| Author: |
M. McDonald |
| Dated: |
Wednesday, December 01 2004 @ 12:00 PM EST |
| Viewed: |
3768 times |
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Shelby looked at the shelf full of sweaters in the basement. They were Christmas sweaters, knitted for Pete by his mother every Christmas. Every sweater had a Christmas design: a tree, a wreath, a reindeer, some symbol of Christmas.
Shelby and Pete had been married for twenty years, and there were 20 Christmas sweaters on the shelf, each in its own plastic bag, and each with its own label, noting the year it was made and the design on the front. Shelby hated them all.
She didn’t like Christmas earrings or Christmas ties, but she especially didn’t like Christmas sweaters. She dreaded the moment when Pete opened his Christmas present and found a Christmas sweater in its cellophane bag, already labelled.
Shelby thought she wouldn’t mind the sweaters so much if Pete would only wear them on Christmas Day. But Pete liked the sweaters. He wore them for the whole Christmas season. Shelby sighed. The Christmas season was about to begin. Today they were going to go buy the Christmas tree and Shelby knew that once the tree was decorated, it was Christmas sweater season.
She knew that Pete would beam with delight at the tree, would feel suddenly infused with the spirit of Christmas and that his thoughts would turn to his Christmas sweaters. It was one of the reasons why she always resisted buying the tree for as long as possible.
She noticed that one of the sweaters had fallen to the floor. She picked it up to put it back on the shelf but the sweater slid out of its bag. “1982– Snowflake”, she read on the label at the neck. It was one of his oldest sweaters. Shelby went to fold it, and smiled when she realized how small it was. He won’t be wearing 1982 any time soon, she thought. She grabbed the box of Christmas decorations she’d been looking for, and went back upstairs.
When she went into her daughter’s room later, she saw that the cat was sitting on Vanessa’s pillow. Albert had developed a fondness for Vanessa’s room when she left for college. The last time Shelby was in Vanessa’s room, she noticed the pillow was covered with cat hair. She’d tried shutting the door to the room, but Albert had scratched a hole in the rug, trying to get in.
Shelby walked in the room and shooed Albert off the pillow. It was covered with cat hair again. She picked up the quilt at the end of Vanessa’s bed and draped it on the pillow. It was really too big for the pillow, thought Shelby. She needed something smaller. Like a sweater, she thought glancing at Vanessa’s closet. An old sweater.
A Christmas sweater, she thought. She went down to the basement and got 1982 – Snowflake and draped it across Vanessa’s pillow. As Albert jumped on the sweater and sat on it, Shelby thought that it had never looked better.
A couple of hours later, Shelby and Pete heard their son calling them. “Mom! Dad!” Max’s voice was high and excited and he sounded eight instead of thirteen. “Come here! Hurry!”
They found Max in Vanessa’s room. “Look!” he said, pointing at Albert.
Albert was on top of the Christmas sweater on Vanessa’s bed. He had a piece of the sweater between his teeth and he was kneading it fiercely with all four feet. He was totally intent.
“Listen to this,” said Max. He touched Albert lightly and Albert squawked loudly. It was a loud, hoarse sound they’d never heard before. Albert kneaded faster and faster and squawked again. He tightened his bite on the sweater and swung his head from side to side. He gave one final squawk before he stopped biting the sweater and laid down, his eyes slowly closing.
They all stared at Albert.
“Jesus,” said Pete. “All he needs is a cigarette.” He looked closer at the sweater.
“Is that one of my Christmas sweaters?” he asked, looking accusingly at Shelby.
“It’s from 1982,” said Shelby. She tried to pull the sweater out from under Albert to show him. Albert hissed.
“It’s way too small for you,” she said. “Max could wear it.”
“But I won’t,” said Max, looking alarmed. He had made it very clear to his grandmother when he was four that he refused to wear a Christmas sweater. Shelby still enjoyed the memory.
“I don’t know why no one likes Christmas sweaters but me,” said Pete.
“Albert likes them,” said Max, grinning. He knew his father didn’t like Albert, that he only tolerated him.
“Maybe he just likes this particular sweater,” said Shelby.
