SideShowFreak
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 28, 2011
- Posts
- 267
CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT
The back roads of Connecticut had been plowed, but were difficult for a Floridian to navigate. Dean drove his little Japanese rental carefully, unsure on the icy roads. For the hundredth time that day, he tried to remember why he was here again, ready to brave another Christmas Eve with the Abbott clan. It was not for Aunt Ruth's bourbon inspired Christmas inspired sermons, as she serve her infamous Christmas fruit cakes for dessert. It was not for flatulent Uncle Kent, vapid Cousin Anne or for time with the multiple brats popped out by his extended family. In the end it was for his mother. She had loved these times, when the whole family was together. Though she had died of cancer six years ago, he felt her gentle, loving presence at these gatherings. It did not matter what loser girlfriends or boyfriends his cousins brought. It did not matter who had been cheating, or who boasted about the achievements adult children who rarely called or visited. All that mattered is that Mom would have wanted him here, right now.
Dean's strawberry blond hair had grown a big shaggy, with curls of hair moving around his ears. His blue eyes looked tired behind his wired rimmed glasses and his leather gloved clad hands gripped the steering wheel nervously. Despite the heat blasting from the heaters, his lean tropical frame was hidden in a big puffy coat. A leather Russian winter hat, with flaps, sat firmly on his head. His short, trim beard need to be combed and his feet were freezing, despite two pairs of socks.
In the back seat were two large bags of presents, purchased at the last minute, for horrible marked up prices, at the airport. In the trunks were two over stuffed suitcases and a garment bag with his Christmas suit. He would have been happy wearing jeans and a sweater to Christmas dinner, but he knew how his mother would have reacted to that. For her, he had brought his one and only suit.
Rounding the last bend, a large Victorian inn came into view. It had a wrap around porch and a ballroom off to one side. With the snow falling and the red ribbons on the windows, it looked like a Currier and Ives print. The inn had been in the family for years. Tonight was Christmas Eve. The entire clan would be there, as well as some 40 paying guests. There would be a show with dances and a big band, just like in an old movie Holiday Inn. It might have sounded like Heaven to some, but Dean knew that for him, it would be a temporal Hell, softened only by spiked punch.
When Dean was a child, during the cold week after Christmas, his family would back into the car and head for the airport. Despite often having delays, they would eventually fly out and head down to Orlando. Grandma Abbott had lived in a trailer park, where everyone rode around on giant tricycles and a young boy could enjoy the warm sun and all the interesting insect life. Dean had never liked the cold and the snow, like his brothers and parents did. He had dreamt, during those post Yule weeks, of one day moving to Florida and living in a trailer park with his grandmother.
Twenty years later, and he had his dream, even if Grandma had gone to Heaven. He just out of college, he had made some money buying and selling properties, and was able to buy a trailer park. He moved down and took over running the park himself. His friends and family could never understand why someone who was headed toward making millions would give it up for 50 trailer lots in the path of possible natural disasters. He had not been able to explain it to them either, but it had felt right.
Since he took over the management of the park, he had been happy. His friends were all old and retired. They would stop around for ice tea, a game or cards or to discuss the weather (which was usually good). They were a relaxed bunch, looking to enjoy their later years, and Dean felt at home with them, even if he was a third of the age of most.
Here he was though, about to re-enter the bosom of his family. He pulled his car into an available parking spot and stared at the inn. "It's going to be O.K." he whispered to himself. "You only have to stay for two nights, and it's back to the good life." With a sigh, he turned off the ignition.
OOC: This is an open Holiday thread, set in an old fashioned Inn, on Christmas Eve, in Connecticut. You can be a member of the Abbot clan, a guest, and employee or a show girl or band member. Anyone can jump right in! This is not so much a "hook up" thread, as it is about family drama, a soap opera and maybe a bit of Frank Capra feel good too. (I am aware that I spelled Connecticut wrong in the title... I wish I could change it, but oh well.)
