Katherine

by S. A. Glenn

  “You’re welcome, Katherine.”

  With another box in her hands, Katherine opened it, discovering a large bunch of fresh, deep-red strawberries. Picking out one of the giant juicy fruits, she sunk her teeth into it with little grace. “Oh, my goodness. Where did you get all this out-of-season fruit?” she asked, and then passed them around.

  “I have my connections.”

  Katherine held the biggest and final present in her grasp. Removing the wrapping, she took off the lid. As she looked down into the box, her smile turned to puzzlement. Gazing up at Samuel then her mother, she pulled out a black, solid mineral. She displayed the item in her hand with her brows raised. “Look, Mother. Samuel got me a lump of coal! Gee, I always wanted a lump of coal. Thanks, Sam.”

  “I just want you to stay warm, Kat,” he explained with a smirk, peering into the box. “What’s that under the paper?”

  “I don’t know.” Removing a page of newspaper, she found a small, flat box. She took it out and removed the top, discovering the most wonderful present of all. “Ohhh… Ohhh,” she mouthed, waving her hands at her eyes so they wouldn’t tear up. “This’s so—I don’t even know what the word for it is,” she declared, wiping away the tears that were running down her cheeks.

  “What is it?” questioned Sara, leaning forward in her chair and then stretched out her neck.

  Samuel knelt down in front of Katherine and took her hand. “I love you, Katherine… with all my heart and soul. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. So, I guess what I’m saying, or askin’ is: will you marry me?”

  Katherine’s face lit up with a heartfelt smile, tears ceasing. She went to her knees, meeting him face-to-face. Gazing deep into his awaiting eyes, she answered with passion. “I wouldn’t have it any other way: of course I will marry you.”

  They wrapped their arms around each other and joined lips, embracing the special moment. He took the object from the box and placed it onto her ring finger.

  “Let me see it… Let me see it, you two!” begged Sara.

  “Look, Mother. Isn’t it fabulous?” she declared, extending her arm to display the jewel.

  “It’s very appealing, Samuel. Oh, my! I can’t believe my little girl’s getting married!” Sara took in an eye full of the small, white diamond attached to its golden band.

  “It’s just a promise ring, Kat. I’ll get you another one for when we tie the knot.”

  “However you want to do it, Sam, that’s fine with me.”

  Silence fell over the place. Everyone appeared to hold a moment to grasp all that had happened that morning.

  Sara poured coffee and handed it out. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m hungry! I think I’ll start some grub. Oh, I almost forgot. Louis is stopping by—‘mid-morning’, he said. I hope you two don’t mind”

  “Not at all, Mother. The more the merrier.”

  “That’s fine, ma’am,” answered Samuel, wary about him being present.

  Sara and Katherine headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

  Samuel took interest in the weather, wondering what it looked like outside. He scraped the frost off the window, seeing snow piled up about five feet. He peered above the drift and viewed huge, thinly-scattered snow flakes descending at a snail’s pace. “It looks like the storm’s passed!” he yelled. “But I think we are snowed in!”

  “Oh, dear!” hollered Sara. “Louis probably won’t make it here.”

  Samuel grabbed an old coat and a shovel from the closet. Slipping on his new mittens, he made his way to the front door. He turned the knob and pulled, but the door was frozen shut. On his second attempt, he broke it free with a loud crack. With the snowbank to his shoulders, he hurriedly shoveled away at the drift to avoid the cold from coming in. Once he made a clearing, he shut the door behind him, working in the deep freeze of the year.

  After ten toilsome minutes, he saw a one-horse-opened sleigh pull up, steam roaring from the beast’s nostrils. Two well-bundled-up men fit themselves with snowshoes, and then hopped off of the ride. One of them grabbed a long, bulky bag, slung it over his shoulder and walked toward Samuel. The other man with a limp made a slow journey behind him, holding a roasting pot.

  “Monsieur Lee,” said the leader, removing the scarf from around his face. “It is I, Louis Pierre. Bonjour. And Merry Christmas!” he declared, greeting Samuel with a warm smile, waving his free hand.

  “Mr. Pierre. Merry Christmas, sir,” Samuel replied, returning his salutations, smiling, but with no warmth in it.