Max got a thoughtful look on his face. When Shelby walked into the family room later, she saw Christmas sweaters folded neatly on Albert’s favorite spots.
1983 – Star was on the love seat, 1984 – Tree was on the gold chair by the fireplace, and 1985 – Snowman was on the ottoman. She walked into the kitchen and found Max putting 1986 – Rudolph on the window-seat.
Pete wasn’t sure he liked the idea.
“I’m trying to get Albert to stop sitting on Vanessa’s pillow,” said Max, trying to look virtuous. “Anyway, these are all old sweaters. You couldn’t even wear them.”
Pete looked indignant and picked up 1986. “I haven’t gained that much weight.” He held the sweater up and looked at his reflection in the window.
“Mini me,” said Max.
“Probably shrank,” said Pete.
Pete and Shelby looked at each other. They both smiled.
“Maybe not,” said Pete.
Albert reappeared from Vanessa’s bedroom and discovered the sweater on the love seat. He clamped it between his teeth and start kneading. Max was fascinated. He touched Albert lightly and Albert squawked.
“It’s kind of creepy,” said Pete.
“In an interesting kind of way,” said Shelby, watching despite herself.
“I thought he was fixed?” asked Pete.
“He is. I don’t understand it. He’s ten. He’s kind of old for this.”
“Mid-life crisis,” said Max, touching Albert again and chortling when the cat squawked.
“He doesn’t get a mid-life crisis before I do,” said Pete.
It wasn’t until later that night, when Shelby and Pete had turned out the lights, and were both almost asleep, that a thought occurred to Shelby. Max couldn’t have seen Vanessa’s pillow from outside the room.
“What was Max doing in Vanessa’s room?” she asked as Pete started to snore gently.
She found out the next day. She was vacuuming in Max’s room and hit something under the bed. One of Vanessa’s Victoria’s Secret catalogues. Flipped open. Just laying there under the bed. She pulled it out and took it to show Pete.
“What do I do?” she said. “I found this under Max’s bed.”
Pete looked at it and laughed.
“It’s not funny,” said Shelby. “He obviously took it from Vanessa’s room. He was obviously looking at it. It was open. I’m not sure what to do.”
Pete looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“Do I put it back and not say anything, or do I give it back to Vanessa and not say anything, or do I give it back to Vanessa and talk to Max? Maybe you should talk to Max,” said Shelby.
“I’ve already had that talk with Max,” said Pete. It had been awkward, he really didn’t want to do it again. “Just put it back,” he said.
“I don’t know what page it was open to,” said Shelby. “He’ll know I’ve seen it.”
“He probably doesn’t know what page it was open to,” said Pete. He thought about this. “Unless he has a favorite model.”
Shelby looked upset.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter if he knows you saw it,” said Pete. “Maybe then he’ll hide it in his underwear drawer like a normal kid.”
“I’m not sure we should give it back. For one thing, it’s Vanessa’s.”
“She’s not going to want it back if she knows where it’s been,” said Pete, grinning. “Relax. This is totally normal. He’s thirteen. He’s thinking about sex. That’s what 13 year old boys do. They think about sex. They talk about sex.” Pete looked at his wife. “They usually don’t have sex,” he said, reassuringly, “but they think about it a lot. 100% of the time probably. Of course, so do most men,” he said.
“Not 100%!” said Shelby.
“Goes down to 50% once you’re past forty,” said Pete. He grabbed the magazine from Shelby’s hand. “I’m putting it back,” he said, heading towards Max’s room. He flipped open the magazine and whistled slowly, and then laughed as he looked back at Shelby. “Just kidding,” he said.
Albert continued to be fascinated by the Christmas sweaters. Max continued to be fascinated by Albert. Christmas sweaters continued to show up in different places around the house. 1987 – Sleigh was perched on Albert’s favorite dining room chair, 1988 – Snowman was on the living-room couch, and 1989 – Jingle Bells was on the end of Max’s bed.
Shelby objected when she caught Max putting 1990 – Nativity Scene on her bed. “Not the Baby Jesus,” she said. She had always had a problem with that sweater.
