through the gluey spread in silence until Ethel returned.

“Earl, your daughter is here!” Ethel announced, just prior to entering the room. 

“Yes, I am certainly here,” said Jessica, rolling her eyes.  “Here I am.”  She waved at the crowd using only her hand and forearm, elbow locked at her waist.  Earl ran to greet her and gave her a hug.  Jessica tapped the small of his back, again without raising her forearm above her hips. 

“Hi, dad.”

“She could have dressed up a little more, I think,” said Ethel.

“Thanks, mom.”

“You look like that Garth from the Saturday Night Live, with those glasses and that shirt.  That’s a man’s shirt!  A lady wears a dress to a family event.”

“Nice to see you, too, mom.”  Jessica sat next to Anilaxa. 

“Hi, I’m Jessica.”

“Pleased to be meeting you, beautiful girl!  I’m your new grandmother,” replied Anilaxa.

“Where are my manners?” Ethel said, before Jessica could respond.  “Can I fetch anyone a drink?  Pepsi maybe?”

“I’ll take a sloe gin fizz with a scotch chaser,” Herman grumbled.

“Mister Herman!  What about your colon?  Who’s gonna have to be the one to clean up after you, drinking all that?” Anilaxa turned toward Jessica and, with a cupped hand by her mouth, whispered: “He’s come down with the angry bowels, your grandfather.  Woo!”  She brushed her hand back and forth in front of her nose.  Jessica smiled politely and let out something approximating a friendly laugh, then pulled her phone out of her bag.

The doorbell rang again.  Jessica shot bolt upright.  

“Don’t worry, I got it!” she said, and ran out of the room.

     She opened the door and found her brother Thomas, handsome and tall as ever, holding a stack of perfectly wrapped gifts.  His wife smiled at his side with her hands on the shoulders of their two boys, both of whom seemed lost in concentration as they clicked the screens of their identical tablet computers. 

“Hey sis.  How is it in there?”

“Ask your new grandmother.”

“Do I even want to know?”

     Jessica breathed in deep, then hugged her two nephews and shook her sister-in-law’s hand.  “Missy.  Been a while.  And wow!  Xander and Tommy Junior!  Look at you two!  You guys got so big!  Zee, last time I saw you, you were like five!  It makes me feel old.”

“You are old.  What are you, like thirty-five?” said Xander, without bothering to look up at her.

“Yeah, it’s Miles now,” said Thomas Junior in a quiet, serious tone, lifting his head just enough for Jessica to catch the look of disdain in his eyes.  “Where’s the chips and soda?  I’m hungry.” 

The two children pushed past Jessica and into the house.  From the doorway, the adults clearly heard Xander shout “Grandma Pepsi!  Whaddya got for us??”  Jessica looked up at Thomas.

“Miles?” she asked.

“He’s at that age, I guess.  Let’s just get inside.”

“Whoa!  Hold it, Charlie!  Wait a minute now!  Hold the door!” yelled a gravelly voice from the driveway.  A stocky lady with short-cropped gray hair and a Hawaiian shirt wheeled a suitcase up the driveway with a lit cigarette between her lips.  She stepped between Tom and Jess as she backed her suitcase up the concrete steps, grunting and complaining all the while.  She shoved by them without offering a formal introduction, and pitched her cigarette into the bushes as she stepped through the door.

“New friend of mom’s, I’m guessing,” said Tom. 

“Have fun in there,” said Jess with a sneer, as she sat on the top step and lit a cigarette of her own.

Missy held the door open and Thomas followed her inside.  The smoky smell wafting off the lady’s hung jacket filled the foyer.  Tom hung his coat on the hook furthest from it. He could already hear a commotion coming from within as introductions and greetings were being made, causing him to clench his eyes involuntarily.  His wife placed a hand on his forearm and attempted to form a smile that fizzled out halfway. 

“Tom, I can hear you gnashing your teeth together.”

“Over that commotion?”

“We told your dad we’d come,” said Missy.

“Yeah, you did.  Here, let me take that.” 

Thomas hung Missy’s coat closer to the woman’s than his own, and they stepped through the door and dropped the presents into the pile of boxes beneath the tree.  The sound of Herman’s laughter hit their ears as they entered the den, and both shouted in unison as they saw Xander punch the old man in the arm.  Missy ran over and grabbed her son, who whined in protest, and Herman began to shout at her.

