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Wrapped Up

Carlos took my hand as we walked toward another modest home, this time in Newark. And this time, I was wearing some of my warmest clothes. It was Christmas Eve, and the temperatures had dropped to 31 degrees and, even in my thickest coat and warmest hat and gloves, I was shivering in the chill. We were at his parents' house for Christmas Eve dinner, and I tried not to think that maybe it was more than the chill in the air that made me shiver. It was the last stage of "meet the family" and I could only hope that Carlos' mother would like me. Or at least be polite. Meeting Julie had given me confidence that I could cope, though, and Carlos' hand holding mine gave me even more.

Carlos knocked lightly on the door, and we waited only a moment before it was opened by a man who could have been a carbon copy of Carlos, only with greying on his temples and softness around his middle. He smiled genially at us and held out his hand to Carlos, "Mijo," he said softly, "Feliz Navidad."

Carlos grinned at his father as he shook his hand and pulled us both inside into the warmth of the house. "Feliz Navidad, papa," he rejoined, "Esta es Stephanie, mi novia." I still felt a thrill every time Carlos introduced me as his girlfriend.

Carlo's father then held his hand out to me, "Feliz Navidad, Stephanie. Por favor llámame Ricardo."

I smiled nervously at Ricardo and shook the proffered hand, "Feliz Navidad, Ricardo. Por favor llámame Steph."

Carlos said, "Steph is still learning Spanish, papa, could we switch to English please?"

He nodded, "Of course, I am sorry. Please hang your coats in here," he gestured to a large closet beside the door, "and then come into the living room. Everyone is gathering there, although most of the girls are in the kitchen with your mama. Celia is yet to arrive."

We hung our coats and divested our gloves and hats into the coat pockets. I took a moment to check I did not have hat-hair in a handy mirror beside the closet, and then we followed Ricardo into the living room. The living room seemed to be overwhelmed with people, mostly men, and a multitude of children. There was a flurry of introductions, and I knew I would not remember the children's names. I would struggle to remember all of the adults! Carlos' brother, Juan, greeted me warmly, having met me when we ate at Tito Cubano, and then gestured into the next room. "You'd better take Steph into mama," he suggested, "You'll never hear the end of it if you don't introduce her immediately."

They shared a smirk, and then Carlos led me into a large, warm kitchen that smelled divinely of turkey and pork, along with more spicy smells of Cuban food. I had to try and hold onto my smile as six pairs of eyes turned toward us as we stepped through the door. Carlos led me to a woman who was obviously the matriarch of this clan. His mother was about five-four and slightly plump, wrapped in a colourful dress and a Christmas apron covered in puddings and berries. Her face was very pretty still, despite some fine lines, and her hair was still black and thick. Carlos bent to kiss her cheek and wrap her in a warm hug, "Hola, mama. Feliz Navidad. Esta es Stephanie, mi novia," he added gesturing to me. His mother returned the hug and kiss, before turning to me, as Carlos continued, "Steph, esta es Maria, mi mama."

I bent slightly to brush an almost-kiss across Maria's cheek, "Feliz Navidad, Maria. Por favor llámame Steph." I offered her my hand to shake.

Maria looked at me for a moment, and then broke into a beaming smile. She ignored my outstretched hand to pull me into a hug, "Feliz Navidad, Steph. Estoy tan feliz de que hayas venido a cenar." Although I was slightly taken aback, I worked out that she was happy to have me for dinner. I relaxed slightly at this obviously sincere welcome, and then Carlos began to introduce me to his sisters, Lola, Adelina, and his youngest sister Jade, who had just started working as a nurse in Newark. The other two females in the room were his sister-in-law, Alicia, and his oldest niece, Maya, who was fourteen.

While this second wave of introductions was going on, we heard another knock on the door. Before we could continue any conversations, Celia bounded into the kitchen, cheerfully greeting everyone with hugs and kisses, including me. I had met Celia twice now, as we planned the interior design for the Haywood Street building, and she treated me like another sister.

Conversation restarted in a deluge of Spanish that I had no chance to keep up with. Carlos, seeing my look of confusion and helplessness, repeated his plea to his father earlier, "Steph is still learning Spanish, could we switch to English please?" Everyone stilled for a moment, and then resumed the cacophony of conversation, only now in English. I wasn't sure it was much better, to be honest. Everyone seemed to be talking at once!