“What kind of person would put the Baby Jesus on a sweater?” she’d asked her friends.
“Not on our bed,” said Pete coming in behind her.
“Where’s the Baby Jesus?” asked Max.
“This fluffy white ball is his face,” said Shelby.
“What are these other fluffy things?” asked Pete.
Sometimes Shelby wasn’t sure if they were kidding or not.
“I can’t believe we’re watching Albert while we’re eating dinner,” she said later, as they watched him bite and knead the sweater on the window seat next to the table. Albert squawked.
“Maybe he needs counselling,” said Shelby.
Pete and Max stopped staring at Albert and stared at her.
“I’ve heard of this place where pets can get counselling to deal with issues and stress in their life,” said Shelby.
“Maybe you can just take the money and throw it in the garbage,” said Pete. He kept looking at Shelby. “ Maybe you can just take the money and rip it in half.”
“Maybe you can just give the money to Max,” said Max. He looked back at Albert. “That’s his favorite sweater,” he said. “He loves it the best.” He smirked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“Maybe you need counselling,” said Shelby. She was worried that maybe Max did think of sex 100% of the time. She wasn’t sure why she was worried, she knew it was normal for a thirteen year boy to think of sex. She just hoped he didn’t actually have sex for awhile. She couldn’t believe she was worried about Max’s sex life when he was only thirteen. What was it going to be like when he was older? When he could actually get someone pregnant. A horrible thought struck her. Could he get someone pregnant now?
She looked back at Albert. “He probably likes that sweater because Pete spilled food all over it when he was wearing it.” She looked around the kitchen and into the family room. “There’s a whole decade of sweaters here,” she said.
“The 1980s were festive,” said Pete.
“It’s getting ridiculous,” said Shelby. “The only good thing is, I took the sweater out of Vanessa’s room and Albert doesn’t go in there anymore.”
“Wait until Vanessa sees Albert on a sweater. She’ll be grossed out,” said Max, imitating Vanessa’s voice.
“Don’t make fun of your sister,” said Shelby. She looked at Pete. “You don’t suppose she’ll still be saying that, do you?”
“Like, totally,” said Pete.
“Don’t make fun of your daughter,” said Shelby.
“That is so gross,” said Vanessa, when she came home for Christmas break and saw Albert mount a sweater.
“Knew it,” said Max to Pete.
Vanessa looked around. “They’re everywhere,” she said. “Does he do that to all of them?” She giggled. “Grandma is going to be so mad. I can’t wait until she sees this. She’s going to totally flip out.”
“Grandma’s not going to know,” said Shelby pointedly. “We’ll put them away on Christmas Day.”
“I don’t know why you guys can’t, like, just be honest with her,” said Vanessa. Her face got an expression that Shelby and Pete knew well. Stubborn and righteous. Shelby glared at her daughter. Vanessa was capable of deciding it was her duty to tell her grandmother about the sweaters. I can’t believe I’m glaring at my daughter, she thought, when she’s only been in the house for five minutes.
“You’re not telling your grandmother if you still want to get an allowance,” said Pete. “You’ll be the poorest kid at college. Destitute.”
“Whatever,” said Vanessa. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I was just making an observation.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, her red thong clearly visible above her low-rise jeans. They heard her scream a few seconds later. “I don’t want Albert on my pillow! Get this sweater out of here! It’s disgusting!”
Pete and Shelby looked at Max. “Get it out of there,” she said.
“What is Vanessa wearing?” asked Pete. “She’s hardly got any clothes on. You can see her underwear. Was that a thong?” He sounded appalled. “I don’t think we should let her wear thongs.”
Shelby looked at her husband. “When was the last time you did the laundry? She’s been wearing thongs for over a year,” she said. “They’re all wearing them. Low-rise jeans, thongs, and midriff tops. That’s what you wear if you’re between thirteen and thirty.”
“I don’t like it,” said Pete. “It makes her look…” Pete couldn’t think of the right word.
“Sexy?” asked Shelby.
“That’s not the word I was thinking of,” said Pete.
