Songs of Lesser Voices
Christina F. York
Published by Tsunami Ridge Publishing at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Christina F. York
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Songs of Lesser Voices
Christina F. York
There were six of us that Christmas, three couples mixed and matched since junior high. Thrown together as the "not good enough for chorus" club, we bonded over a shared pose of too-cool-to-join.
Twenty years later, paired up and nostalgic, we met for dinner and wine and memories.
"A toast," Jake said, lifting his glass. "To good friends, and bad voices."
We all joined in the toast, chuckling at the memory of how we met.
I was always amazed at the things I remembered. The humiliation of auditions for the not-very-good glee club had stayed with me, and I suspected it had with the others. We all pretended it didn't matter at the time, and eventually came to believe that was true. But I always knew something was missing.
Our Christmas party had become an annual affair after we all went off to college. Each year, as we came home for the holidays, we would reassemble, share a meal, and catch up on each other's lives.
Somehow, we had all moved back to our small hometown, and picked up our friendships where they'd left off. In the intervening years, we had become couples and families, each other's oldest and dearest friends.
Now, we met once again to celebrate the holidays, and the passing of another year.
Still, something was missing.
I don't know when it struck me, but this year I knew what that something was.
And I knew what to do about it.
As we gathered in Jake and Lyn's living room to exchange gifts, I put my plan in motion. There was a package for each of us, marked "from Santa." Inside were a hat, gloves, and a scarf. They all matched, giving us a uniform.
"Matching scarves?" Lyn asked. "Isn't that kind of junior high?"
I nodded. "Yeah, it kind of is. But it's part of my plan."
"What plan?" asked Alyssa and Michelle in unison. It was something they'd done for years, and it was still unnerving.
"Yeah, what plan?" My husband Bruce said.
"You'll see," I answered, and smiled. "It's just something I need to do."
Bruce looked at me with a question in his eyes. I didn't often keep secrets from him--well, except for things like Christmas gifts, and occasionally the cost of a pair of shoes. He waited, but I didn't answer right away.
We finished opening our gifts, and Jake refilled our glasses. A pleasant hum of conversation filled the room with warmth and friendship, until I stood up, and asked for their attention.
"You wanted to know about the scarves, and the gloves," I said. "It's because there's something I have always wanted to do a Christmas."
I looked from one face to the other, the people that were closest to me, the friends of my childhood and now my adulthood. I swallowed hard before I continued.
"I want to go caroling."
My friends seemed torn between shock and amusement. The idea that the "not good enough for chorus" club could go caroling was not anything they had ever considered.
"I know," I said. "None of us are singers. We weren't singers in junior high, and we aren't now. But I have a plan, and I hope you'll help me."
Bruce reacted first. "If it's that important, honey," he said, "I'm with you."
Everyone nodded, and I continued. "Bring your hats, and gloves, and scarves, and meet in front of my house tomorrow at seven. Bring the kids, if you want." I knew Alyssa and Michelle might have babysitter problems.
***
Promptly at seven the next evening, everyone was waiting on my front lawn. A light snow was falling, giving our street the look of a quintessential Christmas scene.
"Okay," Jake said. Apparently he had been elected spokesperson for the group. "We're here, Janie. How do we get away with this?"
"With these." I handed each of my friends a small paper sack. Lyn glanced inside, then back at me, a grin spreading across her face.
I nodded, clutching my own paper sack, and signaled them to follow me down the street.
We assembled outside my neighbor's house, and I glanced from one face to the other. "Okay. Ready?"
I glanced from one to the other as they all nodded.
This was it. The thing I'd been missing.
"Everybody take the blue card, the one with the snowflakes on the front." I waited as they all withdrew the greeting cards from their bags. "On three," I said.
"One, two, three."
On my mark, they each opened their card, and the faint strains of "Silent Night" played from each one.
It wasn't exactly caroling, but for us it was good enough.
About the author:
Christina F. York is a native of the Pacific Northwest. She writes across several genres, including SF, fantasy, romance, and mystery, sometimes in collaboration with husband J. Steven York.
Email Chris at christina-york@sff.net, or follow her on Facebook (Christina York) or Twitter (@christinafyork)
Look for more great books at WWW.TsunamiRidge.com
If you liked this book, try some of Christina's other books:
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Drawn back into Davey's world, Penny struggles to break free. But which is stronger, her fear of the ocean and what it does to the men who fish it, or her attraction to Davey?
And short stories:
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The upside? Fame, fortune, and a job she loves.
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Unicorns, after all, can only be ridden by virgins.
So what's a girl to do when she falls in love?
Fortress of Solitude
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When one door closes, another opens, or so they say. So why am I sitting behind a locked door in the laundry room, wondering how I got here? When is that other door going to open? And what will I find behind it?
Loves Me Knot
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Franklin Phillips loved one woman all his life. But young love, like roses, needs care. Without it, love can be lost for years, or decades. But just like the roses, love can flower once again. All it takes in some pruning and a little TLC.
Look for more books and stories from Christina, coming soon!