Merrily Yours (The Bardot Siblings)

Chapter 2

“Christmas is a box of tree ornaments that have become part of the family."— Charles M. Schulz

I left my sleeping wife in bed this morning as I slipped into my fleece lined house shoes and made my way to the kitchen. It’s quiet this early, but the house feels more alive when some of the kids are staying here. I have a feeling Bex, Anders, and Ben will sleep as late as Elaine. Jules is the only one who has ever gotten up with me, but he won’t spend the night here until Christmas Eve. Elodie might join me soon, but she’s a pretty good sleeper, too.

I brew a large pot of coffee and grab the paper off the front porch. All Sassafras residents get their town gossip from the Sassafras Gazette —a paper that is as old as the town itself. I like that we still get a physical paper, so I get my town news from that and then read The New York Times on my iPad when I want real news.

Settling into a stool at the kitchen island, I open the paper and start reading. My phone chimes next to me, and I look at it to see a text from Julien asking if I’m awake. I’m not a big texter, so I pick up the phone and call him instead.

“Obviously, that’s a yes,” he answers.

I laugh at the moodiest of my four children. “Yes, Julien, I’m awake. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I wanted to come over and have coffee there but didn’t want to wake you if you were sleeping in.”

“I can’t remember the last time I slept in,” I reply. “Come over, Son. I’ll have a mug ready for you.”

“Thanks, Dad. Anyone else up?”

“You know the answer to that question.”

He huffs. “Yeah, I do. Okay, well I’ll see you in a bit. Need me to grab anything on the way over?”

“No, I was going to make some cinnamon rolls, but we have all the ingredients. See you soon.”

We hang up right as the first pot of coffee finishes brewing. I grab a mug from our collection of mismatched holiday cups and savor the rich aroma that comes with the first sip of coffee of the day. There’s nothing quite like it. Bex, Jules, and I drink our coffee black—as God intended. I pull another mug down for Jules but wait to fill it until he gets here.

I’m perusing the top stories of the day in Sassafras town news when I hear a car door slam out front. Peeking out the window, I spot Jules. His hair pulled back in his signature low bun, scowl on his face. I pour his coffee and set it on the counter in front of the stool next to me.

He lets himself in and gives my shoulder a squeeze when he gets to the kitchen.

“Thanks for making coffee,” he says, our mutual appreciation for the drink evident in his sincerity.

“Of course.” We sit in silence, both taking the occasional sip. I read the paper and Jules spends time in his own head, a place he prefers. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s wise beyond his years when he does open his mouth.

“The Sassafras Gazette says The Coffee Shop is going to be up for sale soon.”

Jules takes another sip and rolls his eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it. There’s been rumors of Ethel and Albert selling for years, and they never actually do.”

I nod. “I don’t know. This could be the time. Albert is getting older and that place could use a change of ownership…” I let the thought linger.

Looking at me out of the corner of his eye he says, “Are you implying something, Dad?”

“What would I be implying, Julien?” I ask.

“I don’t know, maybe that I should take over The Coffee Shop?”

“Wow! That’s a great idea!” I reply, really committing to the bit. “I think you would make an excellent business owner. But you are really happy in your current job, so maybe I’m way off here.”

Jules is a music teacher at the high school, and I know he’s been unhappy in that position for a while. He enjoys teaching private lessons to students who want to study their craft, practice, and improve. Most of the high school students are not that way, however, which has been incredibly draining. He’s always talked about owning a small business—giving back to the town that has given him so much.

I think he’s already doing that, but what do I know.

“The Coffee Shop does make the best coffee. Albert and Ethel should stay on, you’re right.”

“Woah woah woah. Coffee Shop coffee has gone downhill in the last few years, and you know it. They aren’t even sourcing locally anymore, and they’ve been brewing their espresso at one hundred seventy-five degrees which is twenty degrees below what’s recommended,” he rants.

I hum, knowing I won this round. “Interesting. Seems like you know a lot for someone who isn’t interested in taking over.”

He pushes up from his seat and runs a hand through his hair, messing up his bun. “I’m going to wake Ben up.” And with that, he walks out.

I spend the next several minutes finishing my coffee before getting up to preheat the oven and start on the cinnamon rolls. A grumpy Jules, an even grumpier Ben, and a beaming Elodie join me in the kitchen. Ben beelines to a spot at the table, laying his head down and almost immediately dozing back off. Jules comes to the counter next to me, Elodie in his arms, and starts a one-handed attempt at spreading the filling across the rolled out dough.

