First Christmas by Mel

Seven Years Ago
December 24th

Early afternoon found the little neighborhood bar empty except for three men - two patrons and the bartender. The first man, Chris Larabee, was older, in his mid thirties. He muttered to himself over his whiskey, too agitated to get drunk, only getting more rancorous. "Who the hell she think she is? Tellin’ me what to do. Shoulda never got married to her. Y’get married, first thing they start tellin’ y’what to do..."

Annoyed by his lack of audience, the man turned to the other customer who sat a few barstools away from him. He had one whiskey in front of him that wasn’t going anywhere fast. He looked young, early twenties, and he had a cheap suit on. Maybe it was his birthday or something and he’d come to celebrate.

"Hey..." even that word sounded slurred. "What’s up with you? You come from a funeral or somethin’?" Chris thought he was being funny, but when the young man turned to look at him, eyes red and hopeless, Chris saw that he’d been exactly right.

"Aw hell, I’m sorry..." He tossed back his drink. "Shouldn’t y’be at a wake or somethin’? They gonna miss you if y’don’t show up?" He had to pay close attention to hear the soft answer.

"Ain’t nobody else. Was just me n’him." and he took one short sip of his whiskey.

"Your Dad?" Chris wondered why he was interested. The young man shook his head.

"My Grandpa. Always just me n’him." His breath caught then and he wiped his eyes. "Weren’t even me at the end..." Chris waited for an explanation, but none came.

"What d’you mean?"

"Couldn’t afford no stupid funeral. Not even a stinkin’ coffin." Anger grew in the young man. "Had to - had to abandon his body. Lady at the County Hospital told me, if they said nobody claimed the body, the government’d bury him out in Potters Field ‘n it wouldn’t cost me no money." He started to shake then, and more tears rolled down his face. "Shit, it cost me everything BUT money to do that..." Chris had no handkerchief on him, so he pushed a stack of paper napkins forward.

"What’s your name?"

"Why?" Clearly not a trusting soul.

"My name’s Chris Larabee."

The young man’s expression obviously registered "so?" but he answered anyway. "I’m Vin Tanner." He used a few napkins to dry his eyes. "Didn’t mean to go on." he said. "Reckon you got reasons a’your own, bein’ here." and he took one more careful sip of his drink.

"You wanna know why I’m here?" Chris asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. "Because my in-laws are comin’ over and my wife told me I had to take out the garbage and put on clean clothes..." It sounded stupid to him now. He shook his head.

"You’re lucky." Vin Tanner said.

"Lucky ‘cause I got a wife likes to boss me around?"

"Lucky ‘cause you got more’n one person in your life." The whole whiskey went down then, and Vin stood up, digging in his pockets to pay. He came up with a handful of change and most of that pennies.

"I got it." Chris said. Vin shook his head and counted his money. "I’ve got it." Chris insisted, and told the bartender. "I’m paying for him."

"...thanks..." Vin scooped his money up and started for the door.

"Hey - you got no coat?" Chris called after him.

"No...ain’t that cold out..." though snowflakes fell outside the window. "Don’t live that far away..."

"I’ll drive you." Chris put his money on the bar and pulled his coat off the stool next to him. He didn’t put it on, but draped it over his arm. "Car’s just out front." Vin eyed him suspiciously. But it was cold outside and he didn’t have a coat.

"...’preciate it...just live a couple blocks away."

Two blocks in one direction from this bar and the neighborhoods were middle class and well kept up. Two blocks in the other direction, and the neighborhoods were full of abandoned houses and overgrown yards. That was the direction Vin pointed out and Chris drove that way. The house they stopped in front of looked abandoned, but Vin said he lived in the apartment tacked onto the back.

"...’preciate the ride." He said again, opening the door to get out. "Hope you have a nice Christmas..." then he was gone, down the sideyard and into the little apartment. Chris almost wished him a nice Christmas too, but judging from Vin’s circumstances and surroundings, it seemed almost cruel to offer him only words. Chris checked his watch - still early. He wanted to buy some flowers to apologize to Mary, and he wanted to buy a few other things as well.

+ + + + + + +

The next morning, Christmas morning, Vin got dressed in his warmest clothes and headed out to noon Mass. He nearly tripped over the large cardboard box wedged in his doorway. His name was printed large and distinct on the side. He looked around but didn’t see anyone, so he pulled the box into the apartment. He had to get a kitchen knife to cut through all the tape to get the box open. Inside it, he found a brand new heavy wool jacket, and a knit hat, scarf, and gloves. He couldn’t imagine who it was from, till he opened the card sticking out of the jacket pocket.