“Whattaya doing to the poor kid?”

“You have to stop hitting people, Xander,” Missy said in a toothless, wilted tone of voice.  Xander jerked his arm from her grasp, throwing her off balance.

“I told him to!” said Herman. “Kid’s got a long way to go if he ever wants to take down this old sumbitch!” 

Herman cupped his knotty-knuckled hands by his mouth like a megaphone.  “I barely felt that, ya little nancy boy! You better man up by the next time I see you.  You’re almost big enough where I’m gonna start hitting you back, soon!”  Xander put his fists in the air and shadowboxed at the old man from afar, eyes glinting with mischief and delight.  Herman turned toward Missy and slapped her abdomen with the back of his hand.  “What are you feeding these kids?  He’s got no oomph in that skinny little body.” 

Missy leaned in close. 

“Herman, please, we’re trying to teach him not to hit.  He’s impressionable.”

Anilaxa let go of the cat and smacked Herman hard in the back of the head.  “Listen to the lady, Mister Herman!  What kind of man has to be trying to be such a big shot, at your age and everything?  Only when you’re being around all these people!”

“Is everything okay out there?” Ethel shouted from the kitchen. 

She peaked her head out from the doorway and squealed upon spotting Thomas and Missy.  She ran over to them, hands clad in oven mitts, and wrapped her arms around the two hard enough to leave bruises.  She looked up at Thomas and put an oven mitt-clad hand to the side of his face.

“Let me see you!  It’s been so long!  My handsome boy!  You haven’t aged a day.”

“Was my hair this gray last time you saw me?  Good God.”

“Oh, stop.  Come, come!  I want you to meet someone!”

     Ethel took Tom by the hand and dragged him into the kitchen, and Missy did the same with Xander.  The air in the kitchen was perfumed with sage and burnt tobacco, warm and humid with evaporated chicken stock.  The woman from the driveway stood hovering over the stovetop, licking her fingers greedily.  Ethel walked over and smacked her hand. 

“Joanne!  Be patient!” laughed Ethel.

     “Don’t tell me what to do, ya old bitch!  I’ll tell you what’s what!” barked Joanne, throaty as a motorcycle’s engine. 

“Joanne, this is my son that I told you about.  Thomas, meet Joanne.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Tom dubiously. 

“I dunno, I don’t see it, Ethel.”

“See what?” said Missy.

“She always told me he looked like Tom Bosley.”

“A young Tom Bosley, when he was handsome!” cooed Ethel with pride. 

“Tom Bosley?” asked Missy.

“The dad from Happy Days.  Mom, you know I hate when you say that.  I look nothing like him!  I’ve told you this before: Please stop telling people I look like Tom Bosley.”

“Oh, you never took flattery well,” said Ethel with a laugh.  “Just take the compliment, and don’t be so rude.  Introduce yourself to Joanne!”

“Call me Joe,” said Joanne, lunging at Tom with a powerful handshake.  “Pleased to meet ya.”

“Joanne was such a help to me,” said Ethel.

“Your mom’s a good kid.  I took her under my wing.”

“Just such a help.”

“What’s with the suitcase?” asked Tom.

Ethel, pretending not to have heard him, tended to the food on her stove.  The cat entered the room, pupils dilated with overstimulation, and began running back and forth between tables and chairs, eventually leaping up to the Formica countertop adjacent to the stove.  She walked toward the range with her tail upright, fur puffed, and reached a tentative paw into one of the steaming pots.  Ethel deftly knocked her to the floor and chased her until she hid under the chair where Joanne was sitting.  Xander started crawling toward her, belly rubbing against the linoleum, but returned to his mother a moment later and tugged at her shirt.  He whispered loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“Mom, that lady smells weird.”

“Xander!  I’m so sorry.  Please, he doesn’t mean it.  Just, he’s at that age.”

     Joanne leaned over and rubbed Xander’s head, leaving a knotted mess of hair in her wake. 

“What a snotty little prick!  I love it.  Don’t take shit from no one, kid.”

     Xander laughed hard, snorting.

“Prick!” he shouted.  “Prick!  Prii-iii-iiick!”  Xander sang as he skipped through the room.  “I like your friend, Grandma Pepsi.  She’s funny.  Can I have some soda now?  And when can we do presents?  Do you have any cookies?”

