Fear Not Then

Before going over, I peeked out the curtains. I can see Judd fussing with the Christmas tree. He was making sure every strand of tinsel was flawlessly placed. Making sure every red ornament was equidistant from every other, evenly dispersed amongst the green ones. Perfecting the tree which shown from his front parlor up and down the street. It had been Eleanor’s obsession. Judd was dutifully setting it up, along with garland and lights around the banister, candles in every window, stockings on the mantel, poinsettias on the hearth.
 
Well after midnight, he dropped into his chair and I headed over, fifth under my arm.
 
“Merry Christmas, Judd,” I said when he reluctantly opened the door.
 
“Same, Zack,” he sighed blocking the entrance, “I’d have you in but—”
 
“I know,” It’d been a rough year since she passed. “I won’t impose. I’ll just leave this and go.”
I held out the peppermint schnapps, “The bow was Marie’s idea. “
 
“Wives, aye,” he sniffed. “They like to fuss on the holidays.”
 
“Aye.”
 
“It’s cold out,” he shrugs, “Let’s get something warm in you before you go.”
 
We sat before the tree. He in his recliner. I in Eleanor’s wingback. The Bells of Saint Mary’s played on the old Seventeener.
 
“Come over tomorrow?” I asked. “We’d love to have you. Stay from toys through turkey.”
 
“I’ve some baubles for the boys, there,” he stared blankly. “But, I’ll be here with Eleanor.”
 
“You should get out,” I cautioned.
 
“She’s here, Zack. She’s in every nutcracker, every elf on every shelf.” He turned to sob.
 
“I know.” I set his drink on the side table and left.
 
The boys were fighting over toy trucks, and I nursing a coffee, when we heard the ambulance. I tightened my robe and rushed over to Judd’s. The paramedics were outside deciding the best way to move him on to a gurney.
 
“What’s the problem!?” I demanded.
 
 “No one wants to touch’em when theve’ gone off,” one said removing his sunglasses.
 
“Gone off?”
 
“Rotted, mate. He’s been sitting been dead in that chair, for a week anyway.”