Mary and Alvin's Covid Christmas

Bonita looked like she was carefully considering the question, then said, "Okay."

"Good." Mary stood up. "Now, get your coats. We are going to go get whatever you will need from your house."

"I already brought my jammies and my toothbrush," Bonita told her.

In a light snow flurry, the four of them walked down to the house by the pond. Jennifer filled a laundry basket with clean clothes for herself and Bonita, and gathered a few toiletries. All the Christmas presents were already in gift bags, which Mary collected.

"Anything else you think you'll need?" Mary asked Bonita.

"No," she said, "You got plenty of good stuff at your house."

As they walked back to the big house, Jennifer asked Mary, "What do we do now? It seems like we ought to be doing something."

"We will. I'm going to call your Dad and let him know what's going on, and then, we are going to make cookies. We are going to try to make this the best Christmas we can."

***

Alvin stood far back in the long line for the express lane at the Shop-N-Save, counting each shopper's items as they checked out. They ought to shut off the scanner when they get to twelve, he thought.

He was trying to get in a holiday mood, but he could not find it within him. He would fake it, and Mary would see through his efforts, but the little girls wouldn't, and that was what was really important.

He had spent the morning at the wharf, and did not sell a single Christmas tree. The trees were not a big source of income, the fact was that he just kept up the tradition his father had started of selling them every holiday season in order to have something to do in the off season.

He liked to keep busy, and in the summer, when the town was flooded with tourists and part time residents, he was usually as busy as a one armed boxer. This year, with the friggin' pandemic, had been different.

Mary had the head for finances, he did not, and she assured him that, even with the slow summer, they were doing alright. The little carry out diner at the wharf had done more business than ever, filling in the gap left by the closing of so many restaurants in town, and the locals who used the wharf had, for the most part, paid their docking fees. He had let a few of them slide, knowing they'd be good for it eventually.

It wasn't really the money that bothered him, it was the feeling that he was not carrying his weight. Granted, he had those two boats wintering over in the yard for repairs and renovations, but if he put his mind to it, he could get both done by Valentines Day. He didn't know what he'd do after that.

He finally reached the cashier, and paid for his four items. A light snow was falling as he left the store. He climbed into his truck and pulled off his mask. Just as he was turning the ignition, his phone rang.

It was Mary. Jeezum crow, he thought, she probably thought of something else she needs, and he would have to go back into the store.

He answered the phone and felt his heart sink when she told him that Danni had been exposed to the virus.

"Aw, what a pisser," he groaned, "Well, what are we going to do?"

"What can we do?" Mary replied. "Jen and Nita will stay with us until we know she's negative. It's just a matter of waiting."

"She won't be able to share Christmas with us."

"No, she really can't."

"I suppose not. Alright then, I'm leaving the store now, be home in a little bit."

"See you then, baby. Love you."

"I love you too, Mary."

Alvin put down the phone and sat staring out the windshield. He felt foolish that he had asked Mary what they would do, but that was his nature. He made things right for those he loved. In that moment, he understood the malaise that had nagged at him ever since the corona virus had spread into Maine all those long months ago. This was something he couldn't fix, a problem he couldn't solve.

He considered Danni every bit his daughter as much as Charlotte and Jennifer and Hannah. He thought back to the Christmas when he had met her, when he had driven to the University of Maine campus and brought her home so that she and Jennifer could be together. He could not imagine how horrific it would be to lose her, especially at Christmas.

He drove out of the parking lot, but had gone no more than a hundred yards before he pulled over to the side of the road. He sat and thought for a few minutes, then called Mary.

"Listen, sweetheart," he told her, "I need to go back to the wharf, got something I have to do."

"Honey, I think you ought to get home. We need to all be together."

"I know, but I won't be long. Maybe a couple of hours."

Mary sighed. "Okay, I know better than to argue with you when you've set your mind to something."

"I'll get home as soon as I can."

"Alvin..."

"What, honey?"

"You can't cure covid."

"Doesn't mean I can't do something," he said as he put the truck in gear and headed back toward the wharf.

***

Mary was washing the mixing bowl at the kitchen sink when she looked out the window and saw Danni's cruiser pull into the dooryard. Jennifer was at the table, supervising Hannah and Bonita as they decorated the last batch of sugar cookies.