“Dear, could you?” said Thomas through his teeth.

“Go play with your brother, honey,” said Missy, guiding her son through the doorway with her hands.  “I’ll get you something to drink.”

“Grandma Pepsi?” asked Joanne, raising an eyebrow.

“My mom was Grandma Coke and Ethel’s Grandma Pepsi.  You get it.  Kids, you know?” said Missy, pouring two glasses of Pepsi over ice, and a heavy glass of red wine for herself. 

“Never much cared for kids, myself.  But that one’s got spunk.”

“I think opening gifts is a fabulous idea,” said Ethel.

“Dinner still has about a half-hour to go.  Missy, be a dear and gather everyone.  I’d like to speak to Tom for a moment.

     Missy, ever accommodating, downed half of her glass in a gulp and left her husband and mother-in-law to their conversation.  When she entered the den, she observed that Jessica was still absent, and walked to the porch to find her still sitting in the cold, surrounded by cigarette butts.  Jessica’s head was angled down toward the phone in her lap, and wore the same perpetually bored look Missy had come to expect from her. 

“Hey, your mom sent me to rally the troops.  Gift time.”

“Exciting.  What do you think she got for the two of us this year?”

“Last time,” said Missy, “She gave me a book on housekeeping from the 40s.”

“She’s not great at subtlety.  The last gifts I remember getting from her were a diet book and a gift certificate to Layne Bryant.”

Missy laughed and sat beside her sister-in-law.

“I meant to mention it before, you look good.”

“I just don’t have time to eat anymore.  New York, y’know?  There’s always someone trying to work a little harder than you.”

     Jess waggled her phone in her hand. 

“Busy is better than bored, trust me.”

“Yeah.  Shall we?” asked Jessica.

     The two women sat silent for a moment, then stood.

“What do you think she got for Tom this year?” asked Jessica.

“I don’t think she can go shopping.”

“She can shop online.”

“Your mom?”

“Good point.  Let’s get this over with.”

     When they returned to the den, they discovered the rest of the party seated in a semi-circle around the tree.  The children were already on the floor, surrounded by boxes and torn paper and a well-entertained cat.  Missy stared at Thomas, and his eyes apologized.  He looked as if about to speak, but before he could form the words, Ethel butt in.

“There you two are!  We couldn’t find you anywhere!  I didn’t want to keep the children waiting, so I told them to go ahead and open their gifts.  I hope you don’t mind.  Now sit!  Sit!”

     Missy said nothing, but glanced back at her husband for a moment.  No chairs were brought for them, so she and Jessica sat on the floor where they had stood. 

“Is there anything left for us?” said Tommy Junior. 

“Think fast!” said Herman from across the room, tossing the boy a small package too quickly for him to catch.  It bounced off his head.

“Ow!”

“Are you okay?” Missy exclaimed, rushing to her son.

“Gotta work on those reflexes, kiddo!” Herman said, laughing.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Missy asked Herman sharply.

“Don’t look at me.  He shoulda caught that!”

“Chill out mom, I’m fine,” said Tommy Junior, embarrassed.  “It just bumped me, that’s all.”

“Think fast!” shouted Xander.  “Think fast!” 

     Xander threw a ball of wrapping paper at his brother’s face and flew into a bout of unrestrained laughter.  His brother leapt at him and they began to wrestle, but calmed when their father threatened to give their gifts to charity.  The two boys separated themselves and sat straight-backed at the very notion.  Tommy Junior opened the gift Herman had tossed to him: A catcher’s mitt. 

“Now that the children are done, let’s pass around what we got for the grown ups!” said an overenthusiastic Ethel, passing out boxes and envelopes to the adults. 

She looked over at her son. “I can’t wait to see you open yours!”

     The den became congested with the sound of crinkling paper and the reflexive oohs and ahhs of polite adults.  After a minute or so, Thomas discovered a small box wrapped in silver paper and lace ribbon.

“Mom, we all told you not to trouble yourself this year,” Tom said.

“Oh, shush.  Now, you know I couldn’t get out to shop this year, but this is something that I’ve been waiting to give you for a very long time.  It’s been very special to me, but I want you to have it.”

“But…”

“Shush!  Open it!”

