Chapter 7: A Victorian Christmas

Paul had gone all out to decorate his home for the holiday, in the style appropriate to the 1905 era of the structure. Up to a point. He drew the line at mounting lit candles on the fronds of the large fir tree erected in the parlor. But there were festive garlands of dyed popcorn and silvered glass beads, little printed cards showing Santa Claus, and a big card on top of an Angel surrounded by rays of gold.

“Everything’s just perfect!” exclaimed Talia.

Kerri rolled her eyes at Ric. “She’s been like this for a while. Like a teenager. Ping ponging around excited, then gloomy. I have to say it, she’s ‘hormonal.’”

“I can’t argue with you, I’ve seen it too,” answered Ric.

Just then, the big front door swung open. It was Kerri’s parents, Pam and Barry.

“Doctor Russell!” Talia screamed, and rushed him, wrapping her arms around him tightly and squeezing.

“You have the best husband in the world!” she told Pam.

“I know that,” replied Pam, calmly.

“If you’re going to hug me like that, please call me Barry, Talia. Oof. Judging by that greeting, you’re feeling good.”

“I’m feeling super good, and it’s all thanks to you, Barry. Those specialists have me all juiced up on hormones, and I’m eating like a horse now.”

“You should see our grocery bills. Hi, folks, good drive down from Lake Tahoe?”

“Yes, Paul, thanks. Have you seen our daughter?”

“Oh, she’s in the kitchen, clucking over the bird. Why don’t you detach your lamprey there, and I’ll take your coats.”

“You’re mean,” pouted Talia, and wandered off.

“We have a teenager in the house,” warned Paul.

“I can see that. The endocrinologist warned you; I hope.”

“She did, but the reality exceeds her descriptions. There have been other changes, but I think it would be better for you to speak with her privately about them. She’s still very shy with me.”

Kerri appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, then putting it aside.

“Hi Mom, Mnph. Dad, Mnph. I’m ready to serve if you would please take your places at the big table.”

Along with the fine porcelain, each place setting had a little name card designating which seat was assigned for each guest. Talia appeared in a new (yet old-fashioned) formal dress with just a little makeup on her face.

“How kind of you to let me come,” she quoted Eliza Doolittle in an affected accent and flounced to her seat.

Christmas dinner, as expected, was a great success. “New Talia” powered through heaps of food, making everyone smile. She only needed to skip the dinner rolls. Dessert included delicious oatmeal raisin cookies, which were naturally gluten free.

Talia spoke up, “I’m going to be changing clothes to something more casual, and then I’m going to be cleaning the kitchen and the dishes, with Mom’s help.

“Oops! She volunteered, I thought. What’s wrong?”

“< Sniff > You called me ‘Mom,’ Talia.”

Talia suddenly looked stricken. “I’m sorry, you said that I could—”

“< Snuffle > You can! You can, Talia, daughter. Kerri, help!”

“My mama’s a big softie, T. Trust me, those are happy tears. She’s a great mom.”

Ric chimed in, “Pam IS a great mother, just look how her daughter turned out.”

“Oh, great, now you’ve got them ALL crying, Ric,” observed Paul. “And I wanted to do the presents.”

“Presents?” asked Talia, querulously.

Gifts

In spite of the 120+ year old trappings surrounding them, the gifts were all quite modern. Ric bought Kerri a powerful laptop computer.

“Wait a minute. I smell a Paul-sized rat here. This was too expensive for your budget, Ric.”

“I’m wounded that you impugn me so, Kerri. Paul helped me select the model and configuration, and to complete the purchase through the web. But the money came from MY pocket. This is a factory-refurbished—but still current—model that has all the power you need. You can continue using your peripherals, and I will help you transfer everything over from the clunk-o-matic.”

“In that case, Ric, you’re going to have a very special bedtime holiday tonight.”

“La-la-la-la, I can’t hear you,” said Pam.

“My ears are much too young and delicate for this conversation,” added 67 year old Barry.

“By the way, Mom and Dad, Ric and I are girl- and boyfriend. I probably should have mentioned that already.”

“Yeah, my sister is being all kissy face and stuff with him lately. It’s icky,” added Talia.

“What are you, 12?”

Barry put on his TV-Dad voice: “Girls, play nice.”

Kerri picked up two boxes, “Yeah, well, here’s your present, brat. And here’s yours, Mom and Dad.”

The presents were identical. They were the same image, enlarged, printed, and nicely framed. It was Talia, wearing tonight’s elegant dress. She looked like the proverbial million dollars.

Barry put a hand to his face, softly exclaiming, “Oh, my!”

“You claimed the dressmaker needed a photo for the alterations. You total sneak!” This last said so lovingly. Talia would never forget this Christmas gift.

“I thought, T, you might want to re-gift this to our landlord. I think Paul kind of deserves it.”

“Kerri, would you take this back from me, please.”

Uncertainly, “OK, sure.”

Paul and Talia flew into each other’s arms and tried to squeeze all the breath from each other. When they unclenched, “Ric, can you grab the photo now, please?”