#hellcheercountdown

[a-strange-inkling]

Day 6: Family

Chicago, Illinois 1987

“Hold on, hold on, we’ve got another one for you, Wayne.” Eddie tells him as he hands him the little box they kept hidden at the back of the tree. The small living area of their apartment is cluttered with ripped up wrapping paper and curled ribbon.

“You’re both spoiling me here,” he tells them grumpily, the dark green knitted scarf Chrissy made for him wrapped twice around his neck. “I told you not to waste any money on me, I put you both out enough by coming up here to visit.”

“Rent stays the same whether you're here or not, old man.” Eddie scoffs loudly, shoving it to his chest. “Just open the damn thing.”

“Watch that tone and language in front of your wife, boy.” he snaps as he takes the box from him, turning to Chrissy who’s sitting beside him on the couch quietly, trying not to give away the surprise. She’s wearing May’s string of pearls that Wayne gave her right over her baggy nightdress. “Listen to the mouth on this kid, he better not be this fowl when I’m not around.”

She smiles and shakes her head quickly. “No, never, he’s always a gentleman.”

“Eh,” Wayne shoots his gaze back up at Eddie as he begins to undo the perfect yellow ribbon that Chrissy tied on top of the box. “You might have found yourself a good and loyal woman there, boy, but I know better. She’s just covering for you.”

Eddie grins, winking at her as he sits down in the chair across from the sofa, making a quick grabby motion with his hands for her to come sit with him for a better view. She hops up and scurries over, letting him pull her down on his lap.

She’s practically vibrating.

“This is a nice wrapping job, Chrissy must have done it.”

“Hey!” Eddie chirps. “I take offense to that.”

Wayne just snorts as he methodically unfolds the corners, freeing the cardboard box. “This better not be anything expensive, I swear.”

Eddie squeezes Chrissy around the middle in excitement, putting his chin on her shoulder. “I think you’re going to like it.”

When he lifts the lid and pulls out the trucker hat, he sighs loudly. “Like I need another one of these, you two should be spending your money on food.”

“Wayne, it says something on the front, Jesus!” Eddie exclaims in exasperation, making Chrissy shoulders shake with her held back giggle.

“Edward!” he scolds as he begins to unfold it.

“Sorry.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Smart mouthed little punk…” Wayne mutters only to pause, staring down at the letters cross stitched by hand on the front of the cap.

World’s Best Grandpa

His mouth slowly falls open as he looks back up at them, eyes wet and sparkling as he glances between them.

“You’re…” he gasps. “Chrissy, are you…?”

They both nod, their bright smiles spreading to their ears as Chrissy leans her head against Eddie’s.

“Merry Christmas, old man.” Eddie tells him. “The Munson family is growing.”

“Jesus H Christ!” he chuckles at last, bursting into tears

[staceymcgillicuddy]

Day 13: Christmas Card

@hellcheerxmas

December 13, 1992 Chicago, Illinois

Chrissy is always a certifiable freak, but pregnancy has turned her into an emotional terrorist. Eddie digs it in the way he digs everything about her, but it’s fascinating how the pod-person that is their little nugget can send her mood vacillating between joy and sorrow in five-millisecond intervals.

Like, okay, last week they’d gone Christmas tree shopping, and a toddler fell on his butt. The falling wasn’t funny, but hearing a two-year-old scream, “ass!” in front of God and Santa Claus and the scandalized woman manning the check-out stand was, objectively, hilarious. Eddie and Chrissy had gotten the giggles, hiding them behind their gloved palms as they stood in line with their modest pine. 

But then, on the train, while Eddie was trying to balance the tree and keep Chrissy upright because God forbid any cretin in this city give up his seat for a pregnant woman, she starts sobbing. Like, out of nowhere. Crying about how their baby’s gonna fall down one day, and what if she thinks that’s funny, and it scars the kid for life?

“Well, but it might be funny?” he had offered, which only made her cry harder. 

So, yeah. All that to say that it’s slightly disconcerting to come home from work and find Chrissy curled up in their bedroom closet, weeping, but not all that unusual. 

