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. Every culture in the world celebrates this season, the time whendarkness gives way to light, despair to hope, hatred to love.It s time to kickthose Christmas blues, babe.Santa Claus is coming to town!Assistant Professor of Economics Adeste Fideles knocked back another longswallow of eggnog.She was, as always, drinking the unleaded version, thewhole family having sworn off alcohol following Grandma Effie s terrifyingexperience. As you well know, Nia, I, like you, have absolutely no interest in havingsome portly dude sliding around in my & er & chimney.This time of theyear or any other.I m getting nuttin for Christmas and that s the way I likeit.The season s nothing more than a monumental demonstration of thecontinuing validity of Veblen s Theory of Conspicuous Consumption, anoverhyped holiday filled with all the brotherly love resident in a& anartichoke.A sad look filled her friend s eyes and Dusty softened the rhetoric a tad. Well, except for you and the delectable Ms.Mele Kalikimaka.I m sure thatyou newlyweds will be doing your very best to fill the Garden State withsisterly love.A blush suffused the drama instructor s beautiful brown face at the prospect ofher first Christmas with Mele since their marriage in Canada in August.Dustysmirked at her besotted friend, resolutely pushing away the remorse anddespair that jabbed her whenever she contemplated the dark and lonely daysahead of her. I can see it now, she continued, impishly. The two of you will be curled upin front of the fireplace, chestnuts roasting on an open fire.You ll spend theevening opening gifts wrapped in pretty paperand then unwrapping each otherand playing & Pat-a-Pan. You re still welcome to come over the river and through the woods toRahway, ya know, said Nia, when she stopped giggling. Mele s turned theplace into a veritable winter wonderland.You know, the kind of place thatbrings Martha Stewart to her knees & Oooh, kinky! Stop it, you! Nia backhanded Dusty goodnaturedly. It s fantastic, honest.One of the advantages of living with one of New York s great set designers.She really knows how to deck the halls.First she hung up the holly and theivy, then she placed a layer of silver bells over it.The tree s a feast oflights with a star of wonder at the top and a bottom row of jingle bells forthe kittens to play with.Up on the housetop, she s got Little SaintNick and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer and a sound system that playsthe Bobby Rivers Group Twisted Christmas Compilation on the half hour,24/7.She laughed and slapped her leg. God, the night she turned it on for the firsttime, the neighbors almost had a cow.The guy next door -- you know, oldLang Syne, the guy with the PROTECT MARRIAGE banner on the front ofhis house? just kept whacking the battery pack of his hearing aid androaring at his wife: Do you hear what I hear? For God s sake, is that guyreally singing about walking around in women s underwear?! A bemused grin lit Dusty s face. Sounds like cruel and unusual punishmentto me.I m amazed the cops haven t hauled your lesbo-pagan butts away.Nia smiled back. Well, they woulda if they coulda, but Mele made sure thevolume was one notch lower than the irritating carols that the church bellsdown the street ding dong merrily on high every hour on the hour.Kinda hardto lock us up without throwing Father Hanrahan in hoosegow, too.The Synescame by to complain anyway, of course.Mele greeted them at the doorwearing a grass skirt, a plumeria lei and little else. Oh my god -- What happened? Besides him drooling uncontrollably, Imean. You know Mele.She just grinned. Sorry, she says, doing herbest Fargo imitation. I yust go nuts at Christmas. Syne sputtered helplesslyfor a few minutes and then his wife hauled him home.Mele swears she wasgrinning every step of the way. Heh! snorted Dusty, momentarily jolted out of her depression.She shookher head. Well, as exciting as it would be to sit around and watch Melecorrupt the neighbors, I m looking forward to a blessedly silent night this year sans sniffling and coughing students, sans songs about chipmunks roastingon an open fire, sans the sound of the two of you rocking around theChristmas tree like crazed weasels.Sans Jessye, her aching heart added before she could muzzle it. You re sure? Nia looked anxiously into Dusty s blue eyes. Positive.Well, that was that, thought Nia.There wasn t much more she could say or do [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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