"You have a nice Christmas too."

Four Years Ago

Christmas night. Dinner was over, darkness had fallen. Chris tapped on Vin’s bedroom door before pushing it open slightly. "Vin?" he asked quietly. His friend was in bed, laying on his side on top of the covers. "You sleeping?"

"No."

So Chris went in and sat on the edge of the bed. This was being a hard Christmas for Vin, for a lot of reasons. "Missed you downstairs. Got a card game going."

"Ezra cheats."

"Yes he does..." Chris agreed.

"I’m just tired Chris." Vin told him.

"Un hunh."

But Vin had to tell the truth. "God Chris, I want a drink so bad. If somebody told me they’d give me a drink for killin’ you, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Even if I had to use my bare hands."

"I know Vin. I’ve been there." Chris reached out to put his hand on Vin’s shoulder. "What brought this on? You been doin’ fine all day."

Vin hesitated before saying. "The biscuits." This puzzled Chris.

"Well, I know Mary’s biscuits aren’t the best in the world, but I didn’t think -"

"I stole them." Vin said abruptly. Which confused Chris even more.

"From who?"

"From you." He gave Chris a look, aggravated that he wasn’t following, and leaned over to pull his knapsack off the floor. "They was on the plate in the kitchen..." he sat up and unbuckled the canvas bag to show Chris inside. "I took ‘em."

"Vin, that’s not stealing. You know, anything you want, you don’t have to ask. Anytime you’re hungry..."

"Ain’t for here." Vin told him. "Was for home."

This worried Chris. "Don’t you have food at home?"

"I - just ain’t got to the store lately..." Vin said. Chris wasn’t making a move about the biscuits, so he buckled the bag up again and set it over the edge of the bed.

"Do you have enough money?" Chris asked. It took Vin a while to answer.

"It’s been a hard month is all. That accident weren’t my fault, still gotta pay the deductible, rent went up, gotta pay my health insurance...picked a fine season Larabee to get me to lay off drinking." But Chris didn’t answer. Vin felt his eyes on him, waiting for the whole truth.

"Got laid off." he finally admitted.

"When?"

Lord, this was going to be bad. "Last month." Vin barely squeaked out.

"Why the hell didn’t you tell me?" Chris demanded. "How long have you been without money - and food?"

"I got unemployment." Vin insisted. "I’m lookin’ for another job. It’s just takin’ awhile. I was holdin’ my own till the truck got blasted...honest I’m lookin’ for another job. It’s just hard right now."

Hard, Chris knew, for an intelligent man with barely an eighth grade education. "Let me get you in at work." he said, for the millionth time.

"Doin’ what?"

"Anything, maintenance, whatever it takes to get you in. Even maintenance would be a government job. You get health insurance, a pension, everything. You get your GED Vin, you can move up. It’s a start."

"Don’t know why you even bother." Vin said. "Why y’bother keepin’ track a’me, keepin’ me fed, wantin’ me sober. Ain’t like I got anything to offer back."

"We’re friends." Chris answered patiently. A lot of emotions went through a man trying to dry out and stay that way. Self-pity was definitely one of them. "There’s nothing else I want from you but being friends."

"But WHY?"

"I don’t know." Chris finally admitted. "It’s not pity, mighta been at first, but not for long. You’ve got a world of hurt inside of you that you try so hard to deal with on your own. The few times you do let something slip, you get this look on you like you’ve just committed the most terrible crime. I know you’re intelligent, and you care about other people, more than you care about yourself. You put up with me, times when not a lot of other people could. You’re a good man Vin, and I consider myself blessed to have you as a friend."

It was the truth, and it was overwhelmingly embarrassing for Vin to hear it. He felt his face flush hot and red, and he put his head down to keep Chris from seeing. But Chris saw. He put his hand on Vin’s shoulder again.

"Tomorrow we can work on getting your life all straightened out, all right? Tonight you come back downstairs and have some hot chocolate and Jingle cookies, and play some cards with me and the rest of the guys, okay?"

Slowly Vin nodded "Okay."

