Saturday 15 Dec

As Bobbie was putting away the dishes the next morning, she got a couple of notifications from her Calendar App about Christmas parties. Bobbie laughed to herself and thought that she probably wouldn’t be welcome at the ComCan Christmas party this year. She studied the calendar thoughtfully. The hospital was having a celebration and Bobbie would have to ask Eddy if the kids were going. She and Mom could go to that. Florence had two other events; one was for the University and one was for the nonprofit (Planned Parenthood) where she was a board member.

It turned out Florence wanted to attend both. “I’m still emeritus at the University and I have to put in an appearance. And I should be seen at the nonprofit too. You can be my date.”

They went upstairs to see what she had to wear. “The university will be formal and so will the nonprofit,” said Florence. “The hospital is Christmas Eve day and the kids will be there to meet Santa so it will be more relaxed.”

Bobbie reached into her mom’s closet and picked out a full skirt. Her mother was quite petite, busty with a small waist too. She had fine features and was still very pretty even with a few age lines. The skirt was pleated at the waist and fell to the floor. It was made of pale silk that was hand painted by a local designer. “Have you warn this before?”, asked Bobbie.

“No, I mostly bought it to support the designer.”

Bobbie picked out a simple silk blouse and said, “This, tucked into that skirt, with a wide belt would be great.” She ran to her room and returned with a soft wide red leather belt and a delicate knitted lace shawl of the same colour. “This red goes really well, and I’ll get the ruby necklace set when the time comes. How about that for the charity?”

“I have a black skirt like that too.” said Florence, “I can wear something similar to that for the university party.”

“Ooh, very Oscar de la Renta,“ laughed Bobbie. “Have you got shoes?”

“I’ll wear boots and take some velvet slippers. I can’t wear high heels anymore.”

Florence looked like a china doll. Bobbie always felt like an awkward giant along side her.

Then they heard Johnny at the door downstairs, so Bobbie went down to greet him. “Hi Johnny, so have you got any ideas for a set list for this show.”

“I thought we could start with a few Christmas carols and then move on to a few more Christmas carols and then end on a high note and do more Christmas carols.”

Bobbie laughed “So you think we should sing a few Christmas carols?”

“Ha, that’s right. I did write down the order, to make the best rhythm for the show.”

Bobbie was looking over the list and nodding when Florence came downstairs holding a red mini dress trimmed with fake white fur and 2 Christmas hats. “Remember when you used to wear these, guys?”

“Oh God Mom, I’m sure I can’t fit into that dress anymore. If it does, I’ll need some leggings I can wear under it. It’s very short!”

“You should try it on, dear,” replied Florence.

She took it into the den and tried it on and it fit perfectly. She realized she was losing weight and sat on a couch. She needed to look after herself better. In the meantime she slipped up the stairs and put on her sparkly white leggings and came downstairs.

“Wow!”, said Johnny.

“Very festive dear,” said her mother.

So Bobbie and Johnny rehearsed their old Christmas set, which hadn’t really changed much in 30 years and headed out to their show.

The Show

They were playing in the pub at the the Yacht club. It had a speak-easy vibe and was little dark but their corner had a lot of Christmas lights and looked festive. The audience sat around low round tables that had little candle light centrepieces. She actually knew some of the people in the audience. Bobbie waved to Barb and Jeremy. Jeremy was having a good cancer day.

She sat at the table and said, “This is crazy. Johnny only told me about this yesterday.”

“It’s Christmas carols Bobbie, you know know them all anyway. I can’t believe you found that old dress!”

“Yes, that dress is something!” said Jeremy wiggling his eyebrows.

Barb gave him a fake slap and said, “It must be nice to wear clothes that fit you in high school.”

Bobby was still a little annoyed that Johnny sprung the show on her. It was probably a good thing that she hadn’t been given a lot of time to worry as they launched into their first number. They sang and joked and drank a bit of eggnog and apple cider and had a good night. After the show Bobbie was feeling quite close to Johnny and was feeling a little like maybe they would have a chance to be together after all these years. She was thinking maybe they go for a drink and talk about another show or something. She took her music and guitar into the back room to pack it up and saw Johnny and one of the waitresses from the club embracing. She was at least 20 years his junior and Bobbie remembered Johnny ALWAYS did this so what was she even thinking. This waitress was probably the reason Johnny roped her into doing the show with such short notice in the first place.

Bobbie composed herself and called out, “Well guys, I guess I’ll be heading out, it was a great show Johnny.” She grabbed her coat and guitar case and turned on her heel, cheeks blazing and tears forming.

Barb saw her distress and came over to her, thinking she was sad about selling the house and Alex and Christmas and everything and said, “We can drive you home Sweetie.” Bobbie nodded gratefully.

By the time they got to Bobbie’s mom’s place, she had calmed down and said thanks to Barb and Jeremy. Florence was in bed and Bobbie took her guitar back to the den and went up to her old room. She flopped down on the floor pillows, that she and Barb had sewn all those years ago and started to cry. She cried about selling the family home and the memories she had there of Alex and the boys growing up. She cried for her 17 year old self and her crush on that new Irish guy who played the guitar and was destined to be her best friend forever. She cried in embarrassment and shame for having those thoughts about Johnny when Alex had only been gone a couple months. She fell asleep sobbing.