Deck the Halls
“Dad,” Julie called, sticking her head around the doorframe to her room, “telephone.” She placed her hand over the receiver, listening for her father to pick up the other line.
“OK,” Eric yelled in the direction of his daughter. He picked up the phone on the kitchen wall, “hello. Yes, this is Eric Taylor. I see, well yeah, um, I’d be honored.” Eric leaned against the wall and listened to the man on the other line. He smiled in the direction of his wife and raised his eyebrows, “yes sir, I’m sure we can all make it,” he assured the caller. “Again, thank you for this,” he said seriously. “OK, see you in a few weeks. Goodbye,” Eric hung up the phone and spun around to face his awaiting wife. “Oh baby, I won coach of the year,” he said excitedly. “We have to go to Ft. Worth for the award ceremony.” Eric looked at his wife and sheepishly smiled, running his hand through his hair, “wow,” he said shaking his head.
“Honey, that’s wonderful,” Tami walked over and hugged Eric. “I’m so proud of you,” she punctuated her statement with a kiss.
Julie walked into the kitchen, “what’s so wonderful?” She questioned narrowing her eyes as she watched her parents.
Eric broke away from Tami and smiled at Julie, “you’re looking at the state of Texas’ high school coach of the year.”
“Congratulations,” Julie reciprocated the smile and gave her dad a hug. “You know dad, this was your first year and you won state,” she began slowly. “I think you might want to consider staying at Dillon and going for a repeat,” she crossed her arms, her voice lowering a bit.
“Let’s just enjoy this moment,” Eric wrapped an arm around Julie’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Whatever,” Julie answered, stepping away from Eric. “Can I go over to Matt’s to study?” She asked.
Tami glanced at the clock. “You have dance at 7:30,” she told Julie. “It’s five now. Dinner's almost ready.”
“I’ll eat with Matt. It’ll be OK. He’ll take me to dance,” she assured her mom.
Tami sighed, “OK, your father or I will be at the studio to pick you up after rehearsal. Have fun.”
Julie flashed her mom a smile and walked to her room to grab her backpack and dance bag. Walking through the living room, she kissed Eric’s cheek, “congratulations, dad,” she said walking out the door.
Eric shook his head as Julie walked out the door. He turned to Tami, “how are we going to survive another one. We’ll be so old when the baby gets to be a teenager,” he almost shuddered. Bending down to Tami’s stomach he rubbed the area he thought the baby would be, “listen baby. Here’s the plan, OK. Your chomosones must split and you must be a boy. You can’t be one of them. I won’t have a chance for at least twenty years,” he talked to his unborn child. Eric loved his daughter and he was so happy to be having another child, in reality all he prayed for was a healthy baby. He wanted nothing more than to kiss all ten toes and all ten fingers. He glanced up at Tami. She was giving him an annoyed look. He smirked and spoke to the baby once again, “of course, I will love you no matter what you are.” Eric lowered his voice, “but it’d be great if we could decorate in blue,” he whispered.
Tami laughed and gently shoved her husband. “Please, don’t coach the baby on its sex,” she said jokingly. “Take a break, it’s the off-season.”
“Honey, before you stands coach of the year,” Eric began with a crooked smile, “I think I can coach anything, even the baby’s sex,” he nodded.
“Get your big head out of this kitchen,” Tami shook her head with a grin, “I’ll make some dinner and you can watch game film,” she added with a roll of her eyes. With that, Eric went into his office and Tami began to chop up vegetables for the salad.
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Julie pulled her jacket closer around her. Texas was supposed to be warmer, but she wasn’t feeling it. The town had put up the decorations for Christmas and Julie absently thought about what she should get Matt. Matt Saracen, QB 1. How did she, Julie “anti-football” Taylor end up with QB 1? She smiled to herself. She loved him. Julie didn’t use that word without merit and here she was, walking on clouds most of the time. Tyra had cautioned her about getting too caught up with the football players. Yet, Matt was much more than a football star that went after rally girls. Julie sighed and opened the gate to Matt’s yard. She knocked on the door. Matt’s grandma opened it, “hi Mrs. Saracen,” Julie smiled.
“Matty, Julie’s here,” she called, stepping back to let Julie in. “How are you?” Grandma questioned.
“Oh, I’m good. How are you?” Julie asked.
Grandma nodded and smiled, “I’m fine dear.” She furrowed her eyebrows and called again into the house. “Matt, you have a visitor,” she yelled.
Hearing some commotion, Matt finally appeared in the hallway. “Oh, hey Julie. Sorry, I was um,” he glanced back through the hall. Turning back to her he smiled and gave her a hug.
“Eww,” Julie said, stepping back. “Your hands are wet.”
