by Dean Hughes
In a moment Dad’s door came open, and he stepped out, smiling. He had already shaved and dressed, but he had taken to a little more casualness lately. He didn’t have a white shirt on, or a tie. He had on a blue sports shirt, and his top button was unbuttoned. “What’s all the racket around here?” he said, but he was laughing. “Where’s Lorraine? Did you go get her?”
One thing Beverly knew was that Dad was crazy about Lorraine. And she seemed to know it, too. She appeared at the kitchen door just then, walked over, and gave him a kiss on
the cheek. “Merry Christmas,” she said.
“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” he asked. “Do you still want to marry this boy of mine?”
“I still do. After all these hours.”
“Well, that’s good. I hope you can train him to behave. You might have to spank him with a newspaper once in a while.”
“Don’t give her ideas,” Wally said. “I already follow her around like a little puppy.”
“Is that why your tongue is hanging out?”
Bev loved all this. She liked Lorraine so much, and she liked the happiness in her dad’s voice. He had been a little at loose ends lately, home more than ever before, and often silent.
“Dad,” Wally said, “that paperwork still hasn’t come through from Bendix. I called back there last week and the lady said she sent it, but it ought to be here by now.”
“Well, the post office is probably really slow right now. People are sending a lot more cards than they did during the war.”
Mom stepped through the door. She had taken off her apron. “None of that,” she said. “I won’t hear any shop talk today.” She turned and called, “LaRue, you now have ten seconds, and then we’re starting.” But then, as she walked into the living room, she asked Wally, “Who did you talk to at Bendix?”
“I can’t remember for sure. They gave me the runaround and finally put me on the phone with a woman named Dixie, or something like that.”
“Okay. That’s your mistake. Always talk to Mary Ann. And don’t let them give you that business about the paperwork being in the mail. They always say that.”
“Now who’s talking business?” Dad said.
Beverly heard LaRue’s steps on the stairs, and then she heard her shout, “Don’t look up and hurt your eyes. The sun has just appeared. Ta-da!” She entered the living room in her old flannel robe, strutting like a model. She actually looked great—even dressed that way, and even with her stringy hair. Bev would have given anything to look that good so early in the morning.
Mom hadn’t set out presents by the tree this year, the way she had when the kids were young. Some of the presents were from Santa Claus, and some from Mom and Dad or others in the family, but everything was wrapped. So the pile was very high. Alex had sent things from Germany, Bobbi from Hawaii, and even the Stoltzes had sent a little box from London. Wally sat on the floor and handed out the gifts, and he made sure the old rule applied: no one could open a package until the last person had finished opening his or hers and had shown the gift to everyone. Bev was amazed, and pleased, at how long it took. And she was excited about all presents she got: sweaters and skirts and blouses, new shoes, a watch from Germany, a teak jewelry box from Hawaii, a beautiful red robe from Wally, and a doll from LaRue to remind her, as LaRue said, that she was still the baby of the family. But it was a beautiful doll with a china face, carefully chosen, and Beverly loved it.
LaRue had most of the same things, including a robe like Beverly’s, which she changed into immediately. Mom and Dad and Wally received lots of nice gifts too. The best moment came when Wally opened a box and found the tie that he had helped LaRue and Beverly buy for Dad, all the way back in 1939. It was a wide maroon thing with a flock of ducks hand-painted across it. “I thought you deserved that, Wally,” Dad said. “It’s been close to my heart, so to speak, all these years, but since you liked it enough to choose it for me, I wanted you to have it.”
“Hey, it’s great,” Wally said. “I’ll wear it to church this Sunday.”
“You do that.”
“In fact, I’ll wear it every Sunday . . . as long as Lorraine doesn’t mind.”
“Go right ahead,” Lorraine said. She rolled her eyes and laughed.
Beverly loved to watch Lorraine and Wally touch each other, glance at one another and smile, lean together as though magnetized. She wanted so much to have someone that close to her someday.