“Hi,” he says after following the sound of her sobs. “How we doing?” 

“That bitch,” she says. It comes out a honk, which makes her laugh. 

There’s something crumpled in her fist. He crouches and pries her white-tipped fingers from what he quickly identifies as a Christmas card. 

A Christmas card with a photo and a letter tucked inside. The picture is of Phillip, Laura, and Clark Cunningham, posed stiffly in some Sears studio. Clark is wearing a University of Chicago sweatshirt, and Eddie bets it grinds Laura’s gears that the kid is moving closer to his sister next year. 

“What a bitch,” he agrees. “Didn’t even call you for the photoshoot.”

Chrissy lets out another half-giggling sob.

“No, the letter!” 

Eddie unfolds the paper. Scans the bullshit about Laura’s church groups and Phillip’s promotion. He takes longer with Clark and discovers that Laura wants their friends and relations to believe he’s studying engineering, though Eddie knows he wants to be an English major. 

Below all of that, though, is the reason Chrissy’s laugh-crying in a closet. 

Our daughter, Christine, has spent the majority of 1992 volunteering with charitable organizations in the inner city.

He can’t help it. He cackles. “Guess I’m charitably organized, huh?” 

“Like I don’t have a job! Like we didn’t get married! Like I’m not… like she doesn’t know I’m pregnant!” 

“Chris,” he says, and he helps her up as he talks. “She doesn’t know you’re pregnant.” 

“But that’s… well. She knows we’re married.” 

“Sure, and I’m pretty sure she called the county clerk to try to get it annulled.” 

Chrissy fixes him with a scowl as he sits her down on the bed, then settles next to her, palm pressing against the scant bump that’s gonna be their daughter. Or son. He goes back and forth. (Before her first ultrasound, he told her he hoped it was twins, and she threatened to castrate him.)

“She’s just a jerk,” she says again, softening when Eddie touches her stomach. “She sent this to be spiteful.” 

“She’s a spiteful person. We already knew that.” 

“Yeah.” Chrissy gets quiet, her hand coming to rest on top of his. “It’s… I mean. Okay. So what if we just…” 

“Spit it out, pal.” 

“Well, like mother, like daughter, right?” 

So, they make a card of their own. A special one, just for Laura, containing a Polaroid of the two of them. They each have one hand on Chrissy’s belly, with the other lofted, flipping her the bird.

Volunteer This, Chrissy scrawls inside the card before she slaps on a stamp, and Eddie takes it to the mailbox.

[idontgettechnology]

Hellcheer Christmas Countdown: Day Seven

Finally caught up!

Prompt: Exchanging Gifts

The recliner squeaked as Wayne leaned forward to stand up, but Eddie held out a hand. “Hold up, old man,” he said as he got up and crossed back to the small aluminum tree in the corner. “You’ve got one more.”

“Old man…” his uncle muttered while Chrissy giggled from her place on the couch. He eyed the box Eddie dropped into his hands. “What’s this?”

“Let me tell you so we can totally miss the point of wrapping and opening gifts,” Eddie retorted as he sat back down and draped his arm around Chrissy’s shoulders.

“I meant what’s this because you two already spoiled me this year,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “Smart ass.”

“It’s not spoiling,” Chrissy said firmly. “You’re just easy to buy for so you get all the best gifts.” She waited until he looked her way before she nodded to the box in his hands. “And this isn’t anything big,” she promised, resisting the urge to bounce with anticipation.

“Not yet, anyway,” Eddie added with a smile. He pretended to be wounded when she jabbed her elbow into his side. “Sorry,” he coughed. “Just open it.”

Wayne eyed the two of them with suspicion before he shook his head and began to unwrap, careful as he always was not to tear the paper. He opened the top of the box and looked inside. His lips slid to one side with a smile. “Here I thought you decided I had enough of these,” he said as he pulled the mug free from its tissue paper.

“Never,” Eddie scoffed.

Chrissy held her breath as Wayne turned the cup in his hand to read the message. “World’s Greatest…” he stopped and looked up at her for confirmation. “Grandpa?”  She nodded, doing her best to bite back her smile. “You mean you two are—”

“We’re havin’ a baby,” Eddie exclaimed. The words he’d been dying to say since she’d told him a month ago.

