Blue Christmas

"I'm not sure that's much better. We've always told each other the whole truth. The only exception, in all these years, has been Dickwad. Right?"

"I wish you wouldn't call him that. He's not as bad as you think, and he was her husband."

"And I'm the closest she ever had to a brother," I said in my I-mean-business voice. "When a woman's husband mistreats her, it's up to her father or her brother to stand up for her. I let you handle things before she got sick, because we didn't want Sue to go into shock or something. Fine, but she's gone now, and I'm not putting up with it.

"You and Joyce have three choices. One, he doesn't come, and the three of us have a nice Christmas together. Two, he goes to Joyce's, and we don't. Or three, you and Joyce watch me throw him out. Because it's Christmas, I'll even give him a choice: the door or the window."

For the first time since we'd known each other, I turned my back and walked out on Ellen.

She tried to bring it up again the next day.

"Look, Joe, I know you dislike David, and for good reasons, but I need you to..."

"Dislike?" I shouted. "Dislike? I dislike broccoli. I dislike foofy crap in my coffee. What I feel for Dickwad is disgust, loathing, and an almost uncontrollable need to rearrange his face."

Ellen sighed. "How long do I have to let you cool down before you'll listen to reason?"

"You mean do it your way? When Hell freezes over, that's when."

The subject didn't come up for a couple of days. It was horrible, the worst time we'd ever had, even going back to seventh grade. It was like we both knew something was terribly wrong, but neither of us had a clue how to fix it. Maybe it was because we'd never really had fights before, so we didn't know what to do about them. We wouldn't have had any fights now, if it weren't for Dickwad. That didn't make me like him any better.

I heard her come out of the shower. Usually she'd come to the living room and we'd sit and talk for a while. She didn't come, so I went looking for her. She was face down on our bed, sobbing her heart out. I lay down next to her and cuddled her up.

"Joe, what's happening to us? What's going on? We've never been like this before, and I'm scared."

I was smart enough, just barely, not to say we'd be fine if it weren't for Dickwad. Which was true, but not helpful, so I told her a different truth. "So am I."

We cried together for a while, and she looked at me and I knew she was going to try again. "Joe, I know how much you love me. I know you'd take a bullet for me, as I would for you. You've been so supportive of me these last few months, even though you're grieving, too. Can't you please consider doing this for me? Can't you try?"

I sighed. "I don't know, Ellen. Even if I did try, I don't think I can get what he did to Sue, and to those other people, out of my head. And I just know he'd say something or do something, and I'd lose it. Even if I didn't... Let's say he said something, something really horrible about Sue. Let's say I had enough self-control to just walk out. Would you come with me?"

Ellen looked troubled. "I don't know," she said.

"What if he's been dating," I heard Ellen gasp, "and he brings his new girl, and we're supposed to accept her as Sue's replacement? Ellen, that would break your heart, not to mention mine."

"He wouldn't do that," she whispered, as if she was trying to make herself believe it.

"Why not?"

A couple of days later, Ellen came home from a counseling session looking happier than I'd seen her in a while.

"I've been thinking about what you said," she began, after we'd cleared the supper dishes. "You made some really good points the other day. Our counselor has told us over and over how important it is to tell the truth in these sessions, and how everything is confidential. So I asked David if he'd been dating, in front of the counselor. He looked shocked, and said he hadn't."

I snorted in disgust. "And you believed him?"

"I knew you'd say that, so I also asked him if he'd cheated on her while they were married. He didn't want to answer, but the counselor said it was a legitimate question, and reminded him it was in confidence. He admitted that he had, several times. I tried to ask how he could do that, but the counselor stopped me. She said it was in the past, and it couldn't hurt Sue any more, so we should drop it. Anyway, that's how I know David was telling the truth about not dating."

I don't think I looked very impressed, but I didn't say anything, so she went on.

"The counselor asked why I wanted to know, so I told her about Christmas dinner, and about what you had said. She said she understands your issues, but this is something that Mom and I need for healing, so you should do it for us. She said that David should come to dinner, and if you wouldn't come, I should come by myself."

I'm sure my shock showed on my face. "And you told her no, that you and I were a team, and whatever we did, we'd do it together?"

"No, I said I'd talk with you about it."

