Fall had arrived suddenly in New Haven. The air was brisk, the bright colors of the leaves shining in the sunlight. I was on the train, heading into the city for an interview at the New York Times. I was trying to stay calm, but I couldn't. Chances to interview for a position at one of the many popular newspapers in the East Coast didn't just fall in your lap. I clutched my steaming Starbucks cup, taking sips as the train bumped along the tracks.

After stepping out of the subway station onto the sidewalks of Manhattan, I calmed down much more. I walked for about six blocks until I found the Times' building. I took the elevator up to the fourth floor. “Ponyboy Curtis,” I introduced myself to the secretary. “I have an interview at eight o'clock with with Matthew Stevenson.” the secretary rummaged through a large metal file cabinet and pulled out a sheet of paper. She looked over it. “You can take a seat over there,” she motioned to a row of wooden benches up against the wall. “I'll go tell Mr. Stevenson that you're here.”

“Ponyboy Curtis.” Mr. Stevenson reached out to shake my hand. He was a tall, balding man with a bit of stubble. He was wearing khakis, loafers, and a light blue button-down shirt. He seemed nice. “Come on in, take a seat. What can I get for you? Tea? Coffee?” he gestured to two kettles, a blue and a green, that were sitting on a small wooden table. “No, thank you,” I assured him. “I'm all set.”

“So, Ponyboy,” Mr. Stevenson looked up at me from the papers on his desk. “Tell me about yourself. What other newspapers have you worked for in the past?” I took a sip of my coffee. “I'm originally from Tulsa, but I moved to New Haven with my wife about five years ago. I started working with some of the local papers there, to get some experience. After my kids were born, I got a job with the Wall Street Journal. After three years of working there, I realized that I wasn't making enough money to support my family, so I left the company.” Mr. Stevenson reclined back in his chair, glasses at the edge of his nose. “Okay. Let's see here...” He flipped through the stack of papers on his desk. “What strengths do you bring to the Times, and why are you the right person for this job?”
“I have a very good work ethic. I have published numerous books and articles as well. I have strengths in communicating with others, and I work well under pressure, which I think will come in handy with deadlines.” I replied confidently.  Mr. Stevenson nodded. “Very good.”  He stood up and shook my hand. “Ponyboy, it has been nice meeting you.”
“It was nice meeting you, too. I look forward to hearing from you, Mr. Stevenson.” I replied.

It was about a twenty-minute trip back up to New Haven. When I stepped back into my house I was almost knocked over my the hugs of my two kids, Hazel and Caleb. “How was the interview?” Caleb mumbled into my shirt. I looked down at him and tousled his thick brown curls. “Hey, stinker. It went well.”
“That's good.” Cherry was standing in the kitchen, still in her pajamas, holding a steaming coffee mug. Her fiery red hair was pulled back in a messy bun, with some loose pieces of hair tucked behind her ears. She kissed me. “You hungry? I have some leftover bacon.” I nodded, loosening my tie. “Yeah, I'll have some of that.”

That afternoon, I called Darry and Sodapop. They had been wanting to hear about the interview. “Ponyboy, I am so proud of you,” Darry said. “You know how hard it is to get an interview like that?” I chuckled. “Very hard. How about you? How's Anna?” Anna, Darry's wife, had been diagnosed with stage two breast cancer last spring. She had gotten surgery in July, and had been cancer-free for the past four months. “She's doing well. I've been working a lot, so we haven't gotten to talk much.” Darry had started his own roofing business, and had about five or six guys working for him.
“Take care, Pony, and I hope you get the job.” Darry said.
“Thanks, Darry.”
Next, I called Soda. “Curtis residence,” a husky voice answered the phone. “Hey, Soda. It's Pony.” I could feel my brother breaking into a grin. “Hey! How'd the interview go? You get jumped at all on the way home?” I laughed. Ever since I started working in the city, there had been these teenagers who tried to jump me every time I got off the train in the evening. “No, Soda, but I got really close.” Soda made one of those “Mm hmm” noises. “What got them away?”
“A quick slide to the right and the old switchblade.” I replied casually.
“That's my little brother! Now, back to business. How'd the interview go?”
“Like a typical job interview. Lots of questions and multiple references to football.” I said.
“Okay. Hey! We got some new horses at the ranch, and we have  a new foal.” Soda had been working at a ranch in Denver for about two years. “How's Kristen?” I asked. “She's doing great, almost at twenty-five weeks.” Soda said.
“Can you hold on for a second? Cherry's been wanting to know.”
“Yeah, sure.” I put my hand over the speaker and called, “Cherry! Kristen's almost at twenty-five weeks!” I heard a whoop. “Woo hoo!” Cherry called back. “Tell Soda I said hi, okay?” I took my hand off the speaker. “Cherry says woo hoo and she wants you to know that she says hi.” Soda coughed. “I gotta go, Pony. Kristen needs help with the laundry.”
“Okay, take care, Soda.” I said.
“Take care,” Soda hung up.

