This is the fourth chapter of a holiday series that started Monday, November 27th.
The next morning, the smell of the breakfast being cooked filled every floor of the house, coaxing the occupants of each room out of the warmth of the old quilts they were under. All but Stan. Everyone else made their way to the kitchen.
There was food on every surface, seemingly every pot and pan in use, each filled with something that smelled like heaven. On the stove was a skillet full of scrambled eggs and bacon next to a larger square pan heaping with French toast, in the oven was some type of sausage and potato dish bubbling around the edges and golden on top. Cinnamon rolls were cooling on the counter next to the chrome plated percolator, steam rising from its spout like the smoke from a tiny chimney. Nat King Cole was crooning out Christmas tunes on the Magnavox Hi-Fi in the living room.
People were drawn into the kitchen like moths to a flame. Doug went straight for the percolator and poured himself a cup of hot fresh Folgers. Somehow it tasted better than the coffee they had at home, though he was sure it was the same brand. Must be the old percolator, he thought. It was the same one that had been in the same spot on the kitchen counter when he was a kid.
Dana was amazed at the sheer volume of food that had been prepared. She was sure that if someone had given her four days, all the recipes, and someone to help measure all the ingredients she couldn’t have produced such a spread. Kyle was the first to grab a plate. “Help yourself,” his grandmother instructed. The pile of food he proceeded to load on his plate shocked even hid father.
“Good Lord! Leave some for the rest of us!” Doug instructed.
“There’s plenty,” his grandmother assured everyone. “Take all you want. There’s more of everything.” Everyone loaded up a plate and found a spot to sit down. “Call your brother down, Doug.” Doug made his way to the door at the bottom of the stairs and yelled for his brother to come down for breakfast. Stan showed up in a tattered bathrobe and old slippers a few moments later and silently made a plate.
No sooner had Stan sat down than Kyle was back for seconds. Glancing out the kitchen window and towards the driveway he noted the fresh snow on the family Ford and Stan’s Oldsmobile and a new Mustang pulling up behind both. “Someone’s here,” he said. In the feeding frenzy taking place, no one heard him say anything and a short moment later, the front door flew open and Doug’s younger brother and his girlfriend were in the middle of the gathering like the stars of a Hollywood movie that had been waiting off stage for their entrance.
Bobby filled up every room he ever entered. His presence was felt first, then appreciated. His booming voice got everyone’s attention, then the hugs and slaps on the back, along with sharing of whatever humorous thought dropped from his lips. And finally, especially where females were concerned, sheer awe at the absolute beauty of the man Bobby was. Athletic, tall, with a Sampson-like head of hair that could have made him a shampoo model, even Dana gasped just slightly at the sight of him. Kristen’s knees wobbled. It was a good thing she was sitting down. Later, when they were alone Kristen would ask her mother if Doug had ever looked like that when he was younger. Dana tried to act like she didn’t know what her daughter was talking about, but finely said, “Nobody else has ever looked like that. That man is a god.” As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Kristen appreciated the honesty, and the reassurance she wasn’t the only one affected by Bobby’s charms.
Stan was oblivious to the entrance, even when Bobby came up behind him, threw both arms around his oldest brother and hugged him uncomfortably. Doug was next in a heartfelt expression of love between brothers who’d not seen one another for years. “God, you look great! How was the drive up? Any bad weather?” Before any of the questions could be answered, Bobby was on to Dana and each of the kids with hugs and kisses and more questions. It was like someone who’d been marooned on a deserted island had suddenly been rescued and had to make up for a decade of lost time. Not lost on Doug or Kyle was the young lady who’d followed Bobby into the kitchen.
In appearance, she was Bobby’s equal: in demeanor she was his opposite. Quiet, but stunning. She had high cheekbones set below ice blue eyes, all framed by a mane of blond hair that fell to her shoulders like curtains on either side of the most beautiful view. Doug didn’t remember ever seeing a girl of such beauty in Michigan when he lived there. Or Texas. Or anywhere. The fact that she remained quiet and in the background while Bobby commanded the scene made her even more alluring. Kyle’s jaw dropped slightly. Dana and Kristen bristled slightly. Stan continued to stare down into his breakfast casserole occasionally looking at Bobby and his girlfriend’s feet awkwardly.
“Introduce your friend to everybody, Bobby,” his mother cajoled him.
