All I Want for Christmas: Interlude in D
December 25, 2016
“So, what did you say?” Sheryl was refilling hot chocolate mugs in her new Christmas pajamas – kittens shooting laser guns, but that didn’t stop her from looking gorgeous doing it. Not that she was perfect. Without the makeup and lighting and on-call hair stylist, Darcy’s step mom didn’t have the gloss that the public was used to seeing in movies and on magazine covers. There were tiny, fine lines around her eyes and her impeccably dyed WidowRed hair was in a messy knot on top of her head. Darcy felt like the pjs really gave her an edgy look, though. She glanced down at her own matching flannel pants. Totally worth the overnight shipping.
“I called him a bag of dicks.”
Sheryl spluttered, dripping hot chocolate out around her startled grin. Darcy continued,
“And, I probably shouldn’t have said it, I know.” She glanced toward the swinging door that lead to the family room where low music and the murmurs of her parents were indistinct but comforting. “You absolutely cannot tell on me.”
“I can’t tell your dad and my wife that their only child called a three star general – who has publicly hunted down American heroes – a bag of dicks? To his face?” Sheryl deadpanned, “I can’t imagine why they would be upset.”
Darcy pulled off her new hat, fake blue suede with a downy wool interior and ear flaps, fluffed her hair, and then set the present from her dad on the counter. “The thing is,” she continued as if Sheryl hadn’t spoken, “I think maybe I didn’t really get my point across?”
“I’m not sure there is more than one way to interpret that statement.”
“What I really meant was that he is a bag of flaccid dicks. Like, not even useful dicks.” Darcy had trouble holding in her smile while Sheryl laughed. Now that the pardon of the Avengers had been made public, it felt good to be able to share some things about her job with her family. Some things. And mostly just Sheryl. She told her dad stories like Tony trying to buy her gold paperclips and ‘gosh, traffic can be a bear’ and they both gamely pretended that she wasn’t cherry picking anecdotes for his sanity. She told her mom about Friday. Sheryl, on the other hand, was down for gossip without judgment.
Without too much judgment.
Darcy waved one hand in the air. “And I feel that’s how he got promoted? Somebody was handed this bag of flaccid dicks and was all like, ‘uh, I don’t want this’ and just handed them off again to the first person who was too dumb to ask what was in there? And now, that guy is like, ‘what the fuck? Where did all these flaccid dicks come from? I gots to get rid of this shit.’ So here we are today, politicians and the Pentagon, and probably Ross’ wife – poor woman, are all trying to pass around this bag of dicks and hoping nobody figures out what they’re getting – but nobody really does anything with it.”
Sheryl was snorting, her face bright red, bent over the kitchen counter and in dangerous proximity to the simmering pot of hot chocolate.
“What do you…what do you-” her own strangled giggles interrupted her.
“I know. What do you do? Chuck it in the ocean? That seems like a punishment to fish, and like, surfers who might see it. I’d say space, but apparently there is a lot going on up there, and those people don’t need the complication.” Darcy sighed. “My life is full of the big philosophical questions.”
Amy Lewis-Fate, in matching kitty laser pajamas including a shirt that was impossibly stretched across her chest reading ‘pew, pew’ leaned in through the door. “What’s going on in here?”
“Nothing mom,” Darcy answered with as straight a face as she could manage. It wasn’t very straight. “Do you and Dad want candy canes in yours?”
Amy narrowed her eyes at Sheryl, who was collapsed against the counter, wheezing. “What’s wrong with her?”
Darcy frowned and tried to look innocent. “I guess she can’t handle dicks?”
That sent Sheryl into another peal of laughter and she slid to the floor, back against the cabinets, tears streaming down her face.
Amy rolled her eyes. “We’re lesbians, not nuns, Darcy. I’m certain Sher could figure it out.” Darcy went to her knees next to Sheryl, laughing just as hard. “Honestly,” Amy continued, moving forward to finish the hot chocolate, “I can’t take you two anywhere.”
Best Christmas ever.