Matt nervously wiped his hands on his jeans. “Um, I’m I’m sorry about, I just was in the bathroom. They’re clean.”
Julie smiled and shook her head. “Too much information. Come on, let’s go over the notes for the chemistry test,” she said setting her backpack on the table. Matt retrieved his book and sat down beside Julie. They reviewed the vocabulary and processes of ions. Both seemed to have a fairly good grasp on the information that they would need for tomorrows quiz. After a bit, Julie rested her head on a propped elbow, “you know, what they say about negative ions,” she said coyly.
Matt looked up from his notes with an expectant face, “no, no I don’t really know what they say about um negative ions,” he answered.
“Well, let me just tell you Matt Saracen,” Julie said taking his hand in hers. “They say that negative ions make people happy. That’s why so many people fall in love at Niagra Falls. It’s all in science.” She looked at Matt, “and that is the science of love,” she added raising her eyebrows.
Matt grinned, “I don’t believe that.”
Julie sat up straighter, “fine.” She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms. “Don’t believe it, but it’s true.”
Matt shook his head and laughed. He looked in the direction of the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” He asked. Julie nodded. Whatever Grandma was cooking in the kitchen certainly smelled good. “Can I set the table, Grandma?” Matt asked. He set his notebook and book behind the table.
“Sure, Matthew. That’d be great,” Grandma answered.
Matt set the table, with help from Julie. All three sat down to enjoy dinner. It felt good to have a third person around the small table. Matt and Julie joked and tried to create a conversation that would include Grandma.
Julie took a big bite of the meat, “this is great, Mrs. Saracen,” she smiled.
“I’m glad you like it dear. I always liked a girl that appreciated food,” Grandma said.
After clearing the dishes, Matt and Julie washed and put them away. It was getting late and Julie needed to be at the studio. She thanked Grandma and gave her a hug. The pair left and Matt made his way to downtown Dillon to drop Julie off. He kissed her, “have a good time,” he added.
“Oh, I will. We’re going over our Christmas program tonight. See you tomorrow,” Julie said walking into the studio. Matt watched her until he was sure she made it safely.
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Julie walked into the studio. She tied her hair in a loose ponytail and began stretching. Other girls filtered in and Julie greeted them with a smile. Mrs. Inkster grouped them together and led everyone through warm ups. Her daughter Mary was the focus of the Christmas program. Julie held her position, critically eying Mary’s movement. Mrs. Inkster’s voice told Julie she was out of alignment. “Sorry, ma’am,” she sputtered, moving in the correct position. Julie held her hand on her hip.. She sighed to herself. When Mrs. Inkster picked Mary to be well, Mary, Julie had compared her plies and classical dance moves to her. As far as Julie could tell, Mary may have better flexibility, but she felt she was more precise. When it was time for a break, Julie walked over to the bar and eyed herself.
“Hey, Julie,” Mary said walking next to her. She effortlessly placed her leg on the bar and bent down, stretching. “I’m really excited for the performance. Aren’t you?”
Julie plastered on a fake smile, “yeah Mary, I think you’ll do great. It’s a challenging routine that you had to learn. You make it look like junior class.”
Mary smiled, “oh I don’t think that’s entirely accurate. I’ve misstepped probably twenty times tonight. Haven’t you heard mom correcting me?” She asked. “I swear sometimes I wake up with a headache because I dreamed I’ve been in dance all night. It’s fun though,” she shrugged.
Nodding, Julie put both hands on her hips. “I think you’ll do great,” Julie smiled. Her stomach growled
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It was dark when Tyra finally pulled into her driveway. She’d worked late into the evening at Applebee’s. She noticed Mindy’s car parked in the driveway and sighed. All she really wanted to do tonight was take a shower and climb into her bed. Maybe she was coming down with a cold, but Tyra couldn’t place exactly what wasn’t feeling right. Of course, things hadn’t exactly been feeling right for a month now. Since, that night. She shuddered and grabbed her bag slamming the truck door. She walked into the house. Mindy was sitting on the couch, watching some Lifetime movie. “What are you doing here?” Tyra asked.
“It’s nice to see you too, Sis,” Mindy answered. She looked at the television. “Mom’s on her way home. Aunt Sandy passed away this evening.” She watched as Tyra walked to the kitchen and set her bag down. “So, yeah,” Mindy trailed off. She watched as her sister walked around the kitchen, not answering her. Tyra poured herself a glass of milk and pulled out an apple. “God, say something,” she ordered.
Tyra took a bite of the apple and chewed it slowly. “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry?” Tyra shook her head, “I met Aunt Sandy like once. It’s not like she was my best friend or anything.” She took a bite of her apple, “you can play the grieving niece all you want, but it doesn’t fit me.”
