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There are many gifts one can receive at the holiday season. Some are material, the wished-for proof of thought and consideration from one’s parent or partner. Those in the Lothlorien tax bracket prefer the experiential, the trip to Bali or the exclusive behind-the-scenes tour, though these too can be purchased from exclusive websites or concierges available to those with the means to access them. All of these are attempts to manufacture the oft-promised, seldom-realized happiness and warmth of the season. Most precious then are the gifts that provide this: those of time and love and care. So it is with these we will concern ourselves.
It is two days before Christmas, a day that often serves as the last chance for obtaining provisions before hunkering down in one’s home and enjoying the fruits of the season, whatever these be. A little group has just decamped in Elrond’s apartment. Elrond is breathing a sigh of relief to be back safely somewhere where he doesn’t have to herd three people (and Cel) through subway turnstiles and crowds of tourists. They have looked at elaborately decorated windows, Christmas lights, and a giant Christmas tree. It's only half of what he planned for them today, but Elrond is quite good at reading the room and his brother’s moods, so they have made a strategic retreat back to home base.
With Elrond is Celebrían, a lovely blonde women in her early 30s wearing an expensive but simple Christmas sweater that she hopes communicates a certain down-to-earthness. She is trying to make a good impression, which for the moment means pretending that a snack will fix a crying child, communicate that she’s a good partner to Elrond, and improve the general mood.
The other three are a family of country mice who arrived in Large Eastern City two days ago after a long car ride and two flights. One of them (Elros, we will call him, for that is his name) is like enough to Elrond in his long dark hair and slim height to be his twin. And so he is; the two brothers are separated much of the year by nearly half a continent but after several phone calls and some negotiation regarding plane tickets, after which Elros reluctantly allowed his brother to pay half, they are here. Because Elrond has no guest room and Elros will not allow him to pay the cost of a nearby hotel, the three are staying in Elrond’s room and Elrond is sleeping on the couch.
With Elros is his wife Rune, a woman whose strong arms come from lifting bales of hay for horses, not (as Cel’s do) from hours spent in plank position. She has been described by others as both beautiful and striking. Rune is also two months pregnant, a fact that came to light last night when she declined Elrond’s offer of wine and he made eye contact with Elros for about 5 seconds after which he pulled his brother into a tight hug and Rune, irritated, said “Hug me, Elrond. I’m the one who’s going to be carrying this child for the next 7 months.” She has brought only black clothing, having been told by several people that this is the best way to fit in. Despite this she feels awkward and uncertain in this place. She is never uncertain at home. Her other name, the one that she uses for tribal occasions, is in fact translatable to one who is wise. It was perhaps not wise to come on this trip when they could be home, enjoying quiet and her family’s company, but she can’t bring herself to deny Elros an opportunity to see his brother. She can’t deny him anything, hasn’t been able to since he walked into the big box store where she was working and asked her where the toilet paper was. He buys her toilet paper every anniversary to commemorate the moment.
Right now Rune is wrestling with a winter jacket. This belongs to her and Elros’s son Nolen, a boy of four whose eyes have been wide all day with the lights and the crowds and who is now howling with a combination of what his mother assumes to be overstimulation and exhaustion. Assumes that is, until she hears a particular note in his whining, puts a hand to his head, and finds it hot.
“El,” she calls and two identical dark heads look up from the phone they’re studying. “I think he’s warm.”
“Probably the fact that he’s bundled up,” says Elros with the unconcerned air of a family doctor who has reassured many a new mother on the phone. “Let’s give it a minute.”
So they do, and Cel’s offer of a cheese plate is at least somewhat helpful, not least because she’s supplemented the usual aged gouda and camembert and fig jam and water crackers with a block of cheddar and Ritz crackers. This she announces as being for Nolen (so as not to offend) but she also intends it for any parents who might have a less adventurous palate. Elrond puts an arm around her and gives her a kiss on the cheek and Elros teases them to get a room but gives Cel the first smile she’s had from him. It is a gift to get a smile from your boyfriend’s brother when he is the only real family available to please, a parent/sibling in one.