"You mean you're actually considering choosing Dickwad over me, on Christmas Day?"

"Weren't you listening? This is about Mom and me, not David."

"Yeah, well, it is about him, 'cause if he weren't around, the problem would go away."

"Joe, you know I've never chosen anyone over you, even before we started dating, and I never will. Even if I go to Christmas dinner without you, I wouldn't be choosing anyone over you. Please, Joe, love me enough to do this with me, together, like we always are."

I had no idea what to say, so I just held her gently. As I did, I had an idea.

"Ellen, what about this? What if we went to Joyce's in the morning and the three of us did some things together. Maybe we could walk around town and look at the Christmas lights, like we used to do with Sue sometimes. Then we leave before David gets there. What do you think?"

"You know, Joe, that might work. Let me talk to Mom and see what she thinks, but that just might work!" She thanked me for a while, very nicely, if you please. When we came up for air, she gave me one of those looks.

"When did you start getting so smart?"

I knew the answer to that one. "When I started hanging around you."

Things were pretty good the next few days. Joyce wasn't exactly happy about it, but thought it was a good compromise. Unfortunately, that insect-brained counselor didn't. Dickwad was her patient, too, you see, and he had to be healed back into the family, and if anyone had to be left out, it was going to be me, not him. Ellen didn't put it that way, of course, but that was about the size of it. And, of course, Ellen had to do what Counselor Clueless said, because she was the professional.

I told Ellen I would think things over, but the more I thought, the less I liked. I actually began to wonder if Dickwad was going after Ellen. I couldn't see him wanting an affair with her; he liked them curvier and dumber. Then what? Then it hit me. Joyce's money. Ellen had control of Joyce's money. If he got Ellen on his side, he could bleed Joyce dry, then start on me. He'd enjoy that, I was sure, but how was I ever going to get Ellen to believe that?

Even worse was the feeling I had that Ellen and I were coming apart. For the first time in our lives, we weren't telling each other everything. For the first time, I felt like there was a part of Ellen's life and heart that she wasn't letting me into. I didn't know how to stop it or what to do about it. I had buddies, but not the kind you talk about stuff like that with. Besides, Ellen had always been my best buddy. So, I panicked. I said and did dumb things, like accusing her of being disloyal to me. Then I tried not talking about it, but the more I held it in, the worse it was when it came out. I'm sure I hurt my cause more than I helped it, but it seemed like every day, Ellen was more sympathetic to Dickwad and less to me.

We set up the Christmas tree and did all the usual stuff, but neither of our hearts were in it. Ellen had finally had enough of my weird behavior.

"Joe, I don't know what's gotten into you, but it's got to stop. I don't know why you're acting the way you are. I'm the same as I always have been. You've been a wonderful husband and my best friend, but now all of a sudden, you're talking wild and accusing me of things and acting weird, and I've had about all I can take. I'm grieving for my sister, trying to help my mom, and I can't handle worrying about you, too. This has to stop now."

I couldn't say a word. How dumb is that? I just sat there like a stump while all sorts of feelings, most of them bad, boiled through me.

"Is all of this crap just because I don't hate David as much as you do? Is that all this is? You can't handle that?"

How was I supposed to answer that? I couldn't figure it out, so I kept just sitting there.

"Come on, Joe, at least look at me." She grabbed my head roughly and turned it towards her. I could see anger in her eyes, then it faded out as she looked at me. Her hands on my face became gentle.

"Joe, is it really as bad as all that? Tell me, Joe. Please tell me."

I finally worked up my nerve. "I feel like I'm losing you."

She laughed. "Losing me? Really?" She sounded relieved. "Joe, you big doofus, you couldn't do that if you tried. You couldn't lose me if you died, I'd come after you. Who do you think you would lose me to, anyway? David? You're jealous of him, aren't you? Joe, you have absolutely no reason to be. I love you, Joe, and I don't even like him. I don't hate him like I used to, and I think I understand him a bit better. I don't look for ways to spend time with him, but I don't run the other way when he enters the room, either. Is that what all this stuff about disloyalty and broken trust has been about?"

"Look, Ellen, you know me. You know when it comes to this kind of stuff I always put my foot in it. That's why you didn't want me involved when you told Sue that Dickwad was cheating on her. Yeah, I admit I panicked and said some things I shouldn't. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, but why were you panicked? There was never anything to panic about." She sounded puzzled instead of angry, so I gave it a try.

