Bookends: Christmas
By Shotzette and Missy

Christmas Present
By Shotzette


Skye Davis let out a sigh of relief as she closed the oven door. The ham was warming, and more importantly, off of her cramped kitchen counter. How does Martha Stewart do this shit? She smirked as visions of uniformed lackeys cleaning the apartment, cooking a gourmet meal, and redecorating her apartment while they were at it; danced through her head. Well, the apartment was clean, she had to hand it to Brandon on that count. She was still pissed that he had to work on Christmas Eve, but at least he managed to make the place look halfway presentable before he crawled groggily out of their bed at O-dark-thirty that morning.

Their place, she thought, glancing around the always too small apartment. It wasn't bad, near SoHo, a third floor walk up. It would be perfect if had been just the two of them, but with a boisterous six year old and two year old, she felt like they were bursting at the seams. Add three grandparents, two demented uncles, and there wouldn't be room for a freaking partridge in a pear tree.

Then again, if things were normal it wouldn't be a Kosnowski Christmas. Starting with the first Christmas she could remember, their family Christmases had never been the stuff of Currier and Ives. More like Laurel and Hardy.

Skye grinned as the slapstick-like antics of Christmases past danced before her eyes. The first one in Milwaukee, when her mother gave her grandfather food-poisoning. Two years later when she decided to surprise her parents by giving her lifesize Barbie head--and herself, hair cuts. The awful Christmas at the emergency vet when Bosco ate the poinsettia left on their stoop by a well-meaning neighbor. The even worse Christmas in the emergency room when Frankie tried to free his GI Joe doll from it's hermetically sealed packaging with a Ginsu. Oh well, she figured. If it doesn't involve physical or psychological pain, it would be a good Christmas in her book. Small apartment be damned...


*****


Lenny automatically focused in on his wife and their two grandchildren as they skated past him at Rockefeller Centre. The low battery light of his camera was on, and it was stuck on night-mode; but he didn't care; he merrily clicked away at their smiling faces as they careened on by. Besides, he thought as he glanced to his right, Paul was catching everything on his camcorder that he might miss. And, as promised, the proud grandpas would duplicate their work and exchange copies as previously promised.

Lenny had to laugh to himself. It wasn't until Skye gave birth to Marie that he had anything in common with Dr. Paul Davis, Ph.D. Now, thanks to the common bond, and competition of going for the "Best Grandpa in the World" title, the ice-cream man and the physics professor were as close as lodge brothers. If nothing else, grandkids had given them both things to talk to each other about than the weather.

"Here you go," said Andy, as he trudged up from the concession stand with three hot choclates.

"What? You didn't get one for your Mom?"

"Dad," Andy replied, with the characteristic teenaged eye roll, "by the time she and the rugrats are ready to quit, these drinks will be long gone."

Before Lenny could retort, Paul interjected, "It's not a big deal. The next rounds on me."

Lenny said nothing, merely glared at his son who seemed to try to avoid his father's gaze. Andy had been edgy the entire trip, Lenny realized. Unusually quiet, even for him. It hadn't really bugged him on the plane, he'd been too consumed with anger over discovering Frankie's tongue piercing. Actually the very large security guard with the metal detector had discovered it, and the resulting melee had nearly caused them to miss their flight. The following lecture somewhere forty five thousand feet over the lovely state of Nebraska had fallen on deaf ears. By the time they were over Pennsylvania, Frankie had already propositioned two of the flight attendents, who pointedly ignored the Kosnowski section of the plane for the last hour of the flight. No wonder a little thing like Andy's quietness went under his and Laverne's parental radar.

The cell phone that seemed to be permanently attached to Andy's hip chirped, breaking Lenny's train of thought. Andy mumbled a "hello", then turned away from his father and Paul, closing his eyes as he banished the rest of the world.

