Christmas In July

David scratched his temple, lips pursed, before taking another sip of cold coffee. From the nearby window, he heard the first harbingers of Spring chirp away and knew if he opened said window, he’d catch a waft of petrichor mixed with the Russian Sage he planted three years back. It was undoubtedly the start of Spring and yet here he was, staring into the eyes of the little ghost dog Halloween decoration sitting on the mantle. The thing was undoubtedly adorable, as Halloween decorations went, with its pointy ears and little trick-or-treat bucket, but he thought it was packed up with the rest of the decorations, because, as he firmly established, it was Spring. He hadn’t lost it yet. He remembered her ordering it; a memento mori of their first pup. In the moment, it seemed a little fucked up, but that decoration made sure he never forgot little Artemis. 

“Hun, did you forget to put this one away or were you keeping it out for some reason?” David yelled back toward the stairs. A jumbled response came and he took another sip of his coffee, still cold despite hoping beyond hope some miracle warmed it up for him. No divine intervention occurred and David went on with his day, forgetting all about the little ghost dog decoration on the mantle. Olivia would take care of it. She was always very particular about how the closets were packed. The rest of the day came and went. Another day turned into months.

***

There was nothing David despised more than Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving. Christmas season began once the Thanksgiving table was cleared and not a moment sooner. He ran through his list, checking it against the stuff in the cart: cheese? Check. Pepperoni and salami? Check. Olives (how his dad ate olives he’d never know)? Check. Something was missing though. He checked the list once, then twice, but he had everything. Service in the grocery store sucked but he pulled up his phone and fired off a quick text to ask her if there was anything else. 

Two aisles over, he remembered his mom asked for ice cream for his niece. He grabbed a pint of cookies and cream and checked to see if she responded for good measure, but all he saw was a couple of blue bubbles.  

***

“Sonovabitch!” David yelled. He jumped backwards at the echoing crash of cans, scrambling at the wall for the light switch. With the empty room finally illuminated, David saw he’d toppled the garbage can. Crushed silver beer cans littered the floor, one of which was still rolling until it settled at the far side of the garage. 

He picked up the closest cans and tossed them back into the garbage. “Stupid ass shit.” 

He grabbed one, taking a moment to look at the faded mountains on it before tossing it. When did these all get drunk? David couldn’t remember the last time he bought Coors. He opened his mouth to call out, but kept collecting the strays. Finally, he came to the one that rolled away. It had settled next to a plastic box of tailgate supplies. Right next to it sat a cornhole set covered in dust. 

The tears came before the memories did. Then the memories flooded in, and David wished beyond wished that they didn’t. 

A Labor Day weekend tailgate. 

Flashes of friends and family abound: David laughing with his dad. His best friend Michael tossing his wife Mary a seltzer. They called them M&M one night years ago and the nickname stuck ever since. 

And there, in the center of the yard, stood Olivia. She was the center of attention without even trying. Black hair hung in a tight ponytail with a smile that stretched from her lips to her temples while she talked to David’s mom. She held a diet coke, more than happy to let David enjoy the holiday with their family and friends. 

He had loved her with everything he had. He had loved them all. 

Had. 

More memories came. A screech of rubber. Concrete. Flashing lights. Fragments of a conversation: other driver speeding in and out of traffic. At least 90. Other three critical. David was lucky. 

His wife and two best friends…gone because 75 on the highway wasn’t enough for some kid. Was he lucky? If he stood there again in front of that police officer, David imagined he’d punch him right in the face. 

Three years had passed since then. Where had the time gone? David felt for certain if he called out now, she’d answer. It was all a nightmare, it must have been. 

But no matter what he told himself, no matter how many times he sat out here and tried to dull that reality, here he was, sitting in a garage with nothing but his ghosts. 

