On Strike for Christmas (26 page)

“Drill bits and nuts,” he said. “Interesting combination.”

“If you'd been at Hank's today,” Glen began.

Laura's dad cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I was. You did better than I did.” He lowered his voice and leaned over to Glen. “Your mother-in-law's getting a handwritten gift certificate.”

Poor Dad, Glen thought. Although he hadn't done much better for Laura.

“Oh, well. A gift certificate is better than nothing,” his father-in-law decided.

Wait a minute. That gave Glen an idea. And it was a great one. He felt so pleased with himself he almost crowed. Santa would be up late tonight, but it would be worth it.

“Say,” said his mom. “Isn't it time we left for church?”

Glen looked at his watch. “Whoa, you're right. Hey, everybody, we've got to get going.”

“You got the right costume this time?” teased Frank.

“Funny,” snapped Glen. Not only was Frank not getting invited back next year, he might not even live to see next year.

Everyone hugged, kissed, then rushed out and piled into cars, and ten minutes later the family was settled in pews for the early Mass, witnessing a new generation of kids celebrating the Christmas story. Watching his daughter sing in the angel choir with his wife seated next to him and his son on his lap made Glen remember why he loved this season so much. And this year he had a new appreciation for all of it. So much effort went into making all the celebrations he loved, effort he'd taken very much for granted. Never again. He was a new man and he was going to prove it to Laura with a grand gesture.

Back home, when it was just them, he got the presents he'd bought earlier wrapped and stashed under the tree while Laura put the kids to bed. Then they filled the kids' stockings together. As it turned out, the stocking stuffers were about the only things that he'd managed not to screw up on. Laura told him it was because he was the world's biggest kid.

“There's nothing wrong with that,” he said, suspecting an insult.

“No, there's not,” she agreed with a smile. “I think that does it. Let's go to bed.”

“You go ahead. I've got a couple more things I need to do,” Glen said.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “It's over, you big goof. You're done. You can come to bed.”

“Not quite.” He kissed her. “You go on. I'll be up in a little bit.”

She shook her head at him like he was nuts. “Okay.”

As soon as she was gone, he slipped into the spare room office and began making his Christmas creation for her, using everything he could find from old stationery to some of the kids' colored craft paper. He got so engrossed in his project he didn't even hear Laura come in until she said his name. Then he about jumped out of his skin.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He threw an arm over the scattered bits of clipped papers. “Nothing.”

“Glen, you've been in here for almost two hours.”

Time flew when you were being brilliant. “Really?”

She slipped around him and loosened a rectangle of red construction paper from under his elbow.

“Hey,” he protested.

But it was too late. She was already reading it. “Good for one back rub. No expiration date.” She gave him a smile that told him he was really onto something, then freed another bit of paper. “Good for one night of dinner and dancing. Dancing, huh? Boy, you're really trying. So how many of those coupons have you made?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. I've lost count.”

“And are they all for me?” she asked, her voice teasing.

“Well, they're not for Frank.”

She grinned and dropped onto his lap, slipping her arms around his neck. “This is really sweet.”

Man, she smelled good. “What I found for you didn't seem good enough,” he confessed. “I'm sorry, babe. I'd ordered something really great from that stupid Internet site and—”

She put her fingers to his lips to shut him up. “You already gave me what I wanted for Christmas. You helped. It was all I ever really wanted.” She slid off his lap, the flimsy material of her nightgown whispering through his fingers. “Now, why don't you come to bed?” she suggested, her voice silky.

It looked like Glen was going to get something he really wanted for Christmas, too. He followed her out of the room, leaving the coupons on the desk. They'd still be there in the morning.

Merry Christmas to all, he thought with a smile, and to all a good night.

“The worst was the frozen turkey,” Glen said, and proceeded to describe the finishing touch to his disaster dinner. By the time he was done, Bob and Joy's other party guests were nearly in hysterics. “I don't want to be a woman for Christmas ever again,” he concluded.

“You won't have to be,” Laura assured him, patting his leg. “Just a helpful husband.”

“That I can handle. Man, what a nightmare this all was.”

“You did do okay with the costume for the Christmas pageant at church,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “Real hard. We were down to one bag.”

Pete gestured to Bob's disaster tree. “At least you got the tree right, and that's more than Bob can say.”