The next week, I got a phone call from Mr. Stevenson. I had gotten the job. When Cherry heard the news, she immediately called everyone in the family, including her mom, who probably doesn't even know what the New York Times is. “Pony, we have to celebrate somehow,” Cherry told me. “How about steak and potatoes for dinner?” I nodded. “Sounds good. Should I help with anything?” Cherry flipped through the stack of recipes and pulled out a sheet of paper. She skimmed it over and set it on the counter. “I don't think I need help now, but thanks for asking.”
On Friday, I came home from work to the delicious smells of tender spiced meat and roasted potatoes wafting through the house. “Daddy,” Hazel said through a mouthful of potato. “When is Christmas?” I set my fork down. “Well, it's next month. Did you have an idea of what you were going to ask Santa for?” Hazel nodded, her bright green eyes wide with excitement. “Yeah, I know. But I'm only telling mommy because she works for Santa. Right mommy?” Cherry smiled across the table at Hazel. “Yes, Hazel, you're right. When do I get to give Santa your Christmas list?” Hazel chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Um... tomorrow. Yeah, I'll give you my list tomorrow so that Santa can see my list first.” Cherry nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

I woke to the scents of frying bacon and hazelnut coffee. It was a chilly December morning, a Saturday. “Ponyboy! Breakfast's ready!” I swung myself out of bed, put on my slippers, and went downstairs. Hazel and Caleb were sitting at the kitchen table, eating scrambled eggs and bacon. “Good Morning,” Cherry kissed me and handed me a mug of coffee. I yawned. It was December seventeenth. We were leaving for Denver in two days for Christmas. Darry, Anna, and their twelve-year-old daughter Leah were flying out to Denver too from Tulsa. We would be staying with Sodapop and Kristen at their house. Darry and his family would be staying at a hotel.
We got to Soda and Kristen's house around six-thirty on the nineteenth. Soda answered the door. “Hey guys! Come on in, Kristen's just finished making dinner.” We put our suitcases by the stairs and headed to the kitchen.
“Hey, guys!” Kristen said when she saw us. Cherry hoisted Caleb up on her hip and hugged Kristen one-arm style. Kristen did the same, her hand resting on her swollen belly. “Hazel, did you get bigger?” Kristen asked. Hazel shrugged. “I don't know.”

“ I made grilled chicken, a salad, and some roasted sweet potatoes.” Kristen said as she got out plates and silverware. “And I think we're going to eat in the dining room if that's all right with you guys.”
“Yeah, that's fine with us.” Cherry said.

“So, the plan for Christmas,” Cherry said. “Anyone got an idea of how it's going to look?” Soda took a bite of chicken and chewed it thoughtfully. “I think that we're going to start making the food about thirty minutes to an hour before Darry's clan shows up, except for the turkey, which we'll put in the oven in the morning so it can be cooking all day. That way, people can talk before dinner is ready and they won't have to wait as long for their food.” Kristen skewered a piece of potato and held it on her fork, then ate it. “Sounds like a good plan, Soda. Christmas day, we'll just have everyone come over in the morning and open presents here.”

