The Plight Before Christmas(67)

Thatch and I lug the large plastic container we were asked to retrieve down the stairs before setting it in front of the tree. Gracie claps her hands together with glee as Ruby walks in from the kitchen, setting down a silver tray lined with bright red drinks, cherry stabbed swords hooked on the rim of the glasses.

“Kiddie cocktails,” Gracie informs me. “It’s just 7up and cherries, but it’s sooo good.” She lifts a plastic cup to me. “Try it.”

I take a sip of the offered drink. “Pretty good.”

“It’s tradition,” Serena chimes in as Allen snoozes in his recliner with Peyton, ears on the table next to him. Brenden, who opted out of decorating, sits on the love seat, flipping through the channels. Whitney clicks on the tree lights, the sun setting behind her where she stands in front of the windows, the amber light filtering through her hair, making it impossible to look away. Smiling, she glances over at me, and it’s like a shot to the chest. I grin back, but she breaks our gaze.

Gracie rattles with excitement next to me waiting on Ruby’s permission to start as I stand ready with a ladder.

“Now, Grammy?”

“One second,” Whitney says, walking over to where a small speaker-sized Alexa sits on a nearby table before bending and whispering a command. A second later, a rift of country blares through all speakers in the house, and Brenden jumps in his seat while Allen and Peyton remain comatose. Brenden’s protest rings out over the roar of the music. “Ah, come on!”

Every one of the Collins women animates in recognition of the song.

“You two remember this?” Ruby asks, eyeing Whitney and Serena, clearly taken aback.

“Of course,” they speak up simultaneously.

“It’s the perfect start,” Ruby admonishes, her eyes misting over. “Your grandmother would have loved this.”

“We listened to it every year here,” Whitney reminds her.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Kenny and Dolly’s Christmas album,” Brenden adds in. “And do we really have to?”

“Brenden,” Ruby says in warning, “you’re going to miss this one day. You think you won’t, but you will.” Erin joins us, walking into the living room, Wyatt on her hip and Conner plastered to her other. It’s easy to tell Conner is excited but too timid to ask for a place in the lineup.

“Conner, will you help me?” I ask. “I don’t want to break anything.”

She nods enthusiastically as Erin mouths a ‘thank you’ to me. Within minutes the Collins women, Erin included, are singing along to music I’ve never heard as Conner hands me some simple ball ornaments to start decorating the top of the tree. As Thatch collapses on the couch next to Brenden, I realize I’m the only man taking part, but I’m not at all upset about it because I can clearly see the sentiment in their collective eyes as they carry out decades of tradition. Something I’ve never had.

“Remember this?” Serena laughs, pulling a popsicle stick constructed Christmas tree ornament from one of the boxes, which is covered in glitter and globs of dried paste.

“The first ornament you ever made,” Ruby muses.

“I can’t believe you saved it,” Serena says in wonder.

“She still has our baby teeth in her jewelry box,” Brenden speaks up from the recliner, another stolen cup of Ruby’s eggnog in his tumbler. “Hoarder.”

“And your foreskin,” Ruby adds, which has me chuckling.

“Mom, that’s disturbing. Seriously, you need to toss that,” Brenden says with a shudder.

“And your belly buttons,” Ruby informs her children. All three of them fake gag as Ruby defends her choices. “Some women eat the placenta, okay? Give it a rest.”

Inhaling the scent of the tree as I secure the last ball, I descend the stepladder and open a box marked fragile, tossing a nervous glance at Conner. “Maybe we better leave this to them.”

“You scared?” She asks.

“Kind of. Can you keep a secret?”

She nods.

“This is my first time decorating a real Christmas tree.”

Her eyes widen. “First time ever?”

“I’m pretty sure. I do remember when I had my first real tree. Your aunt Whitney bought it for me a few weeks before Christmas. She snuck it into my bedroom really late at night, so when I woke up, it was at the foot of my bed. I still can’t figure out how she did it.”

“Wow. That’s awesome.”

“It was so awesome. She said she stole the idea from a movie. Do you know which one?”

Conner shakes her head before plucking a glittering star and holding it out to me. “Here, you do this one. I won’t tell your secret.”

“Promise?”

She nods again as I secure it on a nearby branch. “The next one is yours. You find it.”

She opens a shoebox littered with old newspaper. Unwrapping the first ornament, I burst into laughter when I see the Pringles cap covered in construction paper. In the center is a picture of Whitney sporting a chili bowl haircut along with two missing teeth.

“What’s so funny?” Whitney asks as I thrust the ornament in her direction for inspection. “Oof, girl, you were fire.”

She grimaces. “Yeah, thanks a lot, Mom, for that haircut. I can’t believe you thought it was a good idea.”