by Greg Kincaid
“Okay, but by the way, what about that early Christmas surprise you mentioned when I got home?”
“It’ll keep a bit longer. Now, let’s have some music!”
Mary Ann had been playing for so many years that she knew all the old Christmas standards by heart. One of the children would hum a few bars of a familiar tune, and she could flow right into it, words and all. As the guests arrived, they congregated around the piano and joined in with the McCray children, who could all hold their own when caroling. Soon the room was full. When Mary Ann had been playing for about twenty minutes—and after all that sitting, first in the car and now at the piano—she needed a break. With her fingers intertwined, she stretched her arms and got ready to stand up.
George looked behind him at Judge Borne and winked. He rested his hand on Mary Ann’s shoulder and pushed her gently back down onto the piano bench. “Just one more.”
She owed him this much. “Of course. What do you want to hear?”
George seemed a bit confused. “I don’t remember the name of the song.”
“Just hum a few bars.”
George sat down beside her on the bench. He looked up to the ceiling, as if it were a considerable task remembering the song. “Well, let’s see.” The room grew very quiet as he did his best to hum the processional hymn. “Hum, dee, dee, dum. Hum, dee, dee, dum.”
Mary Ann looked at her husband as if he were exhibiting the first signs of early-onset dementia. “George, that’s not a Christmas song! That’s a wedding processional.”
“Are you sure?” George asked.
“Of course I’m sure.” She played several bars to make her point. “I’ve played it at a few dozen weddings over the last twenty years. I’m sure.”
“Well, play it anyway. I like it.”
Several other McCray family members joined in the plea. “Yeah, Mom, play it! Play it!”
Mary Ann shrugged and started to play an improvised version that drifted in and out of holiday songs, put in for punctuation. When she transitioned out of “Jingle Bells” and back into the famous Mendelssohn march, she noticed that everyone was looking away from her and the piano. She followed their glances and saw little Emily Robinson, dressed for a beauty pageant. Christmas ribbons were woven through her hair. With one hand she was sprinkling white packing peanuts all over the dining-room floor from a basket she held in the other. Mary Ann was about to stop playing and demand an explanation when another figure entered the room. It was Keenan, wearing a blue blazer with a red bow tie, carrying a small box. Right behind him was Laura, in a— Mary Ann gasped. In a wedding dress. No!
She knew something had been off-kilter since she’d walked in through the back door, and it wasn’t just those cleaning ladies or the too-perfect cookies. At first she’d thought her radar was affected by exhaustion—but there was Laura, and…well, this was for real, even if Mary Ann hadn’t seen it coming.
To keep from melting into an emotional puddle, she summoned her considerable backbone and did what she did best—she poured herself into the music and let a wave of love wash over her and back out to those around her.
Laura was so beautiful. Mary Ann recognized the dress. She had repacked and cleaned it several times over the last forty years. It was old, aged from white to pearl, and had belonged to George’s grandmother, Cora McCray. Gracie, a gigantic red-and-green bow around her neck, walked along with Laura on one side, a four-legged maid of honor supporting her best friend, and Laura’s father was on the other side. He winked at her. Mary Ann tried to keep playing without missing a beat. It was good that she knew the music by heart. She couldn’t have read the sheet music through her tears. How could this be? How did she miss this one? Todd was doing his best to grow up, and she was doing her best to not see it.
Laura, Gracie, and Laura’s father stopped just inside the wide pine doorframe that separated the dining room and living room. Judge Borne stepped out from the crowd with a Bible in his hand. Link Robinson and Todd made their way into the room and stood on opposite sides of the judge. Wearing jeans, boots, and a cowboy shirt, Link looked like he’d just left the county fairgrounds. Elle tagged along behind him, sure that all the pomp and circumstance was solely for her benefit.
