The Christmas Women

by Elyse Douglas

  Trudie shook off the memories as she returned to the present, startled by Julie’s anxious voice. “Trudie... is Jon around?”

  “Yes... Julie. Jon is in town. He’s here for the reunion.”

  “I thought so. I saw it in the news this morning. Trudie... Mom’s not going to be able to attend your Christmas show. I’m so sorry. She would have loved it, but she’s just too weak.”

  The silence lengthened. Mary Ann and Kristen were still and silent, waiting. They saw the disappointment and sorrow on Trudie’s face.

  “I understand, Julie,” Trudie said, at a near whisper. “Do you want me to call Jon and ask him to come with me to the hospital?”

  Julie sighed into the phone, making a little whooshing sound. “It can’t hurt. She’s so proud of you all. In her mind, I guess she wants some kind of closure.”

  “We could all come: Kristen, Mary Ann and Jon, if you don’t think it would tire her out too much.”

  “At this point, it could only help. I know she’d love to see you all, and there may not be many more opportunities.”

  A few hours later, a little after eleven, The Christmas Women arrived at the hospital and met Julie, who looked weary and nervous. She thanked them for coming and told them the doctor was with her mother. It might be awhile before they could see her. She might have to be taken for more tests.

  Trudie suggested Julie go home and get some rest. They’d call her if there was any change. Julie hesitated for a moment, and then finally left.

  The girls had stopped at the mall and purchased a huge bouquet of flowers in a light pink vase. While Trudie went to the ladies’ room to add water and re-arrange the flowers, Kristen and Mary Ann found the waiting lounge. Kristen extracted another artfully wrapped present for Mrs. Childs, and when Mary Ann asked her what it was, Kristen just shook her head, her face pale and private.

  Trudie arrived with the vase of flowers and placed them on a blue plastic chair. The girls sat waiting, Kristen staring blankly, at nothing. Mary Ann sat upright, hands placed on her knees, eyes shut. She began to meditate.

  Trudie scrolled through her many email messages, responding to the important ones, many from Ray. Trudie texted him where they were and what was going on. He texted back, alarmed and concerned. He was sitting in church, listening distractedly to a sermon about The Real Meaning of Christmas.

  None of the girls wanted to approach the topic of Mrs. Childs not attending the Christmas show. It was too painful and depressing.

  Jon texted that he was on his way.

  Finally, Trudie shut her eyes to rest them and help clear her scattered thoughts. She heard muffled voices and a ringing phone. She smelled disinfectant when a cleaning cart rattled past.

  Jon arrived about twenty minutes later, carrying a shopping bag. He was instantly spotted by the staff, as they huddled near the elevator or peeked out from rooms, discretely whispering as they watched him stride to the Nurses Station. He waved and wished them a “Happy Sunday.”

  He found the girls in the lounge. His hair was smoothed back and his neon blue eyes were alive with unease. The three ladies were stunned to see him wearing dress shoes, pressed grey slacks, a white shirt and a blue patterned tie under his bomber jacket.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  The girls stood. “We don’t know,” Trudie said. “Her doctor’s with her. They said we have to wait.”

  Jon looked pointedly at Mary Ann. “I hear you do healing stuff.”

  “Healing stuff?” Mary Ann asked, almost at a laugh.

  “Yeah. Hey, I looked at your website. It’s cool. Can you heal Teach?”

  Kristen sat back down, listless and depressed. Trudie found a pair of reading glasses in her purse, slipped them on and stared into her phone, as new emails popped up.

  Jon turned to her. “Wow, look at you in glasses.”

  “I just need them for reading sometimes,” Trudie said, a little defensively. “My eyes are tired. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

  Jon studied the glasses. “I like the red rectangular shape. They’re similar to a pair my second ex-wife used to wear. She always ripped them off before she took a swing at me.”

  Jon swung his attention back to Mary Ann. “Can you heal Teach?”

  Mary Ann picked imaginary lint off her long gray sweater dress. “I’m not a miracle worker, Jon. I don’t have great mystical powers or anything.”

  Jon considered her answer. “Okay... so what the hell kind of healing do you do? Can you help her or not?”

  Before Mary Ann could answer, he looked down at Kristen, who was still somber, lost in thoughts. “Kristen, what’s the matter with you?”

