The Christmas Child (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza)

by Penny Musco

  She caught her breath at the warmth in his deep gray eyes.

  “I hadn’t thought it possible, but you grow more beautiful every year, Hannah, and it’s not just the clothes.”

  Flustered, she turned away to reach for her gloves and shallow-brimmed hat. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

  They said little to each other as the hansom cab bowled north on Fifth Avenue. The lanterns by the driver’s seat threw off little pools of light, but Hannah couldn’t quite make out Robert’s face in the growing dusk. After a while, the trees of Central Park appeared up ahead, and then the carriage stopped in front of an imposing limestone façade.

  Robert alighted quickly and spoke to the driver, arranging for him to meet them later at the opera. Then he helped Hannah down.

  They stood on the sidewalk for a moment and surveyed the mansion. Elegant columns framed a portico with wide marble steps and a massive set of polished wooden doors. Four large, draped windows faced the street on the first floor, with six each on the second and third stories.

  Hannah drew in a deep breath and smoothed her dress.

  “No need to be nervous,” Robert said, lightly grasping her elbow to escort her to the entrance. “Mr. Duff is a fine gentleman, and I’m sure Mrs. Duff will be every bit as gracious.”

  He was probably speaking as much to himself as to Hannah since this was the first time they had ever socialized with his boss.

  They surrendered their wraps to the liveried butler who answered their knock and were left in the parlor to await their hosts. Hannah turned toward the windows, but heavy curtains blotted out the view of the park. Furniture crowded the room—Chinese tables and stands, each bearing numerous ornaments, knickknacks, and lamps, also of Eastern design, wedged between tufted chairs edged with tassels. Oil and watercolor landscapes covered the dark papered walls. The effect was smothering.

  “How delightful of you to come!” The middle-aged Mrs. Duff swept in suddenly. “Welcome to our home! Carson has told me so much about you, Mr. Jessup, and this must be your wife.”

  “Thank you for inviting us,” Robert replied smoothly. “We’ve been eager to meet you.”

  Mrs. Duff looked much like her furnishings. Her brocade gown was decorated with long fringe and trimmed in scrolls of lace and beads with golden artificial flowers and more beads woven through her elaborate coiffeur.

  At a nudge from Robert, she found her voice. “I...I see you favor the Oriental fashion, Mrs. Duff. Have you ever traveled to that part of the world?”

  “Oh my, yes. Quite recently, as a matter of fact, and I hope it will be my first and last time! They’re very backward there, and one can hardly find a decent thing to eat. And the facilities! Well, I won’t go into details, of course, but they are very primitive. Oh, Carson, here you are at last!” she finished breathlessly.

  The deeply jowled bank president strode forward and engulfed Robert’s hand in his meaty one. “Glad you could come, Jessup, and bring the Mrs.” He nodded at Hannah.

  “Shall we go in? Dinner is ready.” Mrs. Duff took her husband’s arm, and Hannah and Robert followed, exchanging amused glances.

  The dining room was much the same as the parlor, filled with dark oak furniture, including a substantial sideboard strewn with a number of figurines. Plate rails flanked a tall fireplace, displaying what Hannah suspected were heirloom pieces.

  “We can look forward to a wonderful evening, I think,” Mr. Duff said as they settled around the large table. Two maids immediately began to serve the first course. “The Metropolitan Opera lost too much money in its first seasons doing Italian opera. It turned to doing the cheaper German pieces, and now is starting on the French! We’ll be seeing ‘Faust’ tonight.”

  “I don’t believe I’m familiar with that story,” Robert said between sips of turtle soup.

  “It’s the classic tale of good versus evil, a man selling his soul for youth, and in the process, destroying everything and everyone around him. The music is supposed to be outstanding.”

  “It reminds me of what Jesus said: ‘For what is a man advantaged, if he gain the whole world, and lose himself, or be cast away?’” Hannah commented.

  The rest of the party fell silent. The Duffs stared at her; Robert’s gaze was riveted on his soup plate.

  Hannah carefully put down her spoon. “It’s a verse from the Gospel of Luke in the Bible.”