“Whatever,” said Shelby. “That’s what she’s trying to look like.” She grinned. “You know why? Because young girls think about sex all the time. Probably 100% of the time. It’s just normal. Sex, and makeup and clothes. That’s pretty much all there is. You’ve got to relax about these things.”
“Have you ever resisted saying I told you so in your whole life?” asked Pete. He leered at her and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Do women think about sex 100% of the time?” he asked.
“No, it goes down to 50% once we get married. Disappears completely if we have kids,” she said as she went to find out why Vanessa and Max were shouting at each other.
Vanessa and Max were divided on whether it was funny to put a Christmas sweater on someone’s pillow, but they were united in their belief that Albert’s infatuation with Christmas sweaters was one of the funniest things they’d ever seen. It was Vanessa that came up with the idea of videotaping Albert and sending it to America’s Funniest Home Videos. It was Max who discovered that you could initiate a courtship by just dropping a sweater in front of Albert. It helped if you left a piece of the sweater sticking up so he could grab it with his teeth.
It was more difficult to film Albert than they’d expected. The first attempts were too dark and Albert was just a shadowy figure with bizarre glowing eyes. Pete came home to find Shelby in the kitchen, Albert on a sweater, his daughter holding a spotlight, and his son holding the video camera. Every light in the house was on.
“He’s lit up like a porn star,” said Pete.
“He’s an animal,” said Max, snickering. “I think we got it.” He watched the film on the camera. “Look! We got it.” He handed the camera to Pete.
Pete looked through the viewfinder. You could clearly see the label of the sweater, 1983 – Star. “Your grandmother wouldn’t think this is one of the funniest home videos.”
Shelby grabbed the camera and looked at the clip. She tried to suppress a laugh. “Your grandmother would never talk to us again,” she said, handing the camera to Max.
“It’s win-win,” argued Max. “We’d win $10,000 and Grandma would never talk to you again.”
It was at that moment that Shelby spotted Pete’s mother’s car coming to a stop in front of their house. She screamed. “Your mother is here!” They all stared uncomprehendingly at her.
“She’s here! She’s parking the car!” Shelby looked frantically around the room. “We’ve got to hide the sweaters!”
Shelby ran around the room, plucking up sweaters. The doorbell rang. She hissed, “Clean this up!” as she went to get the doorbell, throwing a bundle of sweaters into the hall closet as she passed. She was just about to open the door when she spotted 1991 – Angel folded on the wooden bench by the door. She snatched it up and opened the door. She thought, she hoped, she heard the flurry of activity behind her.
As Shelby greeted Pete’s mother and led her to the kitchen, she noticed 1987 – Sleigh was still on Albert’s favorite chair on the dining room. She tried to block Pete’s mother’s view as they went past. When they got to the kitchen, Shelby looked quickly around. Everything looked normal, except for Albert, who was looking ruffled and wild-eyed. There was no sweater in sight. Everyone, but Pete’s mother, was unusually animated and welcoming.
“What are you doing here, Mom?” asked Pete, hugging his mother, his eyes scanning the room over her shoulder.
“Someone just gave me chocolates at the Church. I can’t eat chocolates, too fattening, so I brought them for you,” she said. “Not you,” she said, looking at Pete’s stomach and then glancing at Shelby’s. “The kids.” Her eyes lingered on Vanessa’s thong, but she didn’t say anything.
She noticed then that Shelby was still clutching a Christmas sweater. “What are you doing with that?” she asked.
Shelby stood there, her mouth open. Her husband and children waited to see what she would say. For once, she thought, I have their undivided attention.
“I,” said Shelby. “I was going to try it on.”
Pete’s mother peered at the label and Shelby prayed she was too shortsighted to notice all the cat-hair. “1991 – Angel,” said Pete’s mother. “I had a lot of trouble with that one. It’s not one of my favorites.” She looked critically at Shelby. “It’ll probably be too small for you. Pete was pretty skinny then.”
Shelby is 5’4”. Pete is 6’. Not since he had been an adult had Pete come close to weighing less than Shelby. Shelby thought then that Max was right. It would be a win-win situation if the children won $10,000 for the videotape and Pete’s mother never spoke to her again.
Pete’s mother looked at him. “Why aren’t you wearing one of your Christmas sweaters?” she asked.