***

Titanic played in the background, the band playing on while the ship broke in half. David finished another Guinness. He watched the brown foam slide down the glass, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had one when it wasn’t St. Patrick’s Day. The lady at the store gave him quite the look: a four-pack of Guinness and a frozen pizza was quite the departure from the line of guys coming through with champagne and roses. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything else, and halfway through checkout he wished he’d have just Uber’d something. 

Jack froze in that frigid water. David didn’t blame him. Watching Titanic on Valentine’s Day felt right in all the wrong ways: kind of like Die Hard on Christmas. They’d never liked Valentine’s Day, but it never stopped David from buying flowers. 

Rose drifted away until the Carpathia arrived. He always thought there was a sequel in there somewhere, or a book spinoff, or something. Rose’s rescue to return must have been a hell of a story. 

He flipped through until he found a hockey game. 

***

The bottle of wine and stuffed teddy bear he held felt odd, the wrapping paper scratchy against his T-shirt. He thought about leaving the gifts in the car. After all, who wraps gifts like it’s Christmas when it’s July? It was a stupid thought and he chased it away before giving the door a quick knock. 

“Hey Sis, I…uhh, brought gifts,” David said when the door opened. 

“You didn’t have to do that. Come on in!” Megan said. Warm piano notes greeted him beyond the threshold–scales and notes turned into something beautiful by their simplicity. “Cassie’s wrapping up her lesson. Off today? I was glad when you texted, it’s been too long. The door’s always open.” 

“I actually took it off. Figured it was a good time to take a break.” 

His sister’s lips slightly pursed and her eyes blinked twice quickly in surprise. “When was the last time you took a day off?”

“Too long. Way too long.” 

“Well we’re glad to have you. Wine?” 

“No, no, thank you, but I did bring this for you.” David proffered the bottle.

No sooner had he done so than little Cassie ran around the corner. “Uncle David! Uncle David!” She wrapped herself around his legs. She was so much bigger than the last time he saw her, and suddenly a stuffed teddy bear seemed the wrong gift completely. It didn’t stop her from giving it an equally big squeeze once the paper finally got torn off. 

***

The wind tore his breath from his lungs. David bent down and tightened his laces anyway. It was warm enough that he didn’t have to worry about ice, though his shoes might be soaked by the end of it. Most people picked up a new hobby like running in the summer, he supposed, when the wind didn’t hurt your face, or right at the new year. He set off all the same. February 25th seemed as good of a time as any to start something new. 

***

David scratched his temple, lips pursed, before taking another sip of a freshly poured warm coffee. It rained the night before and in the soft light of morning, few thoughts filled his mind besides curling up under a blanket with a book. He wanted to take advantage of these cozy moments before the heat of summer took over. 

And yet here it was, staring him in the face. He remembered little Artemis’s wagging tail whenever she jumped up on his chest in the morning, breath smelling like salmon. She was a good dog. Once, he swore he’d never adopt another, but like Spring always thawing the ice dams in the Costco parking lot, such oaths were meant to be revised, amended, until they faded away into memory. 

“Honey, I swore I put this away.” 

She came up and wrapped her arms around him. “You did. I took it back out. He’s cute and sometimes you need a little something spooky.” 

“You know it’s like seven months to Halloween, right?”

“Just because it’s only St. Patrick’s Day in March never stopped your mother from having like fifteen Celtic crosses hung around the place.” 

“Those two things are not, in any way, shape, or form, compatible.”

“They’re both religious holidays, aren’t they? I refuse to bow to arbitrary rules.” She gave him a squeeze. 

“Well…You know…I have been lawyered. Carry on,” He spun around and gave Allison a kiss on the forehead. “But whatever you do, try not to compare those two things to her.” 

“I promise. I won’t. On purpose at least.” She smiled. It felt good to have someone look at him and smile. 

“Did you really go in and dig this out?” 

“Of course I did! Not everything needs to get locked away until it’s told to be free.”  

“You’re right, it should stay. What do you think about rescuing a puppy?” 

A/N:

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