It was a cold, snowy Christmas Eve. I was sitting in the front seat of that car, Cherry and the kids were in the back. We were driving to Cherry's mom's place to pick her up. Then, we'd head back to Soda and Kristen's for dinner.
“Hey, momma, Merry Christmas.” Cherry called as we pulled up into the driveway. Eugenia Valence was a short woman, her reddish-gray hair pulled up into a knot at the back of her head. Her eyes were a warm chocolate brown. “How long have you been standing out here waiting for us?” Cherry said as she helped the old woman into the car. Eugenia shrugged. “Well, I walked out of the house and got to the driveway, and then I stood there. After about two minutes, your car pulled up.” Cherry nodded. “Good, so not that long.” Eugenia smiled. “Don't worry about me Cherry. I've been living through these freezing Colorado winters for a while now. I'm used to it.”

“Dinner's ready!” Kristen called from the kitchen. We all rushed to get a spot in line for food. There were spicy roasted green beans, fluffy mashed potatoes, warm and gooey sweet potatoes, rich gravy, and in the center of it all- the huge succulent turkey, cooked in the oven for the entire day.

After dinner, Soda and I helped clean the dishes with Kristen. “That was an amazing dinner, Kristen.” Soda kissed the top of her head. Kristen smiled, her arms up to the elbow in soapy water. “Thanks, Soda.” She set the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. “I think I'll go sit down.” She headed for the door, and suddenly clutched at her swollen belly. “Ahhh,” Kristen moaned. “Ooh. Soda. I think it's time.” She grimaced and looked down. A puddle of liquid had formed around her ankles. Kristen's water had broken. Soda ran to her side and helped her stand upright. “Okay, I'll get you to the car. Pony, go upstairs and get the red suitcase on the bed and then bring that out to the car.” I ran upstairs, and within two minutes,  I was outside, heading towards the car. Soda took the bag from me. “Thanks, Ponyboy.” Kristen leaned over in the back seat. “Yeah, what Soda said.” She groaned again, and gasped. “Soda, are we going to leave and have this baby or what? I don't think I have very long!” Soda slid into the car. “Yes, we're going, don't worry.” They pulled out of the driveway.

We got the news of the baby the next morning. Soda called and said that Kristen had delivered a healthy baby girl named Claire. Soda said that they would send out a picture of the baby as soon as possible.
When we got back to New Haven, there was a card from Kristen in the mailbox, as well as a picture of Claire. She was adorable. She had the normal baby features; the fat legs and arms, the tiny ears, nose, and soft feet. Her eyes were a icy blue, her hair a light coffee brown. I passed the picture to Cherry, who promptly went “Awww, she's so squishy! Look at those feet!” I picked up the card and read it:

Dear Ponyboy, Cherry, Hazel, and Caleb,
We loved seeing you all at Christmas. Hope you got the picture of Claire. She's adorable, right? I guess that's just the new mom vibe working through me...
I just started reading this book of poems that I got for Christmas last week, and I came across this one by Robert Frost, it's called “Nothing gold can stay.” I don't know if you guys have heard of it before. It sort of reminds me of how things only last for a certain amount of time, like people, you know? It's like the poem is saying that we are only granted so much time here on Earth, and we should live every day to the fullest, right?
Well, I thought that it was an interesting poem...
Okay, we love y'all and we'll see you guys next Thanksgiving!
  Lots of love,
Kristen, Sodapop, and Claire

I looked up from the card and wiped my eyes. I had been crying.  I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Cherry. “Hey, Pony, is everything all right?” She asked. I said nothing, and handed her the card. She read over it, and then looked up at me, tears shining in her eyes. “Oh, Pony,” She rubbed my back. “I didn't realize-”
“Cherry, I think I'm just going to go upstairs.” I cut her off and went inside. I sat down on my bed and put my head in my hands. “Hey, Johnny,” I looked up at the ceiling. “Hope everything's okay up there...” I sniffed and held back the next round of sobs. “You're probably up there, sitting down somewhere with Dally, eating some kind of food.” I laughed. “I sound so stupid right now, talking to the ceiling...” I grinned. “Well, I guess I'd better get going. Bye, Johnnycake.” I got up and left the bedroom, shutting the hard wooden door behind me. Right then, I knew that this was the start of something. Something that was destined to be great. All I had to do was do what Johnny Cade had told me those twenty years ago. Stay gold.