"You girls stay here," she said. She gestured toward the front door with her head.

Jennifer understood and rose from the table. "Don't eat more than you decorate," she told the girls.

Danni was stepping out of the cruiser when Mary and Jennifer came out on the porch.

"Baby, are you alright?" Jennifer called.

"I feel fine," Danni shrugged.

"Did you get tested?"

"Yeah, and it sucked," she replied, rubbing the side of her nose.

"When will you get results?" Mary asked.

"It will be a couple of days, what with Christmas and all."

Jennifer started to cry, and Mary wrapped her arm around her waist. Danni looked past them, and waved. Mary turned to see Hannah and Bonita with their faces pressed against the living room window. When they waved furiously back at her, Danni smiled and blew them a kiss. That has to be the hardest smile of her life, Mary thought. She leaned her head toward Jennifer's and whispered, "Be strong for her, Jen."

Jennifer straightened up and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Okay, baby, what now?" she asked.

Danni leaned back against the hood of the cruiser, crossed her arms and shrugged. "We wait," she said.

"Well, we can set up Skype after Alvin gets home," Mary said, "So you can be part of the...well, maybe festivities isn't the right word."

"That would be great," Danni said without enthusiasm. "For now, I just want to go in and lay down for a bit. They said I ought to take it easy, preserve my strength. You know, just in case."

"Alright. Let us know if you need anything," Mary said, "We will bring you down some food later."

Danni nodded.

"I love you so much, Danni," Jennifer said, "I want to hug and kiss you so much right now."

"I love you too, Jen." Danni turned to walk down to their house. As they watched her go, Mary realized that Jennifer's breath was shallow; she was close to hyperventilating.

"Take it easy, honey," she told her.

Jennifer took a few deep breaths, then said, in a quavering voice, "Mary, what if I never hug and kiss her again?"

Mary held her tight. "You will, sweetie." She lifted Jennifer's chin and looked into her eyes. "Now, we are going in the house and finishing the cookies. And we are going to make sure that those little girls don't feel what we are feeling right now. Right?"

"You're right," Jennifer said. "You go on, I'll be in in a minute."

She watched Danni disappear around the house, took a few more deep breathes, then went inside and shouted, "Hey, we still need to make snickerdoodles!"

***

Danni hung up her jacket and locked her gun in the safe. She took a can of Pepsi from the refrigerator and drank half of it down, then went into the living room and flopped on the couch. She sat for a few minutes, her mind blank. I have to take off my boots, she thought, but made no move to do so. She thought about how Jennifer liked to sit on the ottoman and unlace and pull them off for her. She bent down and took them off, then lowered herself to the couch, pulling her knees up and hugging them against her chest.

The sound of her phone startled her, and she realized she had been dozing, though from the light, she knew it could not have been for long. She picked up her phone and saw that it was Sheriff Hickle. She knew what he was going to tell her before she answered.

"Hey, Chief," she said.

"Hi, Danni, how you doing?"

"So far, so good."

"Good. It's a hell of a thing. Anything we can do for you, just ask."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"I just wanted to let you know, well, Mrs. Hollins..."

"I figured."

"Yeah, she coded about a half hour ago."

"Thanks for letting me know."

"Danni, there wasn't anything more you could have done."

Danni sat in silence for a long moment. She was thinking of everything that had happened since the pandemic reached the county in March. She had stood guard outside the Harbor Home convalescent center when the outbreak there had taken eight residents. She'd seen the exhausted, haunted eyes of health care workers, heard the wailing voices of grief in the hospital halls.

In that moment, she felt every bit of the tension of the past nine months pressing at her. There had been more drug overdoses, more suicide attempts, more domestic violence, more people lashing out in anger and frustration by any means at hand. She had held it all inside herself. She had never shown the pain to her wife or her daughter.

"Danni, you still there?" the sheriff asked.

"Mike...is this ever going to end?"

"They say the vaccine will be ready real soon."

"I know that, but I meant..." She struggled for words.

"I know what you meant," he said. "Danni, I've been a law enforcement officer for more than thirty years. And...well, Danni, the answer is no. We will carry this year with us for the rest of our lives."

"How?"

"We just will, Danni. It's who we are."

"Thanks, Mike. Happy holidays to you and your family."

"Same to you...well, you being Jewish, you don't do Christmas, do you?"

