The following day, having finished adding the last railing to the front porch, Hutch took a moment to admire his work, before taking a deep breath of the chilly winter air and glancing up at the cloud covered sky. It felt as if it could snow at any moment, but like so many days before, despite the low temperatures, the clouds refused to shed their frozen tears and gift the world with a fresh blanket of white. Taking a seat, he glanced around to see the multicolored lights hanging from the neighbors' trailers and lawn ornaments set out in preparation for the upcoming holiday season, reminding him, yet again, of how late in the year it had become, when he spotted Ren making his way up the road on his bike, bundled up in a puffy black coat, with gloves and ear muffs on, leaning forward in an awkward manner due to the weight of his backpack.
"Hey!" Hutch greeted him with a wave as he made his way up the driveway.
"Hey," Ren replied as he propped his bike against the side of the trailer before taking a closer look at the new porch. "You finished it already?"
"Just put the last board into place. It's nothing fancy but it's stable and gets the job done."
"That's incredible. Thought you'd be out here in the snow trying to finish it."
Hutch chuckled. "Well, staining it is going to have to wait until next year, but for now, I'm going to need something else to focus on."
"And that's why I'm here. I've brought an update."
"Consider my interest piqued. Help me with the tools and you can tell me over a snack."
"Deal!" Ren exclaimed, rushing forward, and grabbing an armful of tools before Hutch had even stood up.
With the tools safely locked away in the shed, Hutch and Ren headed inside, where Hutch cleaned himself up and Ren situated himself on the couch.
Washed up and in clean clothes, Hutch headed into the kitchen pulling a large bowl from the fridge filled with a potato salad he'd made earlier in the day. After serving up two bowls and putting the salad back in the fridge, he headed over to the couch and handed one of the bowls to Ren before sitting down.
Ren looked at the bowl with suspicion.
"Try it before you judge," Hutch remarked holding a spoon out to him.
"No judgement. Just when you said snack, this was not what I was picturing," Ren replied, taking the spoon.
"What were you expecting?"
"Cereal," Ren answered before taking a bite of the salad. "Yeah, forget what I said, this is amazing."
Hutch smiled as he ate, watching Ren empty his bowl, going so far as to use his finger to scoop up every last bit he could.
"You should stick around for dinner. I'm roasting chicken thighs."
"Sounds good, but I don't know what my mom's planning."
"Invite her to join us."
"Cherry won't mind?" Ren questioned, setting his bowl onto the coffee table. "Never mind, dumb question. My news first though. I talked to my grandpa at lunch, told him what I needed, and he said he would take care of it. He's going to come by tomorrow morning and drop off what he finds before taking me to school. He also told me that we can go on a tour of the Cascel Tower building and offered to take us on Saturday, if you're up for it?"
"Don't see the harm. Would be nice to see it up close."
"Especially this time of year. They have the tree and skating rink all decked out with lights. It's really something to see, even without the snow. Although they're calling for it on Friday, it doesn't sound like it's going to be much. Bit surprised your mom hasn't talked you into putting up a tree yet. She's always been really into Christmas."
"It wasn't for a lack of trying, but I don't see the need to waste the money. Thank you though, for asking your grandpa for the information. I still don't know what to think about all of this, but I'm certain, speaking to Salvador directly, is the best way to figure everything out."
A few minutes later, having finished his food and discussed the finer details of their plans, Ren bolted out the door to deliver the invitation for dinner to his mom, just as Cherry was making her way inside.
"Hi Cherry! Bye Cherry! Be back in a few!" he shouted as he left.
"Bye Renaldo!" Cherry called out after him. "I know it bugs him, but I can't help myself. He's adorable when he's embarrassed. Thought the two of you weren't talking to each other anymore, though."
"A regrettable situation, now resolved," Hutch replied as he carried the dishes into the kitchen, turning on the water as Cherry set down her purse and took off her shoes. "He'll be back in a bit. I've invited him and his mom to join us for dinner."
"Oh? You making something special for tonight worthy of sharing?" she asked while taking off her coat and hanging it over the back of the chair at the counter.
"Nothing special, but still worthy of sharing," he replied as she made his way over to him. "Your hair looks really nice. Did you enjoy your afternoon?"
"Did I ever!" she exclaimed, giving him a side hug, seeing as how his hands were drenched in soapy water. "Ruby was completely right, not that I would admit it to her, but her salon is way better than where I was going. New client for life. Or until they start going downhill. I feel a bit bad for leaving April, but her prices keep going up and her services are declining. The last couple of times I haven't been thrilled with her work."
"Seems reasonable to move on."
"I know you don't understand this, but the relationship between client and stylist is a sacred one. I have not made this decision lightly. Still, my hair is far more important. The guilt will pass," she remarked, half jesting as she rested her head on his shoulder. "You did good, Jules. Our porch looks amazing. You know you can take a break now, right?"
"I could, but I need to get the windows and siding resealed before this weekend. Ren told me it's supposed to snow on Friday."
"I certainly hope so," she replied, moving over to the couch, and sitting down. "There's only eleven days left until Christmas. Doesn't seem right not having snow. You sure you don't want to put up a tree or some lights? You used to love Christmas."
"It was you who loved Christmas, and we've already gone over this. It's an unreasonable expense. We don't need the decorations to exchange gifts."
"Ah! So, you did get me something! I knew it."
"A new front porch, financial stability, edible food, a clean house, organized closet, a new sense of pride in your son, shall I go on?"
"No," she replied with a huff, slouching down, and crossing her arms. "Still could have gotten me a little something."
"Dinner will be ready by six," Hutch said, washing the last of the dishes.
"Fine, but can we at least have turkey on Christmas?"
Hutch smirked. "Yes, mom, we can have turkey," he said, having been planning for the occasion since he had been reminded of the tradition from his youth.
While not the intense, heavy labor he enjoyed punishing himself with, Hutch did find something therapeutic about cooking. He found joy in seeing his mom delight over the food he made, and there was a sense of contentment they had come to share, with her coming to rely on him to take care of the food and him knowing that she'd come to trust him with it.
Their once contentious relationship had calmed and evolved into something pleasant and agreeable. And giving Cherry the traditional holiday feast, she wanted, seemed a small compromise to her agreeing not to decorate their house. For despite how Hutch had made it seem, it wasn't entirely about the expense or the gaudy nature of the décor, but rather he didn't care to be festive. Hutch didn't need another reminder of his lost love, family, and everything else he deeply missed.
On Illimev, the Moahaba celebrated the festival of Sissinnishinnah, an annual, two-day festival paying tribute to the planet they called home and the bounty it provided. Similar to Christmas, with the tradition of feasting and decorating, there was also the merriment of costume, song and dance, on the first day, followed by a day of solemn prayer, meditation, and reflection. It was the one day of the year where all unnecessary work was prohibited, in order to be with family.
While Hutch worked in the kitchen, preparing the chicken thighs for roasting, he found his mind drifting to those memories of the first festival he spent with Kahlala as his xalgar.
The night before the festival had proven restless. Kahlala had been too excited to sleep, knowing it would be her first-time preforming in the festival as a young xalgar, and by the time Hutch had managed to get out of bed in the morning, she had already left to join the other woman of the tribe at the long house where the Kopi'ama were waiting.