  Mrs. Duff spoke first. “Of course, my dear, we’ve heard it before in church. It isn’t often, though, that one hears it at the dinner table.”

  Robert looked up. “Perhaps we should.”

  Surprised, Hannah gave him a tiny, grateful smile. Was it possible that he had been paying attention to everything she’d said, after all?

  “But opera is more entertaining than a sermon!” Mr. Duff guffawed. “I’d much rather attend an evening out than sit through a service with the stuffed shirt we have for a minister, but then, we must fulfill our religious obligations.”

  “Our faith is a duty in a way, and up until a few months ago, I too, found it to be something of a burden,” Hannah responded. “But through the preaching of Mr. Moody, I found a personal relationship with our Savior, and have since felt it a joy.”

  “That’s very nice, dear,” Mrs. Duff replied. “No doubt you’ve been affected by the fervor that so often comes when young people hear well-known personalities preach. I was caught up in the tremendous excitement of the seventies, which I believe some call the Third Great Awakening. I remember I was quite moved by a number of religious talks then, but eventually I settled down. Do you remember, Carson?”

  “Indeed I do, Lillian! You distracted me no end just as I was making my way up the ladder in the banking world.” Mr. Duff winked at Robert. “Just see to it that it doesn’t happen to you, young man!”

  Hannah sat in stunned silence while the maids cleared away the first course dishes and served a baked bass. Her hosts seemed unaware that they had said anything out of the ordinary. But why should their attitude surprise her? Hadn’t she just admitted she once felt the same way?

  Robert had grown red in the face.

  As they ate, Mrs. Duff directed their attention to the numerous paintings that nearly concealed the flocked walls, and the conversation continued on in several different directions throughout the rest of the meal. They finished with a dessert course of French cream.

  Mr. Duff laid aside his napkin and rose from the table. “No time for cigars and brandy, I’m afraid, Jessup. Too bad. I have excellent vintages of both. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll arrange for our carriage and we’ll be off.”

  “Would you like to freshen up before we go?” Mrs. Duff asked Hannah.

  “No, thank you. We’ll wait in the parlor, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Duff went upstairs in a whirl of rich fabric, leaving the two of them standing alone again in the suffocating room.

  “Hannah, I’m sorry—“

  “What did you mean—“

  Robert reached for her hand. “You first.”

  “Did you really believe we should talk more about spiritual things?” she asked.

  “I thought the Duffs were very condescending toward you. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say more.”

  “Thank you for speaking up.”

  Robert cupped her face in his hands and caressed her cheeks, careful not to muss the golden curls that framed them. “Have I been that unfeeling, Hannah? I admit I don’t fully understand the changes that have come over you, but maybe I haven’t been listening well enough. I’ll try to do better, darling.”

  “Oh, Robert...” Tears gathered in her eyes. There was so much to say, and yet...

  A discreet cough caused them to spring apart in embarrassment. “Excuse me,” the butler announced from the parlor door, “but the carriage is ready.” He held out their coats and hats.

  The ride to the opera house did little to soothe Hannah’s nerves.

  Mr. Duff pointed out the mansions of the very w
ealthy and famous, including the palatial homes of the Astors and the Vanderbilts, while his wife supplied the latest gossip about them.

  Hannah was thankful when they finally stopped in front of the Metropolitan’s grand facade at Thirty-Ninth Street and Broadway. Her head had started to pound, and she hoped the music would be a pleasant respite from the couple’s constant chatter.

  No sooner had they settled into their box, though, when a steady stream of visitors proceeded in and out, even during the performance. Hannah lost count of the number of people to whom she and Robert were introduced. It seemed to her that the entire audience, the Duffs included, was far more interested in socializing than watching the opera. Once or twice, she caught Robert’s attention, and he too seemed to be struggling to show polite interest in the eddy of conversation around him while trying to follow the action on the stage.

  Merciful relief came when they finally stepped out into the fresh, cool night air, free from the noise and press of the fashionable throng crowding the stairs and lobby of the opulent opera house.

