The Greatest Of These Is Love Pt 08

The Greatest of These Is Love, Part 8

Continuing to follow Dawn's and John's paths ahead. For those who are familiar with my other tales, it is set in the same universe and has common characters. Reading all the other stories is not crucial to enjoying this one, but you should read Parts 1 through 7 of this story first. The number of pieces is still undetermined. This is not the end of the story, though.

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Thursday, December 24, 2020, Christmas Eve

The lesser deities of meteorology blessed both Phelps Bluff and Freedom with a light dusting of snow for Christmas Eve. It was enough to cover the ground but still melt on the roadways. It made for nearly ideal conditions for the Taggarts and the Wilsons to secure their Christmas trees and bring them home. By happy coincidence, both families observed the tradition of putting up and decorating their trees on Christmas Eve, although in different ways.

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Mid‑morning in Phelps Bluff, Josh rounded up Junior and Danny, and the three went trooping out the backyard and over the crest of the hill to a grove of white pines that had been planted years before. Josh selected one about eight feet high that was well‑shaped all around. They cut the trunk close to the ground, knowing they would have to trim more once they got it home.

It was Danny who verbalized what they all were thinking. "You know, we're gonna have to plant another row of trees out here this spring." That got nods of agreement from the other two as they tied an easily undone timber hitch around the trunk. The two strong young men teamed up and easily dragged the tree home under Josh's smiling gaze.

Dawn had remained at home with her mother and sisters, and they were baking batches of their customary Christmas cookies. The scents of cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg wafted throughout the house, giving it a homey holiday feel. The CD player was spinning a well‑loved blend of holiday tunes, and all the womenfolk had broad smiles on their faces. Gypsy was ensconced in front of the fireplace where Josh had gotten a fire going.

The guys shook the fresh snow from the branches before bringing the tree in through the front door. The ladies had cleared the customary spot between the fireplace and the doorway to the kitchen, and the tree stand was ready to receive the tree. Junior and Danny needed very little guidance to get it into the base. This was 'old hat' for them and the tree very nicely filled the space without brushing the high ceiling.

Emily left the cookie‑making to her three daughters and took up residence in her rocker as she observed her men putting up the tree. An idea struck her and she called out to Josh.

"Do you think a 'traditional' popcorn and cranberry garland would look nice on the tree this year?"

Josh thought on the idea for a minute then gave a big smile and nodded his approval.

"We'll need the popcorn and cranberries," Emily advised. "Could you please run out and get a big bag of pre-popped popcorn and a couple of bags of cranberries, honey?"

It wasn't long before Josh returned with a huge bag of popcorn and a couple of bags of cranberries. Soon, he, Junior, Danny, and Emily were focused on stringing four pieces of popcorn then one cranberry, repeatedly. It took a little practice, but the boys quickly learned the trick of how not to destroy the popcorn kernel as they poked the needle through. Gypsy was hovering, ready to gobble up any pieces that crumbled or tried to escape.

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It was early afternoon in Freedom when the four Wilsons ventured out to a Christmas Tree lot several miles away. There were other tree lots closer to home, but they were all sold out of trees. After a half‑hour of driving around, they finally found a lot with a few trees left. While the lot attendant remained near the 55‑gallon drum that housed a warming fire, the Wilsons examined every one of the trees remaining of the limited and picked over selection. Finally, they agreed that the one Susan had found was the best candidate, and they signaled the attendant.

The older man called out, "Please bring the tree here to the shed and we'll run it through the netter."

John and Owen struggled to get the tree out of the cast iron stand, but finally were able to drag it to the attendant. Under his guidance and direction, Owen got the base of the tree moving through the netter while John 'caught' it on the other side. A quick swipe of a utility knife cut the netting, and the attendant offered a fresh cut on the bottom of the trunk. The boys lifted their constrained six‑foot tall spruce and carried it to their car.

While Susan wrote out a $75 check to the sponsoring civic organization for the tree, Henry followed the boys with a ball of twine. After a little back‑and‑forth discussion about how best to get the tree home, the attendant walked up and suggested they put it into the trunk and tie the trunk as closed as possible.

