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Rainbowland VI – Old McDonald Had A Christmas
A fantasy that takes place somewhere over the rainbow, in one of many possible realities involving Katharine McPhee, her McPhamily, McPhriends and McPhans
"Who on Earth has a live talk show this close to Christmas anyway?" I said. "Everything’s taped." I tapped impatiently on the steering wheel and wished the light would change. Then we continued on down Ventura Boulevard.
"Not when you’re a new show on a struggling cable network," Katharine said. "God, Chris, don’t ask me to explain technical details. I’m talent, not management."
"And Kellie’s one of your oldest friends and Pook’s godmother and all that stuff. I know, I know. But still, how you two ever got off on some of the tangents you did…"
"Here’s the restaurant. Keep your mind on your driving. Please?"
I tipped the valet, who started to say something, then changed his mind, looked back and forth from me to Katharine, then finally said, "Thanks, Ka—uh—Miss McPhee. I mean, Mister, uh—"
I was in no mood to be called Mr. McPhee at the moment, so I just shook my head, rolled my eyes, and stomped off. Behind me, I heard Katharine saying, "You must be new here, Sweetie. You can call him Doctor McDonald. That ought to make him happy." She caught up with me and linked her arm through mine. "Wait for me, Grumpy." As we were heading for the main dining room, she said, "I can’t believe that crazy woman asked me where’s the oddest place I ever had sex."
"I can’t believe you answered her!" I said.
"Well, I’m just comfortable with Kellie. We’ve always talked about everything under the sun. It slipped out before I thought."
"That’s the story of your life."
"You know me—when she said ‘I double dog dare ya!’ I had to answer."
We had to call a halt to the bickering long enough to be ushered to our table and order a glass of wine, and coffee for me. Although there was a decent amount of space between tables, I couldn’t help wishing for the solid physical presence of a high backed booth so I could feel like we were in a private space. "Under a stage with a performance going on right over your head? Weren’t you afraid somebody would walk in on you?"
"It was mostly used for storage. And there was nobody around."
"Still, I can’t believe you actually—"
"I didn’t. Actually. It was more like—"
"Oh never mind. Now I really don’t want to hear about it."
"Good grief, it wasn’t like I was cheating on you or anything! It was before you. Or after you. Well, between you, actually."
"Sshhhh! I just don’t want to hear what you did with all those other guys!"
"There wasn’t any ‘all those other guys’!" she said, beginning to sound really agitated. "It’s not like there was a cast of thousands or anything! I think you’re just jealous because it wasn’t with you."
"Of all the superlatives I wouldn’t mind being, ‘oddest’ isn’t one of them."
"You’re making this into such a big thing. It wasn’t. It was just, well, me running my mouth. I’m famous for that."
"Okay, I can’t get you to understand. Maybe I’m overreacting. Let’s just eat."
The food was superb, the service flawless. Most of the local restaurants enjoyed having someone of Katharine’s growing celebrity patronizing them and treated us like visiting royalty. Most of the time I really enjoyed the quality jazz groups that played Spazio, but tonight even that irritated me.
When we were ready to leave, Katharine again linked her arm around mine and pulled me close to her. "You’re the grump of all times lately. What is going on with you?"
I slowed down and actually tried to think as we were walking to the car. "I’m not sure. I think I’m just feeling the pressure."
"From where? Work?"
"It’s like every week I’m learning a whole new field. One week it’s purchasing and procurement. Next it’s accounting. Then I have to sit with insurance reps and figure out which health care plan makes the most sense for our employees. I didn’t go to school for all that crap. That’s not what I want to do with my life. Last year Al and I were doing the most amazing things. We took a couple of conjoined twin pups and separated them. One made it, one didn’t, but if we hadn’t done it they’d have both died. That little rascal’s doing fine now. He’s a little misshapen in the area where they were joined, but by God he’s alive and running around barking and chewing on things and having accidents on carpets and being a normal dog. And I helped do that. That’s what I want to do. Not be a damn bean counter. Nothing wrong with bean counters, you understand, but I’m not cut out to be one of them."
The valet brought the car around, handed me the keys, and said "Here you go, Dr. McPhee!"
"McDonald!" Katharine said. "We want our tip back." The kid looked so horrified that we both had to laugh. As we were driving away, she slid one arm over and tugged my earlobe. "Isn’t it obvious that Al’s training his successor? You may never have to do any of those things, but you need to know about them. He knows what you’re best at."
"I know," I said with a sigh. "And I know I need to know all this stuff. It’s just that I want to do everything right. And I don’t want to stop being a doctor while I’m doing it. Or a father. Or anything else. There are just so many loose ends. I never seem to get everything done. And I used to get up early and hit the treadmill or the weight bench every morning. These days I’m too tired. I whack the alarm clock and turn back over. And it shows. I don’t look like the guy you married anymore."
"Sure you do."
"No I don’t. But I still eat like him," I said, patting myself on the stomach.
"The holiday season isn’t a good time to focus on something like that," she said good naturedly. "Nobody watches what they eat at Christmas."
"You don’t gain weight."
"I’m more phobic about it than you are. I have to look a certain way to be employable. You don’t."
"Employable, maybe not. Healthy, maybe." We stopped at a red light and I turned and looked her right in the face. "And how about attractive?"
Katharine burst out into a fit of almost childlike giggles. "Oh lord, are you worried about that? I shouldn’t laugh, you’re obviously upset. Lord. Critter, you haven’t turned into the Pillsbury Doughboy or anything. And you still get up in the middle of the night whenever one of the girls lets out a squeak and you know Mom has to be up at the crack of dawn for a photoshoot and needs her beauty sleep, and you never forget birthdays or anniversaries, and you’ve still got the most beautiful blue eyes since Brad Pitt, and all that stuff counts for something. Let’s get a little perspective here."
I pulled into the drive, turned off the ignition and tried to feel better. "Well, maybe I just think you deserve the best," I said.
"And maybe I think I’ve got it," she said. "You know what? I made you a present this morning. Didn’t know if it could wait til Christmas or not. I think maybe it shouldn’t. In fact I think maybe we should move Christmas Eve up a day. You need some cheering up."
Our tradition was becoming that although Christmas Day was when everyone piled in to watch the babies tear through presents, Christmas Eve was our time for ourselves when we would exchange presents and shut the rest of the world out completely.
Katharine plugged her camera phone into my computer and uploaded something, then got up, waited for me to reclaim my chair, and sat on my lap while I watched the show. "I just kinda caught this on the fly this morning," she said. "You’ll like it."
The theme was obviously Kaycee trying to organize a doll party, and Pookie was to play the part of one of the guests. Evidently the dolls and stuffed toys were behaving better than her little sister because Kaycee was becoming more and more frustrated, marching around rearranging little chairs and dinnerware and guests and trying to get Pookie to sit down and pay attention.
Than