jg.skippingchristmas-第4章

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　So　what；　Luther　had　replied　over　and　over。　Their　friends　and　neighbors　might　disapprove　at　first；　but　secretly　they　would　burn　with　envy。　Ten　days　in　the　Caribbean；　Nora；　he　kept　telling　her。　Their　friends　and　neighbors　won't　be　laughing　when　they're　shoveling　snow；　will　they？　No　jeers　from　the　spectators　when　we're　roasting　in　the　sun　and　they're　bloated　on　turkey　and　dressing。　No　smirks　when　we　return　thin　and　tanned　and　pletely　unafraid　of　going　to　the　mailbox。
　Nora　had　seldom　seen　him　so　determined。　He　methodically　killed　all　her　arguments；　one　by　one；　until　nothing　was　left　but　their　charitable　giving。
　〃You're　going　to　let　a　lousy　six　hundred　bucks　stand　between　us　and　a　Caribbean　cruise？〃　Luther　asked　with　great　sarcasm。
　〃No；　you　are；〃　she　replied　coolly。
　And　with　that　they　went　to　their　corners　and　tried　to　read。
　But　after　a　tense；　silent　hour；　Luther　kicked　off　the　sheets　and　yanked　off　the　wool　socks　and　said；　〃All　right。　Let's　match　last　year's　charitable　gifts；　but　not　a　penny　more。〃
　She　flung　her　paperback　and　went　for　his　neck。　They　embraced；　kissed；　then　she　reached　for　the　brochures。
　
　
　Three
　
　Though　it　was　Luther's　scheme；　Nora　was　the　first　to　be　tested。　The　call　came　on　Tuesday　morning；　from　a　pricklish　man　she　didn't　much　care　for。　His　name　was　Aubie；　and　he　owned　The　Pumpkin　Seed；　a　pompous　little　stationery　store　with　a　silly　name　and　absurd　prices。
　After　the　obligatory　greeting；　Aubie　came　right　to　the　point。　〃Just　a　bit　worried　about　your　Christmas　cards；　Mrs。　Krank；〃　he　said；　trying　to　seem　deeply　concerned。
　〃Why　are　you　worried？〃　Nora　asked。　She　did　not　like　being　hounded　by　a　crabby　shopkeeper　who　would　barely　speak　to　her　the　rest　of　the　year。
　〃Oh　well；　you　always　select　the　most　beautiful　cards；　Mrs。　Krank；　and　we　need　to　order　them　now。〃　He　was　bad　at　flattery。　Every　customer　got　the　same　line。
　According　to　Luther's　audit；　The　Pumpkin　Seed　had　collected　318　from　the　Kranks　last　Christmas　for　cards；　and　at　the　moment　it　did　seem　somewhat　extravagant。　Not　a　major　expense；　but　what　did　they　get　from　it？　Luther　flatly　refused　to　help　with　the　addressing　and　stamping；　and　he　flew　hot　every　time　she　asked　if　so…and…so　should　be　added　to　or　deleted　from　their　list。　He　also　refused　to　offer　so　much　as　a　glance　at　any　of　the　cards　they　received；　and　Nora　had　to　admit　to　herself　that　there　was　a　diminishing　joy　in　getting　them。
　So　she　stood　straight　and　said；　〃We're　not　ordering　cards　this　year。〃　She　could　almost　hear　Luther　applauding。
　〃Do　what？〃
　〃You　heard　me。〃
　〃May　I　ask　why　not？〃
　〃You　certainly　may　not。〃
　To　which　Aubie　had　no　response。　He　stuttered　something　then　hung　up；　and　for　a　moment　Nora　was　filled　with　pride。　She　wavered；　though；　as　she　thought　of　the　questions　that　would　be　raised。　Her　sister；　their　minister's　wife；　friends　on　the　literacy　board；　her　aunt　in　a　retirement　village…all　would　ask；　at　some　point；　what　happened　to　their　Christmas　cards。
　Lost　in　the　mail？　Ran　out　of　time？
　No。　She　would　tell　them　the　truth。　No　Christmas　for　us　this　year；　Blair's　gone　and　we're　taking　a　cruise。　And　if　you　missed　the　cards　that　much；　then　I'll　send　you　two　next　year。
　Rallying；　with　a　fresh　cup　of　coffee；　Nora　asked　herself　how　many　of　those　on　her　list　would　even　notice。　She　received　a　few　dozen　each　year；　a　dwindling　number；　she　admitted；　and　she　kept　no　log　of　who　bothered　and　who　didn't。　In　the　turmoil　of　Christmas；　who　really　had　time　to　fret　over　a　card　that　didn't　e？
　Which　brought　up　another　of　Luther's　favorite　holiday　gripes…the　emergency　stash。　Nora　kept　an　extra　supply　so　she　could　respond　immediately　to　an　unexpected　card。　Every　year　they　received　two　or　three　from　total　strangers　and　a　few　from　folks　who　hadn't　sent　them　before；　and　within　twenty…four　hours　she'd　dash　off　the　Kranks'　holiday　greetings　in　response；　always　with　her　standard　handwritten　note　of　good　cheer　and　peace　be　with　you。　
　Of　course　it　was　foolish。
