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  Fortunately for Jim and his family, the unwrapping of presents did not mean the end of Christmas. Christmas morning also meant attending mass and properly celebrating the birth of Christ. Later that day the family would have a nice Christmas dinner. And as we've all come to understand, children play with their new toys throughout the day. Christmas is all day long! But you already know that!

  As for Mary and Daren, Christmas came to the rescue and restored some much needed peace at the Trivelli house. Christmas morning started off on the uneasy side for Mary and Daren. As Mary opened her eyes, she could smell fresh coffee brewing downstairs. This disappointed her because Mary felt that only she could brew the perfect pot of coffee. And how she needed the perfect cup after a bizarre night at the Trivelli house.

  “Good morning! Merry Christmas!” Daren was friendly and cheerful, acting as though the previous night never happened. Then he approached his wife to give an unwelcome hug. “Awe, I'm sorry Honey. I guess maybe I got a little carried away with a joke. It won't happen again; I promise. But I hope you like your Christmas presents.”

  Tears began to fall from Mary's eyes. And then she slapped her husband on the arm a few times while scolding him. “Don't ever do that, again! You really scared me last night. You don't know how close I was to calling the police.”

  Daren resumed his embrace while patting Mary on the back. “I'm so sorry. I didn't even think of that.”

  Feeling that she was on the road to reconciliation with Daren, Mary put her arms around her husband so that the two now held one another.

  Daren continued with his apologies. “And I'm so sorry about the car ride to Sillmac. You know how I am. I get so jealous when it comes to other men. You're so beautiful and it just burns me up to know that other men might try to take you from me.”

  “No one's going to take me from you, Daren.”

  Daren acknowledged, “I know… I know…” Then he loosened his embrace and looked at Mary's chest. She wasn't wearing her love pendant. It would only require a simple request. “Put your love pendant back on for me. It looked so pretty on you.”

  Mary informed him, “It's upstairs on the dresser. I'll put it on once I take my shower.”

  But Daren insisted. “Why don't you make yourself a cup of coffee? I'll go upstairs and get that love pendant for you.” And with that he dashed up into the bedroom and found it on the dresser. Daren returned to the kitchen with his arms held out in a motion to clasp it around Mary's neck.

  Mary put the cup of coffee down and pulled her beautiful hair up so Daren could put the love pendant around her neck.

  “There! Let's see it!”

  It looked so beautiful to Daren. It barely rested on the top of Mary's cleavage which caused him the sudden desire to make Christmas morning love to his wife. “Wanna have make up sex?”

  But Mary wasn't ready to fully give in to her husband. “We've got to be ready for church in an hour.”

  “Oh, come-on! Just a little 5 minute quickie?”

  Mary offered an alternative. “How about tonight?”

  It was a good enough answer for Daren; but how he missed the days before being married when sex was spontaneous and had freely.

  Christmas mass was terribly crowded as Heathens dared to enter the doors that were only walked through twice a year—Christmas and Easter. Mary and Daren attended church regularly, but were inconvenienced on this day with having to sit way in the back as much of the church was already crowded by those noisy Heathens. Kids played with their electronic games or texted their friends with their nifty, new smart phones. Adults nosily chatted as-if seated at a reception hall. Every Sunday (except Easter) those moments before the start of mass were observed in silence and in prayer or reflection. Today it was a carnival!

  At the middle of mass when “Peace be with you” greetings were given, Mary fully forgave Daren for the previous day's performance. It was Christmas and she had much to be grateful for. Surely marriage offers those dark moments that try the love of husband and wife.

  * * *

  As all of Mapleview enjoyed Christmas morning, Jim sat in the family room upon returning from church and thought of poor, lonely Ekaterina who would probably remain shut in throughout the weekend. Did she have family? Did she have people to celebrate Christmas with? It wasn't right for her to be so lonely on a holiday. With Christmas dinner some hours away, Jim decided to fabricate a cable outage; lie to his wife on Christmas Day and sneak off to the forest to visit some other woman.