Mindy stood and walked over to the counter, “God you are so selfish,” she shot at Tyra. “This was the woman that practically raised mom. I mean, God Tyra, have some compassion. Mom was really upset when she called.”
Tyra rolled her eyes. She’d spent the last month mad at her mother. Angry that when she got off work each night, she was scared to enter the dark house. Yet, she pressed on. One thing that was going to be hard for her to muster was any compassion for her mother. “Whatever,” she shook her head and tossed the apple core in the trash. She picked up her bag and walked toward her room, “are you spending the night?” She asked.
Mindy sighed and shook her head. “Nah, I’m going to Rick’s after work. I’ll be here tomorrow, though, to help mom with the arrangements.” Mindy paused for a moment, “do you need a note for school, in order to get your assignments for the week?”
“I don’t need my assignments, I’m not missing school,” Tyra answered.
“Whatever, be a selfish brat,” Mindy said.
Tyra turned around and glared at her sister, “just shut up and leave. OK?” She shot a steely glare on her sister, “you’re not welcome here.” Tyra crossed her arms.
Rolling her eyes, Mindy went back into the living room and sat down. “I’m staying until mom gets home. She’ll need support. This is a difficult time for her.” She turned up the volume on the television.
Tyra went into her room and slammed the door. She didn’t want to fight with Mindy. She sighed and took her chemistry book out of her bag. Tyra’s mind wandered as she tried to study the stupid vocabulary.
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“Hey mom,” Jason called as he rolled through the house. “Mom?”
“Yeah, Jase,” Mrs. Street answered. She put the plate in the drainer and walked into the living room.
Jason smiled up at his mother, “hey mom, um is it OK if I ride down to Austin?” Why he still asked his mom if he could go places was beyond Jason, but he did live with his parents and it seemed like the right thing to do.
“Sure honey,” Mrs. Street replied. “Should we expect you back tonight?”
Jason smiled sheepishly and shrugged. He looked out at his truck, “um I don’t know. See Herk has this,” he thought for a moment, “this thing he wanted me to check on.” Jason’s eyes smiled as his face struggled to remain serious.
His mom chuckled and turned back to the dishes, “go and have a good time,” she encouraged. “Try and be careful.”
Jason rolled back to his room and picked up his bag. It’d been packed since Suzie had called him two hours ago. She had this art gallery thing and had invited Jason to the opening. He really didn’t care much about the art but Suzie, that was another story. “All right mom, I’ll see you later,” he called as he opened the door. He loaded up his bag and worked his way into his seat, dragging the chair up over the side. Resting for a moment, he looked back to the house. Jason nodded to his mom before starting up the truck.
“Jase,” his mom called.
“Yeah?”
“Tell Suzie we said hi,” she added with a smile. Jason nodded and dipped his head, pulling away from the curb.
Riding through Dillon, Jason saw the many signs of the Panther’s state championship. Worn, blue and yellow poster still clung to light posts. The fire company’s sign read
”Welco Home Champs.” Whatever welco meant. He drove past the school and toward the interstate. The team hadn’t received their rings yet. Jason really didn’t care about that. Maybe he was beginning to think like a coach. Coach Taylor had always told him that a true champion had to have a short memory. The fifty yard touchdown pass could easily be followed by three interceptions in a row. He had been happy when Smash ran that ball back. Yet, soon after returning to Dillon, Street began to focus on other things. If there was one thing this year had taught him it was everything was dispensable. Jason looked over his shoulder before merging into the traffic. He headed toward Austin, Dillon’s buildings fading in the landscape. Texas forever, he thought. Maybe. The farther the road took Street from Dillon, though, the less he thought about Riggs and Lyla, being quarterback. It was all gone. Maybe not gone, but definitely changed. Riggs had been the first to go. He’d waited weeks for his best friend to come through the doors. Then when he came, Riggs walked out with his girl. Jason thought for awhile he’d make a recovery. Maybe even make it back for the playoffs. Yeah, he’d been on the sidelines watching a kid march the Panther’s down the field. Jason shook his head, poor Saracen. Next year, he’d have him doing flips. Jason reached over to adjust the volume on the radio. He caught site of the tattoo on his wrist. State champion or not, probably the best time Street had in the past five months was try-outs at Austin. Livin’ large, he smiled to himself. Yeah, that was what the definition was, he thought pulling the accelerator.
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The knock at the door came too early. Billy stumbled through the dimly lit house. He squinted but couldn’t make out the blurry numbers. The knocking became more insistent. “Coming,” he called. Stepping into the door frame, he saw Lyla Garritey. Billy looked past her, seeing no car or any indication how she made it to the Riggin’s house. “Lyla,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
Lyla was tired and her mind was exhausted. Days had gone by as she tried to reconcile Tim and Jason. Her feelings for both compared little to the turmoil that had infiltrated her home. This should be the best time of her life. A senior going into her final semester of high school. It was far from the best though. Lyla crossed her arms and shifted, “is Tim home?”