     Thomas knew not to argue further.  He pulled the paper off the box carefully, like his mother always had when she opened her gifts, and found a small white box that looked like it could hold a bottle of wine.  He smiled and opened it, and from within pulled out a large mason jar wrapped in tissue paper.  He pulled away the tissue paper and peered through the glass, but couldn’t quite make out its contents.  The jar clanked as he rotated it.

“I wasn’t supposed to have this,” said Ethel, “But I convinced them to make an exception.  It was a little piece of my baby that I could keep with me.”

“What is this?” asked Thomas, searching his pockets for his glasses.

“Ew!” exclaimed Xander.

“Ah, geez,” said Earl. 

“It’s teeth!” said Tommy Junior.

“They’re your baby teeth!  I saved them all these years.”

     Thomas set the jar down, and Xander grabbed it without hesitation.

“Do you like it?” asked a smiling Ethel.

“Wait, you saved his teeth?” said Jessica, shedding her usual monotone.

“Mom, can I speak to you in the other room please?” said Thomas.

“What’s the matter dear?”

“No, wait, this is bullshit.  You saved his teeth?” said Jessica.

“In the kitchen, please.”

     Ethel and Thomas headed into the kitchen, followed by Jessica and Earl.  Earl was the first to speak.

“Now listen, your mother has had a rough go at it…”

“Not now, dad.  Mom, what the hell were you thinking?”

“You don’t like it?” said Ethel, shocked and saddened.

“We talked about this the last time I saw you!  This kind of thing is not acceptable!  It’s fucking creepy, frankly.”

“You saved his fucking teeth.”

“Jesus Christ, Jessica, can you let me speak to mom?”

“No, you shut the fuck up, Tom.  She made me put every baby tooth in the fucking trash.  You told me that teeth weren’t worth a quarter and that the tooth fairy wasn’t real.  What is wrong with you, mom?”

“Oh, you and your nonsense.  The tooth fairy isn’t real, Jessica.  I didn’t like it when you were speaking nonsense to me.”

“I was fucking five years old!  You told me my teeth weren’t worth a quarter. You saved like, every single one of his, you fucking bitch!”

     Missy leaned into the kitchen and lingered in the doorway. 

“Can everyone please keep your voices down and not swear so much?  The children.”

     The room fell silent.  Everyone in the kitchen heard Xander shouting through the doorway: “You fucking bitch!  You fucking bitch,” cracking himself up and running around the room. 

“Look, guys, can me and mom just get a minute here?”

“Yeah, you need more time with her,” said Jessica.

“Goddamnit, Jess, I don’t need your ‘me me me’ bullshit right now,” said Thomas.

“Bullshit?  I’ll tell you what’s bullshit…”

“Stop fighting, you two!” shrieked Ethel. 

“Pep, come on, let’s just calm down,” said Earl.  “When is the food gonna be done?  Should I turn the range off?”

“Earl, stop them!  They’re doing it again!  It’s just like last time!  They’re ruining everything!”

“Us?  You’re lucky I even brought my family here,” said Thomas.  “Believe me, it wasn’t my decision.  I knew it was going to be like this.  I knew you were going to do something totally crazy, I knew nothing changed.”  Thomas hushed his voice.  “And you invited that woman.  What goes through your head?”

“She was such a help to me!  She was there for me.  You never came to visit me!  How could I raise such a spiteful son?  I did everything I could!  I paid for your school, I fed you and gave you everything you wanted.”

“I had to take out a fucking loan, by the way.  Mom of the century,” said Jessica.

“Don’t throw that in my face like you worked for it, mom,” said Thomas, ignoring his sister. 

“I worked myself to the bone for my children!”

“Pep, come on.  Let’s not…”

“Shut your mouth, Earl!  The things I did for you, Thomas!  I can’t take this.  I have to leave.”

     Ethel started towards the door, but Earl grabbed her by the arm.

“Pep!  Don’t!  Everybody, just calm down.  Let’s work this out.  Just, take a breather.”

     Their quarrel paused for the moment, everyone involved looked at the floor or the ceiling with heavy breaths, not a word between them.  Xander’s commotion from the den had apparently yet to end, and his shouting and running once again became the only sound in the house.  Thomas reached for a bottle of scotch and poured a glass, and Ethel sat in a chair and began weeping softly.  Earl laid his hands on her shoulder.  Ethel started scratching at her ankle.

“This goddamn thing.  This goddamn thing.  It’s digging into my skin, Earl.”

