Christmas at Harrington's
Page 13
“Thank you so much,” Lena told Mrs. Davies as they carefully folded the finished garments, placing them in the fabric store bags. “I’m sure I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Mrs. Davies chuckled. “You might’ve done it, but you’d have been sewing clear into the wee hours of the morning.”
“I wanted to ask you about the man you saw earlier,” Lena said as Jemima was heading out the door. “Do you recall what he looked like?”
Mrs. Davies frowned. “Well, I’d venture he was probably around fifty. Looked like a businessman. About six feet tall. Serious expression. Sound like anyone you know?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. But the disturbing truth was it sounded a bit like her ex-husband. Why would Daniel be looking for her?
Lena pushed thoughts of Daniel from her mind as she followed Jemima up the staircase. She couldn’t believe the Mrs. Santa costume was nearly finished. She’d have to do something special to show her appreciation to Mrs. Davies.
Jemima brushed her teeth then got into her pajamas while Lena hunted down the missing red tights, promising to wash them and hang them by the heat register in her room.
“Sunshine’s water looks a little cloudy,” Lena observed.
“Should we change it?”
“How about if I fill the bucket before I go to bed and we’ll do it tomorrow.”
Finally it was 9:30 and nearly time for Sally to come home. Jemima was tucked into her rollaway bed, but she still wanted Lena to read her the Christmas book they’d brought home from the library. Though tired, Lena agreed. She pulled the chair next to Jemima’s bed and opened the picture book. To her surprise, it was another kind of ’Twas the Night Before Christmas story.
“This book is about the very first Christmas,” she told Jemima. “The night when Jesus was born. But it’s got the exact same kind of rhythm as the other story.” She began to read, using the same sort of lilting and dramatic tones as she did when reciting the other poem.
“I like this one even better than the other story,” Jemima said after Lena closed the book.
“So do I,” Lena admitted. “It’s nice to remember how Jesus was born in a stable with the animals and shepherds and that star shining brightly.”
“But I still like the Saint Nicholas story too.”
“Me too.” Lena kissed Jemima good night and turned off the light. “Now go to sleep, little elf. We have a big day tomorrow.”
After Sally got home, Lena filled the fish bucket with water and washed out Jemima’s red tights. Finally she returned to her room and the last bit of sewing. She attached the ribbons and bells that would hang from the vest and put bells on Jemima’s elf hat. Their costumes had really turned out nicely, and the frilly white “old lady” blouse that Moira had given her looked perfect beneath the vest.
Lena laid out her clothes as well as the red shoes, which might’ve been a bit over the top for Mrs. Santa, but why wouldn’t Mrs. Claus love good shoes?
Lena set the picture book from the library by her purse. She’d decided to read it for story time tomorrow. Not expected, perhaps, but it might do children good to hear what Christmas was really about.
“I’m so excited,” Jemima said as she finished up her instant oatmeal and milk. They’d eaten breakfast in the shared kitchen downstairs, and as Lena replaced the quart of milk in the fridge, she was impressed that no one had touched it. But then she’d marked it with Jemima’s name. It seemed the tenants respected children.
Lena put their bowls and spoons in the dishwasher then wiped down the table. “Time to go,” she announced. As they passed through the foyer of the boardinghouse, several tenants, including Mrs. Davies, stopped to admire their outfits.
“Here comes Mrs. Santa,” TJ said. “And her little elf too.”
“Don’t you two look cute,” Mrs. Davies said. “Spin around, Lena, I want to see how far that skirt can swirl.”
Lena laid her coat and purse on a chair and obliged her, and everyone clapped.
“Who knew we had celebrities living here?” Lucy said. “Did you see today’s paper, Lena?”
“No.” Lena gathered her things.
“You’re quite the town controversy.” Lucy held up the paper. “You should see the editorials.”