Billy looked down the driveway. His brother’s truck was sitting there. “Um, yeah, Lyla. He’s in bed,” Billy began. He looked at the girl. What was she doing here, now? He stepped back, inviting her in. “Let me go get him. You can have a seat,” he offered. Billy moved some newspaper off the sofa so Lyla could sit down. “Tim,” he called down the hallway. “Hey Tim,” he said, louder. “Tim Lyla’s out here.” Billy looked back at Lyla who was just sitting on his couch looking alone. “Damn boy,” he mumbled walking toward Tim’s room. Billy pounded on the door, “Tim, get up. Lyla’s here.” Hearing no movement, Billy opened the door. The unmade bed was empty. “Jesus,” he sighed. Where could Tim be. His eyes were drawn to the neighbor’s house framed in his brother’s open window. Great. Billy sighed and shut the door. “Hey, Lyla, listen he’s not here,” Billy walked into the living room. “I don’t know where he’s at.” Lyla seemed to not hear him. Billy leaned against the door jam, watching the girl for a few minutes. “So I don’t know what he’s doing. I can give him a message if you want.”
Lost. One word to describe Lyla Garrity. Her family, boyfriend, life, all gone. It wasn’t like Jason’s loss though. This was all Lyla’s fault. Maybe not her family, but all the rest had been choices Lyla had made. Choices that began in this very house. So what was she doing here, now. Trying to find the self that she’d lost? She didn’t know. “No message,” she said flatly. She didn’t care. It was probably better that Tim wasn’t home. Lyla looked over as she felt the sofa springs shift. “I’ll just catch him later,” she said.
Billy reached for the remote. He leaned back and flipped through the channels. It was too early to be up. Yet here he sat in the dark with Lyla Garrity. His stupid brother God knows where. Everybody in town was talking about the Garrity’s. Buddy was pretty much screwed. He glanced over at Lyla who had crossed her legs. She had black cheerleading shorts on and a panther’s sweatshirt. Billy’s eyes lingered on her long legs. He swallowed hard and turned back to the TV. “Well, I’ll tell him you stopped by,” he managed to say. The air inside the house seemed to be really stuffy. Billy shifted on the sofa.
Lyla shrugged. She looked over at the older Riggin’s brother. His hair was messed up and his tattered jeans unbuttoned. Her eye’s followed his bare chest up to his lips. He had the same lips she love to kiss on Tim. She had no where to go, really. Jason wasn’t home. Tim wasn’t here. “That’s OK,” she almost whispered. Lyla crossed her legs, “I didn’t ask to see him,” she continued. “I just wanted to know if he was here.” She raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, “I’m sick and tired of the high school scene,” she said. “Rally girls, jocks, it’s all overrated.” Locking eyes with Billy, Lyla moved closer to him, “I think I’m ready to branch out,” she nodded, “trade in boys for a man.” Lyla almost laughed at her own words. She laid a hand on Billy’s thigh. She felt his quad muscle tense up.
“Lyla, what are you doing?” Billy questioned.
“Finding,” she answered, tracing his abdominal muscles with her hand. “I’m finding myself, Billy. It’s time to look further than I’ve been,” she said leaning into him. Pushing down Billy’s objecting hand Lyla’s lips found his neck. She smiled to herself as he moaned. This wasn’t what she really wanted or needed to be doing but it worked for now.
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It was the last day before Christmas break. Dillon high school was buzzing with the anticipation of two weeks out of school. Lyla walked down the hallway handing out invitations to her New Year’s party to various people. Tyra leaned against Julie’s locker and folded her arms. “I’m sure Garrity’s party will be standing room only,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Tyra had never been invited to a Garrity bash and doubted this would be the year. She watched as Lyla handed out a red envelope. “Unbelievable,” she mumbled.
“Hey Julie,” Lyla said with a smile. She handed Julie an envelope with her name printed on the outside. “You’re more than welcome to bring Matt.”
“Oh, uh, thanks Lyla,” Julie said not bothering to return the smile. Hopefully Matt wouldn’t want to go.
Tyra smirked at the girl. They’d shared their moment at State. Since returning to Dillon though, Tyra’s own life and stressors had pretty much wiped away any holiday cheer she had. “I don’t know, Julie,” she said. “You might want to leave Matt at home. Lyla here, seems to enjoy scoring with football players.”
Lyla’s eyes widened. She felt her heart start beating fairly hard. “You’re just jealous,” she said licking her lips. Since going over to Tim’s house a few nights ago, Lyla had visited Billy twice. She could still taste him on her lips.