  “Let me get someone to do that for you, Monsieur Lee, so you may spend your time with us inside.” He whistled over to three boys who were out and about laughing and playing, and having a snowball fight. “Young lads!” he called out. “If you shovel the walk here in front of this restaurant, I will reward each of you with a shiny, new quarter. How about it?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” they shouted out.

  “We’ll get our shovels and be right there, sir!” said the oldest boy, heading to his home around the corner, plowing through the polar powder.

  Samuel was not completely thrilled by what Louis Pierre did since he liked shoveling snow. But it was quite cold and deep and a lot of work, so he let it roll off of his shoulders. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Never a problem, Monsieur Lee. Now, please, let us go inside and enjoy one another’s company.” He handed Samuel the bag then helped Fréderic down into the cleared pathway at the restaurant’s front door.

  The three men entered and removed their protective wear. Samuel took their garments and placed them onto a coat rack next to the fireplace. Offering the visitors a seat, he then let Sara know that her guests had arrived.

  Wearing an apron and carrying a towel, Sara rushed out from the kitchen into Louis Pierre’s arms, giving him a peck on the lips, and then a big hug. “I was sure you wouldn’t make it here because of the weather,” she told him with a frown turning into a smile.

  “Ha! Not a chance,” he replied boldly, flicking her an engaging glance. “Nothing can keep us apart!”

  “Ahem,” Fréderic flaunted the roasting pot.

  “Oui, Oui, Fréderic. I nearly forgot. Please, take it into the kitchen. It is a honey-glazed ham.

  “Sounds delicious,” Sara replied.

  Samuel followed the butler into the kitchen.

  Taking Sara’s hand, Louis led her over to the fireside. Gazing into one another’s eyes he reached around her back and untied her apron, tossing it and her towel aside. By the time that he had begun to discuss his thoughts with her, she had already made the proper adjustment to her hair and seemed eager to hear what he had to tell her. “No need for you to do anymore cooking. Fréderic will take over,” he announced with his charming, French accent.

  “I could get used to that,” she confessed.

  “It is good to be vis-à-vis with you. I have missed your fetching, blue eyes.”

  “And I, your handsome face.”

  “I must tell you, Sara…” He turned to the crackling fire and warmed his manicured hands. “That I have never, in all my days, seen such a magnifique storm. After Fréderic pulled out from under the Porte cochere, there was a drift of snow—must have been fourteen feet high—three more like it on the way here.” He turned to her, a look of discovery shone upon his smiling face. “I have gifts for all of you. But if you do not mind, I would love to eat some of that delectable smelling feast. If you have enough, that is?”

  “Of course! I made it for all of us. I still planned on you being here, Louis.”

  “Good, because I am famished!”

  The two of them set the table for five, then Louis filled glasses with a vintage rose wine he brought. Once all of Sara’s best China and pricy silverware were put into their proper place at the table closest to the roaring fire, they sat.


  Katherine and Samuel returned from the kitchen, bringing the reheated ham to the table, then they took their seats next to each other. Fréderic made his way out with a large bowl of scrambled eggs, seasoned with green bell peppers, onions, salt and pepper. Fetching the rest of the brunch, he came back with seasoned hash browns and a big pan with thin rolled pancakes. Setting the items onto the table’s center, he grabbed a small bottle from under his arm and sprinkled a dash of liquid into the pan. He pulled out a wooden match from his pocket and struck it across the cast iron cook ware. Having everyone’s attention, he sat the contents inside ablaze.

  “He’s done set our food on fire!” exclaimed Samuel, standing, nervous about the sight. “Have you lost your marbles, man?” he questioned Fréderic, knowing now that these people definitely shouldn’t have come.

  “It’s okay, Samuel. It’s crêpe Suzette,” Katherine assured him. Chuckling, she took him by the arm to pull him back into his chair.

  “It’s who?” he asked in confusion, edging back into his seat and taking a gulp of wine.

  “Crêpe Suzette, Monsieur Lee!” Fréderic repeated unkindly with a pompous attitude. “It is a rolled pancake in hot, orange-butter sauce that is sprinkled with liqueur and set afire,” he explained with less harshness.