“I’m fine,” he says, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince me.

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” I counter.

“If the right opportunity came along, I would consider it. I want to continue to build a life here… I—I just feel a little directionless.”

“You’ll figure it out, Julien. I’m proud of you for listening to your heart. The right opportunity will come along, and you’ll be rewarded for your patience.”

He nods, setting El down on the counter so he can roll the dough for me to cut. The oven dings indicating it’s done preheating which causes Ben to shoot straight up. “I’m up! I’m up,” he repeats.

Jules smirks. “Sit down, you shithead. Sugar and cream in your coffee?”

Ben grins back at his twin. “You know how I like it, baby.”

It’s good to have them home.

Cinnamon rolls have been eaten, a second pot of coffee was brewed, and everyone is lazily draped across either a kitchen chair or a piece of living room furniture. Bex’s head is on my shoulder, and her coffee is resting on top of her belly. I smile because I can’t help myself. I’m so damn happy to have another baby running around. Elaine knows I would have had ten more, so it’s probably good that she forced me to get a vasectomy all those years ago.

Being a grandparent means I get all of the perks and less of the late nights. I love when we get to have Elodie over, and I will spoil this next little dinosaur rotten, too.

I sigh and I look around, cataloging my family. Anders is on the floor stacking blocks with Elodie. Gabe wandered in shortly after the cinnamon rolls finished baking—his timing has always been impeccable—and is now helping Elaine do the dishes. Jules and Ben have opened up a puzzle and are arguing about the best way to put it together. It reminds me of when they were all teenagers.

“Think everyone will be ready to go in about an hour?” I ask. There is usually slim pickings on decor and trees this late in the season, but it doesn’t feel right decorating without everyone here.

The boys all acknowledge me with nods. Bex finishes her coffee and gets up to stretch. “I think I’ll go lay down for a nap,” she says.

“Didn’t you just get up?” Ben asks, earning a glare from Anders and a smack across the back of his head from Jules.

“She’s growing a baby, dumbass,” Gabe chimes in. “She can sleep whenever the fuck she wants.”

“Language, my cabbage,” Elaine warns, looking pointedly at Elodie.

“Seriously, Mom?” he whines. “You talk about sex all the time, and I can’t say the word fuck? I’m sure El’s heard worse.”

“Seriously, Gabriel. My house, my rules.” She smirks, and we make eye contact. We both established a long time ago that we weren’t going to censor our kids, especially now that they are adults. But it’s still fun to poke at them.

“Should we start a holiday swear jar?” I suggest. “Proceeds go to the Sassafras food bank?”

“I love that idea, dear!” Elaine says. “See, boys, generosity is sexy. Your future partners will thank me.”

A collective groan rises. “That’s my cue,” Bex concludes, leaving the rest of us downstairs.

“Alright, everyone, one hour until we leave. And remember—Santa privileges are on the line. I would suggest meeting with your teammate and devising a plan,” I say.

Jules comes over to sit with Anders and Elodie, immediately pulling her into his lap. Gabe finishes the dishes and joins Ben at the table. Elaine and I smile at each other across the room, eager to watch the antics unfold.

“This is the perfect tree—I mean look at it! Excellent shape, symmetrical branches! Sure, it’s a little short but it’s better than that monstrosity!” Gabe fires.

“Are you kidding me? That thing is like four feet tall. We can’t use it as our main tree. This one is quirky, sure, but at least we can’t have a conversation over the top of it,” Jules argues.

“I agree with Jules, the taller tree is the clear winner,” Anders chimes in.

“Et tu brute?” Gabe eyes his best friend, shock written across his face.

“Let’s get both. They could look nice next to each other! Like our own little tree farm,” Ben suggests.

“I like where your head is, Ben,” I encourage, clapping my hands together. “Both it is.”

We have already loaded the car down with all manner of outdoor decorations, from lights to blow up displays to fake reindeer, so I’m not quite sure how both of these trees are getting home, but we’ll figure it out.

I pay the nice high school kid running the register, and we carry both trees to the car. The tree lot is only about a mile from our house, so the boys get to tying them down as best as possible, and then Anders and Gabe hang out either side of the back seat, arms holding them in place. When we get home, I honk several times laughing as Elaine, Bex, and Elodie scurry onto the porch.