“Oh.” Lena shrugged. “Well, Jemima, we should get go – ”
“Wait,” Sally called as she rushed down the stairs with her disposable camera. “I want some pictures first.” So Mrs. Santa and her elf posed, and finally they were on their way.
As they walked through town, a number of people stopped and looked, and some even commented. Mostly the comments were positive and fun. And if they weren’t, Lena, in an attempt to avoid trouble, stayed right in her Mrs. Santa character.
At the library, they were met by Grace. She shuffled them into a back room where they made adjustments to their costumes and Lena switched from the short black boots to the red shoes.
“Oh, you two look perfect,” Grace told them. “Thank you so much for doing this on such short notice. Our children’s librarian is doing the first story, then she’ll introduce you and you take it from there. Does that sound okay?”
“Sounds lovely.” Lena smiled.
Before long, Mrs. Santa and Jemima Elf made their way through the library. The bells on the vest raised a few heads, but these were followed with smiles when patrons saw who was passing their way.
“And here she is, boys and girls,” a young woman said. “Mrs. Santa!”
The kids looked her direction and clapped enthusiastically.
“And it looks like she’s brought one of her elves along too.”
With the picture book tucked under her arm, Mrs. Santa sat in the large rocker. “Why don’t you sit right here,” she said to her elf. Then she turned to the children, taking in their expectant faces. “Good morning, boys and girls,” she said. “I’m so happy to see you this morning. And do you know what?” She waited for their responses, which were varied. “It’s just ten days until Christmas.” She held up both hands with fingers spread. “That means Santa has to be really, really busy. And that’s why he asked me to come visit you instead of him.”
“Are you really Mrs. Santa?” a boy asked.
She held her hands out, palms up. “What do you think?” Several children responded in the affirmative and she continued. “My husband, Mr. Claus, asked me to tell you something.” Again they responded. “He wants to know if you’ve been being good. Raise your hand if you’ve been good.” She waited as hands waved in the air. “Now, put your hands down. Santa also asked if any of you have been bad. Raise your hands if you’ve been bad.” No one raised a hand. “Oh, really?” She looked at their guilty faces. “No one has been bad?”
A little girl with short brown hair timidly raised a hand. “I was bad,” she confessed.
Mrs. Santa nodded. “What did you do?”
“I was mean to my brother.”
She smiled. “Well, I have a little secret to tell you,” she said quietly. “Santa knows that all children are naughty sometimes. And he understands that it’s not possible to be good and nice all of the time. Sometimes we’re tired or hungry or just plain cranky and we can’t help but be naughty. Isn’t that right?”
Now they were all nodding and agreeing, and several more confessions erupted. “Mostly Santa wants you to try your best,” she continued. “When you make a mistake, be honest about it. And if you hurt someone, tell them you’re sorry. That’s what makes Santa happiest. Because he knows that no one can be good all of the time. Right?”
“Right!” they shouted back.
Next she led them in a couple of Christmas songs – “Jingle Bells” and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Then she told them about how Santa was busy finishing up making and wrapping presents and how he had to check his maps, plan his route, check on the weather, see that his reindeer were in tip-top shape, and oh, so many things.
“It’s such a busy time at the North Pole.” She sighed as if ti
red. “It was actually rather nice that I could get away for a little break.” She picked up the book. “And having this break allowed me to take time to remember what Christmas is really all about. Because sometimes we get so busy trying to get everything done that we forget.” She asked if any of them knew what Christmas was really supposed to be about. As expected, she got a variety of answers pelted at her, including “Santa Claus,” “toys,” “reindeer,” and “snow,” and even a “baby Jesus” was called out.
“Well, some people might not realize that Santa and I know the real meaning of Christmas, and that we take time to remember why this is such a special time. That’s why I chose this book to read today.” She started to read in a quiet yet dramatic tone.
’Twas the night before Christmas when all through the stable
Not a creature was stirring, though plenty were able.
The ox and the cow and the goat and the sheep,
All comfy and cozy, had drifted to sleep.