“Right, Lyla,” Tyra shook her head. She turned to the lockers and switched a book. She turned back and looked at Lyla, “you know, my sister’s looking for someone to take her place on New Years. I guess though with your party and everything, it’d be pretty hard to juggle two gigs,” she said shutting her locker. “Although, seems like you’re getting pretty good at keeping a lot of people’s attention,” she shrugged. She looked over at Julie who had backed up a little bit, “here are you notes from the other day.” She handed Julie a red notebook. Tyra had gone to her aunt’s funeral. As she turned around, Tyra felt a strong shove and almost fell into Julie. She turned to see Lyla’s invitations scattering the ground and Lyla glaring at her. “Garrity, I don’t think you want to do that,” she warned.
Lyla’s eyes were angry. Tim. Her father. Jason. Tyra seemed to be an excellent outlet for all the rage Lyla had been harboring. She again shoved Tyra and smiled with satisfaction as the girl hit the lockers, “what?” She asked taking a step back.
Tyra had enough of her own rage to equal, if not trump Lyla. At least Lyla had a family that loved her. Tyra had nothing. Nothing but pain. Emptiness and anger. The buzz of the high school hall seemed to leave when Tyra shoved Lyla. Tyra was slightly bigger than Lyla and the brunette stumbled into a group. “Don’t touch me,” Tyra almost yelled.
Lyla regained her balance, but not her composure. “You’re right,” she smirked, “I don’t want to contract any disease.” She shot at Tyra.
The crowded hallway had suddenly became smaller. Julie tried inching backwards but an excited huddle suddenly formed around her. Fights at Dillon were legendary. She looked wildly around the students for Matt. She caught his eye and shook her head. He shrugged, not being able to move. Fights were big, but this was larger than usual. Two of Dillon’s prettiest, fiercest rivals were about to go at it.
Lyla made a mistake as she turned her back on Tyra. The blonde girl dropped her purse and grabbed for her. Tyra’s elbow caught Lyla’s cheekbone. Tyra kept slapping and trying to punch at her. Lyla managed to push her way to a bit of safety, scratching Tyra’s face. Tyra once again pushed into Lyla, causing them to fall on the ground. The two rolled around and tried to gain the upper hand. Fellow students cheered.
Tim Riggins was late getting into the hallway. It was eerily quiet though in the parking lot. As he made his way past the office and to his locker, he could see why. A mob had taken over the main hallway. “What’s going on?” He asked a girl.
“I have to get some help. Tyra and Lyla are into it,” she rushed toward the office.
“Crap,” Tim mumbled. He ran toward the mob and tried to push his way to the girls. “Get out of my way.” He said shoving a boy. “Move.” He wasn’t making much progress when the bell rang. The signal of the beginning of the day did nothing to break up the group. Tim continued to try and make his way to the girls. “Smash,” he yelled. “Get them.” Smash raised his arms in surrender. He too couldn’t make any headway.
“Watch out,” Mrs. Taylor’s voice rose over the hum. “Get to class,” she yelled. Teacher’s had finally been able to fight their way to the girls. When Mrs. Taylor got to the center the math teacher was standing between an attacking Tyra and retreating Lyla. “Tyra,” Mrs. Taylor yelled grabbing the girl. “Go to class,” she once again yelled at the kids. “All of you are officially tardy. Go.” She glared at the kids. “Now.” Tyra struggled against Mrs. Taylor’s grip. “Tyra, stop,” she said sternly. Tyra finally conceded, leaning against the lockers. Mrs. Taylor nodded to the math teacher. “OK, ladies, my office, now,” she nudged Tyra toward the office. Tyra reluctantly started walking. Mrs. Taylor turned to Lyla, “Lyla,” she began looking over the girl. “Are you OK?” She asked. Lyla looked past her to Tyra and nodded. “OK, then. Let’s go sort this out,” Mrs. Taylor said walking down the hall. She passed a gawking Tim Riggins. “Tim, you’re all ready late. Go to class.” Tim tried to get Lyla to look at him but gave off and started toward English.
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Coach Taylor was in the office, checking his mail. “Hey,” he said walking over to his stressed wife. She shot him a look and he went back to the lounge. Best not bother her now, he thought.
Tyra slumped into a chair outside the office. She’d made a mistake. A big one, she thought as she watched Mrs. Taylor and Lyla come in the door.
“Tyra, wait here,” Mrs. Taylor instructed. She bent down and inspected Tyra. She had a scratch but seemed otherwise unscathed. She ushered Lyla into the office, “take a seat.” Lyla sat down. Mrs. Taylor kneeled and looked her over as well. Lyla had the beginnings of a black eye. She moved the hair away from Lyla’s face. “Care to tell me what’s going on?” She asked, standing satisfied Lyla was banged but not beaten. Keeping her eyes on Lyla, Mrs. Taylor sat down.