"Ellen, that night I told you about Dick... David's cheating, and then you wouldn't tell me what you and Sue talked about, did you notice that's the first time ever you kept something from me? I mean big stuff, not like Christmas presents and so on. It went on after he got out. Sue's death just about killed you, but when you went to counseling, you invited him in and kept me out. I was grieving too, you know? I could have used some help, too.

"It just seems like there's this piece of you, of your heart, that you're letting him into and shutting me out of. That's never happened before, Ellen. Never. I'm afraid, and I don't know what to do because I can't talk to my best friend about it. I'm sorry I panicked and acted all weird, but I just couldn't help it."

Ellen was quiet for a moment. "It doesn't help that we don't see eye to eye on David, either, does it? We haven't disagreed this much about another person ever before. Not that I've completely changed my mind, I don't like him and I still think what he did was terrible, and he deserved to go to prison. Seeing him in counseling has helped me understand him to a certain extent, and not hate him like I used to, and I do believe he loved Sue, in his own way. Unfortunately, I can't share what went on in counseling with you, because the sessions are confidential. So I guess you're right: I am keeping things from you. Not the way you think, and not because I want to, but I have to."

Ellen was lost in thought. I decided not to bring up the fact that she was keeping me out of the "Dickwad" part of her life before Sue died, and before the counseling sessions began.

Suddenly, Ellen sat up. "I have an idea! I know how we can get on the same page about him." She interlocked her fingers on one of my shoulders. "Come to Christmas dinner. We'll both see him then, we'll both see what he's like. You'll see for yourself he's not as bad as you've been thinking."

I looked at Ellen's open, honest face. Her excitement was written all over it.

"Ellen, why does this matter so much? Why can't you just let him go?"

"Joe, he's my brother-in..."

"No, he isn't, not since Sue died. He's no relation to you at all. So why is this so important to you?"

It was her turn to look troubled and stare at the floor. I waited for what I thought was a really long time.

"That's why I'm afraid," I said. I patted her shoulder lightly and went up to bed.

Things were worse than ever. We were both wondering if we were going to make it past this Christmas. A couple of days before Christmas, Ellen asked a question.

"Joe, would you accept the advice of a neutral third party? Like binding arbitration?"

"If you're suggesting Counselor Clueless, no."

"Actually, she's helped me a lot, but no, I didn't mean her. I meant someone who'd never met either of us."

"Who?"

"Well, I wrote up what we've been fighting about, and sent it in to the Ask Auntie Petunia column."

"You didn't!"

"Joe, this has been just tearing me up inside, and it's been awful for you, too. I had to do something."

"Okay, and?"

"Her answer is in today's paper. I won't ask you to accept it sight unseen, but please read it and consider what she says."

It was a measure of how awful things were that the thought even crossed my mind, though I stopped myself from saying it. Would she be showing me this if Auntie Petunia, whoever that was, had agreed with me? Anyway, I first read Ellen's question. She'd been fair; she'd admitted that David had been in prison and had cheated on Sue, though she sort of soft-pedaled that. Still, there was nothing I could say she'd left out.

Then I read "Auntie Petunia's" answer. She admitted that dinner with Dickwad was a bad idea, and said married couples should always put each other first, ahead of anybody else. So far so good, but then she said it was time for me to put Ellen first, by going to Christmas dinner with Dickwad. She even gave Ellen this little speech to say, about how she hopes I can do this for her, but if I can't, or if I couldn't "behave," I should make other plans for Christmas, and she'd be home by six and bring me back some pie.

Well, how nice! Like pie is going to make any difference? Like it matters when she'll be home? I put down the paper and looked at Ellen. She looked worried; she could tell by my face that this wasn't going well.

I said, as calmly as I could, "Ellen, is this little speech what you want to say to me, behave and pie and all?"

"Y-yes, I think it's good advice. I might put it a little differently, but I think she has the right idea."

"So you would be okay with reading this to me, like it came from you?"

"I guess, if that's what you want."