Chrissy felt her smile drop as Wayne looked down at the mug in his hands again and her stomach gave a nervous twist. “You don’t have to be ‘Grandpa’ if you don’t want,” she said finally. “We just thought that— Well…since my parents aren’t in the picture and you’re really more of a—”

The sound of a sniffle cut her off. Wayne looked up again, his blue eyes glassy even in the dim living room light. “No, no, that’s—uh—” he sniffed again and blinked rapidly. “No, I think Grandpa sounds just fine.” He set the mug to the side and moved again to stand up.

Chrissy was first on her feet and put her arms around him before he could stop her. She felt her own heart squeeze and her eyes welled when he hugged her back and kissed the top of her head. He was already pointing at Eddie when she let him go. “From that baby, I mean,” he said firmly. “If I hear you say it,” he motioned back to Chrissy, “the two of them are the only ones welcome back here next Christmas.”

@hellcheerxmas

[doubtingthomasin]

🎀✨🎄 Dec. 10 - Scarf 🎄✨🎀

@hellcheerxmas

"Aren't you cold?" Chrissy has asked Eddie almost every day since the weather turned.

And his answer is always, "Nothing I can't handle, princess."

But she feels off about it. She knows leather holds in heat, so his torso's fine. Yet even with his long hair, she can't help but notice how red the tips of his ears get against the rest of his pale skin. Being bundled up in fuzzy socks, heavy coat, scarf, mittens, and earmuffs, she's feels something beyond selfishness.

After a few weeks, she just can't stand it anymore. He's walked her out to her car every day since she broke up with Jason ("Don't want that asshat bothering you any more than he already does.") so she figures it really is the least she can do.

One day, out of the blue, she walks up to Eddie in the hallway, unaware and unfazed by anyone who might be staring.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He cocks his head to the side as she produces a small dark blue box from behind her back, pushing it toward him.

"I don't think it'll clash with your look," she muses, biting her lip nervously as he slowly opens the gift.

"Oh, wait—am I supposed to wait 'til Christmas?"

He has that handsome, crooked grin on his lips and she giggles. "Just open it, silly."

He does so, unfurling a full-length black knit scarf and staring half in awe. Chrissy waits with bated breath for his response. "Chrissy, this is...this is—"

"I-It's nothing," she stutters. "I just...wanted to make sure you're not cold. Or that you don't catch one." She talks slower, feeling she may have gone a bit far, that it might be inappropriate to buy him something so early into their relationship.

But he looks at her with wide, unguarded eyes before dropping the box and wrapping her in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. She squeals when he growls with delight, letting her go as he examines her gift. "I didn't know a scarf could be so...pretty."

"You really like it?" she asks, relieved.

"I really do," he assures her, "thank you so much." He dons the scarf, wrapping it loosely twice around his neck. "And it doesn't clash at all, baby."

She kisses him on the cheek, overjoyed as they walk arm in arm out to her car. He wears the scarf every cold day of that winter season, and every chilly day they're together for years to come.

[a-strange-inkling]

Day 22: Christmas Dinner

Chicago, Illinois 1988

“You’re hogging her!” Wayne exclaims from where he’s sitting on the couch, his hands out impatiently. “Let me hold that little munchkin.”

“No!” Eddie replies just as fiercely, only half joking when he tucks his infant daughter closer to him. “You just had her! She’s mine! I made her!”

“And I kept you alive long enough so you could make her, boy, you owe me,” Wayne counters warningly as he stands. “I can still kick your ass, you know, now hand her over!”

“No! Chrissy!” Eddie calls, putting up his foot to stop his uncle. “He’s trying to take my baby from me!”

“You get to hold her all the time, let Wayne have a turn.” she tells him from where she’s working in the kitchenette. “I need your help over here anyway.”

“You heard her!” Wayne quips.

Eddie puffs out a good natured smile, rising from where he and Olivia were cozy in the armchair and gently passing her to her great uncle.