When this trip was planned, Elrond had asked each member of the Peredhel family to tell him something they would like to see in the City. Rune’s choice, live music, is supposed to happen tonight. A babysitter has been obtained; she is the highly recommended nanny of a friend and will come to Elrond’s to watch Nolen for a few hours so that the grown-ups can hear Handel’s Messiah performed at Symphony Hall and then have drinks (fancy hot chocolate maybe for Rune, thinks Elrond, revising their plans). Nolen is quiet now, but he’s clinging to his mom and when Elros feels his forehead he sighs and asks Elrond quietly if he has a thermometer. Elrond does, of course, and they determine that that he’s got a very respectable fever of 102 degrees Fahrenheit. Rune nods, hands Nolen to Elros, and ducks out to have a little cry in the bathroom. She was very much looking forward to the evening and while she’s used to derailed plans, she needs a minute.
A babysitter is out of the question now, but the remaining three adults have a quick huddle. Elrond immediately offers to watch Nolen and just as quickly Cel offers to keep him company. They’ll release two of the tickets and some college kids or tourists can take them. The grown-ups feel fine, and Elros and Rune can wear masks just in case—Elrond has plenty. Elros is uncertain but he hates to deny Rune an evening out. He hasn’t been able to deny her anything since he came into that store in search of supplies for the clinic and asked her directions to the toilet paper just for an excuse to speak to her. She caught him on the way out and asked him why he needed so much. He told her what he was buying for, knowing how it sounded (so noble she’d later said, rolling her eyes), and she gave him an appraising look that included his ringless finger. “Maybe that’s true,” she’d said with a smile, “Or maybe you’re just full of shit.”
Nolen seems alert enough despite the fever, and Elros would be hard pressed to think of anyone he’d trust more to watch him than his brother. So he hands Nolen to the man his kid calls ‘Uncle Daddy’ and goes off to talk to Rune while Cel makes a shopping list for the market downstairs: popsicles and soup and children’s Tylenol.
Elrond’s unprecedented request for 8 days off from work was met with some surprise, but he’s done more than his share of holiday coverage in the past, and it’s been arranged. Dr. Nowë, not yet retired as Chief of Surgery, has been covering the first few days. There are no elective surgeries scheduled this week, but there are still emergencies, and after 72 hours on call, he’s just come out of one with Elrond’s fellow. They’ve left the resident to close and Lindir is nervously peering into the OR and frowning at all the little corrections he’ll need to tell her later. He would have stayed, hovering, but Dr. Nowë had said loudly that he was sure that she could handle it as she’d “so admirably handled that bleed,” and Lindir had had no choice but to follow him out.
After nervously babbling a string of praise for the elder surgeon’s technique, Lindir falls silent. He’s done at work now but he finds himself reluctant to leave. There’s something depressing about how dark it is outside though it’s only 5:15. His apartment is going to feel empty when he’s sitting there with the TV turned up trying to pretend he can’t hear the crowd at the neighbors’ holiday party, a party that will take place this evening (according to the invite he saw in a neighbor’s mailbox). They’re a young couple, about his age. He’s always tried to be friendly when he’s seen them in passing and yet they’ve never invited him.
No one has any idea what the Chief of Surgery does when he’s not at the hospital, but rumor has it that he lives out on the Island, right on the water. He is also said to be a surfer. This information comes courtesy of a surgical resident who was there when Dr Nowë got called in after a train derailment.
“He walked into the locker room wearing some kind of wetsuit, like he was Jacques Fucking Cousteau. And Lindir, he pulled the thing off, and he was COMPLETELY naked under there. He just stands there and says (here the resident did a passable imitation of Dr Nowë’s vaguely Scandi accent), ‘Someone make yourself useful and get me some scrubs.’ I swear to god his hair was still wet when he scrubbed in.”
When Lindir asks Dr Nowë, “Any plans for the evening?” It’s more a way to fill space than a question he expects to be answered, so it’s a surprise when Dr Nowë does in some detail.
“Big plans, Lindir. I’m going to light a fire, open a nice bottle of wine, maybe take a toke or two on my deck, and then I will be ordering Chinese food. Enough that they’ll probably give me extra chopsticks.”
Lindir sits with the image for a moment (noting in passing the absence of any companion) and the thought of Dr. Nowë sipping wine by the fire is so diverting that he’s startled when the older man speaks.