“It’s okay, Pep.  Come on, now.”

“Good, let it be a reminder of what you did to my family, mom.  You know how hard it was to explain to my kids when they locked you up?”

     Thomas lifted his glass, then placed it empty on the counter.  He poured another and looked at his wife.

“Get your things.  This was a mistake.”

“Thomas, no!  Don’t leave!  I haven’t seen you in so long!” shouted Ethel.

“Who’s fault is that?”

     Thomas threw back his second glass, and slammed it down on the counter.  Ethel’s whimpers were coming in hills and valleys as he stepped toward the door.  Missy grabbed him by the arm.  Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a sudden outburst from the living room: “You fucking bitch!  Think fast, prick!”  The unmistakable shatter of glass rang through house like a gunshot, and screams from the den soon followed.

“Mister Herman!  Mister Herman!  Somebody, call an ambulance!  Call 911!”

     Everyone in the kitchen hurried into the den to find Herman slumped in his wheelchair, face and torso covered in blood.  His mouth was a hollow of gums, and strewn across the floor were shards of glass, shattered dentures, and baby teeth.  Xander was crying in his brother’s arms, repeating the words “I’m sorry” between sobs.  The cat was hiding beneath the Christmas tree, tail whipping from side to side.  Anilaxa was huddled over her husband, tending to him and shouting for help. 

Instinct kicked in, and Thomas rushed to grab his sons.  Clumsy with whiskey and adrenaline, he stomped on the cat’s tail in his haste.  She let out a piercing yelp and began to scratch at the tree, its claws piercing the length of ribbon encircling the branches.  As she sped from the room, her claws pulled at the tinsel hard, stripping the tree of its needles and scattering nearly all of the ornaments that Ethel had hung so carefully.  Many of them were made from old, delicate glass, and they burst into tiny fragments upon hitting the hard floor, throwing sharp red and green shards into the mélange of teeth and blood and broken glass.  Thomas clumsily lifted his younger son, then grabbed his older son’s hand and ran them out of the room.  As he did so, his elbow clipped a sturdy branch, causing the tree to topple.

     Earl ran to the kitchen to grab the cordless phone, and found the room filling with smoke from a small grease fire that had ignited in a cast iron pan; Pep had not turned the burners off.  He dialed 911, but just as he connected to an operator, the fire alarm began to blare, and he couldn’t make out a word she was saying.  He filled a glass of water and tossed it at the flame, which fired out an eruption that engulfed the ceiling and began to spread.  The blast singed off his eyebrows, burning his face just bad enough to shock him.  He ran back into the den and shouted: “Fire!  Everybody get out!”  Anilaxa saw the smoke and wheeled the unconscious Herman out the front door with a swiftness that seemed impossible for her large frame, followed soon after by everybody else.  They were all yelling so loud.

     The family and their guest gathered together on the front lawn and watched as more and more black smoke rose from the open door.  The kitchen window glowed, painting the snow-covered lawn bright orange.  Missy held her children as Thomas ran around the huddle counting heads.  Jessica lit a cigarette, and shouted at her brother as she saw him run toward the door of the house.  

“What are you doing?  Don’t go in there!”

“Mom!  Where’s mom?” Thomas said, hyperventilating.  “Mom’s not out here!”

     He shouted into the doorway as loud as his overworked diaphragm would allow, but heard nothing in response.  As he prepared to run back into the house, he heard his father cry out and paused.

“Ethel!  No!  Your bracelet!”

     Suddenly, Thomas found himself awash in the glow of headlights.  He looked to the driveway, and saw his mother in the seat of Earl’s pickup truck, backing out.  She crushed the hood of Thomas’ BMW with a loud clunk, then cut the wheel hard and drove over the lawn and into the street, blind with tears.  The engine growled as she attempted to figure out the clutch and dragged off in the wrong gear.  Thomas ran after.

“Mom!  Come back!  Your ankle bracelet!  You can’t do this!  Don’t leave!”

     Ethel heard none of it.  She wiped her eyes and blew through every stop sign along the straight, narrow road.  In the rear view mirror, she could see the flash of tiny red and blue lights, illuminating every house on the block.  They shrunk and faded from view, and she kept driving without a destination in mind.  When the lights reemerged behind her, she knew in her heart that nothing would ever be fine again.