  She didn’t look at him. “Nothing.”

  “Did you and Cole have fun last night?”

  All three girls tensed up.

  Kristen threw him a hard glance. “That’s none of your business!”

  He held up his hands, as if to pat down her sudden anger. “Hey, be cool, Kristen. I’m harmless.”

  “You have never been harmless, Jon. Never. You have always been inappropriate.”

  Jon chuckled. “Inappropriate? Me? No way. And, anyway, where did you learn that big word, inappropriate? In law school?”

  “Go to hell, Jon!” Kristen snapped. “You’re such an asshole. I don’t care if you are a big Hollywood actor.”

  “Touchy...” Jon said, turning his attention back to Trudie. “I really do like those glasses, Trudie. I think you look sexy as hell in them.”

  Trudie blushed a little, keeping her eyes glued to her phone. “Thank you.”

  His attention swung back to Mary Ann. “So can you help Teach, Mary Ann?”

  Mary Ann’s calm eyes patiently focused on him. “I want to try to help her feel better. More peaceful. Maybe I can help alleviate some of the pain.”

  Jon was preoccupied as he half-listened. “Mary Ann, I’d say you’ve gained about 20 pounds. Right?”

  Mary Ann sucked in a sharp breath. She closed her eyes, counting to five before reopening them. “Yes, Jon. I’ve gain 20 pounds. I overeat sometimes and I don’t always exercise as much as I should.”

  Jon nodded, thoughtfully. “I see... I see. Well, that’s not so bad, Mary Ann, when you think about it. Since high school, you’ve only gained one pound per year. And you know what?” he said, placing a finger at the side of his nose, examining her from top to bottom. “I like it. I like the weight. Yes, I do, and I like your long red hair. Yes. You look earthy and wise. How about that?”

  Kristen spoke up, sarcastically. “Thank God the great Jon Ketch approves. What would we do if he didn’t? Well, we’d all have to throw ourselves under a train like Anna Karenina, wouldn’t we?”

  Jon arched an eyebrow. “Now that’s a nasty thing to say, Kristen. And you’ve always been such a kind, unselfish and thoughtful little bitch.”

  Kristen shot up, ready to fight.

  “Enough!” Trudie said, hand up. “We’re here to see Mrs. Childs, not insult each other like we did in high school.”

  Jon grinned, shoving his hands into his bomber jacket. “Always the sensible one. Trudie. Old safe, sensible and cautious Trudie. That’s why we all love you so much. You keep your head on, when maybe it would be good if you lost it sometimes. Yep, just...” Jon made a sweeping move of his hand, as if swinging a sword across her throat. “Swap! Off with the head. Yep. Lose that scared, reclusive but very pretty head.”

  Mary Ann looked away and down. Kristen barked a laugh. Trudie glowered.

  A thin, fresh-faced nurse entered, her adoring eyes fixed on Jon. “You can see Mrs. Childs now, Mr. Ketch.”

  “Mr. Ketch!” he exclaimed, a dramatic hand covering his heart. “Oh, my, dear child of the healing arts, please call me Mr. Strange or Mr. Short, because I am only 5 feet seven inches tall, or even call me Mr. Daft, but never, please never, my dear girl, call me Mr. Ketch. It is like a swift dart, striking me in my poor, ole, loving heart.”

  The young nurse stood stationary, speechless
.

  The three girls exchanged exasperated glances. Kristen rolled her eyes. Mary Ann shook her head and Trudie shrugged.

  The women entered Mrs. Childs’ private room first, with Jon bringing up the rear. A nurse stood beside the bed, and Mrs. Childs lay with her eyes closed. The four former students stood in a semicircle at the foot of the bed, staring, waiting. Trudie placed the flowers on the broad window sill and returned to the others. A ray of sunlight lit up the yellow roses and white carnations.

  Jon spoke first. “Hello, Teach.”

  Mrs. Childs’ eyelids fluttered and slowly opened. Jon set his shopping bag down and nodded once, a short, abrupt downward slash of his head. Then he snapped a crisp military salute.

  “Captain Jon Ketch reporting for duty, Teach.”

  A flash of confusion crossed Mrs. Childs’ face and then, as if clouds were parting to reveal a sunny blue sky, Mrs. Childs lit up with a smile. “Jon? Is that you?”