  “Oh. Continue on, then,” Samuel stated, granting him permission as he relaxed in his chair and drank more wine.

  Dousing the flame with the lid, Fréderic served each person a helping, and then he sat at the table.

  “I would like to say a prayer if everyone does not mind,” declared Louis Pierre as he gazed across to everybody.

  Sitting at the head of the table, Sara looked at the others and nodded her head. She took Louis Pierre’s and Samuel’s hands, Katherine took Samuel’s and Fréderic hands, Fréderic and his master completed the circle as all bowed their heads.

  “Our Father in heaven,” spoke Louis Pierre, “bless us with everlasting compassion and understanding. Merci beaucou for bringing us all together this joyous Christmas day; that we may be able to share with one another this wonderful meal. Must we keep in mind though that the food that truly satisfies us, is doing the will of our heavenly Father. Put His pleasures before our own. In doing so, we will find that fullness. Amen.”

  “Amen,” all responded.

  As everyone filled their plates, eating, drinking and being merry, Samuel watched and listened to Louis Pierre. The man seemed to be a good person. But there was something Samuel didn’t trust about him. While drinking his glass of superior wine, Samuel’s essence became unbound. “I’d like to suppose a toast,” he declared, holding up his drink, eyes not quite focusing on anything.

  “Psst!” Katherine whispered. “Propose a toast, Samuel.”

  He jerked his head and peered over at her with a goofy grin. “Like I said, my lovely, Kat… I’d like to propose a toast!” he iterated with his elbow on the table, swirling the light pink wine in his hand with his pinky in the air.

  Everyone sat patiently, gazing upon Samuel, holding on for his thought—but it did not come. An awkward silence filled the room.

  “Sam. Your toast!” Katherine reminded him.

  “Ahhh, yes! A drink to my fabulous fiancée.”

  “Congratulations!” exclaimed Louis Pierre, appearing intrigued. He picked up his glass, “Hear hear. A drink to Samuel’s fabulous fiancée.”

  All raised their glasses and clanked them together, then took a commemorative swallow.

  “May I ask what day the wedding is?” Louis Pierre inquired, alive with acceptance.

  “You may ask… but we won’t tell you,” Samuel replied with a light-headed comeback.

  “Samuel!” Katherine uttered disapprovingly with a rattled grin.

  “Ahhh. Heck… ! I’m just havin’ fun, Kat. We don’t got no date set, yet. But I was thinkin’ maybe springtime when everything’s new. Whaddaya guess, Kat?”

  She gave a sultry wink of her luring eye. “That sounds wonderful, Sam!”

  “What a ravishing gem,” stated Louis Pierre, taking notice of Katherine’s ring.

  “Isn’t it to die for?” she asked him, flashing it around.

  “Indeed it is,” agreed Louis Pierre, sharing her zing.

  Samuel’s intoxication and smile vanished completely as his jaw dropped at those ominous words. He sat back, watching and listening, wary once again of the unsettling man sitting across from him that laughed and carried on with his soon-to-be wife.

  Louis Pierre became quiet as he acted like he was collecting his thoughts, bringing everyone down to his level. “If everyone is ready, I would love for all of you to join together next to the inviting fire to open the gifts that I have for you.”

  Sara and Katherine nodded their heads yes. Samuel and Louis Pierre helped the ladies out of their chairs, all making their way toward the fireplace. They sat in a circle on more comfortable chairs. Louis Pierre took hold of the large bag and pulled out a present for each one. Starting with Fréderic, Louis Pierre had his servant unravel the first present. “I know you dislike gifts, my good Fréderic. But, please, accept this one.”

  “Oui, Monsieur Pierre,” he answered, rolling his eyes and wagging his head. At a steady pace, he tore into the long, thin package. He pulled out a fencing sword. “Ahhh! Oui, Monsieur Pierre… an épée… merci beaucou!” he thanked him, a grin erupting.

  Samuel and the ladies looked shocked, seeing Fréderic smile for the first time.