Mary Ann had caught her breath at the sight of Laura in a wedding gown, but when she saw Todd decked out in his good suit and tie, she gasped again. He really was an adult now—his own man, no denying it. And true to Todd form, she noted, instead of his nice black oxfords, his red Converse sneakers peeked out from beneath the cuffs of his dark dress pants. Well, Mary Ann thought as she smiled, at least that hasn’t changed.
Judge Borne looked to Mary Ann. She knew the signal well. She should stop playing. She slid off the bench and crowded in next to George and her other children. She needed propping up. She felt she might faint. She reached out to her husband, her hand quivering. George slipped his arm around his wife’s waist and held her close to him. He tried to steady her. He whispered, “You really need to keep your phone charged.”
“Apparently.”
Judge Borne used his most impressive judicial voice. “And who gives this woman up for marriage?”
Laura’s father stepped forward. “Her mother and I do.”
If William Bryant Jordan wanted to give his daughter Laura up for marriage, that was his business. Why wasn’t Judge Borne asking Mary Ann if she and George were also willing to give up Todd for marriage? Shouldn’t she have a say? If he asked, Mary Ann was leaning toward consent, but after Todd and Laura exchanged vows, she was even more certain of it. The way they looked at each other. Their eyes seemed to journey into each other’s soul, and they were blissfully lost.
Laura pronounced a short vow to Todd. “Todd, I love you for many reasons. I know you’ll always bring out the best in me.” She teared up, paused, and then added, “And in everyone else.” She clutched his hand and finished, “I vow to always give the best of myself to you. Forever.”
There was another woman in the world who understood Mary Ann’s son. Loved him for at least some of the same reasons she loved him. Laura was right: Todd brought out the best in everyone. She’d nailed it.
Todd looked at Laura. It was his turn. Truth was, he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t feel he needed to say much. “Laura, I love you. I always will.”
After a few more words, Judge Borne ended the ceremony minutes later. “By the authority vested in me, I do now declare you to be husband and wife.” He turned to the small audience gathered in the farmhouse at the top of the hill in rural Kansas. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Todd McCray.”
—
Many hours later, after the last guests had departed for their wintry drive home and all that was left in the house were McCray family members, Todd stood at the kitchen sink with Mary Ann, helping to wash and dry dishes. Laura sat at the kitchen table, Gracie and Elle relaxing at her feet.
Todd asked, “So, Mom, you were surprised, right?”
Mary Ann just shook her head. Her son—the master of the understatement. “Yes, Todd, I was very surprised. Dad and I are both very happy for you, but I was just wondering, why did you and Laura decide to skip a big wedding?”
Todd shrugged. “Because we wanted to get things in the right order.”
“The right order?” said Mary Ann, puzzled.
Todd explained, “You know. Get married, have children, and grow old.”
At that, Laura glanced up at George, who was putting dishes away. He gave his new daughter-in-law a panicked look that only she saw. Laura checked her watch. “You know, Todd, I wonder if we could get going. I’m starting to feel the effects of a long day. And Gracie needs to go out.”
George spoke up. “You’re absolutely right, Laura. Who ever heard of having to do dishes on your wedding day? You two scoot on out of here. We can finish up.”
Jonathan, Thomas, and Ryan, Todd’s older brothers, came into the kitchen just then, about ready to leave themselves. Jonathan
hugged Todd. “Congratulations.” With his hands on his brother’s shoulders, he looked Todd straight in the eye and joked, “This sure came on fast. Is there something else you’re not telling us?” Oh, thought George, if only you knew.
Hannah, unintentionally, came to her younger brother’s rescue. “Quit teasing him!” She took a few steps and put her arms around Mary Ann. “Mom, everything is put away, so we’re heading out, too. Merry Christmas. I love you.”
Hannah then turned around and hugged Todd, too. “I’m so proud of you!” After she let him go, she took Laura’s hand in her own and, making sure she had the attention of her brothers, added, “You know, of the McCray boys, Todd is the best. The others are rotten to the core.”