The Stoltzes had sent the family a porcelain figurine of a lovely white swan. “Oh, my goodness, that must have cost them so much, and they have so little,” Mom said. She carried it to her little knickknack shelf in the corner and placed it alongside the cats. “I’ll have to think what we’re going to do with it after we get our new furniture.”
Bev had heard her parents talking all week about the furniture they had been picking out and ordering at Southeast Furniture in Sugar House. Mom said they had given Wally time enough to see the old house the way it had been, but now she really wanted to get some new things.
When all the presents were finally open, Mom told everyone that she wanted them to eat something decent for breakfast before they ate a lot of Christmas candy. “I love hearing you say that, Mom,” Wally said. “On Christmas, all these years I’ve been gone, I would try to have my own Christmas day—you know, in my mind. I’d think all day about what you were doing back here. I’d say to myself, ‘The presents are open by now, and Mom is saying, “Let’s all eat a good breakfast before we start in on a lot of sweets.”’” He turned to his dad and said, “And it’s time for you to say, ‘Don’t anyone run off. I want to have a little meeting right after breakfast.’”
“That’s exactly what I am going to say. So don’t run off.”
“We do need to run over to the Gardners before too much longer, but I’ll tell you, I wouldn’t miss your meeting for anything in the world. I want to hear your speech—every word of it. I’ve been looking forward to it for five years.”
Bev laughed, and so did everyone else. They all knew how much Wally had fussed about the meetings—before LaRue had taken over the job.
Mom was serious about the breakfast. She scrambled eggs, and Lorraine made toast. Wally poured glasses of milk while he teased the girls, and then everyone ate together at the table. When they returned to the living room and took their seats around the tree again, Dad said, “I want to do something a little different this year. But let’s start with a song and a prayer.”
He called on Mom to pray. After the family sang “Silent Night,” she thanked the Lord for the glorious day it was. By then, the mood was changing, everyone seeming to sense what an important time this was, finally to have Wally there again, and now, Lorraine. Dad still sounded almost jovial, however, when he said, “I’m not going to give a speech this year. I wouldn’t dare, with Wally back. I’ll say something at the end—but only for two minutes. And you can time me with all those new watches Alex sent you. What I want is for all of you to take about the same amount of time—two minutes or less—and just say what you’re thankful for this Christmas. I’ll ask Bev to start.”
Beverly was taken by surprise. She hardly knew what to say. There were lots of things to be thankful for—but all of them were so obvious. “Well . . . okay,” she said.
“Come on, speak up,” Dad said, “or no one will hear you.”
“All right.” And she did try to raise her voice. “I’m thankful that Wally’s home, of course. But I wish he wouldn’t leave us quite so soon.” She tried to laugh, but the truth was, she had had a hard weekend, just thinking that Wally would be leaving home all over again. “I am thankful that he’s marrying Lorraine. I always prayed that she would wait for Wally, and we could have her in our family. Now I wish she would come to live with us—instead of taking Wally away.”
Beverly hadn’t been able to keep the emotion out of her voice, and she was a little embarrassed. But she was sitting next to Wally on the big couch, and he turned and kissed her on the
top of the head. Lorraine reached across Wally and took hold of Beverly’s hand. “Thank you, Bev,” she said. “I’m sorry to steal him.”
“Don’t worry,” LaRue said. “In another month or two, we would have gotten tired of him.”
Everyone laughed, but Mom said, “I hate to admit it, because it sounds so selfish, but I was praying for the same thing. I wanted Lorraine for myself.”
“I did, too,” Dad said.
Lorraine gripped Beverly’s hand tighter, and said, “I prayed for almost the same thing. I kept asking that I’d know the right thing to do, but I could never feel sure of John. I just kept thinking about Wally.”
Wally said, “I guess I’m the only one who didn’t pray for this marriage to happen.” He laughed softly. “I didn’t dare. I thought it was too much to ask for. It’s lucky the rest of you had more faith than I did.”
Everyone sat quietly for a time. Wally pulled Lorraine close to him. Dad finally said, “Well, we’re off to a rough start here. At this rate, you’ll all be bawling too much to talk.” But there was emotion in his voice. “Lorraine, I guess we’ve heard what you’re thankful for. Is there anything you want to add to that?”