  Jon held the salute. “Yes, Ma’am, and I have brought you presents from distant, exotic lands.”

  The ladies looked at the shopping bag as Jon picked it up and stepped to the right side of her bed.

  Mrs. Childs reached out a trembling hand. Jon took it. “Jon Ketch... You always were my favorite.”

  The girls grinned at each other.

  Jon made a sour face. “Teach, you know that’s not true. I was never anyone’s favorite anything—not even to my two ex-wives and three daughters. Well, okay one of my daughters thinks I’m okay, but she’s still young and impressionable. Give her another year and she’ll hate me too.”

  “I was just thinking about you, Jon. I think I had a dream about you,” Mrs. Childs said.

  “Goodness, gracious! Doctors have pills to help you with nightmares like me,” Jon said. “Those big blue pills can make me just, poof! Disappear. I’ll talk to the head Doc and take care of it.”

  Mrs. Childs’ head slowly turned toward the girls. Her smile broadened with pleasure. Her small eyes danced. “Oh, my, how lucky I am to have you all here with me! Come over here.”

  The three ladies did, taking her hand, kissing her cheek or forehead. “You...all of you are here. How nice.”

  Jon indicated toward the flowers. “The ladies brought you even more flowers. Aren’t they beautiful, Teach? The Christmas Women.”

  She turned to see them, pleased. “Oh, yes. I do love fresh flowers. Thank you, ladies. And look at you. You are such pretty, intelligent and classy ladies, aren’t you?”

  Jon gave his old teacher a doubtful look. “Teach... your eyesight is failing you. These dolls may be good to look at, but classy? Good heavens, no! Low-class hussies, every one!”

  Mrs. Childs managed a weak laugh. “Oh, Jon, you are such a scoundrel.”

  He bowed. “Thank you, my Lady.”

  Kristen edged forward, presenting her wrapped gift. “Another present for you, Mrs. Childs.”

  Mrs. Childs stared with surprise and interest. “Another present? You already gave me those precious earrings.”

  “I saw this in a little shop near our brownstone. I thought of you so I bought it,” Kristen said, handing her the present.

  Mrs. Childs shakily tugged off the bow and gently removed the shiny red paper, revealing a white box. She opened the lid, lifted the white tissue paper and peered in. Her face opened with pleasure.

  “Oh, my, look at this!” she exclaimed, startled by its beauty. She held it up for all to see. It was a gleaming 14k gold drop pendant, with peacock gray and white freshwater pearls, descending from a diamond-accented bale.

  Mrs. Childs was overwhelmed, unable to pull her eyes from the piece. “It’s absolutely beautiful! It must have cost a fortune.”

  Kristen crossed her arms, pleased. “It wasn’t a fortune. I got a deal. Let me help you with it.”

  Kristen took the necklace, gently draped it about her teacher’s neck and fastened it. Mrs. Childs beamed. “I feel so special in it. So regal. Thank you, Kristen. Thank you for your thoughtfulness and generosity.”

  Jon reached into the shopping bag. “Okay, now it’s my turn, Teach. Everybody step back and give me room! These gifts are one-of-a kind and you won’t find them anywhere else in the entire world! Are you ready? Your first exotic present from distant shores is…” Jon drew it out and held it high. “Soap on a Rope!”

  Everyone laughed, as he laid it on her bed.

  “No more reaching for that soap that slips from your little fingers, Teach. Hey, it will make a nice necklace too. Much nicer than Kristen’s.”

  Mrs. Childs laughed.

  “Next!” Jon yanked out the next gift. “A power bar! Extra protein to fight off those germs... and those probing, meddling doctors!”

  There was more laughter.

  “Next! Voila! Sani Flush, the greatest of the toilet bowl cleaners! Dissolves stains with bubbling action!”

  Mrs. Childs’ body shook with laughter. Even the nurse laughed.

  “And finally, but not the least.”

  Jon swept the faces with his bold eyes. He drew out an artfully wrapped 11x7 gift. He gently handed it to Mrs. Childs. She examined it, shaking it.

  “What’s this, Jon?”

  “Open it, Teach. It’s something I’ve kept for 20 years. Go ahead, open it.”

  The room gathered into curious silence.