　She　decided　that　she　wouldn't　miss　the　entire　ritual　of　Christmas　cards。　She　wouldn't　miss　the　tedium　of　writing　all　those　little　messages；　and　hand…addressing　a　hundred　or　so　envelopes；　and　stamping　them；　and　mailing　them；　and　worrying　about　who　she　forgot。　She　wouldn't　miss　the　bulk　they　added　to　the　daily　mail；　and　the　hastily　opened　envelopes；　and　the　standard　greetings　from　people　as　hurried　as　herself。
　Freed　of　Christmas　cards；　Nora　called　Luther　for　a　little　propping。　He　was　at　his　desk。　She　replayed　the　encounter　with　Aubie。　〃That　little　worm；〃　Luther　mumbled。　〃Congratulations；〃　he　said　when　she　finished。
　〃It　wasn't　hard　at　all；〃　she　gushed。
　〃Just　think　of　all　those　beaches；　dear；　just　waiting　down　there。〃
　〃What　have　you　eaten？〃　she　asked。
　〃Nothing。　I'm　still　at　three　hundred　calories。〃
　〃Me　too。〃
　When　she　hung　up；　Luther　returned　to　the　task　at　hand。　He　wasn't　crunching　numbers　or　grappling　with　IRS　regs；　as　usual；　but　instead　he　was　drafting　a　letter　to　his　colleagues。　His　first　Christmas　letter。　In　it；　he　was　carefully　and　artfully　explaining　to　the　office　why　he　would　not　be　participating　in　the　holiday　rituals；　and；　in　turn；　he　would　appreciate　it　if　everyone　else　just　left　him　alone。　He　would　buy　no　gifts　and　would　accept　none。　Thank　you　anyway。　He　would　not　attend　the　firm's　black…tie　Christmas　dinner；　nor　would　he　be　there　for　the　drunken　mess　they　called　the　office　party。　He　didn't　want　the　cognac　and　the　ham　that　certain　clients　gave　to　all　the　big　shots　each　year。　He　wasn't　angry　and　he　would　not　yell　〃Humbug！〃　at　anyone　who　offered　him　a　〃Merry　Christmas。〃
　He　was　simply　skipping　Christmas。　And　taking　a　cruise　instead。
　He　spent　most　of　the　quiet　morning　on　his　letter；　and　typed　it　himself。　He　would　place　a　copy　on　every　desk　at　Wiley　&　Beck。
　The　gravity　of　their　scheme　hit　hard　the　next　day；　just　after　dinner。　It　was　entirely　possible　to　enjoy　Christmas　without　cards；　without　parties　and　dinners；　without　needless　gifts；　without　a　lot　of　things　that　for　some　reason　had　been　piled　onto　the　birth　of　Christ。　But　how　could　anyone　get　through　the　holidays　without　a　tree？
　Skip　the　tree；　and　Luther　knew　they　just　might　pull　it　off。
　They　were　clearing　the　table；　though　there　was　precious　little　to　clear。　Baked　chicken　and　cottage　cheese　made　for　an　easy　cleanup；　and　Luther　was　still　hungry　when　the　doorbell　rang。
　〃I'll　get　it；〃　he　said。　Through　the　front　window　of　the　living　room　he　saw　the　trailer　out　in　the　street；　and　he　knew　instantly　that　the　next　fifteen　minutes　would　not　be　pleasant。　He　opened　the　door　and　was　met　with　three　smiling　faces…two　youngsters　dressed　smartly　in　full　Boy　Scout　regalia；　and　behind　them　Mr。　Scanlon；　the　neighborhood's　permanent　scoutmaster。　He　too　was　in　uniform。
　〃Good　evening；〃　Luther　said　to　the　kids。
　〃Hello；　Mr。　Krank。　I'm　Randy　Bogan；〃　said　the　taller　of　the　two。　〃We're　selling　Christmas　trees　again　this　year。〃
　〃Got　yours　out　on　the　trailer；〃　said　the　shorter　one。
　'You　had　a　Canadian　blue　spruce　last　year；　Mr。　Scan…Ion　said。
　Luther　glanced　beyond　them；　to　the　long　flatbed　trailer　covered　with　two　neat　rows　of　trees。　A　small　army　of　Scouts　was　busy　unloading　and　hauling　them　away　to　Luther's　neighbors。　
　〃How　much？〃　Luther　asked。
　〃Ninety　dollars；　answered　Randy。　〃We　had　to　go　up　a　little　'cause　our　supplier　went　up　too。〃
　Eighty　last　year；　Luther　almost　said　but　held　his　tongue。
　Nora　materialized　from　nowhere　and　suddenly　had　her　chin　on　his　shoulder。　〃They're　so　cute；〃　she　whispered。
　The　boys　or　the　trees？　Luther　almost　asked。　Why　couldn't　she　stay　in　the　kitchen　and　let　him　slug　his　way　through　this　one？
　With　a　big　fake　smile；　Luther　said；　〃Sorry；　but　we're　not　buying　one　this　year〃
　Blank　faces。　Puzzled　faces。　Sad　faces。　A　groan　from　just　over　his　shoulder　as　the　pain　hit　Nora。　Looking　at　the　boys；　with　his　wife　literally　breathing　down　his　neck；　Luther　Krank　knew　that　this　was　the　pivotal　moment。　Snap　here；　and　the　floodgates　would　open。　Buy　a　tree；　then　decorate　it；　then　realize　that　no　tree　looks　plete　without　a　pile　of　presents　stuffed　under　it。
　Hang　tough；　old　boy；　Luther　urged　himself；　just　as　his　wife　whispered；　〃Oh　dear。〃
　〃Hush；〃　he　hissed　from　the　corner　of　his　mouth。
　The