“Donna Hanson was beyond disappointed.
“I understand,” she told her daughter Trina over the phone. “These COVID travel rules keep changing. Of course you can’t risk having to quarantine.”
Trina and her husband Tom had taken job transfers from North Carolina to Germany last year, both working for ag chemical companies. Between the move, and COVID, this Christmas would mark three years since Donna had seen her daughter.
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“We’ll use FaceTime again,” Donna said.
“It worked last year,” Trina said.
As Donna remembered it, last year the internet connection had cut out several times, interrupting the Christmas call just when Trina and Tom were telling the family about their move to Europe. But there was no use complaining. Donna and Dale weren’t quite brave enough to risk flying all the way to Germany until the COVID situation was more settled.
Donna went back to the book she’d been reading. Meanwhile, across the farmyard, Donna’s son Jeff and his wife were figuring out how to keep a secret.
Trina had phoned Jeff a few days earlier with the news. She and Tom had tickets to fly to Saskatchewan for Christmas for a week.
“Your office isn’t making you quarantine when you get back?” Jeff asked.
“I’ve been away from the farm so long, this is an essential trip!” Trina said.
Jeff would pick up Trina and Tom at the airport on Christmas Eve.
“Don’t tell Mom and Dad,” Trina ordered. “I want to surprise them.”
“I know,” Jeff said.
“Don’t even hint,” Trina said. “I remember how you used to keep secrets.”
“I’m grown up now,” Jeff said. “It’ll be fine.”
Jeff did his best, but it wasn’t great. On Tuesday he asked his mother if she’d be cooking turnips for Christmas dinner.
“What?” Donna asked. “You hate turnips. Elaine doesn’t like them. Your kids don’t eat them. Last Easter Jenny spit her turnips all over the table and you laughed.”
“I was just wondering,” Jeff said. “Curious.”
“Right,” Donna said.
“So?” Jeff said. “Will there be turnips?”
“I suppose,” Donna said. Then she remembered that turnips were Trina’s favourite Christmas side dish and just like that, Jeff’s secret was out.
But Donna wasn’t going to let him know. “If I cook turnips, do you promise to eat them?”
“Of course,” Jeff nodded, regretting this tactic.
The next day, when Donna was out walking in the yard, she saw Jeff moving an auger by a bin so a trucker could get at the canola. She walked over.
“Do you have anything you want to mail to Trina and Tom?” she baited him.
“Now?” Jeff said. “It’s December already. It’ll never get there on time.”
“I’ve got a few things to courier. It’s expensive, but I keep imagining the two of them spending the holidays alone.”
Jeff thought quickly. “I’m going to town tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll send it.”
“Don’t worry,” Donna said. “I’ll take it today.” Then she walked off, grinning to herself and imagining Jeff being irked by the wasted courier fee.
By Christmas Eve, Trina still hadn’t arrived and Donna was wondering if she’d misunderstood. She cornered Jeff as he filled his truck with diesel.
“What are you up to?” she asked.
“I’m going to the city,” Jeff said. “After lunch.”
“Are you taking Elaine and the kids?” Donna asked.
“No, just me,” Jeff said. Donna wanted to jump up and down. Trina and Tom’s flight must be coming in today. But she played along
“Buying last-minute gifts?” Donna asked.
Jeff got on board with this. “That’s right. For Elaine. And the kids.”
“It’ll be crowded,” Donna said.
“Yeah,” Jeff said.
Donna knew there was no way Jeff would shop in a Christmas Eve crowd, even if he had to give everyone handwritten IOUs as gifts.
“What time do you think you’ll be home,” Donna asked.
“Late,” Jeff said. “Not until sometime after 9.”
“We’ll be up,” Donna said, hoping Trina and Tom would come by as soon as they got to the farm.
“Okay,” Jeff said. With the tank full, Jeff hung the fuel nozzle back in its holder and turned off the pump.
“This is going to be a great Christmas,” Donna said, while Jeff got into the truck.
“Sure is!” Jeff agreed. Then he remembered himself. “Your Christmas dinner is always so great,” Jeff said. “The kids are excited about that.”
That afternoon Donna finished the baking. Apple pie was Tom’s favourite, Trina liked pumpkin, and Donna’s husband Dale loved raisin. Donna had dough laid out on the counters and was slicing apples into a bowl when Jeff knocked on the door and let himself in.
“Mom?” he called.
“In here,” she said.
She handed him an apple slice coated with sugar and cinnamon when he stepped into the kitchen.
“I thought you were going to the city?” she said.
Then she saw the look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“I had a surprise for you …” he started.
“I didn’t know. I swear,” she said.
“Trina and Tom wanted to surprise you,” he said.
“Oh?” Donna pretended.
“But Trina just called. Their flight was cancelled. They can’t get another one this week, and they have meetings after the holiday. Now they can’t come at all.”
Donna’s heart sank. She picked up a sugared apple slice for herself.
“I was looking forward to seeing them,” she said.
“Hang on, how did you know?” Jeff asked.
So once again, just like 2020, Elaine set her iPad on the Hansons’ table and the family connected with Trina and Tom over FaceTime while they ate Christmas dinner.
“I’m so sorry Mom!” Trina said. “We really wanted to be there.”
“I know,” Donna said.
“Look at this,” Jeff said, holding the iPad up so Trina could see the turnips.
“I wish I could eat them,” Trina said. “Or at least smell them.”
“The smell’s the worst part,” said seven-year-old Jenny.
Donna rolled her eyes.
“But we still have a surprise,” Trina said.
“A trip home in February?” Dale guessed.
“Maybe,” Trina said. “But there’s something else.”
Donna took a deep breath and widened her eyes.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Dale whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Mom’s right,” Trina said. “We’re having a baby!”
“When?” Elaine asked.
“June!”
“We’re getting a cousin?” asked 11-year-old Connor.
“Yes!” Tom said.
“I’d like it to be a girl,” Jenny said.
“You don’t get to pick,” Connor said. “That’s Trina’s choice.”
“Don’t I get a say?” Tom asked.
“I guess the two of you have to decide,” Connor said, looking doubtful. “Maybe you could flip a coin. Or do rock, paper scissors.”
“Or arm wrestling,” Tom nodded at his nephew.
“Yeah,” Connor said.
With three pies spread between six people, there was no way the Hansons were going to get close to finishing.
“I’m not sure if eight people could finish three pies either,” Connor said. He’d been learning fractions at school before the Christmas break and was quite keen on the subject.
“When we get a new cousin we’ll be able to finish them all,” Jenny said.
“Not at first,” Connor said.
“She’ll grow up,” Jenny said. She was so surprisingly confident, Connor left the topic alone.
“Next year we’ll all have Christmas together,” Donna said.