Wayne chuckles in triumph and delight when those beautiful dark orbs turn up to him. Livvy’s a sweet, quiet child, all eyes. “Precious little blessing,” he coos, sitting back down with her. “Good lord, this brings me back.”

“Baby thief.” Eddie mutters, coming up behind Chrissy, who’s straining boiling water out of a pot. “Just watch, he’ll never give her back now.”

“He’s only got her till tomorrow afternoon.” she points out with a smile. “You let him hold that baby as long as he’d like.”

“Ugh, fine…” he mumbles. “What do you need me to do, sweetheart?” he scratches the top of her head from behind, making her smile up at him, arching her head up like a cat at his touch.

“You can start mashing… Oh! Check your chicken first!” she replies hastily.

He winks back at her as he grabs an oven mit. “I’m never going to live down last year, am I?”

“…You did set it on fire.” she giggles as he peers into their little oven. The bird is getting golden, but no grease fire in sight. Always a plus.

“Yeah, well, I’ve already set myself on fire this year,” he reminds her, motioning towards his hair with a tight smile. “Hopefully I’ve met my quota.”

“Please, do you know how many times he almost set the trailer on fire, Chrissy?” Wayne asks, in between making faces at Livvy, coaxing a quirky little smile out of her. “Take a guess.”

“Heh, just go ahead and tell her,” Eddie claps back at him with a grin and a careless wave of his hand as he starts mashing the boiled potatoes. “She can’t leave now, she’s bound by contract.”

“I’m going to say…” Chrissy looks him up and down. He wriggles his brows at her playfully. “Five.”

“Nine.” Wayne corrects.

“Eddie!” she gasps in astonishment.

“Nine?” Eddie snaps his head up in confusion. “Please, it was only ever seven.”

“You’re forgetting the pop tart,” Wayne reminds him. “And that time your dang amp overheated.”

“Oh, yeah…” he admits with a small snicker, looking upward in amusement.

“Are you counting the time when he built that bonfire…”

Eddie clears his throat loudly, shooting Chrissy a sharp warning look, making her slap a hand over her mouth, muffling a laugh.

They all sit down at their little table with the traditional Munson spread of roast chicken, refrigerated dinner rolls, mashed potatoes and green bean casserole. A meal Wayne always managed to put together for Eddie every year, despite his grueling hours at the plant. Quaint, but very hearty. Chrissy loves this meal because last Christmas was the first one where she was able to eat as much as she wanted.

“Christ, Ed, you were such a troublemaker.” Wayne muses as he hands Olivia to Chrissy so she can strap her into her highchair. “This little one is much too sweet for the likes of you.”

Eddie smiles smugly at that, remembering all of those times he was picked up at the school or the hospital or the police station and how Wayne would rant the whole way home about how he couldn’t wait for him to someday have a kid of his own so that they would put him through everything that he put Wayne through.

“Heh, that’s right! I lucked out, old man, she’s an angel, just like her mother.” Eddie crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair. “Guess they're just not getting those messages of yours upstairs.”

“You just wait, kid.” Wayne points his fork at him. “I’m praying on my knees every night for your next child to be a little boy just like you.”

@hellcheerxmas

[a-strange-inkling]

Day 16: Tradition

Chicago, Illinois 1986

“No,” Eddie shakes his head wildly, curls whipping back and forth. “Nope! Absolutely not!”

“Just a little?” Chrissy asks, sliding over to sit on his knee, her bottom lip swelling as she wraps her arms around his neck.

Very, very, cute. But, still no.

“Come on boy, it’s a family tradition,” Wayne objects, already a little slurred, reaching for the mason jar to fill a glass for her. “One shot after dinner, just let her try some.”

“Noooo!” Eddie replies, snagging it from him. It’s always concerning when he’s the voice of reason in the room. “I find myself a nice girl and you’re trying to fucking poison her, old man.”

“Excuse me, boy, you watch that mouth.” he scolds. “It’s Christmas!”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Of course he’s still sober enough to reprimand him.

“Aren’t I family?” she asks in a tiny voice, really overselling it with the big sad eyes and fluttery eyelashes. God help him.