Carlos smirked at me, and then quirked an eyebrow to the living room, asking if I would prefer to stay here or go back. There didn't seem to be much difference in the noise level, and at least here I could inhale the incredible food aromas, so I shook my head slightly. He grinned at me and let go my hand to slip back in the living room, leaving me with the women. Maria was directing all the women and Maya to assist with preparing the Christmas dinner. I shuddered, hoping she wouldn't ask me to cook anything; I had no desire to ruin their dinner with my lack of cooking skills! To avoid any chance, I turned to Alicia and asked, "Can we set the table or something? I don't have much expertise in the kitchen."

Alicia grinned at me, "Don't worry, she won't even let her daughters cook in her kitchen! The most we're asked to do is remove stuff from the oven or fridge or maybe toss a salad. And carry everything out to the tables, of course." She laughed lightly, "And Maria has had the Christmas table decorated for days, I think. This is a big deal in the Manoso house." Alicia gestured toward another room I had not seen, and I peeked inside to see a lavishly decorated table that seemed to fill the room completely. I guess it would have to be huge; this was a large family! Even so, I couldn't imagine everyone fitting in the room.

Alicia explained, "The men are just setting up the kiddie table in the living room. If Maya is a bit put out with you, it's probably because she was hoping to join the adult table this year, but with you here, there isn't room for her." I glanced over at Maya, who was looking slightly morose. I felt sorry for her; I remembered being delegated to the kiddie table as a teen felt insulting. Alicia added, "She thinks that at fourteen, she shouldn't have to eat at a table with a paper cloth and plastic knives and forks."

I decided to try and help Maya out, at least a little bit. I didn't want to disrupt Maria's plans, but I managed to pull her aside for a moment and said to her, "Alicia told me Maya is sad she won't get to eat with the adults. Could we at least make sure she has proper cutlery? Maybe a placemat or something?"

Maria beamed at me, "Yes, that is a good suggestion, Steph. Thank you for thinking of Maya." She turned to the unhappy girl and said, "Maya, please take out the paper napkins for the children. And then come in to get yourself some proper cutlery and a cloth napkin and placemat for yourself."

Maya's face brightened a little and she hastened to pick up the bundle of paper napkins with cartoon Santas on them. She paused to say, "Gracias, Abuela. Volveré enseguida." She was off with the napkins, and I saw Maria pull out a dark red cloth napkin, a green and brown placemat, and a set of cutlery, and lay them aside for Maya to collect. Maya returned to the kitchen and smiled happily when she saw her provisions. She gathered them up and carried them out to the living room as well.

Lola, Maya's mother, looked a little puzzled at the interaction, but then I saw Alicia whispering to her and Lola looked over to me and smiled warmly. "Gracias," she mouthed to me, and I smiled back at her.

I sat among the Manosos feeling almost overwhelmed with contentment in this celebration. The traditional Nochebuena feast for Christmas Eve had included roast leg of pork, rice cooked with black beans, yucca with garlic dressing, fried plantains and salad. I had tried all of these dishes, and had found them universally delicious, even the yucca which I had been hesitant to try. There were American traditional dishes as well, with the roasted turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and delicious roasted vegetables.

The Manosos had accepted me easily, and Maria seemed almost giddy at times when she looked at me. It was Lola, sitting beside me, that told me I was the first woman Carlos had ever brought home for a holiday. Not even Rachel had the honour. She told me that Maria had despaired of Carlos ever finding love and settling down, and that I was the answer to her prayers. Although flattered at the support and confidence, I couldn't help the flutter of anxiety at the pressure that implied. However, a glance to Carlos on my other side, along with the flash of a warm smile from him, eased my concerns.

I was growing increasingly aware that settling down with Carlos was what I wanted anyway. I felt like Carlos wanted to help me fly, not tie me down, and that really made him perfect in my eyes.

After dinner, the women and children went into the living room, while the men cleared the table, scraped the dishes and loaded the dishwasher, and put away the leftovers. Maria then directed the men to carry pots of coffee and trays of delicious, sweet treats into the living room, and we crowded in, passing around coffee cups and trays until everyone was served on paper plates. I moaned over a decadent caramel flan and a slice of tres leches cake. Carlos flashed me a smirk and squeezed my knee. Even he indulged with a piece of the flan.

The Manosos did not do a major gift exchange. Maria and Ricardo handed each grandchild a gift, and each of the adults a small stocking filled with chocolates, oranges, and a gift certificate. I was surprised and delighted to receive one myself, and I blushed as I realised the gift certificate was to Victoria's Secret. Carlos chuckled as he saw me blush. His gift certificate was for a shop in Newark called Black Swan Espresso, that he told me sold delicious gourmet coffee beans and supplies. I knew that Carlos and his siblings had all pooled together to buy their parents a trip to Havana in summer, and they were happily planning their vacation.