  Fréderic stood and headed for the clearing in the room to test his new, welcomed toy. He held the sword at his front, his other hand above his head. “On guard!” he yelled, pretending to ward off a blow with a parry, answering it with a riposte.

  Samuel and the women frowned when they heard this always-quiet man make unnerving grunting noises.

  “Very good, Fréderic,” Louis Pierre declared, applauding Fréderic’s flinty return thrust. “We must fence sometime; that is, if you can handle me, old man!”

  “Oui, Monsieur Pierre,” he answered with a subtle smile.

  “Now let me see. Ah, Oui. Here, Katherine, this is for you.”

  “Merci beaucou, Monsieur Pierre.” Taking the small oddly-shaped package from his grasp, she untied the ornamental braid, revealing a stylish bottle of French perfume. Removing the top, she sniffed the delicate fragrance then dabbed her wrist and neck with it. “What a lovely scent. Merci beaucou, Monsieur Pierre. Here, Sam, take a whiff,” she said, flashing her wrist under his nose.

  Louis Pierre nodded with a smile. “You are most welcome, Katherine.”

  “It’s nice, Kat. I like that smell. It smells like grapes.”

  With Samuel’s gift already in Louis Pierre’s hand, he handed it to Samuel. “Sorry, Monsieur Lee, that it is not wrapped… It is quite a difficult task to do so.”

  Samuel received a fishing pole, one of the good ones that he had seen only in magazines from very expensive stores. Not enticed by who gave it to him, but thrilled to own it, he cast out the line a few feet away, feeling the smooth action of the reel as he drew it back in. “Thank you, Mr. Pierre, sir. It’s a nice piece of work,” he let him know, bearing a well-mannered smile and offering his hand in gratitude.

  “You are welcome, Monsieur Lee.”

  “And last, but not the least, a gift for my amazingly beautiful madam, Sara Jones.” From behind his back, he pulled out a single fresh red rose and handed it to her.

  “Merci beaucou, my incredibly attractive Monsieur, Louis Pierre.” She accepted the flower, drawing in its delightful aroma.

  “But that is not all.” He emptied his bag of the final present. Holding a thin rectangular box with shiny, red wrapping paper and three blue bows, he rested it onto Sara’s lap.

  “How exciting! I can’t imagine what it might be!” she blurted out while unveiling the box. Removing t
he lid, she discovered a black, close-fitting hat and a dress with a low-cut neckline. “It’s gorgeous! And it’s silk. Mmm, feels good up against my skin,” she expressed, rubbing it over her face. Jumping out of her chair, she kissed the gift-giver. “Merci beaucou!”

  “What a wonderful gift from you, Sara Jones,” he declared, touching his lips. “And you are welcome. Incontestably. I believed that you would enjoy a bit of French fashion and look superb wearing the décolletage with the cloche atop your pretty head.”

  “Please, excuse me. I must get your presents, Fréderic and Louis.”

  “You mean there is a fringe benefit to the kiss that you gave me? Ah, Ma Chéri, I cannot wait to descry what it is to be!” he declared, rubbing his hands together.

  Sara returned from the kitchen and handed Fréderic and Louis each his own box. Fréderic opened his first, finding a baker’s dozen of sugar cookies—his favorite. Louis opened his next and received a batch of chocolaty fudge—his favorite. The two of them thanked Sara for the gracious gifts, munching on them.

  All sat around with full stomachs, content with how the holiday had treated them. They sang merry songs, played charades, and chatted among themselves, spreading the Christmas spirit. As the day drew shorter, Louis Pierre and Fréderic gathered their things. Sara, Katherine and Samuel walked their guests down the shoveled walk to the sleigh.

  The boys that had done the troublesome work were still out playing. As they saw Louis Pierre and Fréderic climb onto their ride, they rushed over to collect their earnings. “Pardon us, sir,” said the oldest, “but we are the ones who shoveled the walk for you. We would have come to you earlier, but we didn’t want to bother you folks.”

  “That is quite alright, young man. That was very considerate of you gentlemen.” Louis Pierre reached into a small bag and pulled out some change. “Here you are… one for you… you… and you. And for doing such an excellent job… a pourboire… a well-earned gratuity. Thank you for a job well done.”