“And yourself?”
After three years of holidays away from his family back in London, Lindir has a practiced answer for this. “Just a quiet evening at home, Dr. Nowë. Though mine will probably include a less nice bottle of wine,” he adds with a tight little smile. He risks a look at the older man pulling a sweater over his head, and is surprised to see him smiling warmly.
“Call me Círdan. And do you have someone joining you in this quiet evening?”
Lindir blushes slightly, remembering another piece of information that resident conveyed when he was describing Dr. Nowë (Círdan!) standing free of that wetsuit, naked as the day he was born.
“Regrettably, no.”
“Do you like Chinese food?” Círdan’s smile is a gift, conveying as it does an invitation, and not only to dinner.
Let us leave the City now and briefly journey South, where we find another family gathering for the holiday. This one is rather larger than the Peredhel clan--in fact there are a baker’s dozen of them inhabiting this (thankfully large) house, though we are mainly concerned with two of these: Finn and his husband Erestor. Nearly all of them have left the house to look at nearby Christmas lights; this includes Finn, his brother and sister (elder and younger, respectively), their spouses, and their children (five total). The two who remain are Finn’s husband Erestor, who is reading a book in the living room and luxuriating in silence, and Evelyn, the matriarch of this clan, who is in the kitchen making her famous lemon sugar cookies. This moment of quiet has been orchestrated by Finn as a gift to his husband, a small repayment of the larger gift that is Erestor’s willingness to sleep five nights on a pullout couch and play chess with Finn’s nephews and watch Hallmark movies with Finn’s sister while drinking mulled wine that is made with an $8 bottle.
One would be hard pressed to find two members of the household who are more different than these two hangers back, though they do share one outward characteristic: both are currently bald, one by choice, the other (wearing an expensive wig) very much not so. Erestor is drinking a glass of bourbon neat (Finn’s father knows his bourbon, thankfully) and has just slipped into the complicated thriller he’s reading in French when he hears a low curse from the other room. He looks up from his book but does not move until a clang and another curse have him heading reluctantly to the kitchen.
He finds Evelyn wrestling with an enormous plastic bowl of candied lemon. She sighs when he comes in. “Erestor I am so sorry. I cannot seem to open this thing. Goddamn chemo, giving me goddamn butter fingers.”
Erestor pries open the plastic lid, considers whether he can with a clear conscience leave Evelyn to her cookie making alone, and decides that he cannot. Her willingness to take the Lord’s name in vain twice in a short span should not be dismissed, as Evelyn is both a big and small c Christian. And so he takes up the knife she’s dropped and asks how finely he should chop the citron.
“Well if you’re offering, I could use the help. Bring in your drink and I promise not to talk your ear off.”
Evelyn’s promise is quickly broken as the two work on the dough. She is impressed at Erestor’s skill with the knife as he makes short work of the candied lemon and Erestor is impressed at Evelyn’s vivid descriptions of the people they’ll be joining for midnight mass tomorrow, iced as they are with her sharp observations (many bless their hearts included).
“I know you’ll handle it well, you have such beautiful manners, but I thought it fair to warn you that Libby is definitely going to say something about you looking like one of the wise men. She’s not racist, mind you, just a bit… limited. She told the gardener once that she loves Cancun and everyone knows he’s Peruvian. Anywho, have I told you about the Johnsons? They always sit near the McAdams but rumor has it that Roger had an affair with the nanny and Avril McAdams is the one who recommended her, so if you see them sitting in a different pew you’ll know why.”
Erestor lets this monologue wash over him as he wisks eggs. He finds that he doesn’t really mind it. The gossip isn’t mean-spirited exactly. It’s more of a hobby: as Erestor enjoys the hunt for a new Rioja Reserva, Evelyn enjoys judging her neighbor. His own mother is the same way; after her duties as a diplomat’s wife were done, she’d always treated Erestor to a piece of gossip or three. The cookie dough smells sweet and fragrant with lemon, and he’s got a glass of excellent bourbon to take the edge off. After they put the dough in the fridge Erestor thinks he can head back to the living room alone with a clear conscience. Evelyn announces the desire to join him though, and so instead of going back to his book, Erestor pours them both a drink. They sit sipping their bourbon in companiable silence while they contemplate the Christmas tree lights.
