A Grey Christmas

Look at this large residential property, dear reader, water lapping at its feet. What do you see? Wealth? Privilege? Yes, they are here, in every detail. But, let's look closer, past the boathouse and meadow, beyond the six-car garage and three-bedroom home above it. It's dwarfed by the main house, almost a mansion, currently illuminated by strings of colored lights all around. See the ornate wreath on the door? It's homemade, by gifted hands. Look inside. No, they won't mind, not if we're respectful.

See the Christmas tree? Smell the pine? A boy and girl decorated it, and a man held the young girl high enough to place the angel at the very top. They do so every year. Do you see the love in this place? I'm sorry, dear reader, of course you cannot; you need the family for that. Unfortunately, it's barely dawn, so they're still sleeping.

But look, there's the little girl, tip-toeing into her brother's room.

She doesn't want to startle him, so merely pats his hand, where it lies on the pillow beside him. "Teddy. Teddy, wake up, it's Chrithmas."

Teddy rubs his eyes, and opens them only long enough to say, "Christmas. And it's too early, Phoebes. Go back to bed."

Pouting, she reminds him, "Daddy said, if we're quiet, we can open one gift before breakfast."

Pushing the covers aside, he says, "All right. I'm up. You'd only do it without me anyway."

She beams at him, and says, "Yes, I would."

Standing, he stretches, as he asks, "Did you pee?"

"Yes, I'm not a idiot."

He laughs a little, and says, "Sorry, Phoebes, I only meant that I haven't yet, so wait downstairs for me, okay? I won't be long." As she skips away, he cautions, "Use the handrail." He has to assume that her pausing long enough to poke out her tongue is compliance.

Let's peek in the main bedroom now, dear reader, but please be quiet.

Oh, they're awake. The woman holds a hand over her mouth, as she starts to giggle. A moment later, she says, "You don't really think they'll stop at one gift?"

The man is caressing her arm. He smiles, and says, "I'd be genuinely shocked. In case I'm wrong, the largest gifts are also the most absorbing. Either way, I figure we've got at least half an hour before they bound in here."

She moves into his arms, declaring, "Husband, you're a genius."

Perhaps we'll give the happy couple some privacy for now. What's happening in the home above the garage? Two adults live here, sometimes joined by the man's teenage daughter. But not this year, nor the previous. The man is staring at a computer screen, on which is a video stream of his daughter, and he asks, "You're being careful?"

"Yes, Dad. Don't worry about me. I'm vaccinated, I don't go out unless I need to, and I wear a mask every time. Are you being careful?"

"Always. And Christian will do the same thing next year, if necessary, so we'll be okay."

There's a stunned silence, of a few seconds, and the daughter asks, "Then I presume the Greys have dropped off Forbes' Rich List?"

"Probably, but they've never cared about that."

"How much is it costing them?"

"To protect all of their employees during a pandemic? Around four and a half billion dollars so far, and that doesn't include lost revenue."

She whistles low, and asks, "Whose idea was that?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. They always present a united front."

She chuckles, and says, "I remember. Okay, I'm gonna go. Mom will be up soon, and wanting to start preparing lunch. Give Gail a hug for me? And the kids, if you're able."

"I'm able. Given that no one is going out, we're all having lunch together. Mrs. Grey is cooking, but you know Gail; she's already in the kitchen, baking, and probably will be for hours yet. We'll have shortbread and gingerbread men for days. Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad. Hopefully, I can tell you in person soon."

"Hopefully. But, just stay safe. I can cope with separation, if I know you're okay."

She smiles, and reminds him, "I'll be just fine. My father taught me how to take care of myself. Merry Christmas, Dad."

She blows him a kiss, and is gone. He closes the laptop, and takes a moment to compose himself, before heading to the kitchen, where a woman is humming to herself while decorating gingerbread men. She's looking away from him, so he silently approaches, and rests his hands on her hips. She startles, and says, "Well, you're eating that one, crooked smile and all."

Sliding his arms around her waist, he jokes, "My smile is not crooked." And then he kisses her cheek, revealing, "Just following orders; Sophie said to give you a hug."

She leans back against him, reaching back to rest a hand on his face, and asks, "Well, I wouldn't like to disappoint Sophie. How is she?"

"Good. Jen's cooking for her latest beau, and his family, but they're all vaccinated, so it should be okay."

She turns in his arms, and caresses the greying hair at his temples, saying, "But you're worried."

He shrugs, and says, "She's my daughter."

She rests her arms on his shoulders, and says, "How about a distraction?"

He smiles at the suggestion, his hands caressing her back, and then glances behind her, to the table covered in baked goods. "I like the way you think, but it doesn't seem that you're done here."

Linking her hands behind his head, she says, "Still, there'll be more than enough for six. I can finish the rest later."

In the main house, the father is walking down the stairs, a smile on his face. There are many voices coming from the living room, and he soon sees why; his mother and father on the TV screen, and his children surrounded by toys and discarded wrapping paper. It seems that his son has mastered the art of the video call. The kids are holding up gifts, for their grandparents' approval. His tone gentle, he asks, "What happened to just one gift?"

Teddy looks embarrassed, but Phoebe says, "We used our 'nitiative."

So that they'll know he's not upset, he kisses them both on the head, and says, "I thought you might. Merry Christmas." Looking at the TV, he adds, "To all of you. Ana will be down shortly."

Phoebe doesn't even look up from her toy, to ask, "She's having the babies?"

"No, sweetheart. The twins won't be here for months yet. She's just having a shower. What you got there?"

She holds up the plush toy, cheerfully declaring, "Grogu. From Nan and Pop."

He smiles at his parents, saying, "Looks like a nice, quiet gift." Last year's gift had been a wireless karaoke microphone, that Phoebe had unfortunately loved.

Carrick laughs, and says, "Merry Christmas, son. Teddy was asking if he can ride his new bike? Just in the driveway. I said to wait for you."

He looks down, at his son's wide-eyed plea, and relents, "After breakfast, and only if you rug up. It's freezing out there."

"Pancakes, Daddy?"

"If you help me, yes. Grogu can help too, but tell him to keep his fingers out of the batter."

She giggles, and skips towards the kitchen. Teddy asks, "Want me to get it started, Dad?"

He ruffles the boy's curly locks, and says, "Thanks, Teddy. I'll be right behind you." When the children are out of earshot, he asks his parents, "Did you get the results yet?"

Grace says, "Negative. Turns out, it was bronchitis. The boy has already been discharged. No doubt also trashing his parents' living room."

"Still, you'll reconsider? You can't keep putting yourself at risk like this."

She shakes her head slightly, and reminds him, "I'm qualified, and I'm needed. And, thanks to you, I have the best protection money can buy. You know that I have to do this."

He sighs, and concedes, "Yeah, okay. Just, please stay vigilant."

"I will. I promise."

He sighs again, and says, "Well, I'd better go, before the kitchen becomes a war zone. I'll call you back when we're about to have lunch."

"We'd like that. See you then. Merry Christmas."

THE END