“Sherry, Mom?” asked Pete. He poured Shelby a large glass of white wine and then poured some scotch for himself.
“Hard to believe Christmas is only in two days!” he said, and toasted his wife and mother.
“Why aren’t you wearing one of your Christmas sweaters?” Shelby asked Pete later, as she went to have a shower before bed. “You always wear your Christmas sweaters.”
“Are you kidding?” asked Pete. “I’m afraid I’ll forget and lie down on the couch when I’m wearing one.” Pete liked to lie on the couch and watch sports, liked to fall asleep there, have a little nap.
Shelby didn’t get it for a moment and then she started laughing. “Albert,” she said, as she went into the shower. When she came out, she saw Albert on top of a Christmas sweater. A Victoria’s Secret Catalogue was open in front of him. She looked coolly at her husband. “How long have you been waiting to do that?” she asked.
Albert squawked.
“Oh, get a room,” said Shelby, pushing him off his sweater and shooing him out the door.
Shelby wanted to put the Christmas sweaters back in the basement at least until after Christmas but she got strong opposition from her children and Albert. Albert stalked around the house wailing loudly and Max and Vanessa argued that they needed to try to get a good video for America’s Funniest Home Videos before Vanessa went back to college.
“All right,” she finally snapped, “but you’re both putting them all away again before Grandma comes for dinner tomorrow.”
As she’d known it would be, Shelby was the one who collected the sweaters the next day and hid them. It’s better this way, anyway, thought Shelby, picking a spot that Max and Vanessa would never find. When Pete’s mother arrived in the late afternoon, Shelby was confident his mother wouldn’t find Albert attached to a sweater.
Shelby was prepared for the usual quiet Christmas they had whenever they spent it with Pete’s mother, and the first couple of hours were much the same as any other. Pete’s mother talked enthusiastically about herself for over an hour; had to be coaxed into having a glass of sherry and then had several; proclaimed herself too full to eat dinner; gave Shelby tips on how to avoid over-cooking turkey; and prefixed any remarks to her grandchildren with “When I was your age”.
There was one slight incident when Vanessa bristled at something her grandmother said but it was quickly resolved. Vanessa and her grandmother understood each other. Each thought the other was opinionated, self-centered and short-tempered. Both were right.
“The difference is,” Shelby once told Pete, “Vanessa has redeeming qualities.”
“Which will be evident at some point in her life, one hopes,” said Pete.
Pete’s mother continued to talk as Shelby and Pete cleaned up the dishes. She found herself endlessly entertaining.
“She’s the only person I know who sends out a Christmas newsletter about herself,” Shelby told her friends. “In the third person.”
Christmas Day started to take a different direction when they sat down to open their presents. Pete’s mother seemed to notice Albert for the first time. He had been prowling through the house and yowling for much the day.
“What on earth is the matter with that cat?” she asked irritably.
“He’s horny,” said Max under his breath, knowing his grandmother was short of hearing.
“Yes, ornery,” said Shelby loudly, knowing his grandmother seemed to hear when she wanted to.
“There’s clearly something the matter with him,” said Pete’s mother. She disliked animals in general, and cats in particular, and had been trying for years to convince Pete and Shelby to get rid of Albert. “Isn’t he getting kind of old? You should get him put down. Put him out of his misery.”
These sorts of comments had greatly upset Vanessa and Max when they were younger but now they were used to them. They liked to repeat those comments later to Pete and Shelby, and embellish them for their friends. They looked at each other now and grinned.
“He’s only ten, Mom,” said Pete. “Let’s open the presents.”
Pete’s mother usually gave Max and Vanessa checks for Christmas. Every year they got a check, $25 for Max and $50 for Vanessa “because she’s older.” It always infuriated Max and Shelby and Pete always made up the difference later.
This year, Vanessa got a package. From La Sensa. “Cool!” she said, as she held up a pair of thongs for them to see. They had Santa faces on them and “Bad Girl” was written over and over on the straps. Vanessa rustled through the rest of the package, exclaiming in pleasure.
“You gave her thongs?” Pete asked his mother.