“Appologies! Of course,” Bobby said. “Everyone, this is Betz.”
The girl stepped forward and gave a shy wave to everyone. “Elizabeth, actually. Bobby started calling me ‘Betz’ and now everyone does. Nice to meet you all. Bobby has been looking forward to seeing everybody.” Food fell out of Kyle’s mouth before he could remember to close it.
Jealousy caused Dana and Kristen to immediately look for flaws in the young woman, but both came up short.
Bobby finished loading up a plate of food and stood next to the table, using the kitchen counter as a table so Betz could pull a chair up to the table and be more comfortable. In the conversation that followed, Doug and Dana learned that the two had been dating nearly a year. Betz was from California. (That explains it, Doug thought.) They surmised that the two were living in sin together in an apartment nearby, but the details were very sketchy on that for the benefit of Doug’s mom and his children who did not need to know such sordid things.
Bobby was working for the Ford dealer in Ferndale. “The same one Dad bought the Sunliner from,” he said. “Funny, huh. I work in the shop now. Learning everything I can about engines and how to get the most out of them. Want to eventually work for Ford.” Stan let out a grunt of some kind. Nobody was sure if it was something he’d eaten that caused it or a general reaction to the Blue Oval being mentioned. “That’s the only way I could afford the Mustang. Just got it in October. Love that car!”
Bobby looked down at his nephew, Kyle, who was looking across the table at Betz. “If the snow melts off the roads, I’ll take you for a spin in it. Pin your ass to the seat and show you what she can do.” Kyle smiled at the thought, though he was still thinking about Betz.
“Bobby, language!” grandma said.
“Sorry. Habit.”
In the excitement of the moment and the welcoming of the newest member of the family to be greeted, nobody had noticed that Crockett had helped himself to whatever was left of the breakfast casserole on top of the oven. Luckily it had cooled enough to not ruin the experience for him. He found it to be a much better treat than the un-refrigerated leftover Thanksgiving turkey he’d treated himself to back in Texas.
As people began finishing their breakfast Grandma would take their dishes and stack them in the sink and on the counter in a system that was time proven but only understood by her. As each person left the table they were assigned a number, their turn for the bathroom. Stan trudged back upstairs to his room and disappeared. Dana and Kristen, at Dana’s insistence, stayed and attempted to help clean up. Grandma wouldn’t hear of it. Eventually Kristen made her way back to the basement to join the other two kids going through old things they’d never seen before and wanted to figure out. Doug, Dana, Bobby and Betz eventually poured cups of coffee from the fresh pot Grandma had made and sat at the small table, just the four of them. They felt guilty not helping their mother with the pile of morning dishes. But they could also could tell she was as happy as they could remember, humming along to the Christmas tunes on the Hi-Fi, scrubbing dishes in the hot soapy water, and gazing out the kitchen window on to the snow gathering on the roof of the neighbor’s house.
Dana had to admit to herself that Betz was more than just a pretty face. She was studying at Henry Ford Community College. She and Bobby had been together nearly a year and seemed to be good for each other. Doug got them caught up on the classes he’d been teaching at Jim Bowie High back in Fort Stockton and answered the questions each asked. They both seemed genuinely interested.
Dana filled them in on each of the three kids down in the basement. “I hate that I haven’t been able to see them grow up. Kyle seems like a great kid. And Kristen looks like an actual woman now. She was Kim’s age the last time I saw her, just a little girl,” Bobby noted.
“She’s only two years younger than you!” Doug reminded him.
The morning seemed to disappear more quickly than the mound of dishes on the counter. It was decided that Bobby and Betz would take Kyle out in his new Mustang after Kyle’s turn in the shower. Doug would take Dana and the girls on a tour of his old stomping grounds around Ferndale in the Country Squire. Both her sons asked their mother if she would like to join them on the journeys they’d planned.’
“Oh heavens, no,” she laughed. “Thank you for asking, but I need to start getting ready for dinner.” Neither was surprised. Dana and Betz didn’t know how she did it. An hour later, after the last number had been called and there wasn’t a drop of hot water left in the old tank in the basement, a stream of family members filtered out the side door to the driveway, loaded into the two Fords in the driveway.