  Skeeters convenient store remains open on holidays. As a little Christmas gift for Ekaterina—nothing fancy—Jim purchased a small box of cheap, off-brand chocolate candies and was sure to toss the receipt away. Kimberly certainly could be aware of mysterious chocolates purchased on Christmas Day at around the time he left for the fabricated cable outage.

  After driving up Mapleview Road and entering the old, wooded section of town; Jim pulled into the driveway of Ekaterina's originally believed house—the same house that received a couple week's worth of rose petal assault—and backed out to park off the highway. He was sure to inch his van up past the house as Ekaterina ordered two days prior.

  Crossing the highway and venturing over the guardrail on the other side of the road, Jim entered the forest and followed with near, precise accuracy the way to Ekaterina's house. Recall how it was necessary to zigzag and cross untamed, forested wilderness to reach Ekaterina's cottage. How Jim remembered this route is nothing short of phenomenal!

  “Knock-knock-knock-knock!” Jim rapped upon Ekaterina's door.

  A moment later the old woman answered, appearing half asleep and somewhat annoyed to have been disturbed from whatever she was doing. Upon recognizing Jim a second later, her facial expression softened. “Oh, hi!” Ekaterina opened the door wider and let Jim in. What could he have possibly been doing there?

  “Merry Christmas!” Jim greeted while stepping in.

  “Merry Christmas?” asked Ekaterina with a queer facial expression. Her agitated mood returned. “Oh, Russian people do not celebrate Christmas today. We celebrate Christmas on January 7th.” Of course! Being from Russia, Ekaterina was most-likely an Orthodox Christian. For them, Christmas day is on the seventh of January.

  Jim apologized, “Oh, I'm sorry! I got you a little present.”

  “Let me see!” Ekaterina snatched the box of cheap, off-brand chocolates out of Jim's hand and tore into the plastic wrapping. The box could not be opened fast enough! Ekaterina nearly shook as she placed a piece of chocolate candy in her mouth. “Mmmmmmm!” With only a few chews, the candy was swallowed and Ekaterina reached for another piece. Apparently this was her breakfast!

  “Sit down!” ordered Ekaterina as she motioned Jim over to the kitchen table. She slapped the box of candy at the center and then walked over to the cupboard for small glass. As Jim sat down, he noticed Ekaterina had additionally reached for what appeared to be a bottle of some authentic, imported Russian vodka. The writing was unrecognizable, and most-likely comprised of the Russian alphabet. The glass was set on the table and Ekaterina filled it three-quarters full. “This is my Christmas present to you. You like vodka, yes?”

  Jim stared at the juice glass filled with three-quarters of clear liquid. It was certainly a lot of vodka! Assuming the glass had the potential of holding eight ounces, there were quite possibly 3 shots of vodka in it—being that the glass was three-quarters full and the average shot glass holds two ounces.

  While Jim considered this and stared at his drink, Ekaterina reached for an identical glass and poured herself some vodka. But what was this? As she sat down, Ekaterina noticed that her guest hadn't touched his. “Go ahead! Drink it! It's good vodka. I am Russian. I know good vodka and would not give you something cheap.”

  “That's a lot of vodka.” answered Jim.

  “Nonsense! Drink it! It's Christmas, time to celebrate and enjoy.”

  At not even noon on Christmas Day, Jim raised the glass of vodka and took a sip. Immediately he coug
hed and exhaled burning heat through his lips. “Wow!”

  Ekaterina laughed. By now, half of her glass was empty. “American people are not used to vodka. You like to mix it with your drinks and add sugar. But not Russian people! Russian people drink just vodka!” She pushed the box of candy over towards Jim. “Go ahead, have a piece.”

  “Oh, I couldn't…”

  Ekaterina laughed some more, nearly cackling.”What? You think this is all the chocolate I have?” She stood up and walked over to a small cabinet against the wall near the cupboards. Upon opening it, some couple dozen bags of chocolate candies were seen. “See, I have lots of chocolate.”

  With that, Jim helped himself to a random piece from the box before him. The inner filling was strawberry. He took another sip from the glass of vodka. This time the burn wasn't so bad and not such a shock to swallow.

