Chapter 34: Joy to the Land

December 25, 1981

I awoke with my face half-covered in soft blonde hair.

“Morning, Ang. Merry Christmas.”

“Mmm. Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“You are still the best Christmas present ever, even if our story doesn’t start at Christmas.”

She laughed. “The same. Definitely.” I stretched, then she did the same. No question, she was more entertaining to look at, and she knew it. Her hands ran over my chest playfully. “Not at all the Steve I knew, and that’s a good thing. I’ll always know that one, but this is the one I love.”

“I won’t do what you did. Wouldn’t be behaving,” I said with a wink. “And, you know I never really knew the other Angie. This is the one I love.”

She smiled. “Part of me would love it if you didn’t refrain, but, yeah, it wouldn’t be behaving, and where it would go definitely wouldn’t be.”

As if the decision was that we either must stop now or run off the rails, we both got up and dressed. Then we sat and talked about school until it was time for breakfast. We found Mom and Dad just heading out of their room as we headed for the elevator.

“Morning, Mom and Dad! Merry Christmas!” Angie said.

“Merry Christmas!” we all echoed.

“It feels strange not going to church on Christmas day,” Dad said.

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever done that,” Mom added.

I looked at Angie; she looked at me. We looked back at them. “Well, why not?” I said. “We have a car. There must be a church around that would fit.”

They looked at each other. “We didn’t think...” Mom started.

“We have three days here. If we miss something, that’s not that important compared to you having a good Christmas.”

Mom sighed. “That’s so sweet. Um ... Sam?”

He smiled. “I’ll ask the concierge. There’s usually a list. And we need breakfast either way.”

We headed down, the three of us getting a table while Dad got a list. He was back quickly. “There’s a Lutheran church a few miles away. Not our denomination, but I can’t imagine that matters on Christmas! Their services start at 9:30 so we should just be able to make it. It might be crowded, though.”

We made it through breakfast by 9 and headed over to the church. Dad found a spot in the crowded parking lot. We hadn’t dressed for church, but many of the others hadn’t, either.

An elder greeted us at the door. Dad explained we were from out of town but couldn’t miss church on Christmas. That was apparently a familiar story. We found some room in a back pew and settled in.

By time the service started, the building was standing room only. The service was a bit different from one at home — a bit looser, a newer translation of the Bible — but the story, of course, remained the same. And the hymns weren’t different, not on Christmas.

An hour later we were on the road back to the hotel, Dad and Mom smiling. “Thank you for indulging us, kids!” Mom said with a big smile. “I know it’s the same thing every year and we know it by heart, but it’s still special.”

Angie laughed. “How could we complain? It’s special for us, too. Besides, you’ve spent hours indulging us at the theme parks.”

Dad chuckled. “We enjoyed ourselves, too! Just because we’re not screaming on a roller coaster doesn’t mean we’re not having fun. It’s been nice for us to be together somewhere pretty with nothing to do for a while!”

Mom nodded right along with him. “Today we’re all going into the parks together, but tomorrow you and Steve can go in on your own and ride the roller coasters and we’ll join in later.”

“That sounds good!” Angie said.

This time we took the monorail into the park. Despite the crowds, the line moved quickly. Once in, we headed for Autopia. That was something we could all do — and did. There were a lot of collisions and a lot of laughter.

After that, we slowed down, riding the PeopleMover, then seeing America Sings, riding the Rocket Jets, and generally exploring Tomorrowland. Hitting lunchtime, we headed for Main Street and a nice café, sitting and talking and enjoying people-watching. With the sizable crowds, it was nice not feeling like we needed to be in high gear.

After lunch we meandered through the shops, not buying anything. That lasted until we got to the front of the park and I spied the store selling mouse ears. That produced a buying frenzy. All four of us needed ears, of course. Then there were Jasmine’s. Angie decided Gene needed ears, and I decided Cammie did, too. And if Cammie was going to have them, it’d be rude to leave Mel out.

We had them sent to the hotel — another advantage of staying where we were staying — and went to Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln. Dad nodded along, looking like a kid. Growing up in Illinois, he said that he’d been taught ‘The gospel of St. Lincoln’ in school. He loved it and was clearly a bit emotional by the end. Angie and I pretended not to notice, but Mom hugged him, and they held hands as they went out.

A slow meander back up Main Street put us in place to see the afternoon parade, which we enjoyed — and then the Enchanted Tiki Room. By this point, Mom and Dad said they were feeling tired, and the lines had gotten so long that neither Angie nor I wanted to stand through them. Two hours is just too much for the Jungle Cruise or any of the coasters. Angie and I did scamper through the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse, just to do it today.

The four of us strolled back to the monorail station and rode back to the hotel. We made plans to get together at 7 for dinner, and then headed to our rooms.

“Nap time!” Angie yelled, stripping down to her underwear. I followed suit, and soon we were snuggling and snoozing.

The phone woke us a bit after 6. “Hello?”

“Steve! You sound sleepy,” Nancy giggled.

“We took a nap after Disneyland.”

“Ahh. Yeah, Disney can get tiring. So, I have a suggestion. There’s a great Mexican place close to us. You could pick me up and we could eat there.”

“Do they have a decent selection of gringo food?” I asked. “Mom and Dad aren’t big on Mexican, though I could probably convince them.”

“Yeah,” she replied, laughing. “Well, I think so, anyway. It looks OK. I haven’t tried the gringo choices.”

