This was my first Christmas as hostess on The Mountain, and I wanted to do it right. It took long enough to get the house rebuilt…to my specifications…after Denny’s last visit. He promised to be on his best behavior, but as I’d never seen anything like proper behavior in all his years, I was skeptical.
The house now has several guest bedrooms, so a lot of the family arrived early. Thankfully, Denny had to work and he was the last to show up. I knew things would be, well, interesting after that.
Denny’s first job, on the long list I’d made to keep him out of trouble (and out of the way) was to find us a Christmas tree. While most of the trees on The Mountain are deciduous, there are a few proper evergreens scattered about.
He came back with a tree and a very white face. “Ok, what happened this time,” I asked, long used to Denny’s brand of trouble.
“Well, I ran into some hunters. At least I think they were hunters. They were wearing camouflage and had some rather nasty looking guns,” Denny replied.
“Uh, Denny, our property is marked and hunting season is over. Are you sure you were still on our part of The Mountain?” I asked with a sigh. I had a good hunch both who the “hunters” were and where Denny was…a good half mile from the property line. About the furthest it was safe to go in that direction was a certain stump with a bell on it.
“I dunno, there wasn’t a fence,” Denny replied. “If it isn’t hunting season, why were they out there with guns?”
I sighed. “Denny, don’t ask that question right now and don’t go that way again. You’re lucky you came back totally intact and with a decent tree. Leave it alone.”
“Oh,” Denny replied, trying to sound intelligent and not ask all the law enforcement questions so dear to his heart.
That evening at dinner, several of the younger members of the family began asking about mistletoe. To be honest, that was the last holiday decoration I wanted entering the house, for several reasons. The chief reason was Denny. He was only a step-cousin and considered himself quite eligible. This was and is a feeling I don’t reciprocate.
Another reason was due to some relatives who had brought boy/girl friends along with them. They had the good sense to keep to separate rooms (as far as I know), but I didn’t want to deal with the older members of the family lecturing on the lack of propriety of the younger ones…like I could do something about it. Well, if they did say something, I’d point out that they hadn’t managed to drum it into the kids’, how was I supposed to? It wouldn’t be polite, but by then, I was beginning to feel very put out and polite might not stay in my vocabulary much longer.
However, it did offer me another chance to get Denny out of the house. So, the next morning, all of the younger members of the family, plus a reluctant Denny, went in search of that Christmas parasite; mistletoe.
Two days before Christmas was when I start my Christmas cooking. I’m not talking about cookies and candy, those started coming out of that room before Thanksgiving. I’m talking the means for a feast. The only problem that arose was that Denny wanted to help.
How do you politely tell your cousin/guest that he is a pest, he knows nothing of cooking and all he’s doing is getting in my way? I looked at his father, and frustration must have been written all over my face. He solved the problem by finding something for Denny to do that would give me a chance to cook.
When Christmas morning dawned, I was the first one up. That’s not surprising; I was also in charge of breakfast. I had done most of the work the night before, so all I had to do was turn on the coffee pot, flick on the Christmas lights and put the special breakfast roll in the oven.
The smell of coffee and fresh pastry got most of the family up fairly quickly. As usual, Denny was the last to make an appearance. I was about to tease him about this when I got a Christmas surprise of my own.
Denny had flown my parents in from California to spend Christmas with us. It had been too expensive for them, and concerns about mom’s health hadn’t helped. It would have been my first Christmas without them, and it had been hard.
After all the hugs, kisses and hand shaking was over, I did something I had never voluntarily done in my life. I hugged Denny. For once, he’d done something not only right but wonderful.