Being 15 wasn’t always bad. Just ask Kathleen Marie O’Houllihan. But it could be – especially when parents are around and rules abound. And if parents and their rules aren’t bad enough for someone who has to endure school, curfews, homework, housework and a ten-year-old sister, they throw Christmas at you!
Oh, Katie thought
Christmas was okay in one sense. You get two weeks off from school and you make
out like a bandit when it comes to grandparents and godparents sending you
money. And the presents under the tree? That’s no big deal either. You got your
parents so cowed they wouldn’t dare take a stab at initiative and buy you
something you hadn’t already pointed out to the in the stores.
So you knew what your
big presents were before they were even wrapped and put under the tree. Of
course, you never got what your really wanted like your own cell phone or, at
the very least, your own telephone line with an answering machine so you won’t
miss even one call.
The other presents from
aunts and uncles were probably baby stuff like small gold earrings or too-cute
soap or flowery underwear you wouldn’t even put on your dog.
But Christmas brought
with it a special torture for Katie: Christmas music – dumb, stupid Christmas
music. I mean your father takes over the CD
player and does nothing but play his dumb, stupid Christmas music over
and over. Whatever happened to good music like the Backstreet Boys or even the old U2 stuff.
The music isn't the
end of it. Next come all of the specials on TV like Rudolph the Red-Nerd
Reindeer, Frosty the Dorkman and The Geek Who Stole Christmas. Then
come a whole assortment of TV movies about families who get together and cry,
and then fight and cry until the end of the movie when they make up and cry.
Katie’s father even
went out and purchased a copy of It’s a Wonderful Life, the king of Christmas movies
which her dad watches at least a 100 times. He so silly about that movie that he
tears up while the opening credits are rolling across the screen.
Where have all the
good movies gone like Titanic or Scream?
That’s what Katie
would have told you, anyway, if you had asked her before that Christmas …
… that Christmas when
she and her best friend, Casey Cowan, were 15, sitting in Katie’s room, talking.
Katie was complaining about the grade on her Biology exam. She attempted to
convince Casey (and herself), that the teacher, Mrs. DeVincentes, gave her a
“D” because the woman obviously hated her. Katie was in mid-sentence when the
strains of Perry Como singing, There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays
began to drift up from the family room below.
Katie stopped talking,
glanced towards the door and rolled her eyes up in her head dramatically.
“Jeeze, Casey! He’s only listened to that retarded song a thousand times since
Thanksgiving. What is it with my father and this dumb Christmas music?”
“I know what you mean,
Katie. My dad’s the same way. Most of the year he’s screaming at some baseball
player on TV. But at Christmas he gets all weepy every time he hears Jingle
Bells. He’s so cute.”
Katie rose from the
bed where the girls were lounging and shut her door. She marched over to the
stereo on her desk and began to look through some CD crystals. Deciding on one,
she removed the disk from its case, slipped it into the player and pushed the play button. After a brief moment,
guitars ground out of the speakers while a singer who sounded like his jockey
shorts were three sizes too small, screeched through the whamming bass. Katie
began to dance to the music, her eyes closed, while Casey lay back on the bed
staring at the ceiling.
“You wanna hear the
worst, Casey?”
“What?”
“The other night my
dad actually got pissed because I didn’t want to help decorate the Christmas
tree. I hung up the ornament with my name on it and my stocking like he asked.
I mean, like what does he want?”
Casey sat up and
regarded her friend. “I don’t know, Katie. We did our tree last weekend and it
was fun. My mom always makes hot chocolate and cookies. We decorate for awhile,
then stop and pig out.”
“Well, we didn’t even
have any Diet Coke in the house.” Katie stopped dancing long enough to look at
herself in the mirror over her bureau. Pulling at the hair on her forehead in a
futile attempt to get her bangs to hang straight, she frowned. “Damn!” she
said.
“What’s wrong,” asked
Casey.
“That stupid jerk at
the beauty shop cut my bangs too short. Look. They won’t even hang right. I
should sue her dumb behind.”
“Can you do that?”
“Sure. I’ve seen them
do it on Judge Judy lots of times. I bet I’d win, too. These bangs make
me look mental.”
“I think you look
okay, Katie.”
“Yeah? You can
talk. I mean look how long your bangs
are.”