Bob pointed a warning finger at him. “No fishing for compliments, Martha Stewart. My tree may not have won any contest, but it makes a statement.”

“I hope you're not fixing to tell us what it says,” Sharon said in disgust.

Whatever it said, it had been the perfect tree to shelter all the funny white elephant gifts the Stitch 'N Bitchers and their husbands had just finished fighting over.

“Well, I have to admit, I was pretty mad when Kay started this,” said Jack Carter, who was sitting on the Robertson's couch with an arm around his wife, “but at least I can see now how easy it is to get carried away with shopping.”

“He actually spent more this year than I usually do,” Kay added.

“So there was something for your children under the tree after all?” Joy asked.

Jack made a face. “Like I was going to let my kids come over and find nothing under the tree.” He shook his head at Kay. “Kay exaggerates.”

Kay said nothing. She didn't need to. Her smug smile and the new bit of bling-bling on her finger said it all. Her cheapskate husband had learned his lesson.

“Hey, any progress on finding the crooks who ran that Web site?” Glen asked Bob.

Bob shook his head. “Not that I know of. Don't hold your breath about getting any of the merchandise you ordered.”

Glen shrugged. “Oh, well. We made out okay anyway. But, let me tell you, I'm sure glad I'm not in charge of the shopping next year.” Looking at his wife, he quickly added, “But I'm helping with it. I'm helping with everything.”

“It's almost midnight,” Joy said, passing around the plate with Bob's bonbons one last time. “Let's break out the champagne.”

Bob and Glen disappeared into the kitchen to open bottles and Carol helped Joy set out the glasses.

“I wish Jerri could have been here for this,” Carol said.

“Me, too,” said Joy. Wouldn't she have loved to see Carol in her new, red sweater, smiling across the room at Darren. He was looking at her like she was blond gingerbread, and Joy suspected the new year was going to bring serious romance into Carol's life. And she hoped it would bring a complete recovery and perfect health to Jerri's. “Next year she'll be here.”

A loud pop proclaimed the champagne ready, and everyone gathered around the dining room table while Joy and Carol poured it.

With the glasses filled, they all looked to Bob for a toast.

He cleared his throat. “Well, here's to our successful negotiations and an end to the strike.”

“Amen to that,” Glen said heartily. “And here's to Christmas being a lot better next year.”

“And maybe a little messier,” Sharon added, smiling at her husband.

Joy decided her Christmas couldn't get much better than this one had turned out. Bob had really come through, and for the first time in many years, she had felt like they were a couple at her family's holiday gathering. It had been the perfect Christmas. And tonight's party had been perfect, too. Not too many people, which made Bob happy, but plenty of fun, which was all she needed to rev her batteries for the New Year.

Everyone clinked glasses and guzzled champagne; then, shortly after, the party broke up.

“Hey man, great time,” Glen said to Bob as they were leaving.

Bob put an arm around his wife. “We'll do it again next year.”

You can also make this with vanilla ice cream and a drop of red food coloring, if you can't find peppermint ice cream or if you want a more delicate flavor.

Combine all ingredients in blender and blend just until smooth. Serve in a champagne flute or margarita glass and garnish with a small peppermint stick. Pour in just a dab more club soda to add decorative fizz.
Makes 1 drink.

1. Prepare stuffing on the stovetop according to package directions. After it has set the required number of minutes, cut up the cream cheese and stir it into the stuffing with the cranberries and pecans, if using.

2. Take out 4 sheets of phyllo dough and spread them on a counter, keeping them stacked one on top of each other. Peel back the top three layers and brush the bottom layer lightly with oil or melted butter. Then drop the third layer back over it and brush that. Repeat the process with the second and first layers. Phyllo dough can be intimidating because it tears so easily, but don't worry. A tear here or there won't matter. Cut the stack in quarters and cut each quarter into quarters again. You should now have 16 small stacks with each stack containing 4 sheets.

3. Take the top 2 sheets from each of your 16 stacks and lay them in a greased muffin tin. Spoon in 1 to 2 soup-spoon-size helpings of the stuffing, then top with the remaining sheets and fold them over the bottom so it looks like a little bundle. If the bundles look dry, brush lightly with oil. Bake at 350° F. for about 8 minutes (no longer than 10—this stuff browns quickly!).
Makes 16 appetizers.