“What in the Christmas Vacation is happening here?” Bex yells across the yard.

“We couldn’t decide on a tree!” Anders answers his wife.

“So you bought two? Is one of them for Elodie?” She tilts her head. “It looks so small.”

Simultaneously, we all look at Gabe who has his eyes narrowed at Anders. “Did you tell her to say that?” he accuses.

“When would I have been able to tell her that? I’ve been with you the whole time!”

“I haven’t been able to trust your loyalty ever since you picked her over me,” Gabe complains.

“Dude,” Anders whispers. “You know you’re always my number one Bardot man. But have you seen your sister’s ass?”

“None of us needed to hear that,” Jules replies, matter of factly.

Anders just shrugs, hopping out of the car and running to greet Bex. “How are my babies?”

“Get your head in the game, killer! If you want to be Santa, you can’t let your hot wife distract you,” she replies.

“You’re right,” he nods. “It’s just…” He leans down to kiss the top of her head. “The belly really does it for me.”

It’s all hands on deck as we unload the new items and get other decorations down from the attic. Everything is laid out on the front lawn, making it look like a Christmas garage sale is about to take place. We haven’t had a big snow yet, and the sun is shining just enough today that it’s comfortable for the girls to sit and watch the chaos for a while. They make their way across the lawn and settle into three camp chairs—we bought a kid size one for Elodie—with large mugs of hot chocolate and multiple blankets to keep them warm.

Before Bex sits down, she cups her hand around her mouth and shouts, “Let the games begin!”

Anders and Jules head toward the left side of the house while Gabe and Ben focus on the right side. It takes some time, but eventually we start to see their visions come to life. I bounce back and forth between teams, naming myself Switzerland for the sake of keeping things fair.

“Dad! Can you find a plug for this blowup?” Gabe calls across the lawn. He has now blown up seven different figures ranging from a Santa that pops out of a chimney to a family of elves that flap around like those long inflatables on used car lots. The one he needs help with appears to be a Yeti. He and Ben are definitely going for quantity over quality.

On the opposite side of the yard, Anders and Jules are stringing sparkling snowflakes from the large tree. It goes surprisingly well with the large ornament garland they spent about an hour making.

Bex, ever the supportive spouse, is heckling Gabe and Ben between sips of hot chocolate. I walk over to join her after finding yet another extension cord for Gabe to use.

“Maybe cool it on the taunting,” I suggest.

“Have you met Gabe? He taunts people in his sleep—he can handle a few good natured comments,” she replies.

“Since when is ‘Your decorations have little dick energy’ a good natured comment, my cabbage?” Elaine asks, earning narrowed eyes from Bex.

She ponders her answer for a moment before relenting. “Fine, maybe that one wasn’t exactly good natured.” Just then a shiver wracks through her. “Alright, my hot cocoa is cold and there’s no alcohol in it to warm me up, so I’m headed inside. Come on, El.” She looks toward Anders. “Kick ass, killer!” she adds before packing up her things, taking Elodie’s hand, and making her way into the house.

“Think we can be done in an hour, boys?” I ask. A chorus of yeses echo out, and I pull out my phone to set the timer.

“Five, four, three, two, and one—time!”

Anders, Jules, Gabe, and Ben all put their hands up after spending the last five minutes frantically adding their finishing touches. It’s almost dark outside and we sent Elaine into the house about thirty minutes ago so we could do a big reveal. “Bring it in,” I call, watching as the boys jog toward me.

“I’m proud of you all for your hard work and dedication. Each concept was…unique”—I eye Gabe—“and well executed. Your mom and sister will have a tough decision ahead of them.”

“Bex is biased,” Ben coughs into his hand.

“I’ll make sure the final decision is fair, don’t worry. Should I go get them?”

“Wait!” Gabe says, putting his hand into the middle. “Band of Bardots on three.”

Everyone else puts their hand in. “One, two, three?—”

“Band of Bardots!”

“Well, that was adorable,” Elaine says from the porch. “Are you ready for us?”

“Yes, dear.” I wink.

While Elaine, Bex, and Elodie go back to their chairs, I take a moment to appreciate everything my boys have put together.

It’s beautiful.

It also looks like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde decorated our house, and I’m sure the neighbors will have some thoughts.

