Part 11 (1/2)
Festivus begins with the airing of grievances.
-- ”Seinfeld”
Something was wrong.
All the living-room lights were on, the TV and stereo were going, and candles were burning on just about every flat surface. That was normal. But that was all. It was quiet. Too quiet.
”h.e.l.lo?” I called again. ”Where is everybody?”
Except for CNN and The Messiah, there wasn't a sound. Uneasy, I set my luggage down and opened the coat-closet door. Nothing.
”What are you doing?” Ca.s.sie asked, setting down her own bags.
”Looking for relatives.”
”Why would they be in the closet?”
”You don't know these people. They could be anywhere.” Suspicious, I poked something in the back; it was just one of Ryan's old parkas. ”Give me your coat, anyway. We might as well hang them up.”
She handed hers over, and I shoehorned them both into the inadequate s.p.a.ce that was left, most of the rest being hogged by my brothers' old coats. Why didn't they take the things home with them sometime or at least give them to Goodwill? Of all the stupid -- wait. Was that one of my old coats back there?
”Devvy?”
It sounded almost like a warning, but being busy digging through outerwear, I didn't answer right away. ”Hmmmm?”
A wild battle cry rang out behind me, and a s...o...b..ll bounced off the top of my head. I didn't even have to turn to know who the culprit was. Connor.
”Defend yourself, English pig-dog!” he shouted.
I scooped up the s...o...b..ll and wheeled around. He and Ryan were right behind me, trying to look tough.
”So. We meet again,” I said.
Ryan nodded. ”We brought our armies. They're just waiting for our signal.”
Not too gently, I pushed them apart to see. My sisters-in-law were standing behind them, holding big Tupperware bowls full of s...o...b..a.l.l.s. ”Hi, Jen. Hi, Amy.”
They both wished me Merry Christmas, smiling brightly.
”This isn't a good idea right now,” I remarked. ”We have company. If we could be civilized here for just a split-second and introduce ourselves...”
”It's all right, Devvy,” Ca.s.sie said happily. ”We can introduce ourselves later. Your brothers want to say h.e.l.lo to you first.”
Ryan nudged Connor. ”I like her. She's not a sissy.”
”And she's kind of sort of really, really good-looking,” he agreed. ”Maybe I'll marry her. Of course, that would be bigamy. Big of her, too.”
Jen, long accustomed to her husband, just rolled her eyes. I shook my head and started to walk away, but Connor got a grip on my arm. ”Not so fast. We haven't had the airing of grievances yet.”
”Grievances, h.e.l.l. You just want an excuse to show off in front of your wives. Except that you both throw like little girls.” The s...o...b..ll was getting really cold; I pushed back between them and dropped it in Amy's bowl. ”Now, if the two of you want to put on some pathetic exhibition between yourselves...”
”War!” Connor howled. ”Artillery captains! Fire!”
s...o...b..a.l.l.s started flying around the living room, mostly at me. That did it. Dodging around Ryan's left, I stole Jen's s...o...b..ll bowl -- she was laughing too hard to keep a grip on it -- and started firing the contents back. Ca.s.sie was at my side in a flash, giving as good as we got.
”The enemy is persistent,” Ryan remarked, wiping snow out of his eyes. ”And the blonde one has done this before. What do you think? Should we pitchez la vache?”
”STOP THAT THIS MINUTE!”.
Everyone froze, even Ca.s.sie, who had so little experience with the woman.
Mom waited a few seconds to be sure that her message had gotten through before she advanced on us. She was so mad that her gla.s.ses were practically steamed up from the inside, so mad that the jingle bells on her Christmas ap.r.o.n were tinkling a mile a minute. Connor, who towered over her, almost tripped in his hurry to get out of her way.
”Now,” Mom demanded, ”I want an explanation. I want to know who started this, and why. Connor? Ryan?”
Both of my strapping blond brothers looked at their feet.
”Devlin?”
I shrugged.
”I want to know why this happens every year. Every year, when you all know better. How many times do I have to tell you not to throw s...o...b..a.l.l.s in the house?”
”At least one more,” Ryan said solemnly.
We all looked at one another, trying our hardest not to laugh. But when I caught Amy's eye, she completely lost it, and that was that.
”Do you think this is funny?” Mom barked. ”Just wait till your father gets home. He'll have something to say about this.”
So she was going to try to be like that, was she? Not on my watch. Narrowing my eyes, I stepped into her path. ”Just so you know, Mom, Dad started this whole thing 15 years ago. The Christmas Connor came home from college for the first time. Would you mind if I introduce our guest now?”
She didn't hear the last part, which was typical; it didn't involve her directly. ”Your father's a grown man. He would never...”
”Dev's right,” Ryan interrupted. ”Dad and I snuck out of the house the night before to make the s...o...b..a.l.l.s.”
”'Sneaked,'” Mom corrected. ”Not 'snuck.' How many times...”
Ryan sighed. ”School's out, Mom. Get over it.” He stepped around a big clump of snow on the rug to extend his hand to Ca.s.sie. ”We haven't really met yet. I'm Ryan. You would have to be Ca.s.sie, wouldn't you? Welcome. The big dumb-looking guy is my brother Connor...”
”I didn't come here to be exonerated,” Connor declared.
Without missing a beat, Ryan did a rim shot on the nearest table. ”...who didn't come here to be exonerated. That's my lovely wife, Amy; his lovely wife, Jenny; our mother, who isn't related to any of us...”
It was showtime already, and Ca.s.sie hadn't been there a half-hour yet. Protectively, I moved a little closer to her. ”Don't pay any attention. They'll calm down after a while. Maybe.”
She smiled. There was melted snow on her eyelashes; I badly wanted to do something about that, but not in front of my family.