“Of course I brought a gift,” she said to Barb, went out to her car to get it, and put it in with the others. “I never get lucky with this game,” she said to Barb in a whisper as they each picked a number. “I’ve gotten a set of coasters three years in a row, and I never have guests over. I’ve had a jeweled tissue box, a leatherette pencil cup, and a pair of mittens with reindeer on them.”
“I hope you get mine,” Barb whispered, and pointed to where it was. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” Winnie smiled at how excited she was, and indicated which one was hers.
The game had begun and their coworkers were already stealing bottles of wine from each other by then, and a bottle of vodka. There was a nice-looking plaid shirt, three pairs of wool socks, a wool hat that looked like a polar bear, an Italian cookbook, a pair of light-up Christmas earrings that three of the women wanted and kept stealing. The game started getting loud and boisterous halfway through. Barb got Winnie’s cheese platter and loved it, someone else stole it, and she got it back, and Winnie decided to trust her and picked Barb’s gift, opened it and found two DVD sets of a TV series she’d heard of and never seen. The actors in the photograph were wearing clothes from the 1920s, there was a castle in the background, and it was set in England. The series had been a big hit and was still on TV. Barb had given her the first two seasons, and knew from veiled inquiries that Winnie had never seen it.
“You’re going to love it,” Barb promised her. “They’re in their sixth season now.” It was called Beauchamp Hall, which Barb said the British pronounced “Beecham,” and was about a fancy family. Winnie was a little disappointed, she never watched TV, and would rather read a book, which was why she’d never seen it. She hoped someone would steal it from her, so she could pick something else, but no one did. The game ended, and Barb clutched the cheese platter, saying Pete would love it. Winnie put the DVDs in her purse and told Barb that she was thrilled and could hardly wait to see the show, which wasn’t true.
They all enjoyed the buffet lunch of lasagna and pesto ravioli after that. They’d been allowed to drink wine to go with it since the office was closing after lunch. Hamm was feeling very expansive, and even gave Winnie a flirtatious look after a glass of wine. Everyone was careful not to drink too much since they had to drive home on snowy roads. There was eggnog without alcohol too, and Winnie opted for that. Barb had two glasses of wine since Pete was picking her up.
“What did Rob give you for Christmas?” she asked Winnie as they ate tiramisu for dessert.
“A yellow sweater and black lace underwear. He gives me the underwear every year, it’s for him.”
“I wish Pete would give me something like that,” she said, giggling.
“It gets old after a while.”
“Well, I know what you’ll be doing on Christmas night,” Barb said with a gleeful look.
“No, he’s visiting his relatives in Detroit like he does every year. And staying to see friends afterwards. And he’s going to visit his mother in the nursing home there. Besides, we did that last night,” she replied, laughing at her friend’s comment, and Barb shook her head.
“No! I meant you were going to watch the DVDs of Beauchamp Hall. You’ve got to watch it, Winnie. The way you love period stories, you’re going to die. The costumes are gorgeous and the characters are fantastic. And they shoot it in a real castle in England, I forgot what it’s called.”
“Oh…of course…I’ll watch it before we come back to work,” Winnie promised, feeling as though she’d been given homework. She’d never gotten involved in watching a series, and for some reason the idea didn’t appeal to her. But she didn’t want to offend her friend, and now she felt she had to see it. She wished again that someone had stolen it from her. Another set of coasters would have been better.
“You have to call me the minute you’ve seen it. I want to know what you think,” Barb insisted. “Believe me, you’ll be hooked after the first episode. They’re starting to shoot the seventh season now in England. Pete loves it too.” Winnie knew one thing was sure, she wouldn’t be watching it with Rob, he’d have a fit and laugh her out of the room.
“What are you giving Pete for Christmas, by the way?”
“An espresso machine. It’s what he said he wanted. He’s giving me a really fancy new Cuisinart. I already know. I saw it in his car.” She looked faintly disappointed. “What did you give Rob?”
“We have a sweater exchange every year. And I gave him heated gloves so he could shovel my driveway. He didn’t take the hint.”
Pete came to pick her up, as expected, and the two women hugged and wished each other a merry Christmas, and agreed to talk during the week. Barb made Winnie promise she’d watch the DVDs as soon as she could. They were in her purse and she forgot about them when she got home. She picked up Jane Eyre for a while, and then dressed for dinner at her sister’s, and put her gifts for them in her car. She had autographed basketballs from the Detroit Pistons for both boys. She had bought a dress that Marje had said she wanted that she got on the Internet, and the same heated gloves for Erik that she’d gotten for Rob, since Erik did shovel their driveway.
She arrived just as Marje was putting the finishing touches on dinner, and the Christmas tree was lit. Winnie had a small one at her house, which Rob said was silly, since she didn’t have kids and it just made a mess. But it smelled delicious and Winnie loved having a tree every year, even if it wasn’t big. The one at her sister’s house touched the ceiling, with an angel on top that had been their mother’s and reminded them both of their childhood. Winnie had agreed to let her have it, since Marje had kids.