Casey lifted a few
tufts of hair away from her eyebrows. “Well, I like mine long to cover my eyes.
You know how I hate my eyes.”
Katie walked over and
sat next to her friend. “Come on, Casey. You got the prettiest eyes. I mean
they’re so dark and mysterious.”
“You mean little and squinty. I’d love to have your eyes. Green eyes are the best. And they go just perfectly with your hair. I wish I had red hair like yours instead of this old mouse brown.”
Katie eyed her friend with a knowing smile and said, “I’ll bet Vinnie doesn’t complain about your hair or your eyes.”
“Vinne!” snorted Casey. “He’s never looked up any higher than my chin. I could be bald with a patch over one eye and he’d never notice.”
“Well,” said Katie, “if you get bored with him, I’ll take him. He can look at anything on me he wants.”
“Oh, yeah?” teased Casey, “what about Mark? I thought you were so hot for him. I mean I got about a million notes in my folder from you about Mark.”
“He’s okay,” said Katie falling back on the bed.
“Only ‘okay’? Come on Katie, what gives?”
Katie brought the back of her hand up to her forehead in an exaggerated pose, saying, “He only loves me for my mind!” At that Casey fell back on the bed next to her friend, both girls squealing with laughter.
A car horn blew twice outside the house.
“Darn,” said Casey, ‘there’s my mom. For once I wish she could be late.”
Casey stood up and reached for her coat. She began to put it on. Katie sat on the edge of the bed.
“Call me tomorrow, will you Casey?”
“Sure. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, you know.”
“Don’t remind me,” said Katie. “I’ll be a prisoner in this house for the next two days. They’ll tie me to a chair and I’ll be forced to listen to Christmas music from hell for 3600 straight hours.”
“Come on, Katie,” said Casey, putting a hand on her friend’s arm. “It won’t be that bad.”
“Hmmp!” was the only response Katie could muster. The horn sounded again from the driveway. From somewhere below, Katie’s mother shouted.
“Casey. Your mother’s here.”
“Coming Mrs. O’Houllihan.” And then to Katie as the two started out of the room, “Merry Christmas, kid. Get through the next two days and you’ll have it made. We’ll go to the mall and spend all our Christmas money, ‘kay?”
“If I’m still alive by then,” said Katie resignedly. “I wish I could spend Christmas with you.”
Casey started down the stairs with Katie following. “Me, too, Katie, but we’re driving to Wisconsin to spend Christmas with my grandma. We’ll probably leave around noon tomorrow. I’ll call you before we go.”
As the two girls reached the bottom of the staircase, sounds of Jingle Bell Rock drifted towards them. Katie looked at Casey and stuck her finger in her mouth feigning a gag. Casey gave her a small smile.
At the front door, Katie handed Casey her school bag saying, “My grandpa’s coming here Christmas day along with a couple of zillion aunts and uncles and their brats from hell. Maybe I’ll get lucky. I’ll get some horrible disease and die before then.”
Casey whipped around and face her friend squarely. “Don’t say that, Katie! That’s awful!”
“Who’d miss me anyway,” Katie mumbled.
“I would,” said Casey. She put her hands on Katie’s shoulders. “Come on, kid. It’s just for one day.”
“Yeah,” said Katie. “One long day.”
“You’ll survive,” said Casey slinging her book bag over her shoulder. “Merry Christmas, kid.”
“Yeah, you, too, Casey. Call me tomorrow before you leave.”
“I will,” said Casey opening the front door and walking outside. “Promise.” And with that, she skipped down the steps. Katie stood at the front door watching her as she ran across the lawn towards his mother’s car. A light snow was just beginning to fall. Katie didn’t hear her father come up behind her.
“Might just have a white Christmas after all,” he said, catching Katie by surprise and causing her to start.
“Jeeze, daddy! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you. Say, I was just going to watch It’s a Wonderful Life. Why don’t you join me? It’s the colorized version. I just bought it at Blockbuster today.”
“No thanks, daddy. I think I’ll just take a shower and read something. I’m kinda tired.”
“Okay, sweetie.” He turned and headed towards the living room singing, O, Christmas Tree to himself.
“O, Christmas tree?” Katie mumbled under her breath. “Oh, barf!” she said out loud as she began to mount the stairs.