"The family does, and I'm part of the family."

"Oh. Good. Take your joy where you can find it, dear."

"I'll see you soon, Chief."

She put down the phone and let out a deep sigh. All her joy was on the other side of a snowy cornfield. She got up and went into the bathroom, stripped out of her uniform and took a long, warm shower. As she was drying off, she heard a motor and went to the window to look out.

Alvin's truck was bouncing up the driveway. For some reason, he was hauling a large blue box on a trailer. Danni quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater, grabbed her jacket, stepped into her boots and went out to see what he was doing.

By the time she crossed the cornfield, he had parked the trailer in front of the house. The blue box looked to be about six feet wide on each side, and a bit taller than it was wide.

Mary and Jennifer were standing on the porch watching him, while Hannah and Bonita peeked out through the screen door. As she came closer, she heard Mary asking, "Alvin, what the hell is that?"

"It's an isolation box for Danni."

"That won't fit in the house."

"Not meant to," he replied, taking his toolbox from the cab of the truck. He pulled out a screwdriver and a hammer and mounted the porch. He kissed Mary on the cheek, shooed the girls back from the screen door, and in less than a minute, popped it off its hinges and set it aside. He saw Danni standing in the yard.

"I figured out how you can still spend Christmas with us," he told her. He hopped off the porch and went back to the trailer.

"I tacked together a frame of one by threes, then covered it with the plastic sheeting we wrap the boats in for the winter." He walked to the front end of the box. "Except this end, which I lined with clear plastic."

Danni nodded. "So that side butts up against the open doorway."

"Exactly. I've got an electric space heater and an LED lantern. You'll be as cozy as a clam."

"We won't be be able to hear each other though, will we?" Jennifer asked.

"We can use the baby monitor," Mary said.

"That's what I was thinking," Alvin said, breaking into a smile.

"How do I get in and out?" Danni asked.

"The back flap is only fastened to the top. You can tape it in place if it flaps in the wind, but make sure to let some air in."

"Uh, Daddy..." Jennifer asked, "How much does that thing weigh?"

Alvin shrugged. "Couple hundred pounds, I guess."

"How the fuck did you get it on the trailer?"

He stared at her as if the answer was obvious. "I built it on the trailer."

"So, how the fuck are you getting it off?"

"Well, I got you to help me now."

Mary crossed her arms and shook her head. "So, the plan is that Danni will be able to spend Christmas with us, but you are Jennifer will be in the hospital."

"It's not that heavy. I can pick you up, how much do you weigh?"

"Yeah, honey, you don't want to go there."

"I can help," Danni said. "I'll just stay on one side of the box, you guys stay on the other. Let me run and get a mask on."

Alvin stepped back from the trailer, scratching his head. When Danni returned, he said, "Well, alright then, I've got it planned."

Mary got into the driver's seat of the truck while Alvin and Danni gripped opposite sides of the box. Rather than pull, they held on to it while Mary slowly moved the truck forward. Jennifer stood at the front of the trailer, watching, and shouted for Mary to stop when the front of the box neared the edge.

Alvin and Danni let their end down to the ground then went to take hold of the front. Mary moved the trailer forward, out of the way, and they slowly pivoted the front around and set it on the edge of the porch.

"That was a pretty good idea, honey," Mary said as she got out of the truck.

"I have one sometimes," Alvin nodded.

"Well, that was one of them."

Alvin took one side of the box and Danni, the other.

"You ready?" he called.

"Yep."

"Alright, lift."

Without too much effort, they raised the back end of the box from the ground and slid it forward until it thumped against the house.

"You did it!" Jennifer shouted.

"Just a couple more things to do," Alvin said. He went to the truck and brought back the heater and lantern and a roll of tape. He sent Mary to find an extension cord, and Jennifer to fetch a camp chair from the garage.

When everything was set up, Alvin stepped back to look at his work. He turned to Danni. "What do you think?"

"I think you're a mensch, Alvin."

"That's good, right?"

Danni smiled. "It's wicked good."

Hannah and Bonita came around from the side of the house.

"Babies, you can't go close to Mama Danni," Mary called to them.

Hannah let out a dramatic sigh. "We know all about the virus," she said, rolling her eyes.

