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  Uncle George immediately approached Grandma and knelt down before her while shaking out of apparent nervousness. Then he kissed her feet, “Blessed be thy feet that have brought thee in these ways.” Then he kissed her knees, “Blessed be thy knees that shall kneel at the sacred altar.” Then he kissed her womb, “Blessed be thy womb, without which we would not be.”

  Grandpa rushed over and interrupted Uncle George. “Easy George! This is just a Christmas get-together. You needn't greet my wife that way all the time!”

  “Sorry, I was just… well, I thought…”

  Grandpa put the words in George's mouth, “You thought it would be a clever way to inch your way up and bless my wife's breasts by kissing them, right?”

  Grandma was shocked. “Herbert!”

  Uncle George, too, was shocked and at a loss of words. “I'm sorry…”

  “It's okay.” answered Grandpa. “I mean with the way my wife flaunts her smooth bosom, it's enough to tempt anyone.”

  Again, Grandma was shocked “Herbert! What's gotten into you?”

  Grandpa apparently felt that the situation was over, and immediately changed the topic. “So how are your paintings coming along, Amber? Oh, and how rude of me! Would you like something to drink?” He motioned to the bar while offering.

  “What's everyone else having?” asked Amber.

  A few raised their glasses.

  “Egg nog…”

  “Egg nog…”

  “Egg nog…”

  “We're all pretty much having the egg nog.” said another to speak for the rest of them.

  Amber made her selection, “I guess I'll have the egg nog, too.”

  “Me too.” said Amber's sister. “It's heavy with rum, right?”

  “As usual!” reassured Grandpa. “And how about you, Trista? You're a young lady, now. Egg nog?”

  Amber spoke for her daughter. “I think not! No daughter of mine will walk around with liquor on her breath!”

  Amber's sister put her arm around Trista's shoulder while whispering, “You need to come over to your Aunt's house more often. I'm more fun than your mother.”

  Amber appeared to see the humor in her sister's comment, but maintained her strict guidance as a mother of a teenage daughter. “Stop it! She's not drinking!”

  “Oh, like you never drank in high school!” answered Amber's sister.

  Amber finally gave in. “Fine, just one; and only one!”

  Grandpa fixed egg nogs for Amber, Amber's sister and Trista. “Very good! It's Christmas and we should all have fun. Anyone else want a refill?”

  “Me!”

  “Me!”

  “I'll have another.”

  Now the Christmas bar tender, Grandpa maintained conversation with Mother while preparing even more drinks. “So about those paintings; how are they coming along?”

  It was in this moment when Trista suspected that Grandpa was the motivator behind Mother's sudden hobby.

  Mother answered, “They're getting more detailed. I find that atmospheric color is one of the key effects.”

  “Very good!” commented Grandpa. “I've been doing my paintings for years and find that each one becomes all the more powerful.” He approached Amber, her sister and Trista and handed them their drinks. Then he walked back to the bar to pour himself another Scotch whiskey. It was his beverage of choice. Grandpa appeared to be the retired businessman who continued to wear suits with neckties. Drinking Scotch whiskey added to the wild and entrepreneurial sophistication. Trista was never sure as to what Grandpa did, exactly, to make himself wealthy. It was something to do with real estate investments, or possibly sales.

  Grandpa continued, “I think the most dramatic painting I ever made is hung in my study.” He walked to the stairs to ascend the second level.

  “Herbert, it's Christmas. No one wants to see that stuff.” said Grandma.

  But Grandpa insisted, “No, no; let me bring it down! Amber needs to see this one!”

  Grandma shook her head and sighed, then spoke to Amber's sister. “So how are things back in Mapleview? How's the house?”

  “Oh, it's great! I just did some re-decorating throughout the main level. You should come out some time and check it out.”

  Moments later Grandpa returned with a large, framed portrait and held it up for everyone to see. “Now here's one of my favorites.” The subject of the painting looked to be some business colleague of Grandpa's who might have done him wrong at one time or another. Trista assumed this because the man in a suit sat in the driver's seat of a car that was engulfed by a raging fire. Not only did the expression on his face exhibit terror in his final moments alive, but Grandpa also exaggerated some greedy, backstabbing characteristics around the business colleague's mouth and eyes.