He gives her waist a little squeeze to placate her. “Of course you’re family, sweetheart,” he consoles. “But you’re also a hundred and eight pounds and the strongest drink you’ve ever had is ginger ale.”

Her pout becomes less sad and more petulant. “I’ve had a vodka cranberry before.”

“A half of a vodka cranberry and that almost did you in.” he chuckles, taking her chin in his hand. “Don’t make that face, you know I can never deny you anything, so believe me when I say that this is too rough, baby.”

“But, I just want to try the tiniest bit.” she whispers, pressing her forehead against his, pinching her finger and thumb as close as possible without touching to demonstrate just how tiny she means.

He pulls back and looks her dead in the eye. “No.”

“Eddie!” she whines. “C’mon!”

“If she’s going to be a Munson, she needs to try it at least once. It’s a rite of passage.” Wayne insists. “Our girl is tough as nails; she can handle it!”

“See!” she cries, shaking his shoulder. “Wayne says it’s fine!”

“That’s because Wayne is toasted after two shots! Wayne!” Eddie tells her pointedly, holding up the jar for her to see, the clear liquid sloshing around inside. “Honey, this isn’t your regular everyday hard liquor, okay? It’s handmade, southern, backwoods acid.” he explains. “It’s pure moonshine. It burns holes inside your guts. You know all the shit I’ve done and tried, and I swear to God, this this is the nastiest stuff I have ever put in my body.”

She stares at it for a few seconds, then looks back at up at him. “Just a little drop?”

“Oh my God,” he sighs, head falling back in exasperation.

“Good lord, you know you’re going to cave eventually, just let her have some.” Wayne grumbles.

“Please.” she draws out at that sweet high octave that makes him absolutely crazy.

Eddie groans under his breath before snapping his head back up. “You know what, hot shot? Fine, you can take a sip off the top of mine, but just a sip, you hear me?”

She nods eagerly as he pours his shot glass.

If Eddie was a smarter man, he’d have taken his shot first and left her a little leftover to sip. But he did repeat the twelfth grade three times and this concept doesn’t come to him until after he hands her the full glass and she chucks it all back in one go.

“Woaw! Hey! Holy shit!”

@hellcheerxmas

[a-strange-inkling]

Day 3: Chimney

New York, New York 1994

“What did you do?” he scream whispers, hands rising slowly to his head, gripping his hair.

“I was looking for Santa,” she whispers excitedly back, her pearly teeth flashing, blue eyes sparkling beneath the powdery gray and black.

Eddie stares at his four-year-old in horror for almost thirty full seconds. She’s gotten herself into worse trouble, he’s fairly sure of it, but nothing is coming to mind at present as he takes her in, covered head to toe in ashes and soot.

It was one minute, he swears, she was out of his sight for one minute. Randy told her there were Christmas cookies on a tray in the living room if she would like some and Eddie said it was fine as long as she came right back to the office after.

“Mags, Maggie, Margaret,” he nearly wheezes, hands reaching to pick her up, only to pull back, realizing it will get all over him too. He instead covers his mouth, slowly kneeling to the ground. “Why?”

“Because I was looking…”

“For Santa, right… oh my sweet, darling, angel…” he inhales through his teeth.

Of course, she’s wearing her pretty white collar dress with a matching ribbon, because Chrissy knew that he had a meeting with Randy uptown at his fancy brownstone townhouse to update some contracts.

“Sorry, Ed,” Randy chuckles nervously from beside him. “I thought the fireplace was locked up.”

She looks like she’s been coal mining for eight years in the Appalachians. Every surface is covered.

“Your mother is going to kill me.” he rasps out, hands sliding down to his throat. “Baby, it’s even in your hair, how is it…?”

It looks like she rolled around in it, Jesus Christ.

“I climbed!” she tells him proudly.

“You what!?”

“Up the chimney, but then I fell down,” she turns around to show him the back of her which is just as bad as the front.

Clean hands be damned, he moves forward on his knees, checking her over for bruises and broken bones. “Next time lead with that, Maggie!” he squeals hastily. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m okay, I didn’t make it very high,”

He checks her head, and her back. She seems uninjured, which is a relief. He grabs her tiny head between his hands. “You’re making me go gray, kid.” he tells her, looking down at himself, the front of his dress shirt now covered in ashes too. “Literally.”