She pointed to the animals in the illustration. “See the cow and chickens and sheep all fast asleep?” The children listened attentively as she continued with the tale – how the animals all woke up and their calm, quiet stable got a little crazy, how the baby was born, and how the shepherds and wise men came. Finally, the last page:
But back in the stable, the critters were awed
To know that this child was the true Son of God!
And so they bowed down, and worshiped the King,
And in their own way, sweet praises did ring.
To Jesus they sang, so real and so right:
“A blessed Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
She smiled as she closed the book. “That, boys and girls, is the real reason we celebrate Christmas.” They all nodded as if soaking this in. “And that is why Santa asked me to come here and talk to you, to remind you about Jesus’s birthday. Because remember what I told you earlier about how it’s impossible to be good all of the time?”
She was answered with a few yeses and nods. “God understands that. And that’s why he sent his Son to forgive us and to teach us to forgive others. Doesn’t it feel good when someone forgives you for making a mistake?” More nods and yeses. “So Santa and I want you to remember that when you’re thinking about Christmas.” Then she held out her arms and called out, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good day!”
As she stood to make her way past the children, she noticed a number of adults on the perimeter. A few cameras flashed. Thankful that Jemima’s large elf hat completely covered her hair and hung down almost to her nose, Lena took her hand and led her away.
CHAPTER
14
As Mrs. Santa and Jemima Elf made their way out of the children’s section, a tall, angular woman with a dark scowl stopped them. “What do you think you’re doing, reading a book like that in a public library?”
Lena blinked. “I was invited to read a Christmas story. The story I chose was about the very first Christmas.”
“But this is a public library. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard about the separation of church and state.”
Lena held up her hands. “I’m not from a church.”
“But you’re preaching.”
“I was reading a children’s book.”
“About Jesus.” She spat the name as if it left a foul taste in her mouth.
Lena nodded. “Jesus’s birth is why we celebrate Christmas. Note the word Christmas. It’s because – ”
“But not all of us are Christians,” the woman persisted. “For your information, I’m Jewish and my son was here for story hour and – ”
“Jesus was Jewish too.”
She waved her hand. “I don’t care about that.”
“Well, I’m sorry if the story offended you. If nothing else, you could simply consider it a history lesson for your child.”
“History or a fairy tale?”
Lena smiled. “Kind of like Santa Claus? Now, if you’ll excuse us.” She continued leading Jemima away.
“Oh, dear,” Grace said as they regrouped in the back room. “I didn’t know you had planned to read a book like that.”
“It’s a library book,” Lena pointed out.
“About the first Christmas,” Jemima said innocently.
“Yes, I know. And I don’t have a problem with that myself. But there was a reporter here, and now he’d like to speak to you.”
Lena agreed to talk to the reporter, saying almost the same thing she’d said to the peeved woman. After a few questions, a small crowd began to gather, including the children. “You see,” she told the reporter, “children are capable of understanding that Christmas is more than just Santa and gifts. Right, kids?” They responded positively. “And too many people treat children as if they have half a brain, but we know that they have a whole brain. Right, kids?” Even more positive responses came from this. “And children like to know the truth.”
“But coming in here as Mrs. Santa and then telling a Jesus story?” the reporter persisted.
“Check your history books,” she told him. “Santa Claus and Jesus have enjoyed a good long relationship for centuries. Even the origins of Santa Claus, Father Christmas, and Saint Nicholas are linked to Christ and the church.”
“You should listen to Mrs. Santa,” the girl with the short brown hair said. “She knows what she’s talking about.”
Fortunately this caused a number of spectators to laugh. Mrs. Santa focused all her attention on the children and allowed their parents to take pictures of them with her. Eventually the reporter gave up and left. Still, she had no idea what kind of story he planned to write. News in town must’ve been slow if he couldn’t find something more sensational than Mrs. Santa at the library.
