December- A Secret Santa Gift for Lolitaray
December 1963
It was their first Christmas together, and Alma had told him she was pregnant a couple of weeks ago.
He was happy, although he had thought it would take a little longer. It made him feel good that he had gotten her pregnant so soon, though. Made him feel normal, like a real man.
They didn’t have any extra money for gifts, but Ennis had a surprise for Alma anyway. One of the guys he worked with had given him a baby crib he and his wife didn’t need anymore. “She told me she was done havin’ babies, had her tubes tied after the last one,” he told Ennis.
So after Alma went to bed on Christmas Eve, Ennis put the crib together, setting it up next to the skinny little tree Ennis had cut in the woods.
Alma was so happy when she saw it.
Ennis tried to be happy, too.
He wondered how Jack was spending Christmas. Maybe the Army got him. Maybe he was in Germany or Hawaii or someplace strange like that.
One thing for sure, he wasn’t here.
December 1967
Alma was tired all the time.
Ennis knew it wasn’t easy having a three- and- a- half- year- old and an eighteen- month- old. Jenny was into everything, and Junior was cranky and clingy.
Ennis was tired, too. Ranch work wasn’t easy, and he knew it was hard on Alma that the hours weren’t regular.
But he couldn’t help it that animals decided to give birth at all hours of the night, or that sometimes a sick horse needed tending. He was doing the best he could.
He wondered if Alma knew how hard he was trying.
They’d managed to get three or four presents apiece for the girls, and Alma’s sister was always generous. She lorded it over them some, with her fancy house and her husband’s good job, but Ennis guessed that was just human nature.
His life felt like a dead-end road sometimes, but he didn’t see any way out of it but to stick with what he had.
When he thought about Jack, he hoped he was happy. Hoped all those big dreams and big plans had come true.
December 1970
He and Alma weren’t getting along real well. Alma was tired of being broke, and he couldn’t blame her for that.
He wished she’d shut up about the power company, though.
He tried to be a good father to the girls. He was crazy about them, their sweet faces lighting up when he got home from work, saying, “Daddy, Daddy…”
But he always wondered what he had to offer them. Wondered if there would ever be a time when he wouldn’t have to worry about paying the doctor’s bills, and putting food on the table, and his girls looking up with big eyes when he and Alma yelled at each other.
Seemed like the only bright spot in his life was Jack.
He was so grateful that Jack had found him a couple of years ago. Jack was always the brave one, the one with ideas and plans.
He knew that he would never have looked Jack up, and when he thought about it, he didn’t like himself for not going after what he wanted.
So he didn’t think about it much.
He’d seen him three or four times a year, and once a trip was over he started counting down until the next one.
Alma and the girls went to the Christmas Eve service, but Ennis stayed home and got drunk.
It was easier to call up Jack’s image drunk than sober.
December 1974
The girls were nine and seven now, and he didn’t feel like he knew them all that well anymore. Seemed like all they cared about was girl stuff, music he didn’t like and tv shows he didn’t understand.
He’d picked them up on the 24th, took them out for a lonely dinner with all the other divorced dads at the Denny’s a couple of towns over.
He knew they were both into Barbies, so he bought them a couple of outfits apiece for their dolls. Felt like a fool going into the Toys R Us and poring over the outfits, trying to remember which ones the girls already had and balancing that against how much he could afford.
He’d thought it would be easier to see Jack after the divorce, but it turned out to be just the opposite. The constant financial pressure of child support made it harder to take time off.
When he and Alma were together, if he had a bad month they got through it together. But now if he had a bad month, he got a letter from the county prosecutor telling him he was behind on his child support and he could get thrown in jail.
It wasn’t like he was going to make any money in jail, but it was what it was.
Anyway, he was planning on meeting up with Jack in March.
He was looking forward to that. One of Jack’s smiles was enough to get through a lot of hard days.
December 1978
He’d only seen Jack three times the past year, and it wasn’t enough.
Sometimes it almost felt like he was married to Alma again, the way he and Jack bickered.
He knew he wasn’t giving Jack what he wanted, and sometimes even when they were together he could sense that Jack was keeping things from him.
His fault, really.
He had to give it to Jack, he complained a lot about little stuff, but when it came to the big stuff, he never complained.
He took Ennis as he was, and he didn’t whine about it. He just got sadder.
But he had a surprise for him this year. He’d borrowed Don Wroe’s cabin.
There would be a real bed for them to make love in, and a fireplace they could drink their whiskey in front of, warm as toast.