“I do appreciate your helping me, Erestor,” Evelyn says after a few minutes. “I know you probably weren’t planning to spend your time listening to an old woman ramble.” Erestor hurries to reassure her but she waves him off with her glass. They hear cars pulling into the driveway and Evelyn chooses these last quiet moments to say, “And I know you’ll take care of Finn when I’m gone, won’t you?”
Erestor takes a small moment to recover, clears his throat. His first impulse is to say what Finn would, that she will be around for a long while yet, modern medicine and its medieval poisons willing, but knowing what is required in the moment is a gift, and it’s one he can provide.
“Of course I will. Always.”
“Good,” she says, and pats him on the knee as she rises to open the door. “If they drive you too crazy, I have some excellent medical marijuana. I would be happy to share if you need more than that bourbon.”
Here we will pause for a brief moment to appreciate the kindness of relatives and relative strangers before we return to the City, where Rune and Cel are standing half inside Elond’s closet. Rune’s asked Cel to help her get ready, knowing that even if she is the one being helped, letting Cel feel useful is a gift. So even though she has a black dress in her suitcase, even though she is nearly a foot taller than Cel and smaller in the bust, she will take Cel up on her offer to look through the dresses she has at Elrond’s place. She’s politely nodded at a few options when Cel pulls out a short black silk dress. It’s very simple, with fluttery short sleeves, a flared skirt, and a high neck that ties in a bow, leaving the ends to trail like long scarves. Rune brushes her fingers over an edge without thinking and Cel turns it to show her the back, which is pleated and has a long, thin slit in it.
“Try it on.”
Rune does, despite being sure it won’t fit her. And (holiday miracle?) it does; if she has rather more height than Cel, it is, as Cel says admiringly, all leg.
“It’s a little short,” Rune muses, looking at herself in the mirror. She’s not displeased.
“Trust me, it’s the right amount of short,” says Cel.
“My legs will be cold on the walk to that subway…”
“You’re taking a car,” says Cel. “We already arranged it.”
Cel heads to the bathroom to find some blush for Rune and hears her say, “Well if it’s already been arranged…”
“What are you getting Elrond for Christmas?” Rune couldn’t help but look at the label when she’d slipped on the dress and given that it’s a designer even she knows, she’s betting Elrond’s gift is going to be something expensive. What do rich people give each other? Matching Rolexes?
When Cel arrives, makeup bag in hand, she’s frowning. “I had a really hard time picking a gift. Elrond’s just so… considerate, and I know he’s probably chosen the perfect thing.”
“I’m sure he’ll love whatever you give him,” says Rune, and means it.
“Well, I suppose I can tell you. I got us tickets to the symphony,” says Cel. “It’s a program I think he’d like. I got him something else too but that one is kind of private.”
Rune wiggles her eyebrows, and Cel laughs. “Nothing racy, I swear. Just something we’ve been discussing. Anyway, I hope he’s not too disappointed. I know he’ll never tell me if he doesn’t like them.”
Rune smiles. “You’re right enough that he wouldn’t, but I’m pretty sure any gift that involves spending time with you is gonna be a hit. He was dying to talk about you when he came to visit over the summer. It was very sweet.” She kindly neglects to mention that she and Elros had a bet about who could get Elrond to mention Cel more times, a bet she’d won handily and cashed in for a night of adults only camping in the fall (a night that, come to think of it, might be responsible for her current pregnancy).
“I was excited to meet you both. I just…” Cel worries her lower lip. “I just hope you know how much I care about your brother-in-law…”
Rune feels like a queen in this dress and she towers over Cel (even in the flats she brought), so if the way she takes Cel’s hand and gives it a squeeze gives a certain air of noblesse oblige, we can forgive her. She pulls Cel in for one of her famous hugs, and this is certainly a gift, the gift of familial acceptance.
They emerge from the bedroom and the brothers El look up from the living room rug where they’re helping Nolen with a building kit (in fact they are doing the building and Nolen is rolling around a short distance away with a teddy bear that is half his size). Elrond whistles and Elros scrambles to his feet.