Erik served her a glass of spiked eggnog, and then they sat down to dinner. Marje had made turkey and it was delicious, and they all had second helpings of the stuffing until it ran out. It was the perfect Christmas meal. Afterwards they sat in the living room, listening to Christmas carols and opening their gifts. After they got their basketballs, the boys went downstairs to the playroom to play video games. Their parents had bought them a new, bigger flat screen TV. Marje had given Winnie a new pair of red Uggs, which she always wore around the house on cold nights. Marje gave her a pair every year. Like the sweater from Rob, it wasn’t a surprise. But Marje loved her dress from Winnie. Marje always said she didn’t have time to shop and didn’t enjoy it anyway.
It was a cozy family Christmas. They asked where Rob was, and she said he was in Detroit with his relatives, as always, and would be back later in the week. At midnight they all went to mass. She got home at one-thirty in the morning and slipped into bed, thinking about Rob. He hadn’t called her, but she thought he might on Christmas Day. He didn’t like holidays as much as she did, and didn’t always call her. He thought holidays were for families and married couples, not for people who were just dating. After eleven years, she was just a “date,” but he wasn’t much more than that to her. And as she thought about it, she fell asleep.
* * *
—
Winnie woke up to bright sun on the snow on Christmas Day. It looked like a Christmas card. She lay in bed reading for a while, and dressed in time for lunch at her sister’s, which was casual and would be a meal of leftovers from the night before. Erik and the boys would watch football on TV all day. It gave the two sisters time to talk.
“Have you heard from Rob?” Marje asked with interest and Winnie shook her head.
“I don’t expect to. He’s not big on holidays, and he’s probably busy with his family, or his mother at the nursing home.” He was good about that, which Marje always said was a good sign, but of what?
“How depressing,” Marje said sympathetically.
“Yes, it is. He doesn’t talk about it much. He says she doesn’t recognize him anymore. He goes a few times a year, but she has no idea who he is.”
“The poor guy needs a family,” she said meaningfully and Winnie laughed. Her sister was never sub
tle.
“He has one, and so do I. You’re all I need, big sister,” she said warmly.
“That would be pathetic. Don’t you want to be more than just Aunt Winnie? Don’t you want to be a mom one day?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure,” she said seriously. “I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe I’m just not the marrying kind, or meant to have kids.” She enjoyed the children at the library for two hours a week but never longed to have her own, at least not yet.
“What would you do for the rest of your life without children?” Marje couldn’t imagine it. Erik and the boys were her whole life and her job.
“Maybe I’d be happy. I’d still like to do some writing one day. I always wanted to do that after college, but I never got the chance. I’d love to try, short stories like I used to write, or something.” She had published several in a magazine in college, and their mother was very proud.
“Mom always said your stories were good.” Marje had never read them.
“She was prejudiced.” Winnie laughed. But their mother was also well-read and intelligent, even though she hadn’t gone to college. She had inspired Winnie and encouraged her to write. It had just never happened, except in her creative writing classes, which didn’t really count.
At the end of the day, Marje switched on one of the reality shows she loved, and Winnie watched it with her. It was a group of housewives in Las Vegas, who all looked like hookers, had set up a Christmas meal together, and were joined by their husbands at the end of the show. The men looked like gangsters and the women were squeezed into tight, sexy dresses with big hairdos, too much makeup, and tons of jewels. The dining room the show was shot in looked like a bordello. Winnie was mesmerized and couldn’t believe what she was seeing, and Marje was glued to it with delight. She told Winnie which ones were her favorite women on the show.
“You watch this regularly?” She was amazed.
“I never miss a show. Today is their Christmas special.” Winnie couldn’t imagine watching it again, or caring about the women involved, but Marje felt as though they were her friends. And she said the dress Winnie had given her that she had wanted was vaguely inspired by the women on the show. Winnie had already noticed that all of them looked as though they had breast implants, their breasts were huge, and their lips were puffed up with collagen. Nothing about them was real.
At the end of the show, Winnie got up to leave. She went downstairs to see Erik and the boys, thank them for her gift, and wish them a merry Christmas again, then she hugged her sister. It was snowing outside again, and she wanted to get home before it got too deep.
When she got home, she made herself a cup of tea and sat in her kitchen, watching the snow falling. Rob called her from Detroit.
“How was your Christmas?” he asked her.
“Really nice with Marje and Erik and the kids. What about yours?”
“It was great. We went to a bar to shoot pool for a while last night, then we came home. I haven’t stopped eating since I got here.”
“How’s your mom?” she asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.
“I’m seeing her tomorrow. She doesn’t know it’s Christmas anyway.” But what if she did, even if she didn’t recognize him? It seemed so sad to her. “We’re going out for dinner tonight with some cousins I haven’t seen in years. They’re here from Miami.” It all sounded foreign to her, since she didn’t know any of the people. He only had one brother and he hadn’t seen him in years. The people he visited in Detroit were aunts and uncles and cousins, but Winnie could never keep any of it straight. “I’ll see you when I get back. You’ll have to model your Christmas gift for me again.” She wasn’t sure why, but he made her feel cheap when he said it, like a hooker he was hiring for the night. She loved having sex with him, but not by masquerading as a stripper, or pretending to be a whore, even if just for him. She didn’t answer and changed the subject.