"If you try to tie it to your roof rack, it'll probably roll off when you make a sharp turn, sorta like that Allstate commercial about Mayhem. Safer to put it in the trunk."

Henry appreciated the valid suggestion and said as much. The older attendant stood back and pointed and called out suggestions but let the family manhandle the tree. After ten minutes of jockeying things around, they got the trunk mostly closed and tied down with some of the twine. They thanked the old man for his guidance and got into the car.

On their way home, John asked, "Dad, why do we wait to get the next‑to‑last tree off the lot? All the decent ones are always gone by the time we get ours."

"Let's discuss that at home while we decorate it. I do have a little method to my madness. I'm not a 'Last‑Minute Lucy', although it may seem that way sometimes."

They arrived at their home without any issues, then struggled a bit getting the tree out of the trunk. Once again it was up to John and Owen to get the tree indoors. They cut the netting from the tree and examined it for the best side to face the room. There was one side that was a bit misshapen, hence why the tree had still been for sale. The ugly side was relegated to the corner. They placed the tree in the stand and added water for it to suck up.

Once they had secured the tree in the stand, the family retrieved the boxes of decorations from the upstairs closet. John had the unenviable task of untangling the lights. While he was doing this task, he pressed Henry for the promised explanation.

"I was frequently the last one picked for kickball or dodgeball because I was so unathletic. So, I have great sympathy for anything that is the least desired and last thing chosen. This poor tree would probably be relegated to the dump if we didn't buy it. Nothing and nobody ever deserves to be treated that way. So, what if there's a not‑so‑desirable side? One side must face the corner anyway. Nobody will see it. This way, the tree gets appreciated for what it does have. That's why I always wait until Christmas Eve afternoon to get a tree."

"That's also why the decorations we have are all store‑bought," Susan provided. "I agree completely with your father's justification for not getting a 'perfect' tree. It does deserve the very best in decorations, however. While I love the things you two would make for the effort you put into making them, the visual appeal simply isn't there for me. I'm sorry if this offends you."

"Nah, I get it, Mom," John replied. Although he disagreed with her on the matter, he did not think it was worth raising a fuss after the hubbub of earlier in the week. Owen simply nodded his head. It was very evident to both John and Owen that their mother was very concerned with appearances, as shallow as that was.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Owen was closest and soon returned with a plain brown paper‑wrapped package. "It was only the mailman," was all Owen said as he handed the package to John and a few Christmas cards to his mother. The Phelps Bluff postmark told John immediately who it was from. There was a bright red sticker on the package stating, "Do Not Open Until X-Mas". John chuckled as he set the package aside and proceeded to test the lights.

Susan directed where every light and bauble was placed on the tree, then liberally showered it with strands of silver tinsel. She stood back and crossed her arms as she examined the final product. With a single nod of her head, she declared the tree trimming done. John placed the parcel from Dawn under the tree once the skirt was put in place.

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With dozens of Christmas‑shaped sugar cookies cooling on the racks, Dawn and her sisters, Ginny and Jenny, joined the rest of the family in the great room. The family had retrieved the boxes of decorations from beneath the stairs. One by one, the hanging decorations were extracted and examined. There was great pride in everyone's voice when one of their decorations was held up for scrutiny. Every one of the hanging items was hand‑made, some going back fifteen years or longer. Of course, each child hung the decorations they had made, either at school, 4-H, or Sunday School.

With an eight‑foot‑tall tree, a ladder was needed for the upper branches. Ginny and Jenny were now old enough to scamper up the ladder to place things in the high branches, and there was a brief squabble about who would put the angel on the top. As this was 2020, it was Jenny's turn. As much as she wanted to, Jenny knew better than to stick her tongue out at Ginny. Still, she smirked as she carefully climbed the ladder with the crocheted angel to place it on the tip top of the tree.

"While you're up there, Jennifer Juniper, would you mind starting the garland we've been working on?" Emily asked, holding up the strung‑together popcorn and cranberries. The garland was handed up to the girl, who started a switch‑back pattern in the high branches. Emily sat watching her daughter and made a near‑heretical suggestion.