“It’s too much maybe?” says Rune. “Cel said it’s not going to be the shortest thing we’ll see tonight but I have my doubts…”
Elros is at her side before she can continue. “There certainly won’t be any dresses that look better than this one looks on my gorgeous wife.” He whispers something in Rune’s ear that makes her blush and she gives him a playful shove followed by a little kiss on the cheek.
“Get a room!” teases Elrond. He has an arm around Cel and he’s rubbing his thumb against the nape of her neck in a way that makes her want to get them one herself.
Later the borrowed dress will provide Rune with a priceless gift: in the bathroom at Symphony Hall the woman washing her hands next to her will say, “Great dress.” This will give her sufficient confidence to agree to go to the fancy bar Elrond’s suggested for a nightcap. The recommendation came with a report about Nolen that is so detailed Elros jokes it reminds him of doing hand offs back in his residency. At the fancy bar Elros has the idea to ask the bartender to fix Rune a mocktail; it has six ingredients and costs nearly as much as Elros’s whiskey, which costs more than a cheeseburger, fries, and coke at their favorite lunch place back home. There is a live pianist and an empty loveseat they manage to snag, and Elros keeps one hand on Rune’s knee and another on the strip of skin that’s exposed by the slit in the back of her dress. They give each other shy smiles like they did when they were first dating, except that these communicate, can you believe we’re pulling this off?
Back at Elrond’s Cel is cleaning up in the kitchen. They managed to get a little chicken noodle soup into Nolen earlier along with a couple popsicles. They also watched a movie featuring sentient construction vehicles that had no discernable plot but distracted Nolen enough to allow Elrond to take his temperature a couple times and confirm that it hadn’t gone higher. A couple minutes after insisting he was “NOT TIRRRRED” Nolen falls asleep on Erond, and his fever must have broken because he’s cooler now but a little sweaty.
They have a whispered conference about where to put him to bed. Neither is crazy about the idea of him being alone in Elrond’s huge bed: El is worried he’ll fall out and Cel has an inkling that Rune and Elros might appreciate a little alone time when they arrive home, if only to sleep. Elrond, who when he was Nolen’s age had already experienced a variety of sleeping arrangements, suggests they get some pillows and make him a bed on the living room floor. Cel fetches these and then finds extra pajamas in Nolen’s suitcase and together they try to change him out of the sweaty ones without speaking or waking him up. It’s like a corporate team building exercise but with incredibly high stakes. They almost manage it.
Cel has not considered sufficiently the feelings that Elrond stroking the hair of a small child who is sleeping on his chest will evoke and when Nolen wakes up, she has to watch a little hand seek Elrond’s as they head together to the potty. She has a stern talk with herself about how she is building her event planning business and they don’t even live together yet and now is not the time.
Speaking of time, depending on the vagaries of perception and whether you are currently the parent of a small child, it takes either forever or not long at all to get Nolen back to sleep. Cel and El end up back on the couch propped against each other. Elrond stares at the Christmas tree on which he spent way too much money. It’s shedding needles at an alarming rate. Despite trying to manage his expectations, despite telling himself that he’s just glad to have his brother with him, he’s feeling more than a little defeated.
Is there something about sitting in a space lit only by tiny light bulbs that invites confession? Perhaps there is, and perhaps this is a gift for two people who love each other as these two do.
Elrond’s phone vibrates. It’s a text from Elros.
OK ty for insanely detailed case notes. Sounds like he’s fine. going to grab a drink if they let us into that place you suggested then back to your place. R loved the music. Really needed a night out. Tysm
“Sounds like they’re going to grab a drink. Hopefully this salvages the day.” He sighs.
“Kids get sick.” Cel puts an arm around him and gives his shoulder a squeeze.
“I just wanted to show them a good time,” whispers El.
“You did. But they’re not here for the sights, El. They’re here to see you.”
“It’s just…Elros doesn’t ever take a break. He’s at that clinic all the time and I can tell they're struggling sometimes. I’m happy for them but another kid is going to put a strain on things. And he won’t take money from me.” Elrond has a deal with Elros’s nurse—he texts her, she tells him what they need, and Elrond sends it. He’s learned that Elros won’t refuse a case of glucose test strips, but if Elrond writes a check, it won’t be cashed.