“I hope you have a great dinner,” she said vaguely.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Going to bed, I’m exhausted. Too much food, and I was up late last night after church. I’ll probably read in bed.”
“My cousin gave me a couple of great porn films for Christmas. We’ll watch them when I come home.” His saying it made her think of the DVDs she’d won in the white elephant game. She hated porn films and didn’t want to see any more of his. But Rob loved them, they aroused him, and he always wanted to have sex with her while they were watching, imitating what was happening on the screen. She avoided watching them with him whenever she could. There were still things about him that gave her the creeps, even after eleven years. At least he wasn’t addicted to porn, but he liked it a lot. She had let him know as often as possible that it wasn’t her thing. Rob was more about sex than about love. He was good at sex, but love wasn’t in his repertoire. “See you when I get back, Win,” he said and they hung up. No I love you, no Merry Christmas. Same old Rob.
She went up to her bedroom then, got into bed and reached for the copy of Jane Eyre on her night table, and remembered the DVDs again. She had no interest in them, but thought that if she watched one, she could fake it to Barb about the other ones when she asked her. She decided to get it over with. She had nothing else to do that night. She looked at the boxes when she took them out of her purse. Each season had eight episodes that were each an hour long, and a two-hour Christmas special at the end. Barb had given her two seasons. Twenty hours of TV, way too much, but if she watched an episode or two, maybe Barb wouldn’t care about the rest.
She dutifully got the first disc out, and put it in the DVD player attached to the TV in her room. It was Rob’s. He had brought it over so he could watch porn videos with her. She dreaded it when he came over with a new one, and she tried to find an excuse not to see it: tired, sick, headache, busy, early day tomorrow. Sometimes he couldn’t be put off, but she always tried.
The screen sprang to life with the first season of Beauchamp Hall, and she hopped into bed, pulled up the covers, and turned off the light as the first episode began. She was struck by the beautiful costumes, all historically accurate, and the incredible décor inside the castle, with enormous paintings and elegant antiques. It had an Upstairs Downstairs feel to it, with a fleet of servants, and a family composed of all the important players on the show. Three of them were famous actresses, several of the men looked familiar to her, even though it was an English production, but she had seen them in movies. And the manners and mores of the players were authentic to the period. It was everything she loved about English books and movies. The behavior of each actor was exquisite, the performances flawless, the dialogue brilliantly written, the story engaging, the characters perfectly defined in their roles as good or bad people. Their position in the world was clear, bound by tradition, whether noblemen or servants. It was an absolutely gorgeous show, as she got engrossed in the story for the first time. Predictably, by the end of the hour, several of the storylines were left hanging, and she wanted to see how they turned out, so she watched another hour. And a third one after that. She had to put another disc in for the next two episodes. At the end of it she had binge-watched five hours of Beauchamp Hall, and she wanted to watch more. But it was midnight by then. She looked at her watch, and like a naughty child past curfew, with no parental supervision, she grabbed another disc, put it in, pressed Play, and watched the intricate stories unravel. She was in love with the characters by then, and fascinated by the castle, the family, and the staff. It was a perfect replica of English aristocracy in the 1920s, when grandeur, opulence, and the upper class still prevailed. She felt as though she had been pulled into a different world, where her own life ceased to matter, only theirs did.
It was two in the morning when the third disc finished, and she still had another episode and the two-hour Christmas special to go, and she decided to watch them in the morning. She could hardly wait to wake up and se
e more. It was snowing hard and had been all night, and she hoped she’d get snowed in so she could watch the rest. She didn’t have to go to work all week. She wanted to savor it and enjoy each moment of the story, and the costumes and the sets, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. It was exactly as Barb had said. It was totally addictive, and she had had a fantastic evening watching it all alone.
She woke up the next morning and watched the rest of the first season, and the cast felt like old friends by now. It was lunchtime when she stopped. She ran downstairs to the kitchen, grabbed something to eat, and went back upstairs and started the second season, which was even more exciting than the first one.
She spent another three hours watching it in bed, and it was dark when she finally got up, and had another seven hours left to enjoy. She took a shower, put on fresh pajamas, and watched another four hours that night, and woke up again the next day to watch the last three hours of season two, and felt bereft when it ended. It was as though she had lost her best friends, and had been exiled from their magical land. She watched two of her favorite episodes for a second time that night. She had spent two full days and nights, and Christmas night, watching Beauchamp Hall, and as Barb predicted, she was totally hooked.
She called Barb that night. “What did you do to me?” she said when Barb answered.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like a drug! I can’t stop! I’ve just spent two days in bed watching it, and all I want is more.”
Beauchamp Hall Page 3