Lenny's brow furrowed. He hated that damn phone. But, what could he do? The kid bought it and paid the monthly bill on his own. But he could never quite separate the device from the images of drug dealers he saw on TV. Andy was a good kid, he reasoned to himself. His high school coach performed random drug tests and nothing had ever come up. But still... Images of his wasted, and generally idiotic time with Karen at the commune flashed before his eyes. Unfortunately, the consequences of experimentation were signifcantly more deadly now, than they had been in the hippy-dippy early seventies. He needed to have a talk with that boy, and soon.

Lenny was wondering if he could get some alone time with Andy in Skye and Brandon's cramped apartment when a sudden impact knocked him to the ground. His wife's apologetic words nearly made him forget the glimmer in the green eyes that had haunted him since he was six. Pushing the more disturbing thoughts of his son aside, he concentrated on dropping some the scraped-up ice off of Laverne's skate, and down the neck of her sweater.


*****


The scent of brown sugar glazed ham danced through Laverne's being as the final amens were said. Then the dinner table was like a communal feeding trough at the zoo. Both grandpas were competing for the honor of feeding Leon, while Marie implored her grandmother to cut her meat for her. Laverne caught Skye's eye and winked as the younger woman took a large gulp from her wineglass. The torch has been passed, she said to herself with a tiny tinge of regret. Skye's now the hostess, and she only had to do the fun stuff. She could tell by the edge in Skye's voice earlier in the day that she had come down with perfectionistitis, the dread disease of the first-time hostess. The relief on Skye's face when Laverne had offered to take everyone ice skating had spoken volumes. Still, everyone had arrived at the table, more or less as sane as they ever would be.

Laverne looked around the table, at her near and dear ones. Brandon and Paul were watching the Kosnowski clan with all the enthusiasm of a fan with court seats at a Lakers game. Paul may be quiet, or as she had once pegged him, "King of the Nerds", but he enjoyed the excitement that seemed to follow the Kosnowskis.

Carmine--who at some point had begun channelling for her Pop--was haranguing poor Marianne about finding a nice guy and settling down. Laverne favored Marianne with a knowing smile, as she started on her second glass of chianti. She suppressed a chuckle. As much as she loved Skye, she'd always sensed a strong kinship with Marianne. Laverne saw a lot, sometimes too much, of herself in Carmine's daughter. Marianne was a big success, what with being one of the youngest ad execs at Vogue, and was enjoying all of what Manhattan had to offer; namely the money, the parties, and the men. And not necessarily in that order. Laverne glanced at Lenny, as she remembered her younger and wilder days. There was no way in hell that she wanted to relive them, but she wouldn't have traded them for all the tea in China. Privately, she made a note tell Carmine to back off, later.

She viewed her own offspring with a less tolerant eye. Honestly, she had been ready to wring both of their necks a dozen times over. Frankie... well, there was always a laundry list of reasons with that one, she thought. His newly acquired, and disgusting piercing was merely another brick in the wall. Laverne smirked when he, lisping and drooling the entire time, offered Marianne (who was doing Atkins) his ham in exchange for her more easily swallowed mashed potatoes. Served him right.

Laverne's smirk faded as her gaze fell on Andy. If he wasn't talking on his damn phone, he was checking it, as if waiting for the President to call him personally and congratulate him on winning the World Series. Andy had been distant and moody the entire trip, she could sense it, and judging by the dark looks Lenny had been shooting his son, she wasn't alone in her worries. As if on cue, his damn cell phone rang. Mumbling a quick " 'scuse me," her son leapt up from the table and darted into Skye and Brandon's bedroom.

That did it. Lenny was on his feet in a flash and angrily striding towards the bedroom. Laverne hopped in front of him, a restraining hand against his midsection. "Sit back down, and finish cutting Marie's ham for her," she said in a quiet, but hardly delicate tone.

"Yeah, but.."

"I shout louder than you do," she gently reminded him.

"Good point," Lenny replied, as his anger instantly evaporated. "Marie," he said, turning back towards the table, "Grandpa Lenny will help you since Grandpa Paul is hogging Leon."