“He’s smarter than me, Cel. He could have gone into any specialty he wanted but he wanted to do family practice. And on the res, too. It’s selfish but I wanted him closer.” He pauses and she feels him reach an arm up to wipe his eyes. “I thought I could at least show them a good time.”
Cel wraps herself around him and rubs his back.
“You ARE, El. They’re getting a night out. That’s a treat I’m sure. My friends with kids always tell me they can’t do much on vacation but they still go cause it’s nice to have a change of scenery, you know? We can just hang out tomorrow, see how Nolen’s feeling. Maybe do one thing if it works out? They won’t care. They just want to relax.”
El nods and gives her a kiss on the cheek.
“He’s so cute,” says Cel, nodding in Nolen’s direction.
“Elros says being cute is how they survive.” Elrond recalls a visit to Elros a couple years ago when they’d had to leave a grocery store because Nolen was having a tantrum. He looks over at Cel, who is looking down at his nephew. He had thought for a long time that he would not have the opportunity to have a child, and so he’d put that wish aside like so many others. He’s still getting used to the idea that he might get to keep Cel. Having a family seems like too much to hope for.
“Do you still think you might want one?” Cel’s looking at Nolen when she says it, but she’s tense beside him, waiting.
“With you, yes.” Elrond pulls Cel closer. “Absolutely. We aren’t there yet, though. Are we?”
“Not yet,” agrees Cel. “But maybe if we decide to make things official…”
“Get married, you mean?” Elrond supplies. He’d have given her a ring for Christmas if he thought she was ready.
“Yes,” says Cel. She views conversations about marriage as an intensely pleasurable indulgence, the kind you need to experience in small quantities. She doesn't want to take anything for granted nor does she want to get swept away the way she did during her first (failed) marriage. “I think maybe if we got married, I might consider starting on the kid thing sooner rather than later.”
“We have a little time. You’re only 33. And I'll be an old dad. I’d be an old dad even if you got pregnant tomorrow.”
“If I got pregnant tomorrow you would be freaking out.”
“I think I’d be concerned about complications from the IUD that didn’t do its one job.”
“Elrond.” Cel shakes her head.
“Give me a little credit, sweetheart. I might freak out a little on your behalf but then I would be happy. Very happy.”
“I’m worried about your gift,” confesses Cel suddenly. “It’s not a big thing. I don’t know if you’ll like it.”
Elrond pulls her closer. “I don’t care what you get me. I don’t know if you’ll like yours either. It’s… well I guess I can tell you it’s jewelery. Not a ring,” he rushes to say. “We said we’d discuss that together. I got so nervous about getting the right thing that I made Erestor come with me. If you like it you can thank him for signing off.”
Cel narrowly avoids saying ‘oh thank god’ out loud. Erestor’s taste is, in her view (and in fact), impeccable. At this moment, a quiet knock can be heard, and Elrond rises to let his brother and sister in law in. Rune is smiling and after checking on Nolen, Elros sends her to shower.
“She loves your shower more than me, El,” he jokes. “Thanks for watching him.”
“Any time.” Elrond walks his brother to the bedroom and tells him quietly that the door locks and that he and Cel will be sleeping on the couch to keep an eye on Nolen.
Elros looks a little embarrassed. “We’re not teenagers, El. We’ll probably just sleep.”
“Absolutely.” Elrond nods. “I’m just providing information here.”
“Listen, tomorrow…”
“We can take it easy,” Elrond says. “See how Nolen’s feeling.”
“Sounds good. Thanks again.”
“Oh, if he mentions it, Santa knows the doorman and that’s how he’s getting in without a chimney. I had to improvise. Sorry.”
“Shit.” Despite bringing a suitcase full of presents with him, Elros has forgotten this part. He laughs a little. “I would have just said it’s magic. Thanks.” He pulls Elrond in for a hug and for a moment the two brothers are kids again, kids who had presents from various charities but never from Santa.
On Christmas morning there will be many gifts, though none will be so precious as the ones I have described. Only one comes close (for Elrond): along with the symphony tickets, Cel has enclosed the card of a family friend, the real estate agent who will help she and Elrond find a place together. She’s already told her management company she won’t be renewing her lease.