by Lynn Austin
“Eve, if you love me—”
“We need to wait, Tom.”
He released her. “I’m tired of waiting. Tired of excuses.”
The hurt expression on his face brought tears to her eyes. She turned away so he wouldn’t see them. And so that she wouldn’t change her mind. “I’m sorry, Tom, but I have to do this on my own.” She hurried toward the farmhouse, hoping he wouldn’t follow, feeling relieved when he didn’t. She paused on the enclosed porch to compose herself before going into the kitchen.
Audrey sat at the table sipping hot chocolate with the boys, who were showing Grandma Vandenberg the Wish Book. Harry looked up as Eve came inside, and she saw that he was sporting a chocolate mustache. “We found the sled we want, Mommy. Look! It’s right here in the Wish Book.”
If only the Wish Book could grant wishes for grown-ups, too.
“But they don’t have dogs,” Bobby said. “We looked and looked.”
“Dogs aren’t toys, and they don’t like being stuffed into Santa’s toy sack.” Eve’s irritation was evident in her voice. She felt Grandma Van studying her but couldn’t meet her gaze.
Grandma Van gently closed the Wish Book and rose to ladle soup into the waiting bowls. “Do you boys know why we celebrate Christmas?” she asked as she worked.
“Because that’s when Santa Claus comes and brings toys,” Harry replied.
“That’s one tradition, but Christmas is much more than that. It’s Jesus’ birthday. We celebrate the day He was born just like we celebrate your birthdays.”
Eve ruffled her son’s sweaty red hair as she sank onto a chair beside him. The bowl of soup Grandma Van set in front of her smelled heavenly.
“You boys know the story of baby Jesus in the manger, don’t you?” Grandma Van continued.
“We colored a picture of it in Sunday school,” Bobby said.
“Bobby and I knew what a manger was because there’s one in your barn for the sheep.”
Grandma Van smiled. “Jesus was God’s Son, but when He was born, He didn’t even have a place to stay or a crib to sleep in. Only a stable and a manger.”
“We’re going to be in a play about baby Jesus in school,” Bobby said.
“We’re gonna wear costumes and everything. We’re the smart kings.”
Grandma Van looked puzzled for a moment, then chuckled. “You mean the Wise Men?”
“Yep. We get to wear gold crowns because we’re the rich smart kings with lots and lots of gold.”
“Then you must know that the kings were bringing the gold as a gift for baby Jesus for His birthday. God gave Jesus to us as a gift because He loves us. And now we give gifts to the people we love at Christmas.”
“Can you and Grandpa and Uncle Tom come and see us in the play, Grandma Van?”
“Of course, sweetie pie. Let me know when it is and we’ll be there.”
Tom had tied the Christmas tree to the roof of Audrey’s car with ropes, and once they reached home, it took both Eve and Audrey, pushing and tugging, to get it off the car and shoved to the side of the driveway. They couldn’t lug the prickly thing an inch farther. “Rather like maneuvering a gigantic hedgehog, isn’t it?” Eve asked with a sigh. Worn-out, they left the tree lying in the snowbank beside the driveway for now.
After supper, they all sat down in the living room together with the Wish Book open to the toy section so the boys could write their letters to Santa Claus. Harry bent close, his nose inches from the stationery as he watched Eve write.
“Can we send a letter to Nana, too?” he asked, looking up.
“We already talked about not pestering Nana, remember? Didn’t you hear what Grandma Van explained today, about how Christmas is Jesus’ birthday?”
“But how will Nana know what to buy if we don’t send her a list?”
Eve sighed. “I’m sure she will manage. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
“Okay. I want this toy steam shovel. It really scoops up dirt.”
“Me, too,” Bobby said. “Make sure you write down the page number, Mummy, so Santa can find it faster.”
“How many pages are there?” Audrey wet her finger and flipped through page after page of the toy section. “Listen, maybe you should choose just one toy from each page.”
“Mummy, no! What if there are lots of good things on the same page?”
“Then you’ll have to choose the best one.”