"It's not what I want. None of this is what I want. I want Dickwad out of our lives and I want my wife back. But since it seems like I can't have that, here's what I have to say. If you choose to spend Christmas with Dickwad instead of me, I will most definitely make other plans for the day. You can come home whenever you want. It won't matter, 'cause I won't be here. And you can take your leftover pie and put it where the sun don't shine!"

I knew I'd made Ellen cry, and that was another first. I was too much of a mess to do anything about it, so I grabbed my coat off the peg by the door and took off walking. Make other plans for the day, indeed. It would serve her right if those other plans included plenty of booze and another female. Did you know that Christmas is one of the busiest days of the year for escort services? True. At least, a buddy of mine told me that, when he was going through a messy divorce around Christmas time and wanted to hire one. Escort, I mean. Or maybe they just told him that so they could charge him more, I don't know. Whatever, I could see his point.

Somehow it was the offer of the leftover pie that was the worst. It was (I searched for the right word) condescending. That was it. Treating me like I was just a little kid throwing a tantrum, and if I loved Ellen I would get over it and do what she wanted.

I got to the park and sat down. The exercise had cleared my head, a little. Maybe I was overreacting. Yes, the Auntie Petunia thing was condescending, but Ellen had said she'd have put things differently, and I knew that was true. Maybe that was why I was so upset about it: Ellen had never talked down to me in her life. So should I go socialize with Dickwad? No. He wasn't family now; I didn't have any reason to have anything to do with him.

Except, of course, Ellen. Why was this so important to her? She wasn't telling me, and I sure wasn't smart enough to figure it out. Maybe she didn't know herself, but that was one thing we needed to figure out pretty quick, or we were in serious trouble, if we weren't already.

I trudged home. The newspaper was on the living room floor, crumpled and open to that cursed column. It was smudged in places as if it had been cried over. I smoothed it out and put it on the table with a note apologizing for making her cry and running out on her. I could at least do that much. Ellen was in bed; it looked like she'd cried herself to sleep. My heart went out to her, and I cursed Dickwad for bringing us to this.

The next night was Christmas Eve. We talked, but nothing changed. I tried to explain again to Ellen what I felt, that the part of her heart where she was grieving for Sue was closed to me but open to David. I'm not good with talking about that kind of stuff; I don't think she got it. Maybe I should find a counselor or something who could explain it to her for me. I offered to go with her to Joyce's in the morning and do things together before David got there, but she turned me down flat. I tried to find out why it was so important, and got nowhere. It might have been just my clumsiness, but I really thought she didn't know, herself.

We usually opened our presents to each other Christmas morning before heading to Joyce's, but neither of us felt like it. Ellen said she guessed she'd go on to her mom's. I offered to go with her.

"Will you stay for dinner with David?"

"No."

"I hate to think of your being here all by yourself on Christmas." I was about to say something stupid when I looked at her face. She really meant it; she was just as torn up about this as I was.

"You don't have to do this, you know?" I tried one last time.

"You could do this for me, you know?" Swing and miss, I guess.

"I love you," she whispered, put her hand lightly on my shoulder, and turned away hoping I wouldn't see her tears. She was gone.

So that's how I came to be sitting alone in my truck in the park on Christmas morning. Yeah, I'd thought about different "other plans," but I just couldn't do that to Ellen. Call me a wimp, but I couldn't. Yeah, she wouldn't have to find out, what she doesn't know won't hurt her, and all that. I'd heard all that from other people, and it's all horsefeathers. I knew full well that doing something like that would change me, and even if I took the secret to my grave, we'd never be the same again because I wouldn't be the same.

My feet were getting cold. Thinking wasn't doing me any good, so I got out and started walking through the snow. Ellen told me once that more people commit suicide at Christmastime than any other, and I hadn't understood why, but I did now. All the happy decorations only made me feel worse. Houses were lit up both outside and in, and I could see families inside enjoying their Christmas. I just hoped they didn't have a dickwad in their midst.

I had no idea what time it was; I'd left my phone in the truck. It had been heavily overcast and snowing all day, with hardly any daylight. I made my way back toward the park. My truck was covered with snow. I brushed it off, got inside, and turned it on to run the heater. My phone told me it was about 3 PM, and I had two text messages from Ellen. "Mom & I walking & looking @ lights. Thx 4 gr8 idea. Wish u were here." Then about an hour ago, "Dinner in 1 hr. Sure u can't come? Pls?"