…

Retracing his steps, he should have predicted something like this would go down when Maggie’s eyes lit up as they walked through Randy’s living room the first time, she even said something along the lines of “That’s a big fireplace.” To which his manager innocently responded: “Yep, all ready for Santa to climb down.”

Eddie knows somewhere in Indiana, Wayne is smiling and he doesn’t even know why.

When they reach their floor, Eddie rolls his shoulders, glancing down at his soot covered child. This is doable, all he has to do is sneak her in without Chrissy or Olivia seeing and throw her in the tub. No problem.

He holds up a finger to his lips pointedly at Maggie who mirrors the action with a nod. She knows the plan. He’s thankful it’s not Livvy, she would have caved immediately. But then she would never have attempted to scale up a chimney either.

He opens the front door. “Hey,” he calls, hoping to hear her whereabouts. “We’re home!”

“How’d it go?” Chrissy replies.

Nice, sounds like she’s in their bedroom.

“Good!” he answers, quickly picking Maggie up under her arms and bolting towards the bathroom. “Really good!”

“Maggie behave herself?”

They freeze when Livvy looks up from the couch where she’s quietly reading her book on manatees next to Arwen who is snoozing in a little ball. Her mouth falls open when she spots them.

They both make frantic signals for her to stay quiet.

“Oh, yeah, perfect angel!” Eddie covers, eyes staying on Livvy.

Don’t make a sound!

Wincing, she purses her lips, raising her hand in warning, but it’s in vain. As Eddie reaches for the bathroom door, it suddenly opens.

Chrissy is very silent and still as she takes them both in. She slowly crosses her arms as she looks down at Maggie.

“Hi, Mom.” she greets, smiling innocently.

Her eyes then flick up to Eddie, tilting her head to the side, lips forming a questioning side pout.

“Hi, Mom,” he mimics, giving her the exact same smile.

[a-strange-inkling]

Day 2: Santa Hat

Hawkins Indiana, 1985

No, no, no, no…

Why is this happening to him?

What has he ever done wrong?

Okay, universe, no need to answer that. He knows he doesn’t deserve her by a long shot, but God, he doesn’t deserve this.

This is torture.

The senior cheer squad is spreading “Christmas Cheer”—Jesus H Christ— bounding through the halls of Hawkins High, giving away little homemade ornaments with wintergreen and butterscotch candies for the school colors.

They’re all decked in their winter uniforms with matching green Santa hats.

Fucking Santa hats!

He groans softly as he opens his locker to exchange textbooks, averting his eyes or rather trying to avert his eyes. Someone just kill him now. Like she isn’t cute enough.

Sinking into his hardened shell, he keeps his back to them as they near with their chanted rhetoric “Happy Holidays! Go Tigers!” uplifting all the dreary spirits wandering to their next class with sugar and pep.

He thinks he’s in the clear once he’s heard all the chipper chirping move down along the halls, only to freeze over when he closes his locker.

Chrissy’s right there.

In her little hat.

Holy shit.

He stares down at her silently as she gives him a small, nervous smile, making his blood race to his ears, thankfully hidden beneath the dark waves of his hair. She reaches into her bag, holding out an ornament with the attached candies for him to take.

He should probably do something. Like breathe maybe. Goddamn it, she smells like vanilla and flowers.

“…thanks.” he murmurs dazedly, finally taking it.

“Merry Christmas.” she whispers quietly, ducking her head, and he swears he sees something akin to a blush dusting her cheeks.

“Yeah, you too.”

She skips along after her team, leaving him dumbstruck in the middle of the hallway.

With a sigh, he lands his forehead heavily against his locker. Jesus Fuck!

Later that night, when he gets home from Hellfire, he hangs the ornament on the shoddy little tree Wayne put up in the corner of the trailer.

“What’s that?” Wayne asks from where he’s watching tv on the couch.

“Christmas cheer.” Eddie responds with a smile, sucking on a butterscotch.