Finally Lena and Jemima gathered their coats and things and were attempting a quiet exit when Beth Phillips surprised them near the front doors. “I need to talk to you, Lena,” she said.
Lena looked at Beth’s elf costume and smiled. “I see you still have your job at Harrington’s.”
“I’m not sure there’s going to be a job anymore,” Beth admitted as the three of them went outside. “I mean Camilla did hire a new Mrs. Santa yesterday – a saleslady from the store who fit into your old costume – but nobody likes her, especially the kids.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Cassidy was so upset that she wouldn’t even work with her. And then she got sick and had to go into the hospital yesterday.”
“The hospital?”
“Her white cell count is messed up again. She’s getting a transfusion today and they’re keeping her for another night.”
“Poor thing.” Lena shook her head.
“Anyway, I thought it would cheer her up if you could visit her.”
Lena sighed. “I wish I could.”
“My dad’s here and he can give you a ride,” Beth offered. “It won’t take long.”
“That’s not the problem,” Lena told her. “Camilla made me promise not to speak to Cassidy again.”
Beth frowned. “But she’s probably changed her mind by now.”
“I don’t see why.”
Beth grabbed Lena’s arm. “Just come and talk to Dad, okay? He tried to find you yesterday at Miller House, but you were gone.”
So he was the mysterious man. That was a relief. “I don’t see how it will do any good, Beth. Camilla is the one who needs to give me the okay.”
“Dad’s been talking to her, Lena.” Beth pulled harder. “Just come and hear what he has to say. Okay?”
“Come on, Lena.” Jemima pulled on her other hand. “Listen to Beth.”
Lena chuckled. “Too bad that reporter’s not around to see poor Mrs. Santa being mugged by two elves. Now that’s a story.”
When they were settled in Sam’s car, Lena asked him, “So what’s going on, that you’d send your daughter to kidnap Mrs. Santa?”
“I need to talk to you,” he said as he drove out of the library parking lot.
> “I’m listening.” She folded her arms in front of her.
“First of all, will you please go visit Cassidy?”
“Camilla told me in no uncertain terms that – ”
“Camilla doesn’t have to know . . . yet.”
“Oh?” Lena studied him as he focused on the traffic.
“Camilla’s number one concern is Cassidy. If you being with Cassidy lifts her spirits, then Camilla will be okay. I promise.”
“Really? How can you promise?”
“It’s a long story, Lena.” He turned down the street where a hospital sign was posted. “But for starters, could you go talk to Cassidy? Cheer her up the best you can.”
“I’d be glad to.”
“And then, if you’re not too busy playing Mrs. Santa today, I’d like to discuss some other things with you.”
Lena wasn’t sure how to respond. She already suspected that Sam might be representing Camilla legally – an assumption she’d made when she saw him at Harrington’s directly after she’d been fired. Hopefully Camilla didn’t plan to take some kind of legal action against Lena for loss of revenue at the store or for not fully disclosing her criminal history.
“Here we are,” Sam said as he pulled up to the hospital entrance. “You go on up and we’ll wait in the lobby since Cassidy isn’t supposed to have more than one visitor at a time.”
“What if Camilla is there?”
“She had to be back at the store by noon, which is why Beth and I promised to look in on Cass. She’s in room 408 on the fourth floor.”
Lena reached for the door handle then turned back to Sam. “This isn’t a setup, is it?”
He shook his head. Something about the sadness in his dark eyes convinced her to trust him. Or else she was being a fool again. Whatever the case, she really wanted to see Cassidy. She wanted a chance to clear things up with her . . . if she could.
As she rode the elevator up, she wondered about Sam and Camilla’s relationship. Perhaps it was more than just professional. Not that she cared. Most of all she cared about Cassidy right now. She removed her heavy coat, hanging it over one arm. Poor Cassidy . . . she’d worked so hard to get the Mrs. Santa thing going and then it had disintegrated.