Daron's Guitar Chronicles Volume 12

947 Mysterious Ways

Mysterious Ways

Later that week we had a tree-trimming party. I don't actually remember ever having a "party" to do it before. When I was a kid I'm pretty sure that getting the tree up and decorated was a big chore that various family members were drafted into. Or maybe Claire always considered that to be a "party" and I just didn't remember it as such.

What made it a party this time, apparently, was she not only gathered everyone at a designated time to do the decorating, but she put out snacks and put on music. A well-worn cassette tape of Christmas classics played from the boom box on the fireplace mantle.

The first thing that happened of course was the Remo and Jake had to put the lights, garland, and tree topper on, which meant the two of them doing it while Claire, Janine, and Ziggy stood around commenting-slash-helping. The idea was that after that each of us would meander back and forth between the boxes of ornaments and the tree until all of them were on the tree. Simple, right?

But after placing one ornament herself, Claire took a seat on the couch. She had been feeling ill after her treatment and had been taking a lot of naps and I wondered if standing up or walking back and forth across the living room was too much for her. She switched to fussing with the ornaments themselves, the boxes of which were piled up on the coffee table, putting hooks on them and handing them to each of us as we approached.

Which of course quickly became Claire telling each of us where to put the ornaments she was handing us. I didn't actually mind. I didn't feel I needed to make a strong aesthetic argument for whether the unicorn ornament should be near the rainbow ornament or if they should be on opposite sides of the three for balance or what.

Janine was less sanguine about being micromanaged, though. At first she was placing the ornaments nearish to where Claire wanted, but eventually she just began ignoring the directions. Claire let it slide for a little while. But only a little while.

"Oh, Jan, put that one up higher."

Janine ignored her and put the ornament she'd chosen in the spot she preferred, then picked out another one for herself.

"Are you doing that just to aggravate me?" she demanded. "Honestly, Jan, you're acting like you don't even hear the words I say, but I know you do."

Janine had a shiny red glass ornament shaped kind of like a spindle hanging from the tip of one finger by a slim metal hook. She put her other hand on her hip. "Well, are you telling me what to do just to aggravate me? I'm a grown woman. I don't need you telling me where to put a god-damned Christmas tree ornament."

Actually, maybe she didn't use the word "god-damned." Some expletive or possibly a euphemism went there, and I don't remember which, but you get the point.

Claire ruffled her feathers, shifting on the couch and puffing herself up. "Don't you take that tone with me."

"Which tone would that be, Mother? The one that says it's my house and I'll put the ornaments where I want?"

"You wouldn't even have these ornaments if it weren't for me," Claire hissed. Oooh, Mom, bad move. Besides it being bad form to make it all about yourself even if you are a narcissist, Landon had been told that the tree had been delivered by elves in the night and none of us had broken that illusion, yet.

Remo ran with it: "Because Santa's elves, uh, never would have delivered so many without the letter you wrote them?"

Claire seemed to get herself together, then, putting on her "doting grandma" smile, and leaning down toward Landon, who was sitting next to the coffee table on the rug, playing with the extra tinsel. "If you think the tree is great, wait until you see what Santa himself brings."