Harry flopped over onto the floor as if he’d been shot. “That’s impossible! We have everything picked out already!”
Eve laid down her pen. “Then I suggest you take some time to carefully choose again. The letters can wait one more day.” Harry drummed his feet on the floor in frustration. “And if you keep that up,” Eve added, “the only thing Santa will bring you is a sack full of coal.” The drumming stopped.
“Mummy, can I show you one thing we want that’s not on the toy pages?” Bobby asked.
Audrey tilted her head. “I suppose.”
Eve watched as Bobby turned to the menswear section in the front of the catalogue, where a corner of the page had been folded down. He pointed to a man’s suit. “We want this, Mummy.”
“Those suits won’t fit you. They’re for grown men. But they probably have suits in your size in the boy’s department—”
“Not the clothes, Mummy—the daddy. I want a daddy. For all the parades.”
“We can share the same one if he’s big and strong like Mr. Hamilton,” Harry said. “And if he can pick us both up at the same time.”
“We need him to live here with us so he can carry our Christmas tree like Uncle Tom did.”
“And bring it inside for us so we can decorate it.”
Eve had no idea what to say. She decided to take the easy way out and stood to turn on the television set. “Isn’t it time for one of your programs? Kukla, Fran and Ollie, maybe?”
Later, after the boys were tucked into bed for the night, Eve tossed the catalogue onto Audrey’s lap as she sat watching TV. “What are we going to do about this Wish Book? I’m concerned that the boys still think Christmas is all about Santa Claus and toys.”
“I am, too.”
“Harry knows from experience that Nana Barrett is willing to buy everything in the book. And that she’s likely to do it.”
Audrey ran her hand through her amber hair. “How do we tell the Barretts that we don’t want them to buy so much?”
“I don’t know. It won’t be an easy conversation to have.”
“Can we agree that it has to be done? Before Nana buys out the entire Sears catalogue for them?”
“We’ll do it together,” Eve replied. “Tomorrow, when we go to their house for brunch after church—before things get even more out of hand than they already are.”
Audrey let out her breath with a whoosh. “The Barretts didn’t understand when I told them I was going to study nursing. I’m afraid this conversation won’t go over very well, either.”
“I’m very sorry, now, that I let them spoil Harry and me for four years before you came. The funny thing is, no matter how many things the Barretts gave me, I never really felt satisfied inside. My life still felt like it was missing something. Meanwhile, Harry learned to take all their spoiling for granted.”
“I’m also worried about them asking Santa Claus for a father,” Audrey said.
Eve winced. She’d been hoping that Audrey wouldn’t bring up that uncomfortable issue. “They were just fooling around. They’re smart enough to know that people don’t buy fathers in the Sears catalogue.”
“They’re growing up the same way we did. Neither of us had a father who was part of our life.”
“We turned out all right, didn’t we?” Eve asked, trying to make light of it.
“But I always felt an ache inside. Didn’t you?”
“You know very well that I did. But I also had men like George, the gardener, who looked out for me, and Williams, the chauffeur, who taught me how to drive. They helped fill a father’s rol
e. Our boys have Granddad Barrett and Grandpa Van and Tom, and now Mr. Hamilton, I suppose.”
“Yet they’re still asking Santa Claus for a daddy.”
“Listen, Audrey. We had this conversation the other day—are you ready to remarry and give Bobby a father?”
“No. Besides, there aren’t any for sale in the Wish Book.”
“Then let’s not talk about it anymore.”
Chapter 4
16 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS
The cook had spread a bountiful Sunday brunch on the Barretts’ dining room buffet after church, served in silver chafing dishes, with bone china plates and decorated with an arrangement of red roses and white carnations and holly sprigs. Audrey was reminded of the sumptuous buffet brunches her parents would serve guests at Wellingford Hall. She let Bobby choose whatever he wanted from the selection of pancakes, eggs, sausages, bacon, cinnamon rolls, and fruit, but she carried his plate to the table for him so he wouldn’t drop it. The long dining room table seated fourteen people comfortably, but only one end had been set with silverware and damask napkins. “So we won’t have to shout at each other while we eat,” Mrs. Barrett explained.
