Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Christmas Confidential - 10. Jenny and Greg
Jenny and Greg
By Valkyrie
I have one more gift for you to give this season. Please ask Len to have his group meet you at Jenny and Greg’s house. I’ll send the particulars to your email.
Gabe smiled as he read the text, then opened the email his boss sent. He felt a bittersweet pang as he read about the latest recipients of the anonymous benefactor’s gifts. Gabe loved being the ‘face’ of his boss and delivering the items that would make deserving people’s lives a bit easier. The pang was for the end of this year’s season, although he did try to make a positive difference all year long.
Gabe fished in his pants pocket for a tissue and wiped his eyes. Jenny and Greg’s gift would be the most special of all, since this would be their last Christmas together.
“Remember the time you tried to frost that cake before it had cooled?” Jenny smiled as she slathered chocolate icing across the log-shaped cake.
Greg wheezed as he laughed and held onto the edge of the kitchen table. “How could I forget?”
“Do you need me to get your oxygen? Your breathing doesn’t sound all that good.”
“Nah. Not yet. Stop making me laugh, and I’ll be fine.”
“My mom had that brilliant idea to throw that whole mess of a cake into the blender and mix it into oblivion.”
“That was the worst dessert I’ve ever had in my life.” Greg chuckled.
Jenny sighed and paused, knife in the air. “God, I miss her.”
“I know, honey. She was a special lady.” Greg had to inhale every couple of words.
She set the knife down and walked into the living room, returning a minute later wheeling a green oxygen tank. She handed the clear tubing to her husband. “You still sound wheezy.”
Greg silently put the canula into his nostrils and fixed the flexible plastic tubing around his ears. “Fucking COPD. I can’t even laugh anymore.”
Jenny kissed the top of his head. “How about giggling instead?” She returned to decorating the cake.
“Giggling is not an option.”
“Well maybe you should.”
“I can hear the guys now.”
Jenny snorted and finished the final edge of the buche de Noel. “Who cares what your friends think.”
“Yeah, you tell ‘em. If they give me shit, I’ll just sic you on them. You can push them down in the mud.”
Jenny laughed. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
Greg grinned. “Hell, no!”
“Well, you deserved it!”
“I told you it was an accident! I was twelve! I didn’t exactly have the best aim.”
Jenny gave him her best ‘Oh no you di’int’ look. “You will never convince me that kicking that ball directly at me and smashing me in the face was an accident!”
Greg rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now cut me a slice of that cake. It smells wonderful.”
“You know it’s for dessert tomorrow. You’ll just have to wait.” She carefully covered her creation in plastic film and placed it in the refrigerator.
“What’s the point in waiting? It’ll just be the two of us.”
She placed her hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed. “We can still maintain our traditions.”
Greg snorted, almost displacing the canula. “This year has killed tradition.”
“Maybe some, but not all. We still have control over some things. Like when we eat our cake. Now let’s go do another tradition… A Christmas Story is on, so let’s watch it five times in a row.”
“As long as you don’t shoot your eye out.” Greg stood and walked into the living room while Jenny followed, dragging the oxygen tank. He sat in his favorite recliner, and Jenny switched the tube over to the unit plugged into the wall. She grabbed a blue, fuzzy blanket from the back of the chair and spread it over his lap, tucking it in the sides.
“Hey, I’m not so fra-gee-lay that you need to tuck me in.” He winked.
“Ha. Ha. Maybe you’ll get one of those ugly ass leg lamps tomorrow.”
“Cool! I’ll be sure to give it a nice feel.”
“Sure you wouldn’t rather have the real thing?” She lifted her leg up to set it on the arm of the chair, then yelped in pain. “Ow!” She grabbed her leg and rubbed it, hopping on her other leg to the couch. “Dammit! I pulled a muscle!”
“That’s what you get for being so sexy.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“UGH! Let’s just watch the damn movie.”
Greg switched the TV on, and they settled in to watch Ralphie’s story. It was a few minutes into the introduction, where the family watches the parade. The camera panned past a group of people singing Christmas songs.
“You know what I think I’ll miss the most this year? I mean besides seeing the kids, of course,” Greg said.
“What’s that?”
Greg waited till his coughing fit eased before speaking. “The singing. God help me, I never thought I’d say this in a million years, but I think I’ll actually miss you and your sister attempting to sing O Holy Night.”
Jenny stared at her husband incredulously. “Are you freaking kidding me? After all the bitching you do about it?”
“Yeah, well… who’d a thunk?”
It was a running family joke. Every year, Jenny and her sister sang a very out of tune rendition of their mother’s favorite Christmas song while Greg rolled his eyes, grimaced, and covered his ears.
“It made Mom smile every time. She loved it, no matter how bad we sound.”
“I’m sure she still does.”
Jenny smiled wistfully. “Remember the year we decided to go caroling around the neighborhood when we were teenagers?”
Greg smiled. “That was fun. But cold. I think the best part was the hot cocoa and cookies your mom made us afterwards.”
“And our first kiss that night.”
“Yeah, that too.” Greg sighed. “I miss being able to sing. Another thing COPD has taken from me.”
Jenny reached over and held out her hand. Greg briefly squeezed it before letting go.
“Do you hear that?” Greg asked.
Jenny shook her head. “Hear what?”
He grabbed the remote and hit the mute button. “Huh. I don’t hear it anymore.”
“What did you hear? Maybe it was something on the TV.”
“I’m not sure.” Greg shrugged.
They both startled at a loud knock at the door. Jenny frowned. “Now who on earth could that be? The kids know not to come over. It’s too risky with the way your lungs are.” She stood and walked to the door. She grabbed a mask and put it on before opening it.
“Are you Jenny McClain?” a tall blond man wearing a black peacoat and red Santa hat asked.
“Yes, that’s me. What’s going on?” There was a group of about twenty people spaced out behind the man at the door.
“My name is Gabe Murray, and I’m with the local news station. An anonymous benefactor sent me here to give you and your husband a special gift. Can Greg come to the door too?”
Jenny furrowed her brow. Gabe wore a mask, and the group of people stood near the sidewalk. “I suppose. Let me get him.” She motioned for Greg to join her. “Honey, come here. It’s someone from the news. He wants to give us a gift.”
Greg joined her at the door after donning his own mask.
Gabe motioned to the group behind him. “I’d like to introduce Len and the city’s Gay Mens’ Choir. They had to cancel their big Christmas concert, so decided to go caroling instead. We’ve come to sing some songs for you.”
The men in the group all waved to the couple, then launched into a beautiful rendition of Angels We have Heard on High. The couple stood, arms around each other, in awe of the beauty of the voices, and watched behind the glass of their screen door. Jenny was struck by the diversity of the group—it was comprised of men representing a variety of races, ages, and gender identity. A true rainbow of the human race. Tears streamed down her face at the wonder of it all.
The group next launched into a jaunty rendition of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, as the couple clapped and danced along. Their neighbors all joined in from their own doors and porches. The group sang two more songs before starting their final selection. A tall, bald African American man stepped to the front of the group, standing next to a shorter black-haired Asian man. The black man began singing O Holy Night.
Jenny and Greg held each other tightly as they listened to the clear, deep voice carry along the street. She squeezed Greg’s hand tightly as she imagined her mother looking down on them, sharing the experience. The neighborhood erupted into applause and whistles when he finished. Jenny looked for Gabe to thank him for this special gift, but he was nowhere to be found.
- 14
- 26
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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