Enchanted Desire

Chapter 23

It was a wonderful Christmas Eve. In my family, that’s the one night of the year when everyone got together to eat and drink, talk and laugh. We also exchanged and opened our gifts. Christmas day, by comparison, was quiet and subdued. More often than not, Christmas morning was spent sleeping late after a full night of overindulgence.

Everyone brought food, creating a menu that was a veritable smorgasbord of holiday delights, including a bounty of traditional Irish fare, such as spiced beef, which my Aunt Nora had been preparing for over a week, spicing the meat before cooking and pressing it. There was an assortment of tasty appetizers, as well as healthier snack choices of mixed fruits and raw vegetables that Courtney bought at an organic market. The goose I roasted came out perfect. There was also ham, a host of potato dishes, and a mixed salad. The sangria that my father’s girlfriend, Carol, made was a big hit. An abundance of desserts, which I craved more than anything else on the Buckley family holiday menu, consisted of cookies, cakes, and plum pudding, which most everyone enjoyed with Irish coffee or a liqueur.

A lot of my mom’s family came to visit, which

was really nice. It was good to see Auntie Joyce and Uncle Rick. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen their daughter, Vickie, and a bunch of other cousins on my mother’s side. I even spent some time talking and getting to know my dad’s girlfriend, Carol. I liked her. She was smart and funny, and she seemed to genuinely care for my dad. It turned out that she was part Cherokee, a topic of conversation that I steered clear of, even though it interested me. I did not want to have Courtney overhear what we were talking about. I saved that conversation with Carol for another time.

Around nine o’clock, it began to snow. There had been nothing in the forecast, and when it started it didn’t seem as if it were ever going to stop. It came down heavily for a while, and everyone was excited. As it began to stick to the ground and accumulate, many of us went outside like jubilant school children on a snow day, delighting in the first winter storm of the season.

I raised my arms and looked up into the flurry of thick white flakes cascading down from the heavens. They tickled my nose and landed on my eyes, but I didn’t care. I opened my mouth and let them dissolve on my warm, wet tongue, swallowing as much as I could.

Because the snow packed so easily, a snowball fight soon broke out. When someone found an old football, the boys organized an impromptu game of tackle in the front yard.

We opened gifts a short time later, with a lot of the typical presents being exchanged. Courtney thought she was being clever and funny when she

gave me a gift basket of assorted olive oil.

“Use it in good health,” she said with a wry smile and a wink. “Olive oil is fantastic for the skin. A natural lubricant for the entire body.”

After all the guests had gone home and everyone in the house was in bed, I stayed up by myself. Even Courtney had called it a night. She had a lot to drink, overindulging on the sangria. I wasn’t really tired, so I opened a bottle of Chardonnay and spent some time cleaning and tidying up. The kitchen and dining room were far from spotless when I was through, but it would do until tomorrow, when Courtney would attack the mess and the germs with an abundance of enthusiasm and an equal amount of bleach.

By the time I plopped down on the recliner it was well after midnight, and I was exhausted. A Christmas Story was on TV, but I didn’t pay any attention to it.

Another Christmas without my mother had come and gone, and as I topped off my wine, a tear streaked down my cheek. So much had changed since she’d been gone. At the same time, so much was back to normal. I was home again, for one thing, and she would have liked that. She’d never met David because we hadn’t started dating until after she died, but I’m sure she would have been just as happy as everyone else that our relationship was over.

I started to feel a little chill, so I got up to retrieve a fleece blanket from the closet. I switched on the gas fireplace before I sat back down and snuggled up beneath the comforter.

After refilling my glass, I felt my face flush, though it was not the wine, or even the warmth of the propane heat from the fireplace radiating all around the room.

Even after all the merriment and activity, as well as the excitement generated by the falling snow that evening, I couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense that something else was missing, besides my mother. When my right hand strayed between my legs, I knew precisely what that something was. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh, thinking about Kenny.

Maybe snow on Christmas Eve wasn’t quite a miracle, but it was a blessing of sorts, clearly a gift, maybe even something conjured up by a certain Hopi Indian or the “Spirit Father” himself, the sacred Kachina with its power and influence.

Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part, but Kenny was clearly on my mind, and I hoped that I was in his thoughts, too. With no way of knowing, I wanted to believe that he had somehow made it snow for me in Massachusetts on Christmas Eve, a mystical sign indicating that he was thinking of me. Then I remembered something Kenny had said about Kachinas having human-like relationships and even marrying and having children. I don’t know why the thought occurred to me at that moment, but I didn’t give it any further thought. Not just then, at least.

I set my wine glass on the coffee table, and I slipped my pants off. Pressing the palm of my right hand firmly between my thighs, the sensation instantly sent a ripple of pleasure around my entire

body. As I slowly increased the pressure, my eyes inadvertently glimpsed the gift basket of olive oil under the tree.

Dare I open a bottle and indulge myself with it right here, right now?

As risky as it may have been to even consider doing on the couch in the family room, I was too turned on to care. I was going to get myself off.

Suddenly, I heard the crinkly sound of wrapping paper being handled, and I immediately stopped my autoerotic exploration. I expected to see my sister standing in the room staring at me in stunned silence. But there was no one there. I was alone.

I heard the sound again and turned in the opposite direction, the tree filling my entire vision. The flickering white lights held my gaze and put me into a kind of hypnotic trance, which was broken all at once by something under the tree that caught my eye. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I sat up higher to get a better look at the object. It was an unopened gift that had been left under the tree.

How did that get missed?