in its heart-of-hearts, what the holly wreath hoped for most was carolers.
It hung on the front door, facing the street, on a house dripping with decorations. Holly’s branches were woven into a large circle, its dark green leaves shiny and pointed, clumps of red berries bright like Christmas light. A large cream bow with long ends flapped when the door moved. Two large brass bells waited at the top of the circle for any motion to make them call out.
Despite the breath-fogging chill, occasional voices twittered down the car-lined street. A pair of Steller’s jays picked at a bar of suet held in a cage-like feeder hanging from a leafless tree. A lone person sat in a cold car, rubbing their hands. Lights blinked on houses up and down the street in an excited, uncoordinated beat.
Holly watched and dreamed of greeting friends, guests, and unfamiliar family members.
Stars glimmered in the dark sky.
Breaking the sweet near-silence, an old rust-splotched Subaru turned onto the street. The Stellar’s jays took flight into the night sky. The car angled across the street to parallel park, blocking Holly’s view. Holly felt a jolt of excitement and dread. The first guests? Or rude neighbors blocking the view? The car jostled and creaked. The engine ticked.
The driver’s door creaked open and a woman stepped out onto the grass. Her eighteen or so necklaces jangled together, jingling bells and clacking beads of red, white, and green. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore three-tiered earrings of a stylized Christmas tree. She slammed the door before turning around and throwing her hands in the air, “Is anyone else coming? There’s a game on that I’d rather be watching. So stop playing Flappy-Turd or whatever on your phones. We’re going in. Now.”
The front passenger door opened and an olive stocking hat bobbed into view. “Yeah, yeah,” muttered a man’s voice as he walked to the back of the car. “You going to open the back for me, Lady-with-the-keys?”
“Oh, now you want in there. But when I ask you to bring the dang centerpiece, oh, no.”
“Look, you made the centerpiece for some weird, passive-aggressive reason. I was busy making sure all the gifts made it into the car, or would that be a lesser faux pas than forgetting an un-asked-for centerpiece for a table that’s probably already got one?”
She glared at him, clicked the keys at the trunk, and smacked the top of the car. Two heads pop up from in the back seat. “Get. Out. Of. The. Car.” She turned and walked toward the house.
Holly could see the woman’s breath while she panted in anger. Her arms were crossed, tamping the jingle of any bells. This was not how Holly thought the first arrival of guests would go. The woman kicked at one of the three-foot ornaments sitting on the lawn but pulled the kick at the last second and only tapped the decoration. Holly was getting scared about what would happen when she came to the door.
The man slammed the trunk shut again and kicked the car door. “Get out of the car, boys. We’re not going to say it again.” He waddled toward the front door, arms loaded with bags over-flowing with gifts. “Are we going in?” He gapes at the woman.
“Not until the boys are with us.”
With syncopated creaks, the boys opened their doors and climbed out of the car. Heads bent toward their phones, they slowly shut their doors and shuffled toward the house. Holly couldn’t blame them for taking their time. The shorter boy’s overly large pants were rolled up so they wouldn’t drag behind him. He was bent forward, and his hair fell in front of round cheeks. His face was lit an eerie green from the game on his phone. He carried a brown messenger bag that looked a bit moldy. The taller boy stood erect but still with head cocked toward his phone. He chuckled and tapped on his phone.
“Boys!” the woman screeched.
They both jumped. The younger shoved his phone into his messenger bag. The older put his phone in the pocket of his blue and red plaid pants, then smoothed out his red sweater. “Coming,” they both muttered.
This is it, Holly thought. It’s finally my time to shine.
The four of them stood in front of the door: the man jostling the gift bags, the boys with their hands hovering over the pockets where their phones were stashed, and the woman with eyes narrowed and arms crossed.
“Well?” she said.
“Well what?!” said the man. He held the bags of presents a little higher in a gesture at her.
“My hands are only free because we have no centerpiece to bring in.” She shrugged back at him.
Holly watched and waited. It tilted its leaves and berries to catch the light.
The man nudged the boy next to him, the older one, with the toe of his shoe.
“What?! Dad!” said the kid. He lifted his leg to inspect his pants and stark white shoes.
“Dem. Come on. Knock on the dang door.”
“Why can’t Finn do it? He’s the one you grounded.”
“Knock on the door now,” butted in the woman.
Finn snickered and muttered, “ButtsRUs.”
“Mom! Did you hear that?” Dem gestured at and then shoved his brother. “Twerp, you got me banned for changing my gamer tag!”
Finn, though much shorter, shoved Dem back. “Well, that’s what you get for—”
“Boys! Stop it. Dem, knock on the door!” The dad readjusted to catch a slipping bag.
Dem stepped forward and knocked, three sharp raps.
Okay. This is it, thought Holly again. Please be my time to shine. It was so excited, it could have burst its own berries. Holly could feel thumps inside the house, and then the door swung open. Holly wasn’t sure it could take much more bickering, the opposite of the carols it had been hoping for.
From the open door, towering over everyone, a huge grin poked out of the doorway. A velvet Santa hat covered his bald head and he wore a thick, knit cardigan with green trees and red moose over a green silk scarf. “Welcome, friend or foe!”
The woman snorted. “Foe, more likely.”
“Hey, kids. Go on in. There’s cold sodas in the fridge.”
The two boys swarmed past him and disappeared in a waft of cinnamon and Axe body spray.
“Cal, my man. Take those into the living room. Hattie’s in there and’ll help you put the gifts under the tree.” He patted the poor man’s shoulder.
“Thanks.” Cal rejostled the bags and headed inside.
“Florette! Little sister! Welcome, welcome. What a delight for me to host this year. We’ve prepared an enormous feast! There’ll be plenty for everyone. Such a nice change from last year.” He squashed her in hug.
If Holly had ears, they would have caught fire from the mutterings pouring out of Flo’s mouth. “Knock it off, Philbert.” She shoved him off and stomped into the house. If it weren’t for the swearing, one might think Santa was arriving for the jingle of all the bells.
