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As the applause died down, Louise shuffled back to her seat. She felt more warm and full than when she drank hot chocolate with marshmallows and extra chocolate syrup.
As the boy sitting next to her was called up to recite his poem, Louise’s gaze connected with Tina’s. Her sister flashed her a smile and a thumbs up. Louise smiled in return and gave her a small wave, hoping Tina recognized the appreciation she tried to infuse into it. Meanwhile their mom stood, one hand still on Tina’s shoulder, trying to hold back her tears. She made a valiant effort to not cry loudly and uninhibited, as she often did, to not interrupt the boy's poem about making latkes with his cousins. She sniffled and shamelessly wiped her nose on her coat sleeve.
When a round of applause ended for the last poem and the audience began to gather their things, Louise jumped up from her chair and eagerly made her way toward her mother and sister. The bounce in her step stopped halfway there, however, as self-consciousness washed over her. She hated being sappy. Lovey dovey emotions were gross. Of course, she loved her family more than anything. But admitting those feelings out loud? Even if her family would never make fun of her for that, it was still a humbling thing for the great and powerful Louise Belcher.
She walked up to her family, hugging the poem folder to her chest. An unusually shy smile and a slight blush graced her cheeks, but she tried to put on her usual air of confidence and nonchalance.
“Great job, Louise!” Tina said, enthusiasm evident even through her monotone voice. “Better than reindeer poop.”
Louise grinned, slightly relieved her sister didn’t get all sentimental on her. Sometimes thing felt more significant if left unspoken. “Thanks, T.”
“Oh, my baby! That was beautiful!” Her mom sobbed, no longer trying to hide her tears. “Oh, I’m so proud of both my girls!” She pulled them in for a tight hug.
“Ugh, mom, get your gross booger sleeve off me,” Louise whined. Still, she made no move to wriggle out of the hug she was very much participating in.
Linda didn’t even seem to hear her. “Ooh, I love you girls so much!” She kissed them each on the head.
“Love you too, mom,” Tina said. “Love you, Louise. You guys really are the best presents.”
“Love you too,” Louise murmured. Surreptitiously, she lifted her arm from Tina’s back and hoped no one saw as she wiped her eyes.
“Gene, that was incredible!” Bob said as they exited the school into the chilly December air. He patted the video recorder case hanging from his shoulder. “Your mom is going to love this.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Gene slipped his hand into Bob’s. Neither one of them had remembered to bring gloves, and a four and a half block walk home was daunting when the nighttime temperature continued to drop.
“That was your idea? To take away some of the xylophone keys so the kids knew what to play?”
“Yeah. I got the idea from my Casio. I only know like three chords, but I can still make the music of a generation.”
Bob nodded. His son had a real talent for music; Bob was beginning to realize that. For so long, it seemed like Gene just liked making fart sounds on his keyboard or banging things together to experiment with what made the most obnoxious sound. Somehow, from all that playing around, a real gift had emerged. Bob knew Gene was truly onto something if he kept with this passion. It would take him far, maybe even as far as Gene’s crazy rock star fantasies. “You’re amazing, Gene. You know that?”
“Tell me something I don't know, father!” The confident grin melted from his face and he glanced down at the sidewalk. “I only wish Ms. Merkin could’ve seen it.”
Bob studied the crestfallen look on his son’s face. The grip he had on the camera bag’s strap tightened. “Hey,” he said, trying to ignore the stinging from his scraped knees, “why don’t we go on home and grab the car and give Ms. Merkin a visit?” He hefted up the camera bag to make his point.
Gene’s eyes immediately lit up. “Yeah!” He dropped Bob’s hand to pump his fists in the air and take a few excited steps forward. “Do you think the hospital gift shop sells teddy bears that play tiny pianos?”
Bob laughed. “Probably not for under ten dollars. That’s your limit.”
“Oh, boo.” Gene stopped at a crosswalk and waited for Bob to catch up with him. “Can we at least stop in the cafeteria for some hospital Jell-o?”
Bob took his son’s hand again as they crossed the street. “Sounds good to me.”
"What's Around the Tree, by Louise Belcher..."
Bob read on, trying not to wince each time Linda applied antiseptic to his skinned knees.
“Wow, Louise wrote this? About us?”
“Yeah,” Linda laughed fondly. “Can you believe it? That little stinker loves us so much!” Linda patted his knees dry and prepared the bandages. “Geez, Bobby, you really did a number on yourself.”
“I was trying to get to Louise’s reading. None of this would have happened if she hadn’t lied about her poem.”
Linda shrugged and applied a bandage over one of the scrapes. “That tough cookie’s got a soft, gooey, underbaked center like the rest of our batch. She just doesn’t like to show it.”
Bob placed the poem down on the kitchen table. “She’s a good kid,” he said softly. “Even though I know she was the one who replaced my gas pills with breath mints this morning.”
Linda paused in applying the second bandaid. She looked up with a wry smile and gave Bob a knowing look. “That wasn’t Louise. Take a hint, Bob.”
“Lin!”
Linda snorted. She made sure the bandage was secure then patted Bob’s knee gently. She stood up and pulled Bob up by his hands. “They’re all good kids,” she said. “I can’t believe Tina missed the end of her Thundergirls play for Louise. And didn’t even tell anyone!”
“Yeah,” Bob agreed, a feeling of warm affection building in his chest. “They can be a bit…unusual. But, really, they’re good kids. We got lucky, Lin.”
Linda put a hand on her hip and poked Bob’s chest. “Luck’s got nothin’ to do with it, mister! We’re great parents raising great, weird, special kids.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “Oof, Bob, you didn’t use any of the mints I left, did you?”
“I did,” he said, slightly concerned.
“Well, go get some pants on, mister. I’ve waited all evening to see my Genie’s performance! Meet us in the living room.” As they parted ways, Linda called back, “And bring us some popcorn!”
She entered the living room and joined Tina and Louise on the couch. Gene stood in front of the Christmas tree, performing a dramatic recreation of the night’s events. Linda sipped her wine and watched Gene tell the story from Ms. Merkin's appendix bursting to the disastrous first performance to Gene’s incredible save. Louise gave her cheeky commentary throughout the retelling while Tina seemed to be on her toes the entire time. Gene finished with his and Bob’s visit to the hospital and gave a bow just as Bob entered.
Gene snatched the bowl of popcorn from his hands and went to join the others on the couch, enjoying handfuls of popcorn between bites of his take-home Jell-o.
Bob took the camcorder and fiddled with the VCR. The television screen burst with static and as the image cleared, Gene’s class appeared.
Bob turned down the lights and squeezed in beside Linda, placing an arm around his wife as she settled against him. The five of them had to smush together to all fit on the old couch, but they didn’t pay that any mind. With the Christmas tree glowing in the otherwise dim room, the five of them sat, a bowl of popcorn between them, and enjoyed the symphony of xylophones and the loving warmth that came from family.