The Christmas House Read Free Page B

returned a single tender kiss.
         Bill leaned back from Alyce and removed his tie and started to unbutton his shirt. As she watched him unbutton the last button of his shirt, she crawled across the bed toward the candle sitting on the side dresser and softly blew out the flame.
         Back downstairs, several people were talking in the family room. A magnificently decorated oversized Christmas tree stood 12 feet tall in the far corner of the room. A pine cone stalked fire in the large stone fireplace was blazing nicely as the scent from the logs filled the room and enhanced the evergreen odor that emanated from the freshly cut pine tree. This room was by far the largest room in the house. Several sofas and large formal chairs hardly made a dent to the massive space available.
         As the conversation continued other guests passed through the family room from the kitchen and into the dining room to refill their plates with delicate pastries. The sweet smell of a cigar was ever present as an older gentleman sitting in a large leather recliner near the fireplace began to talk.
         “In my day, we didn’t have these modern conveniences such as phonographs and televisions? Ha, we listened to the radio every night and sang along with Mitch. Those were the good old days.”
         “Oh Grandpa William, you have to stop living in the past, after all this is 1948,” a woman in her late fifties replied.
        “Della, no it’s not. It’s 1944!” another woman said.
         Many others started to shout out years. “It’s 1905.” “It’s 1938.” “It’s 1951.”
         Laughter filled the room as the debate continued. The tip of Grandpa’s cigar brightly glowed orange as he puffed away in earnest.
         As the merriment continued, the grandfather clock chimed 12 times. It was finally Christmas Day. All of the guests gathered into the family room to sing “Silent Night.”
         As Martha slept soundly in the comfortable Queen Anne chair and Bill and Alyce made love in the guestroom directly above, the activity of the house settled into silence. Only the softly sung rendition of the traditional Christmas favorite could be heard as the night air surrounding house became frigid and stagnate.
         Christmas Day 6:00 a.m.
         Six hours later, Martha awoke from a well-deserved and peaceful sleep. As she rose from the chair where she slumbered the night away, she stretched her arms over her head and yawned thunderously. She placed her hands on her lower back and reared her head as if to say, “I should know better than to sleep in that chair all night.”
    As she slowly walked from the living room to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, she made note of her guests still fast asleep. The children were scattered throughout the house. Some were lying on the floor cuddled, with a dog or two. Many guests not fortunate enough to secure one of the bedrooms upstairs, managed to negotiate sections of numerous sofas on the main level. As Martha entered the kitchen a lone yet awake gentleman greeted her.
         “Uncle Morty, are you already up this early on Christmas morning?”
         “I just couldn’t sleep Martha. You know how I am. We only get this opportunity once a year and I’ll be damned if I’m going to waste it sleeping!” replied Uncle Morty who was an older gentleman in his late sixties. Black horn-rimmed glasses framed his broad face as they perched on his aculeous nose. His bald head reflected the round florescent light mounted to the ceiling directly above.
         “Well, I will start a pot of coffee for you,” Martha said as she smiled.
         “Already done sweetie. Help yourself ,” he replied as he raised his cup.
         Martha didn’t seem surprised as she reached into the cupboard and retrieved a small, bone white china coffee cup. As she took the coffeepot off the stove and poured herself a cup, the steam from the pot softly caressed her