Laura grinned at the McCray clan, so happy to officially be a part of this family. They say you can’t pick your siblings, she thought, but in a way she just had. Mary Ann grabbed Todd and whispered, “Do you know the opposite of ‘disappointed’?”
Todd couldn’t think of the word. He shook his head.
She whispered, “You. Thank you for being you. Nobody could be better than you.”
—
It was midnight before the house was finally empty. Mary Ann was exhausted. Maybe it wasn’t the time to have it out with him, but she deserved an explanation. She stood in front of George, blocking his way out of the kitchen. “I may be too tired for this discussion, but we need to have it.”
George was hoping that there was some remote chance she wouldn’t be angry. No one could deny that the wedding had been a hit. Maybe a bit unconventional, but still a hit.
George untied the white apron that Mary Ann had foisted on him to protect his good blue suit while they’d been cleaning. “I’m thinking of having something printed up.” He held his index fingers and thumbs together to frame a rectangle about the size of a business card. “What do you think about this? ‘George McCray, All-Pro Wedding Planner’?”
“Is leaving the groom’s mother out of the mix at the core of your business plan?”
“Come on, admit it. It was a darn good wedding.”
“George, right up front, I’m going to give you that one. It might have been the best wedding I’ve ever attended—leaving our own out of the discussion.” She paused and added, “Of course, for us it was different.” It was a subject that they didn’t talk about much. She paused again, not wanting to go there. “There was, well…” She paused yet again and chose her words carefully before finishing the sentence. “A certain urgency for us that’s not present here.”
“Yes, I’m told that’s often the case. More often than most folks know.”
“But,” she asked with dawning concern, “that’s not the case here. Right?”
George had a look on his face like a dog that had been caught dragging food off the kitchen counter. He waited entirely too long to answer, and she knew he was incapable of finding the words to tell her. “George!” she pleaded again. “Tell me that they’re not…”
He nodded steadily. “They wanted to tell you themselves. After the wedding. But yes, they are.”
Mary Ann sank down to the kitchen floor. She pulled her hands from her face and looked at George, astonished. “My baby is going to be a father?”
“Don’t worry, Grandma Claus. Everything is going to turn out just fine.”
On Friday morning, Christmas Eve, Mary Ann found herself staring into her final and largest Anna Claus event. The fuel she’d been burning to keep her sled flying high had been drained dangerously low by the events of the last few days, starting with her road trip and, especially, ending with last night’s wedding/holiday party. She had made an important decision on the fate of Anna M. Claus.
It occurred to her that it might be best if this were her last event. Ever. She was exhausted. George was exhausted. Her family needed her. She’d made her point. There are no women on the Christmas stage, and that left the holiday so much less than it could be. Now it was up to other, perhaps younger, women to find their holiday voices. They could pick up the torch and carry it forward.
Next year the library board and the Chamber of Commerce could be like those of every other town in America. They could hire a Santa Claus from some Santa-for-hire agency. St. Nick could show up in his synthetic suit with a black plastic belt and meet everyone’s expectations without trying to reshape anybody. When it was all over, he would collect his fee and leave until next year. Reshaping expectations was hard work.
She brought it up to George. “It’s been an unusual Christmas. I’m about ready for it to end. I’m ready to return to the role of Mary Ann McCray.”
George smiled and said, “You’ve no idea what a tough act she is to follow. Not many could ever play her part. I’m as proud of Mary Ann McCray as I am of Anna Claus. It’ll be nice having her back.”
“Next year, don’t worry, I’ll let the library board hire someone. You know, a real Santa. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll keep my mouth shut. I won’t put all of us through this again.”
George let out a guffawed snort. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“You’ve had enough of this, too. Right?”
“Mary Ann, you’re the closest thing to a real Claus that I’ve ever seen. Hank was a good Santa, but you’re the best Claus who ever lived.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t have much competition.”