"Josh, how about this year we don't put on lights? I think the hanging decorations plus the garland are really enough decorations. We don't need to gild the lily."

"So, really an old‑fashioned Christmas tree, Em?"

"Yeah, it'd be a nice change of pace, don't you think?"

"Kids, are you okay with no lights on the tree this year?" Josh asked, seeming to give them a voice, when he'd already decided.

None of the five Taggart children wanted to be the one to gainsay their mother, regardless how they felt about the matter.

"'No lights' is fine, Daddy," Ginny said as the rest nodded.

"Okay. Let's put our gifts out and then enjoy some of those cookies you ladies were baking."

One by one, everyone went to their hiding places and returned with an armload of gifts. They each had to make a few trips; eventually, the gifts were stacked up to the bottom branches of the tree.

The Taggarts' custom was to attend the worship service at church, then return home where each person had the option of choosing a single gift and opening it. Sometimes those selections were 'guided' by the giver, frequently resulting in sleepwear or footwear for the early morning. Breakfast on Christmas morning would be delayed as nobody went to sleep much before 1:00 AM. Such was the custom Dawn and her siblings grew up with.

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The Wilsons' custom was not to place gifts beneath the tree; instead, they handed the gift directly to the recipient. They would have the gift exchange for Christmas morning after breakfast. John's grandparents would all be coming for the afternoon. They would have another gift exchange once the grandparents were there. It had been this way all of John's life, and it was a comfortable tradition for everyone. John took the parcel from Dawn and disappeared into his room to have his scheduled call with his girlfriend at 9:00 PM.

"Hi, John! I love you, so much!" he heard when the call connected.

"Hiya, sweetheart. I love you and I miss you," John responded.

"I can't talk nearly as long tonight as we did on Tuesday," Dawn advised, "but then I hope you have less to report. I still can't believe we talked for over two hours that night! I had to attach my charger to be sure our call wasn't cut off because the phone shut down."

"Same here. No, much less to report. Your package arrived, though."

"That's great, honey. Did you put it under the tree with the rest of your presents?"

"No, we hand out our gifts in person, one at a time. For some reason, we don't pile our presents under the tree. We've always done it that way, and I've never thought to question why. That's something I'll have to ask Mom and Dad about. Why can't you talk for long tonight?"

"We go to church for late night worship on Christmas Eve, then come home and open one gift. The rest we save until after breakfast."

"That's different; not unexpected really, but different."

"So, if you didn't put my gift for you under the tree, where is it?"

"It's here on my bed with me."

"Open it for me, please!" she practically begged.

"Now?"

"Sure, it's your one gift you can open on Christmas Eve."

"Okay, if you want me to..." Dawn then heard the parcel opening. "Oh, that's cool. Little snowmen with shovels on a blue background," John described the wrapping paper she'd used.

"Go on. I want to know what you think of it."

She heard the wrapping paper being carefully opened and the soft intake of John's breath. "Lemme see it, John," Dawn insisted.

John arranged his phone to stream the video, then unfolded the Travis Kelce Chief's jersey and held it up to his shoulders under his chin.

"It's perfect!" she declared.

"Dawn! How much was this?" John demanded.

"That's for me to know and you never to find out," she teased. "I got similar ones for my father and brothers, too. I had to drive past the stadium and I figured that was a place I was sure to find what I wanted. Now I have your old one and you have a new one." He heard her inhale deeply and knew she had his old jersey out and near her nose.

"I don't know what to say, Dawn. I have an idea how much this goes for new. I think we should talk about this further, but I'm also trying to be grateful for the good things that seem to be coming my way ever since we met. So, thank you, my love!"

"Oh, Johnny, you've blessed me every day since our first date. You are very welcome. Now we can walk around campus, numbers 87 and 88, obviously together. I'm gonna sleep in yours tonight after we get back."

John heard a knocking on Dawn's door and she called out, "I'll be right up."

"I've got to go now, my love. We'll talk much longer tomorrow, okay?"

"All right, my love. Give hugs to your mother and sisters for me, please. Call me whenever." John's eyes were misting over as he ended the call. "Bye."

"Bye, my love."

John sat there, holding his gift from his girlfriend and thinking about their phone calls that week.