Anders and Jules created a winter wonderland complete with what has to be close to a hundred snowflakes of various sizes hanging from every branch on our large elm. Their side of the roof is lined with white lights wrapped around an oversized ornament garland, which matches the one around the porch railing. They have flocked greenery lining the widows and a large wreath hanging in the center of each one. A life-size golden nutcracker stands to the left of the door with three giant red ornaments at his feet. There’s a potted poinsettia on each of the three steps leading up to the porch. It’s classic, elegant, and very Jules. It seems a little understated for Anders, but stunning nonetheless.

I look to Gabe and Ben’s side of the yard, and a chuckle escapes my lips. It is an explosion of color compared to the whites, reds, and golds of the other team. Every square inch of the yard is decorated with inflatable characters. The roof is covered in a sheet of colorful lights that alternate flashes. The leg lamp from A Christmas Story is centered in one window, and a cutout of the Grinch stealing a Christmas tree is centered in the other. There are three different carols playing from somewhere in the yard. It’s warm and chaotic all at once.

“You both have quite the decision on your hands,” I say to Elaine and Bex.

“It’s really…something,” Bex says, hand rubbing her belly.

“I love it.” Elaine grins.

I smile and tuck her under my arms, planting a kiss on top of her head. “Of course you do, darling.”

They deliberate for several minutes, walking around the yard, taking time to notice all of the small details. All four boys stand down by the street, nervously awaiting the final verdict. Elodie toddles around, laughing every time the inflatable Santa pops up from his chimney.

I watch as the girls walk back toward me. “Have you made a decision?” I ask.

“We have,” Bex replies. “Though, they won’t be happy about it.”

“Let’s go tell them,” I say, faux-seriousness in my tone.

“Boys, you’ve done a great job!” Elaine starts. “Bex and I each scored you out of five on three different categories: originality, use of space, and creativity. The final tally was one point apart, but the winner is…”

I drum roll on my legs, for dramatic effect.

“Gabe and Ben!” Elaine shouts.

“Rebecca! I trusted you!” Anders sulks. “You, too, little gremlin,” he says, picking up his daughter and bopping her on the nose. Gabe and Ben jump up, chest bumping each other.

“Killer—don’t be mad,” Bex pleads. “They outscored you in the originality category!”

Anders narrows his eyes. “You owe me,” he murmurs before reaching out to shake Ben and Gabe’s hands. “Good game, you guys.”

“Love the sportsmanship!” I clap Anders on the back. “Okay you two, time for rock paper scissors. Best two out of three.”

Ben and Gabe square up while Anders comes behind Gabe and rubs his shoulders. “Focus, Gabriel. You must win if I’m not in the running.”

Ben turns to Jules. “What about me? Are you going to hype me up?”

“Don’t fuck up,” Jules says as his way of encouraging his twin.

“Wow, thanks, Jules. What would I do without you?” Ben asks.

“Probably fuck u?—”

“Alright, here we go,” I interrupt. “Rules are simple for rock paper scissors. Rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper, paper beats rock?—”

“I never understood that one,” Anders mutters to Bex who just pats him on the cheek.

“—and every one must choose their hand on ‘shoot.’ Cheating is automatic disqualification. First person to get two wins is this year's Santa. Here we go.”

We gather around and watch the competition begin.

First round: Gabe chooses scissors, Ben chooses rock. One point for Ben.

Second round: Gabe chooses paper, Ben chooses rock. One point for Gabe.

Everyone around them leans in, ready for the tie-breaking round. You can feel the tension in the air as Gabe shakes out his shoulders, and Ben cracks his neck. They both take a deep breath and get into position.

Rock.

Paper.

Scissors.

Shoot.

Gabe chooses scissors, Ben chooses paper.

We all scream and pile on top of Gabe, rubbing his head and slapping his back. Even Ben joins in on the fun, putting Gabe in a headlock and telling him, “You better give me the first present, asshole.” I think I even see a tear in Gabe’s eye. Elodie is clapping wildly, though, I doubt she really understands what’s going on—she’s just happy that everyone else is happy.

Elaine and I hang back as all of the kids tumble up the lawn and back into the warmth. I turn to my wife of thirty years and pull her in for a kiss. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I run my hands up and down them to warm her.

“Today was fun,” she murmurs, pulling away slightly.

I nod in agreement. “You raised some weird kids.”

“They’re pretty amazing, aren’t they?”

Looking around the yard, I sigh. “Yeah. They really are.”