"Am not," the physics professor whined.

Laverne stormed into the bedroom, loaded for bear. She was going to give Andy the lecture of his life. She and Lenny didn't pay a small fortune for holiday plane tickets for him to be miserable and worse, make everyone else miserable. He was going to have a wonderfully happy Christmas if it killed her. Or him.

But, when she saw his anguished face, it stopped her in her tracks. Muttering into his cell phone, he repeated over and over, "It's going to be okay."

"What's going to be okay?"

Andy jumped in surprise, apparently so engrossed in his conversation that he didn't hear his mother's not too quiet footsteps. He gave her a pleading look before the words tumbled over themselves in a rush to leave his mouth. "It's Caitlyn," he stage whispered, as he clamped his hand over the tiny receiver, "Her Uncle Mike cancelled out at the last minute, then her grandparents got in a huge fight, and her grandfather drove off all angry. Her grandmother locked herself in the bedroom crying and has been in there all afternoon. Caitlyn tried to cook the turkey, in case her grandfather came back, but she did something wrong." Andy finally paused for a deep breath, then turned to his mother and asked, "I think she got a defective one. She said it stunk after she put it in the oven, and she found a gross little bag of stuff in it. I dunno, though, she's crying pretty hard and I can't really understand her--"

"Give me the phone."

"But, Mom..."

"But nothing. This isn't something that you and Caitlyn to have to fix. This is between her grandparents. Give me the phone."

"But--"

"Now." Laverne looked at her son sternly. Funny, Andy usually couldn't hold her gaze that long when she was mad at him. He must have started taking lessons from Frankie.

"Okay, but I shouldn't have to pay for the time you spend talking--Ow! Jeez, Mom! That was my head."

"You've taken your SATs already, so I don't have to worry about damaging you anymore," Laverne said in a matter of fact tone. "Now go back to the table and have a normal Christmas dinner for god's sake!"

Glancing at her son's retreating form, Lavene turned her attention back to the tiny phone in her hand. "Caitlyn? Caitlyn, honey, stop crying. It's Andy's mom. I know, you're having a awful Christmas. It's going to be okay. Can you put your grandma on the phone? Tell her it's Laverne. Honey, quit crying. No, the turkey's a lost cause, just pitch it. Trust me, you don't want to mess with tainted meat on Christmas. Get the phone book. It's a...never mind. Go online and look up Chinese restaurants and order dinner for yourself if there's no food in the house. Yes, they're open. Really. Damnit, Caitlyn! They are open! You don't think your the only person whoever roasted a bag of turkey guts, do you? While you're doing that, I'll talk to your grandma. Well, knock again. Knock louder. Yell through the door and tell her that I'm going to tell the you bachelor party cake story. Trust me. Yell louder. Yes, I knew it would work. Now give me your grandma and go get some dinner. Yeah, goodbye. Yeah, I'll wish Andy a Merry Christmas from you," Laverne promised, as she rolled her eyes in frustration. There was a shuffling sound, then silence.

"Shirl? Shirl, are you there? Shirl, I know you're there, I can hear you sniffling."

"Hello, Laverne. Merry.." Shirley's words were drowned out by sobs.

"Shirl! Calm down. Things can't be as bad as all that."

"Oh really? I'll have you know that this has been the worst Christmas ever!"

"Worse than the Christmas in our junior year when you had mono, and were too sick to even go look at your tree? Remember, your mother was so afraid you were contagious that she through all of your presents into your room from across the hallway?"

"Well..."

"Worse than the year you thought Carmine was going to give you an engagement ring, and it turned out to be a friendship ring? Remember, he even got it a size too small and it ended up turning your finger all green."

"Isn't this the part where you cheer me up, Laverne? For god's sake, sing High Hopesor something. I guess I'll be hanging up now, Vernie."

"Don't hang up, Shirl! And I am cheering you up. You got to keep this stuff in perspective. You're having a lousy Christmas. It happens. You've had them before--we all have, and you'll probably have them again. You're also going to have some wonderful Christmases as well."