Bonita was carrying a plate. "We brought cookies for Mama Danni to have in her little house," she said.

Jennifer went to the girls and gave them each a hug, then took the plate of cookies and set it on the top step below the isolation box. "Let's go back inside, girls, it's cold out here and you didn't put your coats on," she said. She took their hands and began to lead them away. Bonita dragged her feet and looked back over her shoulder at Danni.

"Go on inside," Danni told her, "Everything will be alright."

Mary followed Jennifer and the girls into the house, leaving Alvin and Danni alone, twenty feet apart, separately searching for words to express their feelings.

After a minute, Alvin kicked at the ground a few times and said, "Well, alright then, might as well try her out."

"Might as well."

Danni stepped over to the box, lifted the flap and ducked inside. Alvin looked up at the sky. There were patches of purple sky between the scattering clouds. It's clearing up, he thought, likely it will get wicked cold tonight.

He went into the garage and found the box of leftover Christmas decorations. He and Marry had long debated the proper number of lights that belonged on the tree; she thought he was prone to overdoing it, pointing out that she really shouldn't be able to read by them. Every year they had the discussion, and every year, there were extra lights in the box when the tree was fully trimmed.

He untangled one set of colored lights and took it into the house. He smiled to see that Mary had set up a card table in the front hall and was setting platters of hors d'oeuvres on it. Jennifer was at the kitchen counter, mixing a bowl of egg nog. Hannah and Bonita sat crosslegged on the floor in the doorway.

"Mama Danni, can we use your box for a playhouse when you get better?" Bonita was asking.

Danni's laughter came through the monitor. "You have to ask Papa. It's really his box. And I don't have to get better, there is nothing wrong with me."

"Can we, Papa?" Hannah asked.

"Don't see why not," Alvin said. He bent down and picked her up. He set her on his shoulders and handed her the string of lights.

"Alright, now help Papa out. Hang that cord over the top of the door. See those little nails there?"

She hung the lights above the door. "I did it, Papa," she said with a tone of pride in her voice. As he lifted her down, he told Bonita to plug in the cord. She did, and when the lights came on, both girls clapped their hands.

"What a team!" Alvin said, and they giggled.

Jennifer loaded a plate with food and took it, along with a mug of egg nog, out to place on the porch for Danni, while Alvin and Mary dragged kitchen chairs into the hall. Jennifer returned and joined them.

The table was loaded with food. There were Swedish meatballs and stuffed mushrooms, cheese and clam dip and crackers. There was a big bowl of shrimp on ice and a baked wheel of brie, topped with cranberry relish and chopped pecans. And there were platters piled high with a dozen kinds of cookies.

They filled their plates, but then sat in awkward silence, each person struggling to find a way to raise their holiday spirits.

Suddenly, Hannah shouted. Angus had crept up behind her, then pounced and seized a shrimp from her plate.

Alvin laughed, and then the other adults did as well.

"Don't laugh!" Hannah insisted, "He's a bad kitty!"

"You should have been here the year he climbed up to the top of the Christmas tree and tipped it over," Alvin said.

"Oh my god, I forgot about that," Jennifer said. "Hey, do you remember the time he caught a bat and brought it in the house and let it go?"

"I think he did that more than once," Alvin said.

The mood in the house had changed, and one story from past Christmases flowed into another. Mary told about Alvin's first trip to California to spend the holiday with her family. Alvin countered with Mary's first Christmas in Maine. Jennifer talked about Christmas when she and Charlotte were little girls, then she looked at Danni and said, "I know what the best Christmas ever was. Right Danni?"

Danni smiled and nodded. "I can say that my first Christmas was my best."

"How can you remember your first Christmas?" Hannah asked.

"Well, honey, I was eighteen years old."

Hannah looked puzzled but shrugged and went back to her plate of cookies.

They talked and laughed and their worries drifted away. Mary's mother called to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. For an hour or so, it felt like Christmas was supposed to feel.

Alvin reminisced about holidays when he was young.

"That was ancient times," Hannah said.

"It was the seventies," he muttered.

"Grandma Hannah used to tell us..." Jennifer began.

"Grandma Hannah?" Bonita asked, her eyes wide.

"My Mom was named Hannah," Alvin said.

"I was named after her," Hannah added.

"I was named beautiful in Porgatease," Bonita boasted.