  The nurse helped Mrs. Childs sit up, her back against two pillows. She slowly nudged off the red bow, slipped a finger under the taped seam and released it. With a final questioning glance at Jon, she peeled back the paper.

  When she saw it, she gasped. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. The girls moved closer to get a better look.

  Mrs. Childs was so overcome, she couldn’t speak. She stared at it, enthralled, before passing it to Trudie.

  Trudie held it up for all to see. Their faces softened; their eyes grew misty. It was a gold-framed photograph, taken on the Deer Lake High School stage during the final night of the Christmas show twenty years ago. Mrs. Childs stood in the center with her four students. On one side stood Jon and Trudie. On the other, were Kristen and Mary Ann.

  Mrs. Childs wore an emerald green dress with a red scarf, tied elegantly about her neck. Her expression was that of a serious director: firm, focused and confident. Jon had a squinty smile, and was wearing his bright green elf costume, complete with pointed ears and shoes.

  The Christmas Girls wore short, tight red dresses, with white faux fur hats and 3-inch red heels. Trudie looked stiff and constrained by her prettiness, her smile only half-formed. Kristen seemed to purr in her snug red outfit, her expression a coquettish invitation. Mary Ann’s warm smile and lifted chin revealed her mystery and unpredictable charm.

  Mrs. Childs’ grateful eyes slowly lifted, focusing on her former students through blurry vision. The nurse handed her a tissue and Mrs. Childs gently dabbed at her eyes.

  She nodded several times. “Well... here you are, and I’m feeling so sentimental. I want to write an autobiography and say hearts and flowers about you all...”

  She wiped her eyes again, while the emotion subsided. “I wish we could do that Christmas show again. It was so much fun.”

  FIFTEEN

  Mary Ann insisted on staying with Mrs. Childs until Julie arrived. Meanwhile, Trudie and Kristen drove to the house to collect the girls and drive over to the Sugar Hill Methodist Church to prepare for their 1 o’clock rehearsal. Jon decided to stay behind with Mary Ann. He told Trudie to have somebody else read the part of Scrooge until he got there.

  After the nurse left Mrs. Childs’ room, Mary Ann sat down next to her, while Jon remained standing at the foot of the bed, his arms folded, watching with keen interest.

  “Mrs. Childs,” Mary Ann said, “are you comfortable if I work with you the way I did the last time? I may touch your arm, or your head, and maybe the area around your heart. Is that okay with you?”

  Mrs. Childs had grown noticeable weary. Her face had drained from the earlier pink. Jon looked on, apprehensive.


  “Yes, Mary Ann. But if you don’t mind, I’m just going to close my eyes and sleep for a little bit. I’m suddenly very tired.”

  “Yes, you just sleep, Mrs. Childs. Just relax and go to sleep.”

  Mary Ann stood and placed a gentle hand on Mrs. Childs’ forehead. Jon watched her, carefully, as Mary Ann closed her eyes. Her mouth moved ever-so-slightly, as if she were saying a prayer or repeating some kind of mantra. This was not foreign to Jon, whose first wife had had Reiki sessions to relieve migraine headaches. Throughout his adult life, Jon had visited ashrams in California and New York, a Zen monastery in Japan and an ashram in Mumbai, India, where he’d met a holy man—a man said to be enlightened. Jon did not talk about this or discuss his daily meditation practice with anyone. It was deeply personal; he kept it a secret.

  He watched Mary Ann carefully as she spread her hands slightly above Mrs. Childs’ chest, repeating silent prayers. Twice, she stroked her teacher’s hair and blew softly across her face. She went to the foot of the bed and lovingly held Mrs. Childs feet, while taking in deep breaths, and then letting them out slowly.

  Jon continued watching in admiration, as Mary Ann worked. Within minutes, Jon become aware of a deep silence enveloping the room—an ineffable live thing that seemed to pulse. This quiet helped ease his restless thoughts and relax his nervous energy.

  Time seemed to stand still as Mary Ann moved to the opposite side of the bed, repeating certain movements, again touching Mrs. Childs on the forehead and stroking her hair.

  Jon witnessed his old teacher’s breathing deepen, her body grow still and peaceful. He closed his eyes and drifted into an unutterable peace—a soft velvety peace that he’d felt only one other time in his life. When he was in India, sitting cross-legged at the feet of that holy man.