The back roads of Connecticut had been plowed, but were difficult for a Floridian to navigate. Dean drove his little Japanese rental carefully, unsure on the icy roads. For the hundredth time that day, he tried to remember why he was here again, ready to brave another Christmas Eve with the Abbott clan. It was not for Aunt Ruth's bourbon inspired Christmas inspired sermons, as she serve her infamous Christmas fruit cakes for dessert. It was not for flatulent Uncle Kent, vapid Cousin Anne or for time with the multiple brats popped out by his extended family. In the end it was for his mother. She had loved these times, when the whole family was together. Though she had died of cancer six years ago, he felt her gentle, loving presence at these gatherings. It did not matter what loser girlfriends or boyfriends his cousins brought. It did not matter who had been cheating, or who boasted about the achievements adult children who rarely called or visited. All that mattered is that Mom would have wanted him here, right now.
Dean's strawberry blond hair had grown a big shaggy, with curls of hair moving around his ears. His blue eyes looked tired behind his wired rimmed glasses and his leather gloved clad hands gripped the steering wheel nervously. Despite the heat blasting from the heaters, his lean tropical frame was hidden in a big puffy coat. A leather Russian winter hat, with flaps, sat firmly on his head. His short, trim beard need to be combed and his feet were freezing, despite two pairs of socks.
In the back seat were two large bags of presents, purchased at the last minute, for horrible marked up prices, at the airport. In the trunks were two over stuffed suitcases and a garment bag with his Christmas suit. He would have been happy wearing jeans and a sweater to Christmas dinner, but he knew how his mother would have reacted to that. For her, he had brought his one and only suit.
Rounding the last bend, a large Victorian inn came into view. It had a wrap around porch and a ballroom off to one side. With the snow falling and the red ribbons on the windows, it looked like a Currier and Ives print. The inn had been in the family for years. Tonight was Christmas Eve. The entire clan would be there, as well as some 40 paying guests. There would be a show with dances and a big band, just like in an old movie Holiday Inn. It might have sounded like Heaven to some, but Dean knew that for him, it would be a temporal Hell, softened only by spiked punch.
When Dean was a child, during the cold week after Christmas, his family would back into the car and head for the airport. Despite often having delays, they would eventually fly out and head down to Orlando. Grandma Abbott had lived in a trailer park, where everyone rode around on giant tricycles and a young boy could enjoy the warm sun and all the interesting insect life. Dean had never liked the cold and the snow, like his brothers and parents did. He had dreamt, during those post Yule weeks, of one day moving to Florida and living in a trailer park with his grandmother.
Twenty years later, and he had his dream, even if Grandma had gone to Heaven. He just out of college, he had made some money buying and selling properties, and was able to buy a trailer park. He moved down and took over running the park himself. His friends and family could never understand why someone who was headed toward making millions would give it up for 50 trailer lots in the path of possible natural disasters. He had not been able to explain it to them either, but it had felt right.
Since he took over the management of the park, he had been happy. His friends were all old and retired. They would stop around for ice tea, a game or cards or to discuss the weather (which was usually good). They were a relaxed bunch, looking to enjoy their later years, and Dean felt at home with them, even if he was a third of the age of most.
Here he was though, about to re-enter the bosom of his family. He pulled his car into an available parking spot and stared at the inn. "It's going to be O.K." he whispered to himself. "You only have to stay for two nights, and it's back to the good life." With a sigh, he turned off the ignition.
OOC: This is an open Holiday thread, set in an old fashioned Inn, on Christmas Eve, in Connecticut. You can be a member of the Abbot clan, a guest, and employee or a show girl or band member. Anyone can jump right in! This is not so much a "hook up" thread, as it is about family drama, a soap opera and maybe a bit of Frank Capra feel good too. (I am aware that I spelled Connecticut wrong in the title... I wish I could change it, but oh well.)
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