Chapter 1
Chapter One
Tane
On December 12th, I had to admit I was homesick. I didn’t particularly want to return to Aotearoa New Zealand. No, I wanted to enjoy a proper American Christmas with my sweet boyfriend Dillon, but something in me yearned all the same.
It was a Friday morning, Dillon had left for work, and I was doing the dishes from breakfast. As I washed, I tried to untangle the melody for a new song, but thoughts of home kept on intruding.
Once all the dishes were on the rack, I went to the couch and texted Ma.
With the time difference she’d be asleep back home, but she’d reply when she had time.
Tane: Christmas is coming up, I won’t be home. What are your plans?
I don’t know why I was asking, I could easily imagine all the cousins gathering, the many aunties and uncles — blood related and not. It would be madness, too many people crammed into the kitchen to cook at once, the kids playing games and shouting, running underfoot, the farm dogs barking and chasing the kids.
There would be far too much food, a lamb rack slow cooked with rosemary, turkey stuffed with cranberry bread stuffing, hot sliced ham, trays and trays of roast potato and kumara, parsnips, pumpkin and whole cloves of garlic. Rewena to slice up and eat hot from the oven, butter melting into it, fresh green salads made from Ma’s garden and beef and mushroom stew for the old-school uncles.
There’d be too much to eat. Even though the table would be crowded with people, bumping elbows, there would be too much food. Everyone would be given leftovers to take home.
My mouth watered, able far too easily to imagine all the flavours.
I sighed.
It was always too much, too many people asking what I was up to, far too much noise, stressing me out so I was relieved by the end of the day when it was time to take off... but I missed it all the same.
That bone-tiredness I had by the end of a big family gathering was always welcome, because being around all those people fulfilled me.
Maybe next year I’d take Dillon, and maybe Aster if he wanted, back to Aotearoa to experience Christmas in the height of summer. Ma would love them, take them in like family, feed them up.
But that was next year.
This year we were having a Foggy Basin Christmas.
It was up to me to make it as nice as possible. Dillon would be flat out at the grocery right up until Christmas Eve and his parents had made it very clear they wouldn’t be back for Christmas Day, they were having too much fun travelling the country.
***
A few hours later, Ma replied
Mum: Flat out as always, e hoa. We’ll miss you but you won’t miss all the kids running around. Uncle Brian’s lot are awful, so noisy and don’t listen. Arohanui, we’ll be thinking of you
I had to laugh, she was probably right. It sounded like a headache in the making, but all the same I’d like to see the kids. It had been a few years they were probably all twice the size.
I texted back that I loved her and I’d be sending some gifts.
Sitting back, I looked around the living room.
It was nice, I loved how Dillon had decorated, but it wasn’t nearly festive enough.
I picked up my tablet and started some serious internet shopping.Let’s see, what will we need?
A pretty Christmas tree, fairy lights, ornaments for the tree.... Then he went back and removed the fake tree from the cart. A real tree would be better, you couldn’t beat the scent of real pine. He added a couple of cute things: a Christmas teddy bear for Aster, some festive headbands and hats, a Rudolph statue, matching Christmas pyjamas for Dillon, Aster and me, chocolates, cookies... and I was getting carried away. I placed the order before I added too much more.
Time to head out. I pulled on my coat, grabbed my wallet and phone and went in search of a tree.
I considered texting one of the older guys I tutored in singing to ask where to go, but Foggy Basin wasn’t exactly a sprawling metropolis. I only had to walk a block before I saw signs advertising “Christmas trees for sale”. I followed the arrow to a small parking lot where trees of all sizes were on display.