Carlos and his siblings did not exchange gifts, but Carlos had told me that he gave money to each of his siblings for their children to buy a gift from Uncle Carlos. This year, he told me it was from Uncle Carlos and Aunt Stephanie. The thrill that ran through me at that was one I treasured. By ten o'clock, the Manoso party was breaking up, and the siblings ushered their children out one-by-one, until only Jade, Carlos, and I were there. Jade was staying the night with her parents and spending Christmas Day with them. She had told me that she was extremely lucky to have gotten shifts off for today and tomorrow, but she thought she should make the most of them, since it was unlikely to happen often now. I could understand that; as a nurse, it was probably all too busy a time at work.

Finally, with many hugs, and a breakfast platter that Maria had insisted on preparing for us, Carlos and I made our departure. We were staying overnight in Carlos' apartment in Newark; we had not wanted to drive late at night back to Trenton. In the car, Carlos held my hand as we drove through the snowy streets and the warm glow of contentment from us both filled the car.

On Christmas morning, we shared the breakfast platter of pastries, fruit, and delicious savoury bites of ham and egg, with a pot of coffee, before heading back to Trenton. We were heading back to our apartment first to change and collect gifts for my family, before heading over around midday.

My sister, Valerie, had brought her daughters, Angie and Mary Alice, over to spend Christmas with their grandparents, although my mother had mentioned worriedly that Steve was not accompanying them. I wondered if there was trouble in paradise for Val, but didn't want any family drama over Christmas, so determined not to mention it.

After a reviving shower and changing to traditional Christmas sweater attire for my parents' celebration, we headed over to their row house. I had managed to find Carlos a black sweater with a small red-and-white motif around each sleeve that he seemed willing to wear. My mom probably wouldn't like that it was black, but I knew Carlos would not be comfortable, or even willing, to wear something brightly coloured or silly. And it was definitely a Christmas sweater. My own sweater was new, a warm golden colour around the chest with white shoulders, sleeves, and hem, and a knitted snowman wearing a jaunty hat beside a gingerbread post-box on the front. I teamed it with beige woollen trousers and stylish brown winter boots.

As always, my mom and grandma seemed to know when we pulled up and were waiting on the porch for us, as we stepped out of the car and gathered the two bags of gifts. I could see behind them Valerie stood in the shadows, looking rather sullen, and wearing a rather tired-looking sweater in dull green and white. My mom was also in a green sweater traditionally patterned with white reindeer and snowflakes, and grandma stood out in tight scarlet with the words, "This Is My Ugly Sweater" emblazoned across her chest. Mom looked a little askance at Carlos' attire, but seemed resigned and didn't say anything. I breathed a small sigh of relief. First hurdle overcome.

After a flurry of welcomes and introductions between Val and Carlos, we moved into the living room, where two little girls wearing matching red sweaters with Santa on a sleigh on the front, squealed "Aunty Steph!", and bolted over to start hugging my legs. I handed the bag I was carrying off to Carlos and squatted down to return the hugs and exchange kisses. I stood again and introduced Carlos to the girls, telling them they could call him Uncle Carlos, with a sideways smirk to him. He just flashed me a grin and bent himself to hold out his hand to the girls and wish them Merry Christmas. Angie was shy, but Mary Alice hugged him enthusiastically and announced, "I'm a horse! Today, I'm a Christmas horse! Angie reckons I should be a reindeer today, but I'd rather be a Christmas horse."

Carlos looked a little lost but nodded solemnly to Mary Alice and then stood to ask my mom where he should put the gifts. Mom bustled him over to the tree in the corner, where he added our gifts to the piles. I moved over to dad's recliner to lean over to hug him and wish him Merry Christmas. Dad was wearing a dark blue sweater patterned in white snowflakes, that I recognised from at least the last two Christmases. Dad bowed to mom's insistence to wear one today but refused to update a sweater he only wore one day a year. I suspected that Carlos would be the same. Maybe next year, he would wear it to his own family celebration as well.

After depositing the presents, Carlos came over to greet my father, who invited him to sit down and watch the football game with him. Carlos agreed, although I knew the girls would probably be a major distraction for Carlos. My father seemed able to tune anything and anyone out while watching tv, but I doubted Carlos would be able to ignore the girls, especially Mary Alice, who was now galloping around the room, whinnying. I followed mom, grandma and Val into the kitchen, where mom was fussing over the turkey and Val was quietly chopping potatoes for the roasting pan. Grandma gestured toward a jar of cranberry jelly and a crystal bowl, and I undertook the simple task, thankful it was something I could do.