"That's easy for you to say, Laverne! You're in New York, with your family all around you. I'm here in Sherman Oaks all by myself."

"First off you're not alone. Caitlyn dragged your withered keister out of your bedroom, remember?"

"She's only here because her grandfather neglected to take her with him when he stormed out of here in a huff. I'm sure she'd rather be with Andy, or with one of her girlfriends."

"Maybe so, but the point is, she's with you now. She's your granddaughter, Shirley. She loves you and she's very worried right now. Shirl? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here. It's just... Caitlyn's just another person I've let down."

"Shirley! Where's all of that coming from? Who've you let down?"

"If I had been a better mother, Donny and Mike would be here. Eileen would be here."

"Shirley, don't even go there. I can't even begin to imagine how much losing Eileen hurt you and Walter. But, you can't let the hole in your heart be your entire life. Donny's still overseas, right?"

"Yes. He's still in Kandahar."

"Trust me, he'd be with you if he could. But, you all knew what his going into the Army involved. Walter was in the Army for twenty five years, you two should understand better than anyone."

"Laverne, it's different when it's your child as opposed to your husband. And it's even more different after you've lost a child. You wouldn't understand."

"No. I guess I don't understand that part. But I do understand how my very best friend in the world can focus so much on what she doesn't have, that she forgets to appreciate what she has."

"Such as?"

"Such as a granddaughter who loves you so much, she's running her friend's cell phone bill up so high he'll be working overtime all spring break just to pay his parent's back. Such as a son who adores you so much that it takes a military action on the other side of the world to keep him away."

"How about Mike?"

"Two out of three ain't bad, Shirl."

"That's not funny."

"I'm sorry. What do you want me to say, that Michael is self-involved and always has been? You got to accept people's limits, Shirley. Your kids ain't perfect, Walter ain't perfect, and they're never going to be perfect. Are you going to let that ruin your life?"

"No."

"I can't hear you."

"No, Sergeant Plout, I'm not!"

"That's the girl I got kicked out of the Brownies with!"

"I haven't thought of that in years..."

"Me neither."

"I should probably let you get back to your family..."

"Nah, they all know how to eat by now. We can catch up. We haven't spent as much time together as we should have."

"No, it's Christmas Eve. You should be with your family, and I should be with mine."

"You're not getting all depressed again, are you, Shirl?"

"No. I just realized that Caitlyn is probably crying her eyes out in her room right now, thinking that this whole thing is her fault."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I think we're going to start a new Meaney Family tradition. We're going to leave a note for Walter, inviting him to join us when he gets home; and then my lovely granddaughter and myself are going to go to Denny's and eat ice cream sundaes until we burst. How does that grab you?"

"Mmmm... Do you still think they make Vanilla Coke floats, but with Pepsi instead?"

"I can ask."

"Good. We're heading back to Burbank right after New Year's. I think you and I are way overdue for good, old-fashioned ice cream pig out. What do you think?"

"I agree with you, and I think I chose my best friend very wisely. You have a terrific Christmas, Laverne. Give my love to everybody. And tell Andy I'll pay his cell phone bill, okay?"

"He'll be relieved. Now he'll have more time to moon over your granddaughter during spring break. I love you, Shirl."

"I love you too, Laverne. Bye, now."


*****


Lenny Kosnowski stood outside the bedroom door carrying a tray of food, transfixed as he watched the woman sitting cross legged on the bed. He knew he was looking at a sixty-three year old grandmother, but in his mind's eye he saw an energetic sixteen year old, giggling on the telephone with her best girlfriend. The same teenager who stole his heart so many years ago.

As she said goodbye and turned around to face him, he absently wondered if she saw the same gangly teenaged boy who loved her from afar for so many years.

Her familiarly passionate kiss answered his question better than words ever could.

FIN




To Epilouge
To Long Distance











(Close This Window To Return To LAS Fic)