His mother shrugged and waved her hands airily. “They all wear them,” she said.
Pete went to open his present and automatically reached for the long flat box. “Oh, it’s yours,” he said, handing it to Shelby.
The only present left was a brightly colored bottle bag.
“Campari?” asked Pete, as he pulled out the bottle.
Pete had never drunk Campari in his life. It was his mother’s favorite drink. He glanced at the tag. “To Joan from Hildy and Dan,” it read. Hildy and Dan were long-time golfing buddies of his mother’s.
“This is mine?” he asked his mother, indicating the tag.
“Just ignore that,” she said.
“Where’s my Christmas sweater?” asked Pete.
His mother sniffed. “I only give Christmas sweaters to people who appreciate them.”
Pete wondered whether his mother had hurt feelings or was only irritated at him. He decided she was only irritated. He glanced again at the tag. He knew his mother would have knit his sweater months ago.
“By any chance, did Dan get my Christmas sweater?” By any chance, he thought, do you already have Campari at home?
Pete’s mother’s lips thinned and she pointedly handed the remaining package to Shelby. It was a Christmas sweater. Shelby stared at the sweater. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She slowly pulled the sweater out of the box.
Oh shit, thought Pete. Max looked quickly at his mother’s face and Vanessa giggled.
“I thought you’d appreciate a sweater of your own,” said Pete’s mother.
“But how could you have done it so quickly?” asked Shelby. Then she noticed the label on the sweater. “1984 – Tree.”
She looked at Pete’s mother.
“I originally made it for Pete but then I decided the tree was too sparse-looking so I made another,” said his mother. “I’ve had this one ever since.”
“Thank you,” said Shelby. It was all she could say.
“What is this?” she asked, pointing to a black and white fluffy ball on the sweater.
“I just added that,” said Pete’s mother. “It’s Albert.”
She knows, thought Shelby, with a sinking heart. Somehow, she knows.
“Try it on,” said Vanessa.
There was no way she could refuse.
The sweater was tight at the neck and too big everywhere else. Shelby tugged at the neck and looked at Pete’s neck. How could his neck be smaller than hers? Pete’s mother looked complacent.
“Do you want a Campari and soda, Mom?” asked Pete, looking for an excuse to pour Shelby a large drink.
“Don’t mind if I do,” said his mother, settling in for a long visit. There was so much she hadn’t told them yet.
Shelby listened and drank her wine. Mostly she just drank her wine. The sweater was itchy - she had always been sensitive to wool. She tugged at the neck of the sweater and scratched. She wondered whether she would start getting Christmas sweaters every year. She didn’t know what she’d say to Pete’s mother but she knew that she would never wear a Christmas sweater again. She cursed herself for putting this sweater on, for not folding it up, and promising to try it on later. She cursed herself for not saying she was allergic to wool. And she cursed Vanessa for suggesting she try it on in the first place.
She was so preoccupied she didn’t notice at first that Pete was taking a photo of her. She glared at him. She knew he was thinking of making the photo into a poster, or putting it on a calendar or a coffee-cup. He smiled at her, knowing they would laugh at the photo someday. Maybe not for awhile, he thought, as he watched Shelby tug at the neck of the sweater and itch. She looked hot and uncomfortable and a blotchy rash was starting to appear on her neck.
Shelby was preoccupied with one thought, one thought which kept running through her mind, the thought of ripping the sweater off and throwing it on the ground. As soon as she leaves, thought Shelby, this sweater is coming off. The minute she leaves, the very instant the door shuts, I’m taking this sweater off.
But she didn’t.
When the door closed behind Pete’s mother, Shelby threw herself on the couch and moaned. “I thought she’d never leave!”
If Pete didn’t have his back to the door, he would have seen Albert walk in the room and he could have warned Shelby. Albert, who hadn’t given up on his hunt for a sweater, who desperately wanted to find a sweater, who, like Shelby, was hot and bothered by a sweater.
Albert saw the sweater on the couch. He flew through the air and launched himself onto the sweater. Shelby screamed and she and Albert both jumped off the couch, straight into the air, Albert still attached to the sweater.
Max caught it all on film.
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