  Robert and his boss went to find their drivers while the women waited near the imposing entrance.

  Mrs. Duff called out to several acquaintances, whispering cutting asides about each one to Hannah. “Carson and I usually stroll along the new Madison Square Garden colonnade afterward,” she remarked after a few moments. “It’s quite the thing to do these days, you know. Would you care to join us?”

  “I’m afraid we’ll have to beg off tonight, Mrs. Duff. I have a terrible headache. Some other time, perhaps. Robert and I have enjoyed meeting you and seeing your lovely home. Thank you so much for dinner and the opera. I hope we’ll be able to return the favor soon.” It was the proper thing to say, even if it was the furthest thing from Hannah’s mind. She was saved from adding anything more by the arrival of their husbands.

  She and Robert bid their hosts a good night and gratefully climbed into their cab.

  As the driver pulled out into the thick traffic, Hannah nestled into a corner with a deep sigh and surveyed her husband. He had closed his eyes and leaned back on the leather seat, and the dim light from the streetlights perfectly highlighted his smooth, strong features. Hannah had observed several women glance appreciatively at him tonight, but he had seemed unaware of their admiring looks, as usual.

  Instead of heading home the cab swung north.

  Hannah stripped off a glove and reached over to touch Robert’s arm. “The park?”

  He pressed her hand but didn’t open his eyes. “Of course.”

  The rig entered Manhattan’s vast green space at 59th Street. Few other people or carriages were about, and the crisp clip-clop of the horses’ hooves echoed among the trees.

  “Remember?” Robert said softly.

  It felt good to laugh. “And to think we owe it all to Carolina!”

  Four years ago, Hannah and her friend had spent the day at the Central Park Zoo, taking in not only the animals, but also a pair of handsome young men whom they’d followed through the exhibits. Carolina had boldly flirted with them, finally asking if they would like to accompany them to see the swans on the lake. The taller of the two introduced himself as Robert Jessup, and he had drawn Hannah out in conversation while they went on to explore the waterfalls, groves, and the beautiful Ramble beyond.

  As the sun began its slow descent on that summer day, Hannah and Carolina bid a reluctant farewell to their companions, certain they would never see them again. But on the train going home, crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, they quite literally bumped into Robert, who explained that he lived in the city’s Heights section. Hannah had whispered to her friend that she suspected he was following them. When Carolina laughingly told Robert, he challenged Hannah to see for herself. It turned out that he had, indeed, lived only a few blocks from her, and a very embarrassed Hannah had been contrite.

  “I’ll accept your apology on one condition,” Robert had said. “That you allow me to call on you next week.”

  She agreed, and the park had figured prominently in their courtship. They’d enjoyed music concerts on the Mall, picnics in the North Meadow, and in the winter, they skated under Bow Bridge and went sleigh riding on the roads after heavy snows.

  Not many months later, Robert had gotten down on bended knee along a quiet promenade near Bethesda Fountain to propose to her. She had considered marrying in the park but settled for a garden wedding at her parents’ home almost a year to the day after they’d first met.

  But Central Park remained a special place for them, symbolizing the love that had begun and grown there. Now the horses plodded along the carriage paths carved into the lush landscape of the urban paradise. They passed the Carousel, its swings swaying in the light breeze, then the Common, listening to the soft noises of the sheep settling in for the night.

  Heedless of the driver’s presence, Robert slid next to Hannah and lifted her chin, bringing his mouth tantalizingly close to hers. His breath felt warm on her cool cheek. “You’re the dearest person in the world to me, Hannah. Please forgive me when I’m not the husband I should be. You have my heart now and forever. I hope you know that.” He commanded her lips with an intense yet gentle passion.

  She returned his tenderness willingly, savoring the moment with nothing between them, no unfulfilled dreams, frustrated hopes, or concealed worries. Hannah wished it could last forever.

  When he finally pulled away, Robert brushed away her tears with his fingertips. “What is it, my love?”