The food was delicious, as usual, but Audrey was nervous as she silently rehearsed what she and Eve planned to say to Nana about buying too many toys. When everyone had finished eating, the boys begged Nana to follow them into the living room, and Audrey rose quickly to join them, knowing they were about to harangue her with their lists of toys. But Mr. Barrett stopped Audrey, asking, “Do you have a minute, my dear?”
“Yes, of course.”
He waited until they were alone. “What’s this I hear about you applying for a loan at the bank?” he asked.
For a moment, Audrey couldn’t reply. How did he know? Then the light dawned, and she felt a growing fury toward Mr. Hamilton for disclosing her private business. She usually felt a little intimidated by her father-in-law, but today her indignation fueled her courage. “Yes, it’s true, I have. The loan will cover my college tuition and other expenses for the nursing program. I plan to take classes full-time next fall.”
“Why didn’t you ask us for the money, Audrey? You know we’re willing to help in any way that we can.”
“I know you are. You’ve been very generous to Bobby and me. But I plan to become a nurse, you see. And I know that you don’t quite approve.”
“It’s not that I disapprove, exactly. It’s just that I believe there are other careers that would be more suitable for a woman in your position. Even so, you didn’t need to go behind my back.”
“I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. Honestly, I wasn’t. It’s just that I want to try to make it on my own. I grew up in a wealthy family, and I took it for granted that I could have anything I wanted. Then during the war, I stood on my own two feet for the first time and learned to make my own way, my own decisions. I felt different about myself after discovering what I was capable of doing on my own.” Audrey blinked away the sudden tears that stung her eyes, remembering how she’d been disinherited. The painful truth that she was the result of her mother’s adulterous affair still hurt her deeply.
“You’re part of our family now. And families help each other out.”
“I know they do. And I’m very grateful. But my brother, Alfie, was given everything he wanted, and in the end, wealth became more important to him than anything else in his life, even love. He became dependent on money and lived a life of leisure, going to parties and drinking too much. He didn’t take his studies at the university seriously.”
“I hardly think you’re in danger of that, my dear.”
She drew a breath, determined to be heard and understood. “Robert and I talked about how we wanted to raise our son. Robert wanted to work for a living and live simply, which is why he built a modest house. And now I want to teach Bobby how to work for the things that are important to us.”
“But won’t you accept the money for your college tuition as my gift to you?”
His words startled her. She wasn’t sure how to respond. “A-a gift? Thank you, but . . . I want to earn my own way and pay for my education myself.”
“By mortgaging your home?”
“Yes.” There seemed nothing more for either of them to say. “Shall we join the others?” Audrey asked. The conversation had shaken her, and she wanted to flee. Yet she and Eve were about to have another difficult conversation with Mrs. Barrett. Why couldn’t she make her in-laws see that Robert hadn’t wanted their money, and neither did she?
“Go ahead,” Mr. Barrett said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Audrey made her way to the grand living room, where Nana Barrett was seated on the sofa with Harry and Bobby. The Wish Book was open on her lap. “I don’t believe it!” Audrey exclaimed when she saw it.
“I know,” Eve said. “Somehow, someway, they found out where we’d hidden it and smuggled it over here.”
“We’re just having a little look at it together,” Nana said. “Where’s the harm?”
The catalogue was starting to look wrinkled and dog-eared. “With any luck, it will fall to pieces soon,” Eve said.
“I’d like to toss it into the fireplace,” Audrey said. She turned away to where a perfect fire was blazing on the hearth, trying to give her temper a chance to cool. Her conversation with Mr. Barrett had upset her—two years of nursing school, as a gift? He didn’t understand her at all. And now this business with the Wish Book again.
