room, Granny said, “Now give your grandpa a hug and let's get on with Christmas.”
Jack leaned forward into his grandfather's leathery embrace, smelling the strong aftershave around his neck intermingled with cigarette smoke. They released each other and Jack went over to the couch as quietly as possible. He sat down softly then bent over to re-tie his sneakers, which allowed him to disappear.
Big Jack turned to Grandma. “We gonna have pie now or we gonna open presents?”
“Presents first, dessert later,” she said. “Ramona, set up a trash bag by the back door for the paper.” Grandma waited until Ramona started moving. “Why don't you play Santa Claus this year, son?”
Big Jack's eyes widened. He turned to his father. “Daddy, is that okay? You don't mind if I do it, do you?”
Somehow this humiliated the old man, but he tried to hide his expression. “No, I do it every year, so you go ahead.” Grandpa had always performed this function, choosing the presents to hand out and reading the name tags. From his seat on the recliner, he smiled meekly at his wife.
Big Jack stepped over to the Christmas tree and knelt. Everyone got settled behind him, taking up seats and waiting for him to offer up the first present. Digging around in the pile, he pulled out a small package wrapped in silvery-blue paper. He read the tag then set it back on the pile. After reading the tag on the next box, he turned to the room with a grin. “This one is to me from Momma and Daddy.” He turned around and tore into the package. It was open in seconds and he tossed aside the thin paper, holding up a new pocketknife in a leather sheath.
“Hot damn,” he said, opening up the knife. “It's a lock-blade.” He got up and walked around the room, showing everyone the knife. It was ten inches long when opened, with a black and green rubber grip.
Jack saw his own face reflected in the blade as his father held it near.
“Look at that, boy,” Big Jack crowed. “It's big, ain't it?”
Jack faked an expression of awe and nodded.
Grandpa got serious again. “Now we spent a lot on that so take care of it. It's a nice one…one of the most expensive knives they had at the gun shop.” He grinned at his son.
Big Jack looked back at him and nodded. “I will, Daddy.”
“Dear,” Grandma said. “Why don't you pick out one present for everyone? That way we can stay on schedule.” With a fingernail, she tapped the watch affixed to her thick wrist.
“Oh,” Big Jack said. “Alright then.” He snapped the knife closed and slipped it into his pocket. He picked out several presents, including another for himself, and distributed them around the room.
Jack sat on the couch opening an oblong package. He tore the paper slowly, afraid of appearing too greedy. He removed the paper and all the pieces of tape then folded everything up, taking it over to the plastic trash bag near the back door. Taking his place on the couch again, he opened the box carefully. It was surprisingly heavy. The lid came away, revealing a new BB gun, nested in tissue. Jack plucked off a bow and lifted the gun out of the box. All over the room, the others were opening their own packages.
“Would you look at that?” Big Jack said. “…I got a new thermos.” He focused his attention on the object in his hands.
“Well, who was it from?” Ramona asked.
Big Jack blinked. “I don't know.” He stared at her then dug around in the paper. He read the small tag and looked up at her again. “Oh…” He chuckled. “It's from you, Jack and the baby.” Then the smile faded from his face. “Though you gotta admit…you, Jack and the baby don't work out at the plant. So I sorta paid for this myself.” Ramona opened her mouth, but didn't speak. She turned her head toward the patio doors, staring into the dark backyard. Big Jack turned his attention back to the thermos and unscrewed the lid. He held it under his nose and sniffed for a long time. “Oh, man…I
Jack leaned forward into his grandfather's leathery embrace, smelling the strong aftershave around his neck intermingled with cigarette smoke. They released each other and Jack went over to the couch as quietly as possible. He sat down softly then bent over to re-tie his sneakers, which allowed him to disappear.
Big Jack turned to Grandma. “We gonna have pie now or we gonna open presents?”
“Presents first, dessert later,” she said. “Ramona, set up a trash bag by the back door for the paper.” Grandma waited until Ramona started moving. “Why don't you play Santa Claus this year, son?”
Big Jack's eyes widened. He turned to his father. “Daddy, is that okay? You don't mind if I do it, do you?”
Somehow this humiliated the old man, but he tried to hide his expression. “No, I do it every year, so you go ahead.” Grandpa had always performed this function, choosing the presents to hand out and reading the name tags. From his seat on the recliner, he smiled meekly at his wife.
Big Jack stepped over to the Christmas tree and knelt. Everyone got settled behind him, taking up seats and waiting for him to offer up the first present. Digging around in the pile, he pulled out a small package wrapped in silvery-blue paper. He read the tag then set it back on the pile. After reading the tag on the next box, he turned to the room with a grin. “This one is to me from Momma and Daddy.” He turned around and tore into the package. It was open in seconds and he tossed aside the thin paper, holding up a new pocketknife in a leather sheath.
“Hot damn,” he said, opening up the knife. “It's a lock-blade.” He got up and walked around the room, showing everyone the knife. It was ten inches long when opened, with a black and green rubber grip.
Jack saw his own face reflected in the blade as his father held it near.
“Look at that, boy,” Big Jack crowed. “It's big, ain't it?”
Jack faked an expression of awe and nodded.
Grandpa got serious again. “Now we spent a lot on that so take care of it. It's a nice one…one of the most expensive knives they had at the gun shop.” He grinned at his son.
Big Jack looked back at him and nodded. “I will, Daddy.”
“Dear,” Grandma said. “Why don't you pick out one present for everyone? That way we can stay on schedule.” With a fingernail, she tapped the watch affixed to her thick wrist.
“Oh,” Big Jack said. “Alright then.” He snapped the knife closed and slipped it into his pocket. He picked out several presents, including another for himself, and distributed them around the room.
Jack sat on the couch opening an oblong package. He tore the paper slowly, afraid of appearing too greedy. He removed the paper and all the pieces of tape then folded everything up, taking it over to the plastic trash bag near the back door. Taking his place on the couch again, he opened the box carefully. It was surprisingly heavy. The lid came away, revealing a new BB gun, nested in tissue. Jack plucked off a bow and lifted the gun out of the box. All over the room, the others were opening their own packages.
“Would you look at that?” Big Jack said. “…I got a new thermos.” He focused his attention on the object in his hands.
“Well, who was it from?” Ramona asked.
Big Jack blinked. “I don't know.” He stared at her then dug around in the paper. He read the small tag and looked up at her again. “Oh…” He chuckled. “It's from you, Jack and the baby.” Then the smile faded from his face. “Though you gotta admit…you, Jack and the baby don't work out at the plant. So I sorta paid for this myself.” Ramona opened her mouth, but didn't speak. She turned her head toward the patio doors, staring into the dark backyard. Big Jack turned his attention back to the thermos and unscrewed the lid. He held it under his nose and sniffed for a long time. “Oh, man…I
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