Chapter 27
Jake
All right, all right. I let off the gas a little on my brother and his partner in crime, Spencer. Collin and I gave them enough time to freshen up and prepare for the newest round of Christmas madness—the Live Nativity scene, starring all of us.
“Where are the kids?” Avery asked us, even though we men weren’t supposed to speak about anything unrelated to the Nativity.
I glanced at her where she stood in observance, bundled warmly in layers of scarves and a big, puffy coat.
“The Christ-child which you seek has been born,” Collin declared as if he’d memorized the Nativity script for a play.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” my lovely and adorable wife said as she stood next to Avery and took in the visual of us dressed as the Three Wise Men and shepherds. “Where’s Mary and the baby, though?” Ash questioned, looking around.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought this part entirely through when planning to torture my brother by making him part of a live Nativity set.
When Jim asked why we didn’t have Mary or a baby in the manger, I couldn’t understand his smug look when I said it would be fine without them.
I knew I was doing this for all the wrong reasons, but I was banking on it turning out right in the end.
Regrettably, it seemed like the first visitors to our scene had noticed the plot hole I’d hoped would be overlooked, but what was I supposed to do, pull one of our wives up here to stand quietly as Mary and then recruit a baby?
In this weather? I’d take my chances on screwing up the Nativity story over screwing with the wives.
Rules to follow, remember?
“Away in a manger…” Collin and I began responding in song.
That was another rule. If anyone questioned our Nativity story, our responses could only be returned by singing Christmas carols.
“Dad?” Addy questioned Jim, who was standing with his fake beard and wearing the purple robes of the Magi. “Who are you supposed to be?”
Jim remained solemn and as still as an authentic Nativity scene statue would.
“Answer your kid,” Collin said, the second Magi in this scene, kneeling where Jim stood at his side. “In song, of course.”
“No,” Jim muttered back to him.
“You blow this and—”
“And what?” Spencer, the third costumed Magi, spoke.
“You’ll ruin everything for our lovely wives,” I said, proudly wearing the robes I imagined Joseph wore back in the day.
“I highly doubt that,” Jim said.
“I think they’re supposed to sing the answers,” my sharp-as-a-tack wife said, catching on quickly.
“Ah, that makes sense. I just thought Collin and Jake were singing because they love to jump at the opportunity whenever it arises,” Laney said, chuckling and playing along.
“That makes a lot of sense,” Nat chimed in on cue. “So, that means Jim’s got to answer Addy with a song like Collin and Jake did?”
“It’s an interactive singing nativity,” Avery said, chuckling and looking at Addy. “So, your dad’s got to sing his answers to you.”
I was doing everything I could to not laugh at this moment, which was working out so much more splendidly than I’d hoped to accomplish.
When the ladies and the kids gained a vibrant sense of excitement for our nifty little Christmas play, the crowds gathered around.
People looked inquisitively at us, speaking to each other in their native languages, primarily German, French, and Italian, with a sprinkling of British English here and there.
“Is it a musical?” an older woman with a thick German accent asked, realizing we had been speaking English and joining in.
“It’s a nativity. I see that,” her friend added. “But where’s Mary and the baby?”
“Away in the manger…” I rang out with all my holiday cheer.
“But you’re in a manger?” the first lady questioned while our wives and kids giggled.
“No crib for a bed…” Collin managed in his deepest baritone.
“Nice job, man,” I complimented him.
“Well, this is adorable,” a new visitor with a British accent said, walking up and smiling at the confusing scene where we sang interactively to our audience.
“What’s cute is I think they’ve intentionally left out characters from the story in the hopes they would be questioned so they could sing back their answers.”
“Wunderbar!” another lady said, looking like she’d dressed in a Christmas sweater she’d crafted from her crocheting skills. “I see Joseph,” she smiled and pointed at me. “Now, how are those guys called again?” she pointed toward our three Magi men.
Collin stood from where he was kneeling and walked to stand in between Spence and Jim.
“Together,” Collin rang out in song, “We Three Kings of—” He paused and looked at Jim and Spence, who stood there looking like a couple of Grinches who stole this Christmas scene away from the crowd that was drawing in to be entertained by all of us.
“He’s got a beautiful voice, Helga,” our first visitor stated. “I don’t understand why the other two won’t sing.”
“Maybe because they’re afraid to?” Bless my wife for adding fuel to this fire.
“Oh, probably,” Helga’s friend answered Ash.
“My dad has a great voice,” Addy said, the only child in tow because Carmen and Mark had taken the younger ones back home after the sun set and it got even more frigid. “Sing, Dad.”
I couldn’t resist looking at my brother, who was threatening to ruin all of this for his darling Addy because he was being a stubborn dickhead right now.
“Sing, asshole,” I heard Collin whisper.
“Jim!” Avery snapped. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Mon Dieu!” a woman behind Helga gasped, appalled by Avery’s language at the foot of a Nativity scene.
“Oh my,” another said. Now, Avery looked terrible because of her husband’s stubbornness.
“I don’t know where we are in the song,” Jim grumbled too loud.
“Dad’s going to ruin it,” Addy said, looking at Avery in typical teenage-girl annoyance. “He’s talking and not singing. I don’t think he studied his parts.”
“Me either,” Avery said like Jim had had weeks to rehearse this Christmas family tradition, and he’d let the entire family down.
“Star of Wonder, Star of Night…”
“Is he drunk?” a random person questioned with a laugh.
Addy looked at Jim as if she half-believed the man’s humored question, and I was doing everything I could not to laugh out loud.
As much as I enjoyed Jim’s discomfort, the one thing I didn’t want to do was mock Christmas traditions for anyone, especially when I was unsure how seriously people took their nativity scenes on this side of the world.
Jim’s irritation with me and everything he was exposed to was about to derail the whole thing, so it was time I saved him and saved Christmas and turned this all around.
I stood up and eyed Collin, giving him a look to let him know we had to bail the big guys out.
So, that’s when we took it from the top as if it’d all been planned this way.
We sang We Three Kings of Orient Are, and I encouraged everyone who was confused and humored by our live Nativity to join in, and that’s when the Christmas cheer kicked into high gear.
Everything had turned out for the best, and this was just the beginning.
We still had planned legit caroling through the picturesque villages and down through this marketplace like characters out of Charles Dickens’s Scrooge, followed by baking Christmas cookies with all the kids.
Then, once we arrived at Christmas Eve, we’d follow the Swiss tradition of getting our tree at a local farmer’s land—picked out by John, of course—and by the time Christmas morning rolled around, I suspected that our retaliation for the meditation chaos would be complete.
After the way tonight had worked out, we were practically there already.
The only problem left to solve was Spencer, who seemed utterly unscathed by all of this.
I suppose that meant he’d have to be the one to help John cut down the tree with a handsaw, which would be no easy task, given the size of the tree we’d need to fill the living room.
We were still a few days from crossing that bridge, so I hoped Spence would break for his benefit; however, at this rate, it seemed unlikely. Time would tell.