Free Brenda's Christmas Desire by Sharon Kleve Page A

putting him off. I guess he just assumed I’d get a tree and decorate because my house is bigger and we’d planned to have Christmas dinner at my place.”
    “I know you care deeply about John. Maybe if you tell him how you feel about the season, it’ll help your anxiety. He’s a tough sucker; he can handle whatever you toss his way. He has to be to work as an agent for the Drug Enforcement Administration,” Corny said.
    “His work is another example of me burying my head in the sand. He’s shared quite a bit about his work with me, but I chose not to think too much about what he does. He has a couple nasty scars that he said happened while working, but I never push for more details. Call me a coward.”
    “Hey, you’re not a coward. You’ll ask John more about his job when you’re good and ready. And you’ll share your feelings about the holidays when it’s right for you.”
    “Thank you. You always say the right things,” Brenda replied as she dabbed her eyes.
    “I have another idea if you want to hear it, but this one might be a little harder.”
    “Hey, you’re my best friend. Tell me what you have on your mind.”
    “Well, have you thought of starting your own traditions with John, by toasting your parent’s full life, instead of stressing about the day?”
    “That’d be a novel idea…wouldn’t it?” Brenda replied, while thinking the idea over in her head.
    “When they died, bless her heart, your aunt thought it best to keep your holidays really low-key; no tree, no presents, and especially no lights. She told my parents, she thought those things would remind you of the crash,” Corny confessed.
    “I know. My parents were set in their traditions. They did all their shopping—including the tree—on the fifteenth of December. It didn’t matter what day of the week the fifteenth fell on. They told me they met for the first time at a tree lot and wanted to make that day their special tradition. The drunk driver who killed them had a tradition too. He drank every night after work and drove home drunk.”
    Pete broke the somber mood when he opened his beady eyes and yawned in Corny’s face.
    “Eww, ferret breath,” Corny said as she kissed him on the head.
    Pete chattered something. Brenda couldn’t understand him the way Corny could, but she could tell Corny tried to ignore him.
    “You know what I remember most about your parents?” Corny asked.
    Brenda recognized a distraction when she saw one and appreciated the gesture. “What? That they spoiled you rotten?”
    “Hey, what’s not to love?” Corny replied and took another drink of her coffee. “My most cherished memory about your mom and dad was their outrageous enthusiasm for Christmas. Your Christmas tree was always the biggest in the neighborhood and your house had the most amazing lights. Your house practically lit up the whole block. You guys put the Griswold’s to shame.”
    “We did, didn’t we? Remember the year my dad decided to put Santa and all his reindeer on the roof of our house instead of the front yard? Mom yelled for him to get down before he fell and broke his neck. He pounded on his chest when all the lights lit up and you could see Santa from the junior high school.”
    “But Santa and his crew decided they’d rather be in your yard and slid off the roof in the middle of the night and crashed into Frosty the Snowman.” Corny continued to reminisce. “Your front yard turned into a tangled mess of plastic and lights. But, your parents laughed and spent the whole day repairing the carnage and by dinner time everything was fixed and shining bright again.”
    Brenda laughed at the memory.
    “Mom teased Dad endlessly because he refused to buy a new Frosty until they went on sale after Christmas. He used duct tape to plug Frosty’s side and nobody could believe that the sucker stayed inflated the whole month.”
    “Your dad was a master with duct tape. Do you know if your Aunt Carol kept any of your family