  One could nearly hear the man screaming as he was trapped in that burning car. Outside of the car's interior, the man and the raging flames; everything else was pitch black which added to the eeriness.

  Grandpa began to comment, “The amazing thing about this portrait is the fact that Dale Jensen…”

  Grandma immediately cleared her throat and interrupted. “Herbert, put your gallery of horror away. It's Christmas!” She motioned her eyes towards Trista.

  “Oh, very well. I suppose you're right.” But then before bringing the portrait back upstairs, Grandpa mentioned a new work of art that was still in the stage of conception. “I've been dreaming up a sculpture. We could do it so well. All I need is…”

  Again, Grandma quickly interrupted. “Herbert! You really need to bring that back upstairs, and I don't want to say anything else about it!” She motioned her eyes towards Trista.

  Just like all intelligent girls her age, Trista was highly observant of her surroundings and knew there was some God-awful horror behind Grandpa's artwork that she could not be aware of. Grandma did her best to maintain some sense of normalcy in that house, and cover who and what the residents really were.

  Grandma stood up from her seat. “Well, who wants to help me finish some things up in the kitchen? I bet that ham is almost done.”

  Chapter 32

  Although just about everyone in Mapleview were having a lovely Christmas celebration, the same could not be said of the family get together at Loraine Trivelli's house. Daren brought with him an unusual style of Christmas cheer. Upon its display, one might expect the Trivelli family to exclude him from next year's celebration.

  * * *

  While driving to Aunt Loraine's house later that afternoon, Mary witnessed a dramatic change in her husband—a return to the monster he was on Christmas Eve. It was as-if he had become possessed by some ugly spirit while turning into Aunt Loraine's subdivision.

  “Do me a favor?” asked Daren. “Don't be a bitch while you're with your family. Try acting like my wife for a change.”

  Mary was flabbergasted. “Daren, what are you talking about? What's wrong with you?”

  “You heard me!” Daren whipped around the corner onto Aunt Loraine's street which caused the tires to screech. The sound of Mary's Italian cream cake and her seven-layer taco dip could be heard thudding in the back trunk. Two days of labor were spent on Mary's precious cake. Surely it was now smashed on one of the sides.

  “Daren, I have a cake back there! What's wrong with you?”

  Daren exploded. “Shut the hell up! You better not ruin the afternoon for me!” It was as-if Daren needed to project his negative emotions onto Mary so that she acted just like him while entering Aunt Loraine's house.

  Daren stopped at the driveway of Loraine Trivelli's house and exclaimed, “What the hell is this?” Apparently, one of the children of the family brought a new sled to Aunt Loraine's house. Or maybe this child received it from Aunt Loraine as a Christmas present. Whatever the reality, it now lay in the driveway, blocking Daren's ability to enter and park. He lay on the horn to summon the attention of the sled's owner.

  Mary was becoming embarrassed. “Daren, what are you doing?”

  “Shut up! They s
hould know better than to leave a sled in the driveway.”

  No one seemed to be running out for the sled. Being the case, Daren saw it fit to just drive over the sled, smashing into several pieces as the tires rolled over. “That's the way we do it around here! No courtesy for me, no courtesy for you!”

  Now Mary was outraged! “Daren, you are such a jackass! You didn't want me to ruin Christmas? More like you're ruining the afternoon for everyone else!”

  Daren retorted, “You haven't seen anything, yet!”

  While both Mary and Daren exited the vehicle; little Courtney, Mary's niece, ran out of Aunt Loraine's house, crying. Apparently the sled belonged to her.

  Daren soon informed the little girl, “Sorry about the sled. That's just what happens in life. You get in someone's way, they run you over!”

  And if the asinine statement to a child didn't flabbergast Mary enough, Daren's next act did!

  Daren turned to his wife, “Here, get your cake and dip out of the trunk.” Then he threw the keys at her.