I spoke to Val, "The girls seem well, Val. Are you still enjoying California?"

Val glanced up briefly, her expression guarded, "Yes," she responded briefly, "the girls love the beach." It seemed to be all she was willing to say, and I floundered around for another topic.

But then mom interrupted, and I cringed as she scolded, "I wish Steve had come Valerie. It would have been nice to have the whole family here. Why does he need to work on Christmas?"

Val scowled at the potatoes she was chopping, "He isn't working today, but he had to work up to yesterday and tomorrow. He has a big account he is managing," she retorted. "I've finished the potatoes, Mother. Would you like me to add them to the roasting pan?"

Grandma handed Val the carrots she had been chopping as well and my mom pulled the oven door open to lift out the turkey pan. The wall of aromatic steam hit my nose, and my mouth watered involuntarily. There was no doubt about it, my mom was a fantastic cook. She struggled to carry the heavy turkey pan over to the counter and placed it thankfully on the trivets arranged there. Val began to arrange the vegetables around the roasting pan, silently. Mom opened her mouth to continue her harangue, "Still, Valerie…" was all she managed before she was interrupted.

"Excuse me, Val," came Carlos' deep baritone from the kitchen door, "But Mary Alice has run out into the backyard, apparently to prance in the snow." One of his lips twitched but he managed to keep his face mostly blank, "I wasn't sure if she should go out without a coat or anything else, so I thought I should let you know."

"Dammit!" Val exclaimed in frustration. She hurried out of the kitchen with a brief "thanks" to Carlos.

Meanwhile, my mom began to lift the roasting pan to return it to oven, obviously straining, and Carlos stepped forward. "Please allow me to do that, Helen, it looks very heavy." He stepped up and took the heavy dish, while mom hurried to open the oven door. Carlos slid the pan in easily.

"Thank you, Carlos," my mom said a little shyly, "it is very heavy." Carlos gave her a warm smile, and her eyes widened.

"No problem," he assured her, "Call me when you need to lift it out again, I'm happy to help." He flashed me another smile and walked back out to the living room. We could hear Val dragging a protesting Mary Alice back into the house, scolding her for running out without a coat or gloves.

"We'd better go in and open presents," grandma remarked a little dryly, "Or the girls are going to revolt soon."

I frowned a little, "Surely, they've opened some presents though? This morning?"

Grandma nodded, "They were allowed to open one present each this morning, from their mom and dad, but we kept most of them until now. Even the Santa gifts."

I looked to my mom, and she nodded, so I preceded the two older women back into the living room. My mom insisted that dad turn off the tv, which he did grudgingly, and then mom told Angie that she could be Santa and hand out the gifts. It was a good choice; Mary Alice would not have been able to control herself and would have handed out maybe two gifts before ripping into her own. Angie, on the other hand, began meticulously sorting the gifts and handed each person one at a time. After about ten minutes, the pile of gifts under the tree had been distributed, and the girls were frantically ripping into the colourful paper and bows. After her carefully playing Santa, Angie reverted back to any eight-year-old child in the delight of Christmas gifts.

Carlos seemed a little surprised at getting three gifts, but I had snuck one of my gifts to him onto the tree as well. Mom had knitted Carlos a winter hat and scarf in black and royal blue, and he thanked her appreciatively. He received a hand-painted desk ornament from Angie and Mary Alice and made sure to thank them and tell them he would put it on his work desk. I had put in a novelty coffee mug, black of course, with the Godfather quote, "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse" on it. We had watched the Godfather together a few weeks ago, and I couldn't resist when I saw the mug. He grinned at me and kissed me gently in thanks.

I received a lovely sweater in blue and gold from my mom, as well as a box of Christmas cookies and a luscious pineapple upside down cake in a pretty Christmas cake tin. I thanked mom profusely and shared one of the cookies with Carlos, before I put them away. Val had given me a set of bath products in a delicious scent of vanilla and rose, and the girls had also made me an ornament, painted with a hamster on it. I was delighted and hugged them warmly.

After we had cleared up the paper and gift bows, we moved back into the kitchen to finish the preparations for our Christmas dinner. Thankfully, for Val, the girls were happily playing with their presents now. Carlos followed us in, to ask if he needed to lift out the turkey, and mom accepted gratefully. He lifted the pan up onto the counter, and I began to scoop the vegetables out onto a serving platter, while mom moved the turkey onto the carving platter to rest. I sent Carlos back to the living room to begin herding everyone into the dining room, while we began ferrying the food out to the table. Our family was small enough for us all to fit, so the girls were seated either side of Val on one side, while I sat between grandma and Carlos on the other side. Carlos reappeared to ask if he might carry out the turkey for mom, and she followed him with the carving knife and fork to where dad waited to carve the turkey.

