It was almost nine o’clock, and Tommy was feeling as full as a tick on a fat hound dog. Momma was constantly pushing food at him: thick sandwiches filled with slices of her glazed ham and a layer of mustard; turkey casserole with slick, tender dumplings; and the brownies Mary had brought, rich and decadent, with pecans and juicy raisins in them. Tommy felt sure he’d put on atleast five pounds in one day, he’d eaten that much. But damn, it sure was good.No onecooked like his momma.
He stood in front of the Christmas tree, letting the scent of pine fill his senses while he gazed at the ornaments and garlands that adorned it.
“You sure I can’t tempt you to some of my peanut butter cookies?” Momma was at his side, her hand at his back.
Tommy chuckled. “Are you tryin’ to say I need to put on some weight, Momma? ’Cause it sure feels that way.” He rubbed his belly. “I couldn’t eat another mouthful, honest.”
She leaned against him, just coming up to his shoulder. Tommy got his height from Daddy but was under no illusions. In spite of her diminutive size, Momma ruled the roost.
“What you lookin’ at, baby?” The softly spoken words felt warm and cozy.
“There’s a whole lotta history on this tree, isn’t there?” He gazed up at the angel perched on top, its wings looking sad and a little tired, its painted features faded. “How old is that angel?”
Momma turned her face up toward the tip of the tree and smiled, the skin creasing around her eyes. “That angel came from your granddaddy’s family, so I guess it’s gettin’ on nearly fifty years old now. They gave it to him when I was born.” She pointed to a little wooden rocking horse. “An’ your grandma got that for your first Christmas.”
Tommy pointed to a little glass teddy bear, its arm missing. He knew the story behind it, but he loved asking about it, if only to get his Daddy’s reaction. “Why’d you still put that bear on the tree? Ain’t it time to retire him? He must’ve earned his disability pension by now.” He grinned in anticipation.
“That bear will always have a place onanytree inmyhouse,” Momma declared, eyes flashing, “as a permanent reminder not to let your Daddy have anything to do with wiring Christmas tree lights.”
“For goodness’ sake, Charlene, you still goin’ on ’bout that?” Daddy lowered his paper and shook his head. “Anyone would think I’d burned the house down. It was just a little fire.” He glared at her. “An’ it was fifteen years ago.” He disappeared behind the paper, but Tommy could hear him muttering something about, “Make one little mistake an’ they never let you forget it, but mention some of her cookin’ disasters an’ suddenly it’s World War Three around here.”
Tommy tried to hide his smirk, but Momma caught him and whacked him on the arm.
“Ouch!” He rubbed it briskly. “Aww, c’mon, Momma, you know Daddy loves your cookin’.”
“Nowhe does,” came the muttered comment from behind the local paper. “’Specially if he knows what’s good for him.”
Momma glared at his daddy, who wisely kept hidden.
“Remarks like that willnothave me rushin’ to make your favorite turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sauce sandwiches when you next ask me with those puppy dog eyes.” She huffed. “Like those work on me anyway after all these years.”
Tommy wasn’t fooled for an instant. He could hear the love in her voice.
He left the tree and went over to the fireplace to kneel on the worn rug in front of it. Somethingelsethat was battle scarred—there was a hole in the rug from when Tommy had tried to poke the fire rather too vigorously one year and a burning chunk of wood had landed on it. He knew there was no way Momma would’ve thrown it out. Grandma had made it when Momma and Daddy had gotten married.
Momma went into the kitchen, and Tommy half-listened to the noises that drifted in from there. He was relaxed and happy. It had been a really good visit. His parents had been so happy to have him home. He’d arrived four days before Christmas, and so far it had been great. Even Mary seemed to have mellowed alittle since he’d seen her last, but maybe that was due more to her impending motherhood. She’d been talking about having a family since she and Dan had gotten together when they were high school sweethearts.
It was the love that had permeated every second of his time at home that had finally helped Tommy come to a decision. The moment had arrived. Once he’d made up his mind, it was simply a question of when.
No time like the present.
Momma brought in three mugs of hot chocolate on a tray, and after placing them on the coffee table, she settled back on the couch, feet propped up on a little padded footstool. Tommy reached for his mug and wrapped his hands around it, inhaling the aroma. He closed his eyes, ignoring the fluttery feeling in his belly and the dryness in his mouth. Tommy drew in a couple of deep breaths and then opened his eyes.
“Momma, Daddy? Can I talk with you for a minute?”
Daddy lowered his paper instantly and regarded him, brow furrowed. “Sure. Anything wrong?”
Momma put down her mug and sat up, back straight.
“No, sir, it’s just that there’s somethin’ I need to share with you both.” Tommy’s heart was pounding so hard, he was surprised they couldn’t hear it.
Momma’s green eyes, so like his own, were fixed on him. “Is everythin’ all right at school? I thought you were doin’ real well.”
“Oh, I am,” he hastened to tell her. “It’s not that.” The gentle fluttering in his belly had developed into a rolling ocean. He set his mug on the table and sat crossed-legged on the rug, facing them. “Before I start, I just want you to know that the only reason I feel able to share this with you is that I know you both love me and support me.” He smiled at them.
Momma’s expression softened. “Of course we do, son.” The love in her voice filled him with warmth. “But you’re worryin’ me now.”
Tommy nodded. No use putting it off any longer. He took a final deep breath. “Momma, Daddy, ever since I was a little boy, you’ve taught me how important it is to tell the truth.”