That was a loaded question, Lyla surmised. She shook her head, toe nudging a piece of carpet. Lyla thought about it. She wasn’t even sure what had happened. She knew she had pushed Tyra, but why? “I pushed her and it didn’t go well after that,” she acknowledged quietly. Without moving her head, Tyra looked up at Mrs. Taylor. The counselor was looking at Lyla with a concerned look. Lyla bit her lip and sighed, “I’m sorry,” she began quietly. “I just uh,” she shook her head thinking before speaking. “I just made a mistake,” Lyla admitted weakly. She listened to Mrs. Taylor and looked out the window. Just what her mother needed, more trouble and stress. She nodded as Mrs. Taylor told her that the principal would call her mother. She repeated her apology and stood to let Mrs. Taylor and Tyra talk.
Tyra rubbed roughly at her face. She was mad at herself even more than Lyla. Yet, Lyla did push her first. Tyra shook her head. What was this, first grade. She looked up to see Landry walk into the office. He offered her a small smile. She didn’t return the friendly gesture. He walked over to her and held out her purse. She gave him a small smile. Sitting up straighter, she thanked him, “thanks.”
Landry nodded, “you’re welcome.” He sat in the chair beside her. He also had gathered up Lyla’s invitation, dismayed to not see his name printed on any of them. “Are you OK?”
Tyra nodded, “yeah.” She scoffed at the irony. Weeks before, the two of them had been together after another one of Tyra’s physical altercations. This one had ended better than that one, however. “Could you make sure to take good notes in history?” She asked.
Landry nodded, “yeah, I’ll take care of you, Tyra,” he said looking at her. He meant that in more ways than notes or school. His friends made fun of him for having a crush on her, but Matt understood. Even after the drama that unfolded after that game, he still cared for her. He stood up as the counseling door opened. “um, hey Mrs. Taylor he acknowledged. “Lyla,” he nodded his head, offering her envelopes.
“Thanks,” Lyla said taking the invitations. She looked sideways at Tyra who was refusing eye contact.
“Tyra,” Mrs. Taylor said. She noted when Tyra stood her squeezed Landry’s forearm. She then bumped into Lyla. Mrs. Taylor put her arms around Tyra to quell any ignition of further physical contact. She watched as Landry left the office and Lyla sat, waiting for her mom. Mrs. Taylor shut the door and watched Tyra for a moment before sitting across from her. She took a deep breath, “want to tell me your version?” She asked softly.
Tyra shifted in the seat. She looked to the window then back to Mrs. T. She was mad at herself but wasn’t going to let tough Tyra down. She shrugged, “I hit Lyla Garrity,” she said nonchalantly. Tyra chewed on the inside of her lip, looking past Mrs. Taylor instead of at her.
Mrs. Taylor raised her eyebrows as she watched Tyra. She needed to make a quick decision on how to handle this situation. Lyla was going to be the easier one, or so she thought. There was going to be a fine line to walk here. She knew both girls harbored a lot of pain. Maybe if they could begin to understand each other, the two could at least coexist, if not become friendly.
Tyra felt Mrs. T’s eyes on her. She pursed her lips and glared at the counselor, “what?”
Mrs. Taylor furrowed her eyebrows as Tyra once again broke eye contact. “OK, Tyra,” she began. “You can be angry and act out all you want, but in here we use words. Not sarcasm, not violence, but words,” she said simply.
Tyra scoffed at Mrs. Taylor’s words. She shrugged a bit then folded her arms. “So what’s my punishment?” She asked coolly.
“You’re not hearing me,” Mrs. Taylor said, leaning forward. “This façade, Tyra, it doesn’t work with me.” Tyra looked away, not before Mrs. Taylor caught a flash of pain cross her face. Softening her tone a bit Mrs. Taylor continued, “Tyra, what happened?”
Tyra sat silent for a while. She could play people. Wait them out for hours or flirt for a second to secure what she wanted or needed. Yet, she was sitting here across from someone who at least pretended to care about her. That was more she could say for most if not all the people in her life. She shook her head before taking a deep breath, “I hit her,” she allowed. “I probably said some stuff I shouldn’t of to her and she pushed me, then I hit her.” Tyra’s version of the events were as real as she remembered. She uncrossed her arms and shifted in the chair before glancing at Mrs. Taylor.
Mrs. Taylor nodded. She leaned back in the chair and let her breath out, “OK. Well, we’re going to have to call your mom to pick you up,” she began.
“Right,” Tyra interrupted. The edge to her voice was back. “Right MRs. T. I’m sure she’ll be right down to defend her priceless daughter from big, bad Lyla Garrity,” Tyra straightened up in her chair and laughed bitterly, “that’s almost as likely as me going home to a table full of food.” Tyra looked at Mrs. Taylor. Sometimes it was easier to lace words with sarcasm. The truth was a lot less ugly when she didn’t care.