We all sat and held hands to say grace, before everyone began loading their plates with traditional Christmas fare of turkey, stuffing, roast vegetables, gravy, and cranberry sauce. Mom had added a green bean casserole, dinner rolls, and, in honour of the traditional Italian Feast of the Seven Fishes, crab-stuffed manicotti and polenta. I had warned Carlos beforehand, and he took a little of most dishes, only really avoiding the stuffing, gravy and dinner rolls. He seemed to enjoy the manicotti and polenta, although he only took small servings.

Conversation around the table was desultory, and I was feeling relaxed and happy in the glow of the delicious feast and the two glasses of red wine I had drunk. Val was still very quiet and seemed unusually subdued. Mom tried twice to ask about Steve again, but Val shut her down curtly each time. In the end, mom gave up, but I could see her watching Val worriedly.

Grandma, though, could not let the peaceful, relaxed atmosphere continue and piped up, "So, Stephie, when are you and Carlos getting hitched? You need to tie down your Ranger, you know!" she grinned at me, moving her dentures around, before looking pointedly down toward Carlos' lap. I blushed and stuttered out a non-response.

Carlos took my hand on the table and squeezed it, before he said, "We've only been dating for less than six months. We haven't talked about marriage." He said it with finality, and his intention was clear to shut down the conversation.

"Amen," my dad muttered darkly, "Crazy old bat," he added. Carlos' lips twitched.

"Uncle Carlos," came Mary Alice's interjection, "Are you a park ranger?" She looked thrilled, "Do you ride a horse?" she asked breathlessly.

Carlos chuckled, "No sweetie, I'm sorry. My men at work call me Ranger because I was an Army Ranger." Mary Alice looked crestfallen. Carlos went on, "I know how to ride a horse though," he assured her. "Maybe next time you're visiting your grandma and grandpa, I can take you riding?" MA squealed in delight and gushed her enthusiasm.

Angie spoke up, "Why do they call you Ranger? Is it very special to be an Army Ranger?"

Carlos said, "It's called Special Forces. After you are in the Army, some people go on to get special training to do different things."

"What kind of things?" MA asked.

Carlos looked a little uncomfortable, "Just things normal Army soldiers don't do. Rangers are paratroopers, so we learn how to jump out of planes and parachute down." MA looked impressed at that, and Carlos went on to Angie, "Many of the men I work with were Special Forces, in the Army or Navy or Marines. All Army Rangers are often just called "Ranger" by their officers when deployed. When I came back and started my business, calling myself Ranger helped me to discourage criminals and be intimidating when taking them back to jail." Frank nodded in agreement, leaving me to wonder what he really knew about Army Rangers. Mom smiled at Carlos, obviously pleased with how he had handled the girls' questions without saying anything too gruesome.

Angie nodded as well. Carlos, Val, Angie and I started to clear the table, stacking the dishes and putting leftovers in the fridge. My mom prepared dessert, with a Panettone, a tiramisu, and a chocolate cheesecake. My mom only makes tiramisu at Christmas, and it rivalled the one at Rossini's. I carried out the coffee things to the table and we all took our seats for dessert. My mom surprised me, carrying in a special dessert she had made for Carlos, a traditional rice pudding. Carlos was surprised as well, and thanked my mom, telling her it was one of his favourite Cuban dishes. He took a serving, and Angie seemed pleased as well. It seemed to be a favourite for her too.

After I was stuffed with two pieces of tiramisu and a piece of cheesecake, we all helped do the dishes and tidy up. The girls were tired, but still hyped from the excitement of Christmas, and they sat playing in the living room, until they both fell asleep on the floor. Carlos and dad helped Val carry them upstairs to bed, and I told mom we would get going as well. She loaded up a bag with leftovers and told Carlos she had given him some more of the rice pudding. I hugged her in thanks.

I felt a strange contentment as we drove home. It had been one of the most relaxed and happy holidays at my parents' that I could remember, despite the chaotic young girls and Val's strange sullenness. And I couldn't help thinking it had been down to Carlos.

Maybe I was just happy.

Translations from Google:

"Feliz Navidad" Merry Christmas

"Esta es Stephanie, mi novia." This is Stephanie, my girlfriend.

"Por favor llámame …." Please call me…

"Estoy tan feliz de que hayas venido a cenar." I'm so happy you came to dinner.

"Gracias, Abuela. Volveré enseguida." Thank you, Grandma. "I'll be right back.

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