The Barretts’ huge Christmas tree towered in front of the window beside the hearth, and like the rest of the house, it had been beautifully and tastefully decorated, sparkling with hundreds of colored lights. Some of them, like miniature candles, seemed to be bubbling. Every piece of tinsel had been perfectly positioned on the branches as if placed there one at a time. Perhaps they had been. Beneath the tree, an elaborate train set wound in a figure eight, over bridges and through tunnels, past houses with tiny people and animals.
“Your tree is magnificent,” Audrey told Mrs. Barrett.
“The florists always do such a beautiful job, don’t they?”
“We got a tree but we didn’t put it up, yet,” Bobby said. “Mummy says it’s too heavy.”
“Would you like me to send someone over to help decorate it?”
“Thank you, but I think the boys would enjoy doing it themselves,” Audrey said. “They made some decorations for it in kindergarten.”
“A big chain out of colored paper,” Harry said. “Bobby and I glued ours together to make a really long one.”
“And we made stars out of tinfoil in Sunday school today,” Bobby added. “Because baby Jesus is a flashlight.”
“A flashlight?” Nana asked. Audrey covered her mouth to hide a smile.
“Yep. The teacher turned off the lights and made it really dark,” Harry explained. “Then she turned on the flashlight and the dark went away!” He spread his hands as if to say it was magical.
Bobby nodded enthusiastically. “That’s what Jesus does. He’s like a flashlight in the dark. And He made all the stars. The real ones.”
“How lovely,” Nana said.
Maybe the boys were finally getting it. But the next moment Harry said, “I want a flashlight for Christmas!”
“Me, too!”
“Did you boys enjoy the Christmas parade?” Nana asked. “Did you sit on Santa’s lap and tell him all of the toys you want him to bring?”
“The line was too long. We’re writing him letters instead.”
“It’s taking a long time to write, though,” Bobby said, “because Mummy will only let us pick one toy from each page.”
“And the cowboy boots are on the same page as the cowboy hats!”
“Well, surely boots and hats go together,” Nana said. She looked up at Audrey. “Can’t you make an exception?”
“We’re trying to teach them that Christmas isn’t only about Santa Claus and toys,” she replied.
“Right. It’s about this,” Eve said. She gestured t
o an exquisite porcelain manger scene on display on the living room console. The boys slid off the sofa in unison and made a dash toward it.
Nana gasped. “Careful! Don’t touch! Those figurines are very old and quite irreplaceable.” Audrey managed to grab the boys and stop them in time.
“But can’t I just see the kings, Nana?” Harry asked. “We’re gonna be the smart kings in our school play.” Audrey lifted him up and pointed to the elaborately painted Wise Men, careful to keep him and Bobby at a safe distance.
“Can you and Granddad come and see our play?” Bobby asked.
“We wouldn’t miss it, darling. Let me know when it is.”
“It’s this Wednesday at their school at seven o’clock,” Audrey said.
Mr. Barrett joined them after exchanging his suit jacket for a cardigan sweater. He still wore his tie from church. Audrey wondered if he would show up for the school play in his tuxedo.
The boys ran to him, tugging his hands. “Can you show us the train now, Granddad? Please?”
“My pleasure.”
Audrey waited until they’d settled themselves on the floor beneath the tree, the train buzzing and humming on its tracks, then she sat down beside her mother-in-law, steeling herself for another difficult conversation. “Eve and I are concerned that our sons expect to receive everything they want for Christmas. Even if you can afford it, it isn’t right. You saw all the toys they’re asking for in the Wish Book. Pages and pages of them.”
“We want them to know how to work hard and earn money,” Eve said. “Please don’t indulge all their wishes this Christmas. One gift from you is enough.”
Mrs. Barrett’s brow puckered. “Well, I already bought them several things, you see.” She leaned close to whisper, “Roy Rogers outfits with chaps and vests and cowboy hats and toy pistols with holsters. I didn’t buy the boots yet. I wanted to ask you what size they wear.”
Audrey sighed. “They both take size five—but then that’s all. Please don’t buy anything else.”
“Well, I thought I might buy them small bicycles with training wheels.”