Mrs. Taylor was the one to break eye contact this time. She felt a pang of pain in her heart. Gathering her thoughts Mrs. Taylor spoke carefully, “Tyra,” she said gently, “remember what I said about using words.” She studied the girl, “what are you telling me behind the sarcasm?” She asked.
Tyra clenched her jaw. She doubted the counselor was playing dumb or even playing but Tyra didn’t like to be patronized. She shook her head, ignoring the question. “Maybe we can make apple pie together and decorate those Christmas cookies we made yesterday after church.” She looked out the window, “then we can decorate the tree,” she smiled, “Daddy’ll be getting in from the oil rig and we always let him put the star on top.”
Mrs. Taylor shook her head, hearing the sadness behind Tyra’s story. She took a shakey breath, “honey-“ she started.
“No, Mrs. Taylor, it will be great,” Tyra said before looking at the ground. Her mom probably wouldn’t even be home. There’d be no cookies, no pie. Hell, they hadn’t had a tree in a long time. Before her Grandma died, Tyra remembered the carolers at the church bringing them a turkey and presents. That was a long time ago. Times had been different for a long time. Tyra blinked back the tears that were stinging her eyes.
Watching the girl Mrs. Taylor too had to blink threatening tears. She knew the story was just that. Standing, Mrs. Taylor sat in a chair beside Tyra. The girl stiffened. This wasn’t part of the protocol. She got in trouble, the school tried to call her mom, they finally gave up and she was sent home. Nothing in that meant sitting down and having an emotional conversation with the counselor. “Tyra,” Mrs. Taylor said softly. “I’m sorry.”
Tyra furrowed her eyebrows. No warnings of what she should or shouldn’t do? No scathing words at how wrong she was. She clenched her jaw, “don’t,” she almost pleaded looking straight ahead.
“This will sort itself out,” Mrs. Taylor tried to reassure. She put her hand on Tyra’s leg as a gesture of comfort. “Honey, pain will destroy you if you don’t let it out,” the words were steeped with more than just the fight. Mrs. Taylor reached up to move Tyra’s hair from her face, much like she’d done with Lyla. Once again she was reminded of the depth of pain both girls harbored.
Tyra shook her head and held her breath. A lone tear trickled down her cheek. She roughly swiped at her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she almost whispered.
Rubbing Tyra’s back, Mrs. Taylor just watched her for a moment. Nodding, “I know,” she said. She kneeled in front of Tyra, “honey, we talked about it before, but please hear me on this one,” she raised Tyra’s chin, “you have too much going for you to let a trauma destroy you.” She searched Tyra’s eyes, “baby not talking about what happened isn’t helping.” Mrs. Taylor pulled her chair to her and sat on the edge, “pain takes on a life of its own when you try to keep it silent. I’m sorry there’s nobody at home to listen to you or tuck you in at night, Tyra,” she shook her head, “but please, honey you have to start letting some of this stuff out. Hitting Lyla Garrity isn’t exactly dealing with the issue,” she said nudging Tyra.
Tyra listened to everything Mrs. Taylor said. She was right. Tyra leaned over and rested her head on Mrs. Taylor’s shoulder. When she concluded, a small smile pulled at Tyra’s lips, “it helped the problem, though,” she said weakly.
“Maybe,” Mrs. Taylor conceded, squeezing Tyra’s shoulder, “but, it created a whole other problem for you.” She looked sideways at the girl, “I don’t know though, maybe you’ll see this as an opportunity.”
“What do you mean?” Tyra looked up at her suspiciously.
“The football team will be happy to have you as an elf, passing out toys to the children on Christmas Eve,” Mrs. Taylor smiled. Tyra rolled her eyes, “you may need to practice those Christmas carols.” Mrs. Taylor’s phone beeped, “Mrs. Taylor, Mrs. Garrity is here to speak with you. Mrs. Collette was unavailable.” Tami nodded as Tyra sat up, “thank you Jess,” she picked up the phone and hung up.
Tyra smoothed her jeans, “well I guess I should just go home and think about things,” she said standing.
Mrs. Taylor smiled sweetly and guided her toward the door, “honey, didn’t you understand me. There are tons of toys that need to be sorted in the gym. Coach Taylor will be perfectly happy to supervise you today.” She laughed as Tyra groaned. Opening the door, she saw an upset Lyla and angry Mrs. Garrity. Glancing at Tyra, she decided to send Lyla as well. “Lyla, instead of going home, you and Tyra can separate the toys the football team collected,” she instructed folding her arms.
Lyla looked at her suspiciously, “together?”