  Ekaterina reached for another piece of candy while asking, “So how is your Christmas at home? Everything nice? Are your wife and kids happy today?”

  “Oh yeah…” Jim took another sip of vodka. “We opened our presents this morning and then went to church. We're going to have Christmas dinner later this afternoon.”

  “Well that sounds nice. How about your girlfriend? Is everything nice with her today?”

  Jim was at a loss of words. He wasn't exactly comfortable talking about Amber, much less admitting to Ekaterina that Amber was a girlfriend or mistress. “Well, we had a little dinner a few nights ago. I won't be seeing her today. It's Christmas.”

  “No?” asked Ekaterina. “Not even a phone call or a Merry Christmas? Do you even know what she is doing today or who she is with?”

  “No, I never asked her about that.” Apparently Amber wasn't too important to Jim.

  Ekaterina gulped the remains of her vodka and then walked over to the cupboard for a glass bowl. “We should find out what your girlfriend is doing today.”

  Jim took another large sip from his glass of vodka while watching Ekaterina carry the bowl into the bathroom. He knew what was in store for him, another hypnotic session of scrying; sort of a crystal ball approach to viewing Amber's activities. Perhaps this is how Ekaterina had been watching Jim's activities in recent months.

  Sure enough, the sound of the hand pump could be heard. A moment later, Ekaterina returned and set the clear, glass bowl of water on the table before Jim. From the moment he entered the kitchen and sat down, a small candle burned on the table for light. This could now be seen through the transparent, glass bowl of water.

  Ekaterina poured another glass of vodka for herself and additionally topped off Jim's. Was Jim going to be drunk for Christmas Day?

  “You should learn some things about your girlfriend.” said Ekaterina. “What do you think she is doing today?”

  Jim took a hearty sip from the glass, “I don't know. I suppose she and her daughter are celebrating Christmas.”

  “Well does she live with family?”

  “No, she lives in a house down the street from me. It's just her and Trista.”

  “It sounds like a lonely Christmas with just the two of them.”

  “Yeah… Maybe they have family out of the area and they will be spending the day with them.” suggested Jim.

  “Maybe…”

  As Jim and Ekaterina continued to discuss Amber and her possible activities for Christmas Day, Jim imagined with such clarity a car traveling the wintery highways, en route to a family Christmas dinner.

  * * *

  In addition to her knowledge of Mother's mystical artwork in the attic, Trista held another secret. Often when visiting Grandma and Grandpa, Trista would sometimes overhear Grandma speaking to Mother and make mention of “your mother” or “your father”. It lead Trista to realize that her mother (Amber) had estranged her own parents—or vice versa.

  Trista asked Mother of this strange observation one time. “Mom, why does Grandma sometimes talk about your mother or father? Isn't Grandma and Grandpa your real mom and dad?”

  Mother returned a cold and frightening stare. “That's your Grandma and Grandpa, understand? You mind your own business when you hear adults talking.” The cold and frightening stare chilled deeper into Trista. She truly feared that look in Mother's eyes. It had such an unexplained power over her, and she dare not challenge any further while witnessing it.

  But don't think that because Trista had been spellbound with fear she wouldn't remain curious. She developed a longing for people that were fantasized as her real grandparents, real aunts, real uncles, and maybe even real cousins her own age—anyone besides those strange people that Trista was forced to visit and associate herself with from time-to-time.

  As-is the case on Christmas Day when Trista accompanied Mother and her aunt on another hour drive from Mapleview to Grandma and Grandpa's house: sitting alone in the backseat, she drunk in the beauty of winter's painted forests of Mapleview while Mother drove north on Mapleview Road, followed the curve so that they transitioned east, then made a left onto Creek Highway where they soon connected to the Interstate highway.

  Following the Interstate east, until connecting with Route 92 (runs north and south); one must continue traveling north to reach River County where Grandma and Grandpa live. At some point, the familiar Mapleview and Sillmac terrain loses its woodland appearance and exhibits landscapes of prairie and grassland. In this time of year, however, it was simply miles of wide-open, snowy fields.