“I’ll suggest it. Also, what’s your address, and how do we get there?” She gave me directions. “Thanks. 7pm OK?”

“Yeah, that’ll work fine. How’s your Disney adventure going?”

“We’ve ridden most everything on our must-ride list except any of the coasters and Jungle Cruise. I want to do Haunted Mansion and Pirates one more time too, and the Skyway.”

“Well, that’ll keep you busy!”

“Angie and I will be in at opening tomorrow. We’ll get through the coasters while everyone else is hitting Fantasyland. Mom and Dad will join for Skyway and the rest. At least, that’s the plan. And we have lunch tomorrow at the Blue Bayou.”

“Oh, I love that place! Cool! See you tomorrow!”

“See you then!”

I hung up. Angie laughed. “As long as it’s not too spicy and isn’t too authentic, I think it’ll be fine.”

“Me, too.”

We joined Mom and Dad downstairs at 7pm, trying a different restaurant. They were serving a traditional Christmas menu, so why not? Everything was delicious — no surprise there.

While waiting, I mentioned the plan. “Nancy’s thinking maybe to meet at her house at 7pm to go to a Mexican place nearby that she thinks is good. I checked, and she says she’s pretty sure they have some good non-Mexican options if you’d prefer, or you can just ask them to turn down the spiciness in most things.”

They looked at each other. “I think we can try it,” Mom said. “It should be fine. And I’ve looked at the menu for the Blue Bayou and we might not be starving, anyway!”

“Great! I have directions. She thinks it’ll take about twenty minutes to get to her house from here, more or less.”

After dinner, Angie and I dropped by our room, fetched three little packages each from our luggage, grinned at each other, then went over and knocked on Mom and Dad’s door.

“Just a minute!” Dad called. He opened the door, then looked at the packages. “I thought we were waiting until we got back!”

I looked around him. “And that’s why you have packages of your own.”

“Well, yeah,” he laughed. “We all knew we wouldn’t do it. Come in, kids.”

We did. Mom came out of the bathroom, grinning. “I see you beat us to it!”

We each handed packages around. I’d cheated; I imagined we all had. I got Dad a new briefcase; his beloved current briefcase was in increasingly iffy shape. Angie got him a nice umbrella. Neither of those fit into little boxes, but we had pictures. For Mom, I had a car organizer. She was constantly complaining about things sliding around. Angie had bought her an electric foot massager.

Dad got Mom earrings and Mom got Dad a tie clip; nothing fancy. Angie and I got each other new backpacks. Both of ours were iffy, and we could use an upgrade.

Their presents to us were bigger, of course. We knew they would be. We’d both mentioned dance lessons, so they’d signed us up for a program that emphasized stage dance and ‘movement skills’, not ballroom dancing — just what we needed. We would need to move to one-day-a-week karate on Thursdays, but we were out of nights. Our schedules just got busier and busier.

The classes were 5-6:30 — both dance and the new karate — meaning we could, probably, still manage evening rehearsal, which was 7-9, specifically to accommodate things like other extracurriculars. Of course, we’d have to wolf down fast food or something, but that’s life on a busy schedule.

We thanked them, they thanked us, and we all hugged. Angie and I headed down to the pool and swam for a bit, followed by a shower. She grinned and winked. “So, do you want to burn off some energy before seeing Nancy? Or will seeing her likely result in excess energy?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. It could go either way.”

“Let’s wait one night. It’s not like we couldn’t just burn off energy every night, but waiting is likely better. Once here, maybe once on the train. Crowded or not, I think we owe it to ourselves to take advantage of the opportunity at least once.”

I laughed. “Like I’m going to argue.”

“You value your life!”

“So... ?”

She wiggled her fingers. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Me, too.”

“I ... think it’s OK. Edgy. But OK. I still feel like there’s no slippery slope here. The only other options are clearly just plain not behaving, and we won’t convince ourselves that they’re OK.”

I nodded. “I think I can look Dr. Stanton in the eye and say we behaved, if we go that far. That said, it’s past what we said before.”

“It is, but it should be OK. For now, let’s play cards. Not strip cards. Just for fun.”

I looked at her. “Um ... Ang, for it to be strip cards we’d have to put clothes on first.”

“Details! I just want to do something that’s not heavy thinking before we try to sleep.”

We played for half an hour, then headed for bed. We needed sleep.

No, we didn’t put any clothes on before bed.

December 26, 1981

In the morning we were officially on our own. Mom and Dad were sleeping late. Or ... well ... no, sleeping late. Definitely that. What else might they be doing?

Actually, I hoped they were enjoying themselves. It wasn’t through the wall next to Angie’s room here, after all. I’d had clues the first go-round — things found while cleaning out the house after they’d both passed on — that made it pretty clear they’d had a healthy love life well into their later years. We just didn’t particularly want to hear it. And, after all, they wouldn’t want to hear us, now would they? Fair’s fair, right?

We slept a bit late, too, but wolfed breakfast and were at the monorail in time to get right over to the park on time. First thing: Space Mountain. It was every bit as impressive as I remembered, good enough that we bit the bullet and rode it twice, the second time using the single-rider line. We hit the Matterhorn next, then fast-walked across the park to Thunder Mountain Railroad.

It was about noon when we finished. We needed to meet Mom and Dad back at the monorail station at 12:30. We strolled back, taking our time, holding hands, smiling to the other guests. It was still crowded, but not like yesterday.