“Why of course, honey. Why waste good talent? Coach Taylor will be in charge today,” Mrs. Taylor said. She eyed the principal who looked at her skeptically. “I think it will be good for you two.” The girls headed down the hall. “Mrs. Garrity, I’m sorry to have to call you. I’m sure Principal Jones filled you in?”
Mrs. Garrity nodded, “yes ma’am.” She shifted nervously. “Do you know why she did this?” She asked looking around the office.
Mrs Taylor gestured toward the open door. “Why don’t we talk about this in here,” she suggested.
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Christmas Eve…
“To think we’re passing out presents on the eve of Jesus’ birth,” Smash said shaking his head.
Tim rolled his eyes and put another huge box og toys on the truck, “give it a rest Williams,” he said. Tim opened the truck door and pulled out a Santa hat. He tossed it to Smash, “put this on and yell ho ho ho. I bet all the little kids will love you.”
“Ho, ho ho, huh?” Smash smirked. He let the words fall between them. Smash glanced around. Only girls there were Lyla, Tyra, Julie, Mrs. Taylor, and a few cheerleaders. Waverly told him she’d try to come but it didn’t look like that was happening.
“OK boys,” Coach called out. He too donned a Santa hat. Mrs. Taylor stood by his side with a clipboard. “Everyone gets a box of food. Then each box of presents has a name on it. We’ll start down on the east and end here at the school. Remember, this town helped us bring a championship home. Let’s make Christmas a bright one for them.”
The team and it’s elves caravanned all over town. Tyra and Lyla had seemingly reached an understanding and were even in the Christmas spirit. In Smash’s neighborhood, they had emptied Tim’s entire truck. Coach Taylor personally delivered state championship tee shirts to every child on the list.
When they pulled up to Tim’s neighborhood, Bo made sure to announce that Riggins was his big brother. It was a different side of Tim, one the Coach and rest of players rarely saw. Bo tore open one package before his mom could rescue the presents. He turned the new football over and over, looking at it with large eyes. “You better watch out Tim Riggins,” the boy spoke excitedly, “I’m gonna give you a run for your starting spot next year.” Throwing down the package, Bo charged at Tim who picked him up and flipped him over his shoulder. Bo squealed with laughter and Tim seemed to be pretty happy too.
Matt delivered envelopes that had calling cards to the other seven families from the community in his dad’s squad. They all wished him and the team a Merry Christmas, but behind the good cheer, Matt felt the sadness. He too smiled and returned the greeting, only to stuff his hands in his pockets and look at the ground. Being QB1 was nice but he’d give it all up to have his dad sitting at dinner with them.
Halfway through the day, Tami ducked out. She had a lot of food to prepare. Their small house was sure to be packed. Eric had invited the Riggins boys, she’d invited Tyra and of course Matt and Grandma would be joining them.
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Christmas Eve night, the Taylor’s sat waiting for candlelight service. They’d received visitors, handed out gifts, and been busy all day. Now, the three of them sat together, lights blinking on the tree, drinking egg nog. Tami sipped tea, afraid that raw egg would hurt the baby.
“Let’s open presents,” Julie suggested. She went into her room and brought out a few packages. She was going to wait until tomorrow to give Matt his gift.
Eric began to sort the stacks from beneath the Christmas tree. Julie had bought him a subscription to XM radio. This was usual, her third time giving him the present. He smiled and kissed her. Tami gave him a few shirts and pants. She had a picture of the state championship team framed for him. He unwrapped a smaller package and smiled holding up her first ultrasound. Eric looked hard at the picture, then at Tami, “I’m not seeing a quarterback here.”
Julie shook her head. Tami laughed, “open this one,” she handed Eric a box.
He unwrapped the present and pulled out a pink sleeper. Eric nodded and leaned down to Tami’s stomach, “well, I guess you fumbled that request,” he said with a smile. He kissed Tami and rubbed her stomach. “Eighteen more years,” he shook his head.
Tami unwrapped a few books and sweaters. Julie gave her a day at the spa and some pretty wine glasses. Julie then handed both her parents a larger box, “I made this. It needs some touch ups but you didn’t give me much time.” Eric unwrapped a beautiful quilt. “It’s yellow because I didn’t know what she’d be,” Julie shrugged. The squares held various pictures of the past year and the date Tami found out she was pregnant.
Tami hugged Julie,”it’s perfect.”
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With the promise of a crazy year, the Taylor’s put everything under the tree and got ready to go to church. The whole town crowded in the chapel. Tyra joined them and the Riggins, Street’s, Saracen’s, and even Garrity’s all joined in the celebration. As the church’s lights dimmed, Tami put her arm around Tyra’s shoulder, Eric bowed his head, thanking God for the great year he’d had, and Julie and Matt thumb wrestled.