Kyle watched carefully as Betz bent over and made her way to the back seat so Kyle could get the full experience riding copilot. Once she was in, Kyle hopped in and waited for Bobby to turn the key and make the 402 rumble to life. The exhaust sounds coming from the back end were sweet music to his ears. Bobby turned the Philco AM radio way down, threw the shifter in reverse and backed out the driveway. Once pointed in the right direction, he shoved the shifter in first gear and laid rubber for a half block.
Next to him, Kyle was impressed. His mother was concerned, back in the driveway, witnessing her son racing down the street with a mad man. A good looking mad man, but a mad man. “Should I be worried?” she asked Doug as they got into the Country Squire, backed out and headed the opposite direction.
“No, of course not,” Doug replied. Dana could always tell when he was lying.
In the Mustang Bobby gave Kyle a rundown of what made the Candyapple Red coupe special. “The hood scoop, driving lamps, color keyed racing mirrors and quarter panel scoops make it look different than any other Mustang. What’s under the hood is what makes it what it is.” On Nine Mile Road, Bobby punched it up to a hundred before anyone knew what hit them. He brought it back down to forty, lest he wind up in jail with his young nephew.
Looking in the backseat at Betz, Kyle had never been exposed to so many different forms of excitement in his life. Uncle Bobby had become a hero, instantly providing the fifteen year old with life goals likely to never be met. Bobby headed the Mustang over to Woodward Boulevard to show Bobby a little more of what Ferndale looked like, especially covered in a fresh blanket of snow.
“How long is your family staying?” he asked.
“I think we leave the day after Christmas. Not sure. It took longer to get here than we planned.” Kyle didn’t want to burden Bobby and Betz with the details of the delay. He was trying as hard as he could to maintain some level of coolness, not to embarrass himself.
“What do you think of Michigan?” Betz asked from the backseat.
“It’s COLD!” Kyle let out.
“I’d tell you that you get used to it after a while, but I’d be lying.” Betz laughed.
“Wimps, the both of you,” Bobby said. “The cold weather puts hair on your chest! Luckily Beth grew up in California!” It took Kyle a minute to get the joke, but as soon as he thought of Betz’s chest he turned a shade of red brighter than the Mustang. It was a thought he’d return to later.
“Why is Uncle Stan so shy?” Kyle asked out of nowhere. As soon as he said it he felt like he shouldn’t have.
“It’s complicated,” Bobby said. “He’s got a good heart, but has trouble showing it. He’s had some traumas in his life that make him not want to be around people as much as he used to. He means well.”
“Underneath the awkwardness, he’s sweet,” Betz said from the backseat.
“Guess I just haven’t seen that side yet,” Kyle replied.
“You might not, this trip.” Bobby told him. “It takes a while.”
“Grandma sure can cook!” Kyle said, changing the subject to one that was easier to understand.
“That she can, my man. That she can,” Bobby replied. “Probably the thing I miss most about not living at home anymore.” Bobby glanced in the rearview mirror and locked eyes with Betz in the backseat behind him. “But other there things make up for it.” Kyle could only imagine.
“Was it tough for you three brothers and Aunt Ann growing up together?” Kyle asked.
Bobby had to think about it for a minute. “It wasn’t really that long that all four of us were there at the same time. Stan left home when I was young. Your dad not too long after that. Eventually Ann married and moved away. It seemed like I was an only child for a long time. Till Stan moved back home, anyway.”
“Were you spoiled? Kyle asked.
“Suppose I was.” Bobby looked in the backseat again. “Still am.”
“When will Aunt Ann and her family be here?” Kyle wondered.
“Not sure,” Bobby answered. “Probably tomorrow, but I wasn’t privy to all the details. You remember your cousins, Aunt Ann’s two boys?”
“Naw. I was just a small kid the only other time I saw them.” Kyle tried to remember details, but couldn’t.
“They’re a lot like Uncle Stan,” Bobby said. “Cut from a different cloth.”
“It’ll be a houseful, that’s for sure,” Kyle said.
“You have no idea!” Bobby laughed, glad he was not going to be part of that guest list. “But Christmas only comes once a year. You gotta make the most of it. It’ll be good. I’ll leave you my number so you can give me a call and I’ll come rescue you from the madness if I need to.”
Kyle hoped he wasn’t kidding.
If you’re enjoying the series, or the blog in general, consider buying the Captain a cuppa Folgers to help offset the costs of keeping it running. Happy holidays.