  Hannah determined to hold his steady gaze. “When you stood up for me tonight, I...I felt so loved and cherished. I know you don’t always agree with me about everything and yet—”

  Robert stopped her with a delicate touch. “Let it be just the two of us tonight, no worries, no cares, nothing between us but love,” he murmured, unknowingly reflecting her thoughts. He shifted slightly in his seat. “Driver, please take us home.”

  3

  The afternoon sun brightened the parlor as Hannah settled into a plush chair. The troubles that Robert had kissed away last night weighed heavily. She had lain awake long after he’d dropped off to sleep, eventually falling into an uneasy slumber.

  Apparently, Robert had decided to let her rest when he got up for work and had instructed Rosa not to rouse her either, because Hannah hadn’t opened her eyes until almost ten o’clock. As a result, her morning routine was entirely off. It wasn’t until after lunch, that she took the time for her devotions.

  She picked up her Bible from a cloth covered side table. Last year, this Book had meant practically nothing to her. She thought back to the circumstances that had changed her life, and half smiled. Carolina had a part in that, too...

  Last fall, her friend had taken it into her head that she wanted to attend a suffragist gathering at a church uptown and invited Hannah to accompany her.

  “I can’t possibly! What would I tell Robert? He doesn’t like them at all!”

  “Oh, he’ll never know.” Carolina dismissed her concerns with a wave of a dainty hand. “All you have to tell him is that you’re going to a ladies’ meeting.”

  Hannah couldn’t help but laugh. “You never fail to amaze me with the wealth of tricks you have up your sleeve. If I remember correctly, you were always the one who got us into trouble when we were children. But, tell me, how is it that this church is letting these ‘rabble rousers’ use their building?”

  “The speaker’s daddy is a very influential, very wealthy member of the congregation, and anything his darling wants, he gets for her, and anything he wants, the church gets for him. Now what do you say? I think it will be very entertaining.”

  Carolina finally persuaded her. The growing anxiety over not producing a child had begun to gnaw at Hannah, and maybe this was just the kind of diversion she needed. “All right, but you have to pick me up then bring me back before nine. Otherwise Robert will be suspicious.” As it turned out, she needn’t have worried.

  On the day of the meeting, Robert announced he had
plans to dine with Mr. Duff at the Union Club and wouldn’t be home until late.

  In the early afternoon, Carolina sent word that she was sick with a bad cold, but she was sending her own carriage for Hannah so she could attend and “report back.”

  Hannah was just about to return a note saying she wouldn’t go either but then realized she’d been looking forward to it. And so that evening, she waited for her ride in her tiny vestibule, frowning at the downpour outside. When the carriage pulled up, she selected a large umbrella from the stand and hurried to the door the driver held open. “You know where to go?” she asked as she climbed in.

  “Yes, ma’am.” When they arrived, the driver helped her down and promised to return before nine.

  Hannah flew up the steps to the church, and once inside, paused to shake the rain from her umbrella and cape. An unfamiliar tune was being heartily sung, and Hannah started when a man suddenly approached.

  “May I escort you to a seat, madam?” He courteously offered his arm.

  Flustered, Hannah nodded. She was even more surprised to see several males in the audience. Up front, a corpulent man advanced to the pulpit, his serious face framed with a white beard and sideburns, and full head of snowy hair.

  She turned to the older gentleman. “But...is this the...I mean, where are all the women?”

  He gave her a puzzled look and gestured with his hand. “There are a quite a few women here, and I assure you, you have nothing to fear.”

  “No, you don’t understand.” Hannah gathered up her courage. “Isn’t this the suffragist meeting?”

  This seemed to amuse the usher. “Mercy, no! This is Mr. Moody’s evangelistic crusade!”

  Hannah looked around in panic. “I must not be in the right church.”

  The usher cleared his throat. “From what I understand, that gathering is a few blocks north of here.”

  She rushed to the door and peered out into the deluge. In the distance, the carriage that had brought her turned the corner. She could always walk, but in this weather, the prospect held no appeal.

  “Madam.” The gentleman had followed her. “I don’t presume to know the state of your soul, but perhaps God has a reason for this mix up tonight. Won’t you stay?”