  Then there's a sudden change of terrain with the appearance of towering, northern pines. It begins near an almost mountainous section of Route 92 where the road inclines for about a mile and travelers can observe magnificent scenery as they gaze at forested valleys, below. Then the road declines for another mile where travelers now find themselves following a highway that is outlined by dense, pine forests.

  “It's so beautiful in this section.” commented Amber's sister.

  “I know, with all the snow!” agreed Amber.

  Amber's sister turned to the backseat towards Trista. “Do you need a Christmas tree?”

  Trista smiled in return, covering her sudden disgust and apprehensions. Unlike Mother and her aunt, Trista didn't find this sudden change of scenery beautiful at all. Oh, she loved snowy, pine forests just like you and me. But this particular region only announced that Grandma and Grandpa's house was about fifteen minutes away. They lived out here in isolation from people and civilization. Trista wished to be anywhere but here; far away from those strange people.

  Trista didn't have any resentment towards her aunt. In fact, she developed a fondness of her. Trista couldn't recall a time when her aunt was in a bad mood. There were even times when her mood was obnoxious in comparison to a humdrum Saturday afternoon that Mother and Trista had. Still, Trista had a strong suspicion that her aunt wasn't really Mother's sister. And although she lived only a few minutes away back in Mapleview, her aunt was one of them; those strange people who lived with Grandma and Grandpa.

  One cannot see Grandma and Grandpa's house from Route 92. It was necessary for Mother to turn right onto Needle Road and follow it a good mile before reaching a decline in land elevation. Imagine a natural basin of pine forests with breathtaking acreage of wide open country at the bottom. In the center is Grandma and Grandpa's mansion. On this Christmas day it was lavishly decorated with holiday figurines, nativity scene, forest creatures and countless lights that were already illuminated.

  There was stillness and quietness in the air as Trista, Mother and her aunt exited the vehicle. The bottom of the basin was usually sheltered from strong winds while allowing a gentle breeze to flow through. Today, the only sound was the crunching of boots into icy snow. Its sound only brought with it a need to quickly enter the warm house.

  The décor of Grandma and Grandpa's mansion was rustic and Earth-toned. Trista could recall younger years of living in the Dickly castle and viewing brilliant, marble tile that paved a grand foyer. In contrast, Grandma and Grandpa's mansion immediately greeted a visitor with natural, stone tiled floor
ing—each piece with its own unique shape and natural design. The gigantic chandelier appeared to be wooden with decorative lighting that emulated candles. The bulbs even flickered like real candle flame. Furniture was either green or brown, sometimes a cranberry red. All tables, shelving units, countertops and cabinets revealed a hint of aged, country wood. And although Trista was never a fan of rustic decor, Grandma presented it in such a way so that it looked elegant and beautiful.

  “You're getting to be such fine, young lady!” Grandma placed both hands on the sides of Trista's face, gazing deeply into her eyes and adoring everything about her appearance. “Just look at you!” She pulled Trista's hands forward so that her arms were extended while continuing to admire her granddaughter. It all made Trista feel as-if Grandma had big plans for her in the future.

  “She took first place in her Violin solo.” announced Mother.

  “Yes, I know! I heard that! Congratulations Honey!”

  Trista smiled in return. “Thank you!”

  While this happened, Grandpa entered and made his greetings with hugs and kisses to Mother, Mother's sister and then finished with his lovely Granddaughter, Trista. Then he urged, “Let's go in the family room where everyone else is waiting.”

  And seated comfortably in the family room everyone was. They were the usual crowd of people, over a dozen who were encountered during a visit. These weren't guests; they were people who lived with Grandma and Grandpa for one mysterious reason or another. Originally introduced to Trista as her aunts, uncles or cousins, many of them often exhibited bizarre behavior and appeared to be quite crazy—maybe even out of touch with reality. They looked so peaceful and content while seated around the Christmas tree, enjoying their beverages and listening to orchestra Christmas music.

  Suddenly, in walked another member of the house—a male named George who was once introduced to Trista as her Uncle. For that matter, Trista referred to him as Uncle George.