After he had his one‑on‑one discussion with his mother on Tuesday, he was shaking with unspent adrenaline. He couldn't believe he said to her what was said. It was almost as though another spirit had entered his body and gently shoved the kind and submissive John aside. What was even more surprising was that Susan had apologized to him after they'd had their pizzas and before he retired to his room. It was still early in the process, but his mother seemed to want to repair their relationship before it was too late. She was taking the week after Christmas off just to be at home with her three men. He humorously wondered if the body snatchers had gotten to her. 'Hello, who are you and what have you done with my mom?'

The telephone call he had on Tuesday with Dawn had been very long and detailed as she had probed him for every nuance she could get.

"What would you suggest for a Christmas gift for my mother?" John had asked.

"Well, jewelry is always nice. Maybe a nice bracelet that you can add charms to? You know, something pretty but casual; something she can wear every day. What's your budget?"

"I need to keep enough to buy my bus ticket back to Springfield in January. Plus, I have to buy gifts for Owen and Dad. I'm thinking about a Home Depot gift card for Dad. That way he can buy a tool or two for whatever needed upkeep around the house, or he could use it for the garden he likes to plant out back. So, maybe $100 to $125 for Mom?" John had postulated.

"What about your brother?" Dawn had asked.

"Oh, he'll be happy with a game or two for his Xbox. Owen's never a challenge for me. Once he masters a game, he'll trade it in at Game Stop for something else. He'll play just about anything, too. So, he's not a problem."

"I've been hearing some advertisements for Pandora bracelets, but I'd be leery of the advertisement hype. Go see a jeweler who doesn't have a store in the mall. I think a bracelet with three charms, one for your father, one for you, and one for your brother, would be an excellent Christmas gift for your mother."

"Thank you, my love. Are you okay with just my old Chiefs jersey as my gift to you?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm good with it. I didn't save it for Christmas, though. I wore it as a sleep shirt last night and will do so again tonight. Mamma thinks it's cute that I'm wearing your cast‑off clothing."

They had talked about inconsequential things for a lot longer. It had been more of the same on Wednesday night, except John had detailed how he and Owen had gone out after supper in their dad's car to do their Christmas shopping. He had to patronize a jewelry store in the mall, but he had made sure it was a local store and not part of a national chain. The salesgirl had tried to direct him to the 'hot' Pandora line they had a little of, but he had resisted and was able to get a nice bracelet with three dangly things for just over $100.

Returning to the present, John rose from his bed and wandered downstairs for a cup of cocoa. He thought back on all of the twists and turns he had experienced with Dawn since their first arranged date by Dawn's roommate, Julie, and Julie's boyfriend, Tom. Not quite a 'It's a Wonderful Life' moment, but he could never have imagined the last two months. He was honest when he told Dawn that he was working on being grateful for how his life was turning out.

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It was a full worship space at the Taggarts' home church on Christmas Eve. Everyone was home from school now and extra seating had to be arranged. Fortunately, the Taggart family had arrived early enough to get a pew all together. Dawn was a little sad that her grandmother would never again enjoy Christmas with them. A touch on her shoulder roused her from her melancholy and she turned to see Bobby Wilkins grinning at her.

"Hey there, Dawn, it's great to see you again," he said.

"Bobby! You're home on break from school?" she asked her high school boyfriend. They had been quite an item during their high school years but he had broken up with her when he headed to Texas A&M to play football and she had remained in‑state. She almost hugged him by reflex but caught herself.

"Where's Linda?" Dawn asked, looking around for the dizzy peroxide blonde she had seen him with last Christmas.

"We broke it off this past November." Bobby made a quick sad face but quickly pushed that from his visage. "How long are you home on the Holiday Break?" he inquired.

"Oh, that's too bad. She seemed really into you the last time I saw you with her."

"Hey, let's get together early next week, huh? I don't go back until the eighth of January. I'd love the chance to talk with you," Bobby said with a gleam in his eye. He noted the lack of any jewelry on his old girlfriend's hands, and a smile twitched on his lips. 'This just might be a great break back at home,' he thought. He moved away before Dawn could reply.