Present Day

Christmas morning, Vin stood at the top of an aluminum extension ladder, furiously trying to staple icicle lights along his roof line. "Stupid things, don’t hang right." he muttered to himself. "Directions don’t say anything about them coming out all bunched up like this...stupid lights." He twisted, untangled, stapled, then untangled some more. "Should’ve just got the old-fashioned kind, would’ve been done by now..." and stapled some more.

"Hey!" a voice called up to him. "You need some help up there?"

Vin looked down and grinned when he saw Chris. In his black jacket and jeans, he stood out starkly against the landscape of snow that’d fallen overnight. "Chris! What’re you doing here so early?" Vin abandoned his task and climbed down the ladder.

"Just came by to see if you need any help." Chris gazed up at the sorry string of lights. "Reckon it’s a good thing I did..."

"Ahh, I never done - did - this before." Vin said. "They don’t hang right."

"Once you get some current running through ‘em, they’ll warm up and hang right...you finish up there. I’ll start shoveling your walk."

"You don’t have to do that." Vin said. Chris shrugged.

"Just a Christmas present I don’t have to wrap...go on, when we’re done, you can buy me a hot chocolate."

It didn’t take Vin long to finish then. Chris helped him put the ladder away and they both shoveled the sidewalk. When they were done, they went into the small house through the front door. The lit Christmas tree sparkled in a front window. It was a large tree and took up more space than the little front room could afford. But it was Vin and Jesse’s first Christmas married and in their own house, and Chris couldn’t fault them any for a little extravagance.

They hung their jackets on the coat tree in the front hall and Vin headed for the kitchen for the hot chocolate. Chris offered to help, but Vin shook his head. "Might not be safe in the kitchen right now." he said. "This’ll be the first crowd Jesse’s had to cook for...she don’t take distractions well..." He was back in a few minutes carrying two mugs of Swiss Miss and a plate of homemade cookies on a tray.

"Nice tree." Chris said, as they sat on the couch and overstuffed chair. Vin’s eyes shone.

"First real tree I ever had. Always just had that little one." He pointed into the next room to the tiny artificial tree that now stood as centerpiece on the dining room table. Chris remembered it well. "Had that one with Grandpa. Always wanted a real one, and Jesse always HAD a real one, so it weren’t - wasn’t - so we actually agreed on something..."

"You’re having a good Christmas then." Chris asked.

"Oh yeah." Vin said and grinned. "Here, I got something for you." He went to the scatter of unopened presents under the tree and pulled one out. "I’se gonna give it to you later, after dinner, but..." he offered it to Chris.

"Well, thanks..." Chris set his hot chocolate on the coffee table and undid the bright paper. A book fell into his hands.

"That’s that poet you said you liked..." Vin told Chris, even before he had a chance to read the cover. "Couldn’t find him nowhere - anywhere - in a store around here. Got that one on Ebay. Hope y’ain’t - don’t - got -" Vin gave up trying to remember correct grammar. "Hope you like it." he said.

"I do like it." Chris said as he looked the book over. "And no, I don’t have this one already...thanks." Vin reddened at the warmth in Chris’ voice, and he ducked his head.

"You done so much for me - don’t know where I’d be if y’weren’t my friend." Vin took a swallow of his hot chocolate. "No, I do know. I’d be out in Potters Field, next to Grandpa. Froze to death on the street somewhere, or dead of alcohol poisoning. Or just give up and died ‘cause I had nothin’ else..." He tried to meet Chris’ eyes but couldn’t. "Thought it was the end of the line for me, when Grandpa died. Never imagined - sitting in that bar that day, wishing I could get drunk on one shot of whiskey - - I owe you so much Chris. I can never repay you." By the end, his voice was so soft, Chris had to listen close to hear him.

"Vin - seeing you settled and happy, and having a good life, is all that matters to me. You’ve been there for me, lots of times. There’s no such thing as ‘paying back’ between friends." Then Vin did meet his eyes, and something twinkled there. "Allright, but paying Buck back for gluing that harmonica in my tail pipe is something different entirely." and Chris was glad when Vin laughed. He finished his hot chocolate and took a few cookies for the road. "I should be heading back, as long as you got everything under control here..." Vin walked him to the front door and handed him his jacket. "See you at four." Chris said.

"Okay." Vin answered. "Thanks for stopping by." He watched out the storm door as Chris got into his truck and drove away. "Thanks for everything..."

END