Jack wouldn’t be cold. He’d like that.
It was their first Christmas together, and Alma had told him she was pregnant a couple of weeks ago.
He was happy, although he had thought it would take a little longer. It made him feel good that he had gotten her pregnant so soon, though. Made him feel normal, like a real man.
They didn’t have any extra money for gifts, but Ennis had a surprise for Alma anyway. One of the guys he worked with had given him a baby crib he and his wife didn’t need anymore. “She told me she was done havin’ babies, had her tubes tied after the last one,” he told Ennis.
So after Alma went to bed on Christmas Eve, Ennis put the crib together, setting it up next to the skinny little tree Ennis had cut in the woods.
Alma was so happy when she saw it.
Ennis tried to be happy, too.
He wondered how Jack was spending Christmas. Maybe the Army got him. Maybe he was in Germany or Hawaii or someplace strange like that.
One thing for sure, he wasn’t here.
December 1967
Alma was tired all the time.
Ennis knew it wasn’t easy having a three- and- a- half- year- old and an eighteen- month- old. Jenny was into everything, and Junior was cranky and clingy.
Ennis was tired, too. Ranch work wasn’t easy, and he knew it was hard on Alma that the hours weren’t regular.
But he couldn’t help it that animals decided to give birth at all hours of the night, or that sometimes a sick horse needed tending. He was doing the best he could.
He wondered if Alma knew how hard he was trying.
They’d managed to get three or four presents apiece for the girls, and Alma’s sister was always generous. She lorded it over them some, with her fancy house and her husband’s good job, but Ennis guessed that was just human nature.
His life felt like a dead-end road sometimes, but he didn’t see any way out of it but to stick with what he had.
When he thought about Jack, he hoped he was happy. Hoped all those big dreams and big plans had come true.
December 1970
He and Alma weren’t getting along real well. Alma was tired of being broke, and he couldn’t blame her for that.
He wished she’d shut up about the power company, though.
He tried to be a good father to the girls. He was crazy about them, their sweet faces lighting up when he got home from work, saying, “Daddy, Daddy…”
But he always wondered what he had to offer them. Wondered if there would ever be a time when he wouldn’t have to worry about paying the doctor’s bills, and putting food on the table, and his girls looking up with big eyes when he and Alma yelled at each other.
Seemed like the only bright spot in his life was Jack.
He was so grateful that Jack had found him a couple of years ago. Jack was always the brave one, the one with ideas and plans.
He knew that he would never have looked Jack up, and when he thought about it, he didn’t like himself for not going after what he wanted.
So he didn’t think about it much.
He’d seen him three or four times a year, and once a trip was over he started counting down until the next one.
Alma and the girls went to the Christmas Eve service, but Ennis stayed home and got drunk.
It was easier to call up Jack’s image drunk than sober.
December 1974
The girls were nine and seven now, and he didn’t feel like he knew them all that well anymore. Seemed like all they cared about was girl stuff, music he didn’t like and tv shows he didn’t understand.
He’d picked them up on the 24th, took them out for a lonely dinner with all the other divorced dads at the Denny’s a couple of towns over.
He knew they were both into Barbies, so he bought them a couple of outfits apiece for their dolls. Felt like a fool going into the Toys R Us and poring over the outfits, trying to remember which ones the girls already had and balancing that against how much he could afford.
He’d thought it would be easier to see Jack after the divorce, but it turned out to be just the opposite. The constant financial pressure of child support made it harder to take time off.
When he and Alma were together, if he had a bad month they got through it together. But now if he had a bad month, he got a letter from the county prosecutor telling him he was behind on his child support and he could get thrown in jail.
It wasn’t like he was going to make any money in jail, but it was what it was.
Anyway, he was planning on meeting up with Jack in March.
He was looking forward to that. One of Jack’s smiles was enough to get through a lot of hard days.
December 1978
He’d only seen Jack three times the past year, and it wasn’t enough.
Sometimes it almost felt like he was married to Alma again, the way he and Jack bickered.
He knew he wasn’t giving Jack what he wanted, and sometimes even when they were together he could sense that Jack was keeping things from him.
His fault, really.
He had to give it to Jack, he complained a lot about little stuff, but when it came to the big stuff, he never complained.
He took Ennis as he was, and he didn’t whine about it. He just got sadder.
But he had a surprise for him this year. He’d borrowed Don Wroe’s cabin.
There would be a real bed for them to make love in, and a fireplace they could drink their whiskey in front of, warm as toast.
Jack wouldn’t be cold. He’d like that.