“I’m thankful for all of you. Even when Wally wasn’t much to brag about, I loved him. I always wanted to be in your family.”
LaRue was sitting on the floor, close to Wally. She slapped his knee and said, “See, Wally. Without us, you never would have had a chance with her.”
“Hey, I’m starting to think that’s right,” Wally said.
“I don’t think I’d better joke about that,” Lorraine said. “I love Wally so much. And I have for a long time. I tried to let him go, but I just couldn’t.” She took hold of his hand again. “And now we have an announcement. It’s something else I’m thankful about.”
“We know you’re engaged,” Bev said.
“Yes. But we’ve set a date. And it’s going to make life a little crazy for a month, but we don’t want to wait a long time. We’re getting married on the twenty-fifth of January.”
President Thomas grinned. “That one is not news to Bea and me. We talked to the kids about it last night. But we’re really pleased. There’s not one reason to wait a long time at this point.”
This was even worse than Beverly had thought. Wally would be gone so soon. “Congratulations,” she whispered to Lorraine, but it was hard for her not to show what she was really feeling.
“So tell us what you’re thankful for, Wally,” Dad said. “As if we didn’t know.”
“I can’t even start to tell you how wonderful everything seems to me right now,” he said. He pulled Lorraine in close to him again. “Sometimes I thought I would never see all of you again, never have another Christmas at home. And I didn’t even dare imagine that Lorraine would still be single.” He looked down at Lorraine’s hand in his, the pretty ring. “But I could give you a list of things I’m thankful for that would take me all day to name off. I’m thankful for hot water and soap, for toothpaste, toothbrushes, a bed to sleep in, sheets, and pillows. I’m thankful for my razor, for good shoes, for decent clothes, for a warm house, just the smell of that turkey Mom’s cooking. I was thinking this week how wonderful a thing a set of fingernail clippers is. I could say a prayer at night, just giving thanks that I own a pair.”
“We forget about all those things,” Dad said.
“I’ll tell you something else. I’m thankful for my country. When I saw the Golden Gate Bridge, I cried like a little kid. I don’t think anyone in the world is as blessed as we are—especially right now. I’m proud we fought for the right things, but I’m also thankful we didn’t have to fight in our own land, the way so many countries did.”
“I agree with that,” Dad said. “In fact, I’ll only need about a minute and a half now, because that was something I was going to say.”
“Before you move on,” Wally said, “let me add one more thing. The Lord did something for me right after the war ended. I haven’t said much about it because it’s hard for me to explain. But one day, just when I could have been full of anger, I felt the Lord reach inside me and pull out all the hatred and resentment. I don’t know why I received that gift because a lot of the men will never get over those feelings. But I don’t feel any hatred toward anyone, and that’s what I’m most thankful for today. Of course, part of why I feel that way is that I know Lorraine never would have wanted me if I’d come home full of bitterness.”
Dad nodded and then seemed to consider for a time before he said, “Wally, I think you received that gift because you were ready for it. When it came, you didn’t fight it off; you recognized what a treasure it was.”
“Maybe. But I was angry, and then I wasn’t. And I didn’t do one thing to try to change.”
Beverly didn’t believe that. She knew Wally. She had always known how kind he really was. She remembered how sweet he had been to her. Even his teasing had always been fun, not hurtful.
Dad looked down at LaRue. “What about you, LaRue? What are you thankful for?”
“I’ve been thinking about the things Wally said—about having shoes and clothes and soap and everything. It bothers me that we have so much stuff while almost everyone in the world is suffering right now. It doesn’t seem right. We shouldn’t just be thankful, we should be doing something for those people. And maybe we shouldn’t be getting so much.”
Beverly saw everyone look at LaRue as though they were not quite certain she was serious. Finally, Wally said, “Excuse me. But when did Bobbi get home? I thought that was LaRue sitting over there.”
“Be quiet,” LaRue said, and she stuck out her tongue at Wally. “I really mean it.”
