Page 46 of Hostile for the Holidays

“Wow, this nineteen seventies banger is really setting the holiday mood,” I say.

“We’re cultivating our wedding reception playlist. Any requests?” Tom asks.

“Actually,” Sadie interjects, “we’re not taking requests because I already have over eight hours of music and I’m trying to whittle it down to six.”

“Any Christmas music by chance?” I ask. “You know, since it’s the holidays.”

“Yeah, but Christmas will be over then, and everyone will be tired of hearing it, so no.”

“Hey, Stell-bell,” my dad says, walking in with a beer, “you want to play a game?”

“What are you playing?” I drop into the empty seat at the head of the table.

“Seating charts,” my mom responds, following him in from the kitchen with a large paper layout of the reception venue and a stack of small sticky notes. “It’s a puzzle and the challenge is to know all the family drama and dynamics so you don’t sit people who dislike each other together.”

“And my sorority sisters who are and aren’t speaking to each other right now,” Sadie chimes in.

I can’t help the disappointment that washes over me. I thought there might actually be a family game night.

It’s not that I don’t want to help with Sadie’s wedding to-do list, it’s just I thought there would be a balance of wedding stuff and holiday traditions. It’s becoming clearer that we’re just going to sweep past the holidays this year and try again the next. But once Sadie and Tom are married, there will be splitting time between his family and ours. I’m all too aware that I didn’t know it was happening at the time, but last year was our last time together as a family of four during the holidays.

“You’ll win that every time,” I tell my mom. “Your sisters are the ones that need to be flagged for violence.”

My dad nods. “She’s right. Janie has been on a warpath since the divorce. I’d appreciate not sitting next to her.” He writes her name on a sticky note and places it at a table on the map in the back corner.

“You can’t put Janie in the corner,” my mom insists. “She’s been through a lot. No matter how emotionally exhausting she is, she’s my sister and I love her. Just like Stella and Sadie love each other.”

“I love your crazy ass,” I tell Sadie.

“I love yours more,” she replies.

Sadie and I stick our tongues out at each other to express our sisterly love, and my mom rolls her eyes. We’re grown adults now but there’s something fun about acting like little children to bug our parents.

“What did you do today?” my mom asks.

“I went to Toys for Tiny Hearts with Jasper. We wrapped toys and then ended up driving around looking at Christmas lights.” I toss another handful of popcorn into my mouth. “Oh, and our lights look great. Dad, you must have worked all day to put them up.”

My dad thumbs through the stack of invitations, preparing to start writing names on sticky notes. “I didn’t put the lightsup. We were at the reception hall today with Tom and Sadie’s wedding planner.”

My mom sets a bowl of pretzels onto the table. “Jasper had it done.”

“What?” I reach for Sadie’s wine glass to wash back a popcorn kernel that has lodged itself in my throat.

“He called a few days ago and asked if it would be okay to have someone come hang everything. I told him it wasn’t a big deal, we’re doing a low-key Christmas this year, but he insisted and said it was a gift for you.”

I’m in shock. Jasper arranged to have my family’s house decorated for Christmas?

We used to compete about whose house was decorated the best for Christmas. Jasper would spend an entire weekend outside with his dad hanging lights, to put on a spectacular display while my dad pulled a Clark Griswald trying to untangle the messy strands from the previous year.

This year he could have easily rubbed in the fact that my family had done nothing to decorate, but instead he had the lights put up for us? I don’t understand.

“I know you and Jasper have had your differences over the years—” my mom starts.

“Differences?” Sadie scoffs. “Is that what you call being at each other’s throats for twenty years? There’s been a war going on, Mom. Stella versus Jasper. Good vs. Evil. I’m surprised there hasn’t been a standoff in our street with a catchy musical number for comedic relief.”

“Oh, likeWestside Story?” My mom sighs wistfully. “I’ve always loved that musical.”

Sadie shakes her head. “Except the characters were in love and it was their families that were the issue. So that’s not what’s happening here.”

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