  Mary isn't the greatest when it comes to catching. Instead of grabbing the keys in midair, they fell onto the wet, salty driveway. And she soon figured out that both her Italian cream cake and seven-layer taco dip would have to be carried into the house by herself. Daren wasn't going to help. He strolled up to the house with attitude, clicking his boots onto the sidewalk. And then he stuck his tongue out at little Courtney's brother who ran outside to witness the disaster to the sled.

  Aunt Loraine greeted Daren at the door. “Well hello, Daren. Merry Christmas. You're welcome to join us for dinner.”

  “You're damn right I'm welcome! Now look out!” He nearly trampled over Aunt Loraine while entering the house. And while wiping off his boots in the foyer, Mary's brother angrily approached.

  “Hey, you gonna pay for that sled? Huh?”

  Daren wasn't concerned about Mary's brother. He had his trusty wad of cash in the front pocket. He simply pulled it out in front of Mary's, brother's face. “You want me to buy you a new sled? Here! Here's a couple hundred bucks! Go buy your kids a real sled for Christmas!” Then he slapped the money onto Mary's, brother's chest; nearly pushing the man into the wall.

  In the family room, everyone stood around the hors d'oeuvres table with their cocktails and small plates. The room grew silent as Daren entered.

  “Hey, it's the happy Trivelli family! Merry Christmas to you all!”

  A couple people halfheartedly acknowledged Daren's greeting. “Merry Christmas…” No one on Mary's side of the family liked Daren. Not only did he make this day very sad for little Courtney and her brother, but the family held a dark suspicion over Daren.

  “So what do we have for appetizers?” Daren walked over to the hors d'oeuvres table and checked out the items on display. While everyone else politely loaded items on their small plates to snack on; Daren simply grabbed a few jumbo shrimp, dipped them in the cocktail sauce and took a bite. For more of an offensive display, he merely leaned over the cocktail sauce while doing this. It's not so bad to allow crumbs and dribble to land back into the food that everyone else wishes to eat.

  Then he spotted two open bottles of wine at the end of the table. One of them was a bottle of imported Argentina Malbec. Rather than use one of the wine glasses provided, Daren helped himself to one of Aunt Loraine's 16 ounce tumbler glasses at the dry bar.

  Paying no mind to possibly bruising the precious Argentina Malbec, he emptied the contents of the bottle so lively, making that harsh “glub, glub, glub” noise. By the time the tumbler had been filled, only a half glass worth of Malbec remained. No problem for Daren! He simply tipped the bottle to his mouth and drunk the remains. Then he tossed the empty bottle into the garbage can. Its noise drew brief attention from everyone else.

  Just then, Mary entered the family room. Of course everyone loves sweet Mary. Mother, Father and siblings were so happy to see her.

  “Hi Mary…!”

  “Mary…!”

  “Alright, what did Mary bring us…?”

  “Merry Christmas…!”

  Additional family members surrounded her and offered loving embraces and kisses to her rosy cheeks. Through all this, she briefly glanced over to Daren with eyes of fire. He was on her garbage list for the rest of the day. And there would no sex later that night!

  Mary brought her Italian cream cake and seven-layer taco dip over to the table as Daren bit into a cracker that was topped with cheese and deer meat sausage. Just like before, he leaned in so that all his crumbs would fall back into the tray.

  Then he looked over at his wife in surprise. “What's wrong with you? Why the face?”

  Mary softly growled, “Use a plate!”

  Daren took a few gulps of his 16 ounce tumbler of wine. It was going to be a long afternoon with the Trivelli family. And already his wife was being a bitch!

  Moments later, Mary called from in the hallway while standing next to Aunt Loraine. “Daren?” She signaled him over once he looked up.

  Reluctantly, Daren approached with his nearly finished 16 ounce tumbler of Argentina Malbec. Aunt Loraine had a bitter expression on her face. He was soon motioned to follow into the kitchen for a private chat with Aunt Loraine.

  She was blunt and direct with Daren. “Listen, if you're not going to act right, today, I'm going to ask you to leave. I can always take my niece home at the end of the day. No one wants you here to ruin the afternoon.”