“Are you saying we’re too materialistic—that we commercialize Christmas too much? Because I seem to remember hearing that somewhere before.”
“Now I have nothing left to say,” Dad said, and everyone laughed.
“Okay, okay,” LaRue said. “I know how I’ve always been. But I still think what I just said is true.”
“Today, you feel that way,” Mom said. “What about when the after-Christmas sales begin tomorrow?”
“I don’t want to go this year,” LaRue said seriously, even defensively, and Beverly could tell that LaRue meant it.
Dad also seemed to trust in LaRue’s sincerity. “LaRue, I agree with you,” he said. “One of the things I wanted to tell all of you today was that your mom and I made a sizeable donation to the Church a few days ago. The Brethren are getting ready to ship food and clothing and supplies to Europe and Asia, and they’re trying to get permission to do it. When it happens, I want you to know that our family will be involved.”
Mom added, “We’ve had lots of letters from Alex, and he’s told us how much hunger there is all across Europe. And Bobbi tells us the same thing about Japan. We want to help, and not just on a one-time basis. We’ll keep doing as much as we can. Evil men may have started this war, but the starving children don’t deserve the punishment for it.”
Dad nodded, and then he said, “Go ahead, Bea. Tell us what you’re thankful for.”
“Oh, I think everyone has said it all. I could just sit here and look at Wally and Lorraine together and never ask for another blessing in my life.” She laughed. “I just hope they get busy and have some grandchildren for me, really fast. That’s where I’m still greedy.”
“I’ll do the best I can, Mom,” Wally said, and he grinned.
Beverly could hardly believe he would say such a thing—or that Mom would laugh about it. And LaRue only made things worse by saying, “Anything for Mom. Right, Wally?”
Beverly was sitting next to Dad’s chair, on the floor, where everyone could look at her. She stared straight at her own knees. She hoped no one would start teasing her about blushing, but she could feel her cheeks, her ears, catching fire. She was relieved when Dad ignored the talk and said, “Well, you have taken all the things I was going to say. I wanted to tell
you about the donation we made to the Church
, for this relief fund, but I’ve said that now. Why don’t we just kneel down for a family prayer, and I’ll say that.”
So everyone knelt, and Dad, in that strong voice of his, pronounced the words slowly and distinctly, “Our Father in Heaven, we have gathered here today as a family to celebrate the birth of thy Son, and to share our joy in having our own son back with us.”
Then the formality left his voice as he said, “Oh, Lord, how can we thank thee enough? When we lost Gene, we feared that we would never be happy again, but now we know the joy of meeting after a long absence, and we realize the day will come when we’ll experience an equal joy, or greater, as each of us, in turn, crosses the veil and finally gathers with thee, and with Gene. We thank thee that Wally and Lorraine will soon be joined for eternity, sealed forever to each other, and to us. Bea and I have little more to ask of thee, Father, except that we’ll have the strength to weather all the further tests that come to us in this life.”
He prayed then for Bobbi and Alex and Anna and little Gene, and for the Stoltz family, and asked that the entire family might gather on the following Christmas. When he was finished, everyone was silent, as though they were moved too deeply to break the mood they felt. Beverly saw LaRue look across the room at Wally. He nodded to her, and LaRue nodded back. Beverly didn’t know exactly what they were saying to one another, but she knew that LaRue was struggling with some things and that Wally had spent a lot of time with her lately, just talking. And now LaRue seemed pleased by something and willing to let Wally know that.
***
The Stoltzes were sitting in their little living room. It was Christmas afternoon, and Peter hadn’t arrived. What was worse was that they hadn’t heard from him for over a week. Anna thought it would be easier if she and her parents had known for sure that Peter was on his way, or that he would be coming sometime soon. What she feared was that the American military officials had decided not to let him leave the country. Because he’d fought in the war under an assumed name, there might be complications in establishing an identity, in receiving permission to travel. He might even be suspected as a Nazi. What Anna and her parents all kept clinging to was Alex’s promise that he had the right connections, that he could get something done.