“Of course you did. There were thousands of Clauses before you. Look at all the kids you inspired and encouraged. Every change has to start with someone brave enough to say it matters. Don’t give this up. You’re just getting started.”
“It all came at a cost, George. Santa is stuck carrying a sack of toys on his back. Anna Claus has to tote an entire tradition. It’s a heavy load.”
George spoke frankly. “It’s true. Anna Claus might never get the support she deserves.”
“What do you mean?” Mary Ann asked.
“I never understood why Santa had to be out of the picture so that Anna could be in the picture. Or vice versa. Why one or the other?”
Mary Ann wasn’t sure what he was saying. “If it was okay to leave Anna Claus and women in general off the Christmas stage for a few hundred years, why can’t Santa be left out for even one year?”
“That’s just it. It shouldn’t have to be one or the other—Santa or Anna. As long as we have to choose, someone will always feel left out. If it was wrong to leave Anna Claus out of the mix, isn’t it just as wrong to leave Santa out?”
She wanted to say something snide about the relative amounts of time on the Claus family stage but decided that wasn’t going to help. She had another idea. Maybe George was right. She walked away from their argument, headed toward the staircase. It was time to fix this. Once and for all. She turned back to her husband. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” When she came back downstairs, she held a sack in her hand.
“George, I agree with you. There’s no need for Santa to be cut out of the holiday. He’s an important part of the tradition, too. That was never my intention. Remember, it was me trying so hard to keep old Santa going—even if he was on oxygen and in a wheelchair. It’s not as though one Claus spouse has to shine at the expense of the other. There shouldn’t be a loser who sits home alone at the North Pole while the winner winds up on the holiday stage. That’s not what Christmas should be about.”
“It feels that way to me.”
“Of course it does. Trust me. I understand. Every woman understands. So, George, we’re going to fix this right now.”
Mary Ann tossed the sack to him. “It’s time for the Claus family to start acting like a family. Not one or the other. Both.”
George opened the sack and pulled out Hank Fisher’s old Santa outfit—too big for Mary Ann but close enough for George. “What do you mean?” he asked.
Mary Ann smiled. “You know the only thing rarer than a North American sighting of Anna Claus?”
“What?” he asked.
“Mr. and Mrs. Claus together. Equals. Never been done. At leas
t not until now. Put it on. We’ve only an hour to get ready.”
George remembered what Hank had said about progress. One foot behind and one foot forward. It might be scary at first. We feel as if we’re going to teeter and fall over. But with practice we learn to do it. It seemed to him like a new beginning. “Are you proposing?” George asked.
Mary Ann stepped closer and put her arms around his neck. “Do you, Mr. Claus, take me, Mrs. Claus, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
George dropped the sack to the floor and said, “I do.”
“It’s official, then,” Mary Ann said.
He pulled her closer. “May I kiss the bride?”
“Please,” she said.
George leaned in. “With this kiss I thee wed.”
—
Realizing that Link would be in town for only a few days, Abbey did her best to maximize his time with Emily and Keenan, even deciding that he should spend Christmas Eve with them. He was planning to drive back to Dallas on Christmas Day to start his job, so his time in Crossing Trails was truly short. Abbey thought Link might enjoy taking the kids to see Anna Claus on Friday, and Link agreed. He would pick the kids up, and, so that Link could have an overnight with them, Abbey would go to her parents’ house to spend the night and then come back to spend Christmas morning with everyone. That would give Link a full day with the kids, and they could have the house to themselves.
But as soon as Abbey had made plans with Link, it dawned on Keenan that this arrangement was threatening an important part of their Christmas tradition. “If we stay here with Dad tonight, how will Anna Claus know where to find us?” For their family, Christmas Eve had always been spent with Abbey’s parents. They spent the night and woke up to find Santa’s gifts under their grandparents’ tree. Naturally, Keenan didn’t want to miss out on it.
Abbey tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Keenan. Anna Claus will know that we’re doing things a bit differently this year. I’ll make sure she finds you.”