  Daren finished the remains of his 16 ounce tumbler and then spoke while pointing his finger at Aunt Loraine. “Now you listen here. Don't you start with me. You've had a problem with me ever since I got here. In fact, you've had a problem with me ever since I married your niece.”

  Aunt Loraine had plenty of ammunition and started with only the recent fifteen minutes. “Well why wouldn't I have a problem with you? You ran over the kids' sled with your car; you're insulting people and throwing money at them; you're acting rude and obnoxious at the hors d'oeuvres table; and now you're getting drunk! Does that sound like the sort of person I want at my Christmas party?”

  How Daren hated Aunt Loraine! His rage grew with every word spoken by the woman. “Loraine, I'm telling you; don't you start with me! You don't want to start with me. You start with me, and I'll tell you something you're not going to believe!”

  What possibly could the family jerk have to say that would disturb Loraine so badly? She dared him. “Really? Like what?”

  That's when Daren responded with the most illogical, lowest and uneducated assault of words. It's difficult to describe the offensive verve in which he said it. But he rudely pointed his finger in Aunt Loraine's face and voiced a harsh wish of fornication.

  It was such a silly and immature thing to tell someone. And really the only reason Aunt Loraine was so angered at that moment was the fact that Daren truly believed his profanity made a harsh impact on her. He proudly walked away as if victory was had. How else would you expect a drunk to behave?

  In need to bring his nerves down, Daren returned to the end of the hors d'oeuvres table and picked up a half drunk bottle of Charles Shaw Merlot. Again, he paid no mind to bruising the wine as the nasty, “glub, glub, glub” sound could be heard while filling his 16 ounce glass tumbler. But this time there were no remains in the bottle. He simply tossed it in the garbage can which clinked against the empty bottle of Malbec.

  One of the family members who grew tired of Daren's presence and behavior sharply announced, “I guess I'll open up another bottle for us all.”

  Daren took a few gulps from the glass and then helped himself to more hors d'oeuvres. Mary's seven-layer taco dip was assaulted by Daren's aggressive nacho chips. And he was sure to lean over it while taking a bite.

  Several minutes passed as Daren stood in the corner, finishing his second 16 ounce tumbler of wine. He watched everyone in disgust and resented their animosity towards him. With an empty stomach that had been hit with a flood of 32 ounces of wine (two different types, mind you!), Daren was pretty mu
ch drunk. In this state, his dark emotions emerged. And there was no holding back!

  “You know what I just realized?”

  The chatter of people lowered as Daren's loud voice broke through. Mary buried her face in her hands. “What is he going to do, now?”

  “I just realized that all you people think that I had something to do with Kelly's disappearance!”

  Mary yelled out, “Daren! Stop it! You're drunk!”

  “No, no; it's fine, Babe. This needs to come out in the open. You all think that I fooled around with her when she was living with us, don't you?”

  The expressions on people's faces ranged from anger to disbelief. How dare he mention poor Kelly during a family gathering on Christmas Day?

  “In fact, you all think that I did something to her—killed her to cover up what happened!”

  Mary's face was flustered with tears. “Daren, you are such a jerk! Why did I even marry you?” She stormed out of the family room while controlling her sobs. As usual, Daren wrecked another family get-together.

  Chapter 33

  I suppose women secretly fancy themselves as the hero in a discordant marriage or some other harmful relationship with an overly-temperamental man. Behind all his sudden transformations into an ugly monster, the woman knows that a compassionate and loving man is trapped. One day she can rescue him.

  After a display such as Daren's on Christmas Day, one would expect Mary to have divorced him. But she simply went home with him that night, merely exhibiting a bitter attitude and then serving the proper three days' silent treatment. And rest assured, by New Years Eve at the stroke of midnight, she and Daren welcomed the New Year with a loving kiss.

  But what was this? In less than a week later, Daren paid a visit to the Mapleview department store; in particular, the jewelry department. He did this on a Tuesday morning, assuming that holiday help had been laid off and Amber worked the counter alone.

  Unfortunately, Amber recognized Daren as he approached the counter while flipping through his ridiculous wad of cash. Recalling the strange customer forced Amber to greet him as-if he had made an impact on his last visit.