The Christmas Women

by Elyse Douglas

  “Why just you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like Marylyn was an affectionate mother. A practical one, yes, but not terribly affectionate. But she had... has class.”

  Kristen lowered her head. “And why haven’t you remarried?”

  “You’ve already asked me that.”

  “And you haven’t answered.”

  He spoke at a near whisper. “You know why. I’ve told you why.”

  “Because you’re still in love with me?”

  Cole was quiet.

  “Have you talked to Trudie?”

  “Oh, we’ve been polite to each other. She’s chilly toward me, but then I always did find her a kind of cold person.”

  “She’s not cold,” Kristen said, defensively. “Trudie is one of the nicest people in this world. She’s thoughtful and generous and good. I wish I had one thimbleful of her goodness.”

  Cole was surprised by Kristen’s rigorous defense. “And you’re so bad, Kristen?”

  Kristen just shook her head.

  “Are you so kind when it comes to Mary Ann?”

  “Mary Ann is a sweet girl, but I just don’t get all the occult stuff—all the New Age business she’s into. It’s just too far out for me. But I love her. How can you not love Mary Ann?”

  “But you don’t like yourself?”

  “I’ve been in therapy for five years. I know myself. My strengths and limitations. I know that I never seem to be satisfied with things the way they are. I always want something newer or better or... I don’t know, maybe nobody really likes himself—herself—very much.”

  Cole stretched his legs out, pulling his ski cap over his ears. “You and I are a lot alike, Kristen. You’re aggressive and willful. I’m ambitious and steady. Does that make us bad? That’s just who we are. I broke up with you 17 or 18 years ago because I was afraid we’d wind up beating each other up or something.”

  “You just didn’t believe in us, Cole.”

  “I’m not sure about that. We were just kids.”

  “So now that we’re all grown up, how has it changed?”

  “You’re still married.”

  “And if I wasn’t?”

  Cole stood up, slapping his shoulders to keep warm. He looked down at her. “Kristen... I have loved you for a long time. I made a mistake. I’ve told you that. You know what I want now. I want us to forget the past and have the fun of falling in love all over again. I want us to have the life we didn’t have.”

  “Because you dumped me.”

  “Okay. Okay! But now is now. Get over it, Kristen. What do we do now?”

  Kristen pushed up, stamping her cold feet. “So you want me to throw away my marriage, and completely rearrange my life because we had a thing in high school twenty years ago and maybe we could pick up where we left off?”

  “Let me ask you this. Are you happy, Kristen?” Cole said, firmly. “Can you stand there and tell me that you’re happy with your life the way it is? Maybe a change is exactly what you need. Maybe our love is still alive, waiting for us to act on it. Maybe it’s time we both made ourselves and each other happy.”

  Kristen looked at him for a moment, pocketed her hands and turned away. “And maybe we’re just fools. Maybe we should just make crazy love for a few days, get it out of our systems, and then go on with our lives.”

  “Is that what you really want?”

  Kristen spun around. “I don’t know what the hell I want! I wish I’d never come back here. I wish I’d never seen you again. I don’t need this in my life. I don’t! I have a husband who loves me, a wonderful son who I’d die for, and a good, successful career. I don’t need this.”

  Cole reached for her, pulled her into him and kissed her. Kristen did not resist. She stood on tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back, long and deep.

  After Don’s party, Oscar drove Mary Ann and the girls back to Trudie’s house. When she told the girls to go on inside and get ready for bed, they gave her a quizzical look, but obeyed.

  Mary Ann and Oscar sat in silence.

  “Nice girls,” Oscar finally said.

  Mary Ann watched the girls wrestle with the key, shove the door open and enter. “Yes, they are. They’re so excited about being in the show. Jon gave Carly the part of the Ghost of Christmas Present and he made Lynn his script assistant.”

  “Jon is as wild as ever, maybe even more so. He’s a loose cannon.”

  Mary Ann chuckled. “He is that, all right.”

  “You’re lucky to have your girls,” Oscar said.

  “Why didn’t you and your wife have kids?” Mary Ann asked.

  Oscar frowned at the thought. “We talked about it.” He laughed, a little embarrassed. “Well, we tried for awhile but...” His voice trailed away into silence. “But then, I guess we were both so engrossed in our work. Amy was a very gifted and dedicated scientist. She won a couple of prestigious awards, you know.”

  “And you still miss her, don’t you, Oscar?”

  Oscar turned to look out the window into the darkness. “I miss the rhythm of our lives and our marriage; the tacit understanding we shared. I miss the deep respect we had for each other. I miss our conversations. I miss the sound of her quiet, precise voice. The house has so many empty rooms in it now.”

  Oscar was suddenly anxious. “Am I talking too much, Mary Ann?”

  “Talk away. I’ve always enjoyed listening and it’s good to catch up after all these years.”

  “I’m sorry. Here I am with you and I keep talking about Amy.”

  “It’s okay, Oscar. Really.”

  Oscar placed his hands on the steering wheel, staring ahead, allowing the memories to rise and fall and then fade. “Were you lonely after your divorce?”

  “No, not at all. I was glad to be out of it. Robert, my husband, loved flying airplanes and he loved chasing women around in those airplanes, and later on, in hotel rooms. I got it all first-hand from a stewardess who wanted revenge after he’d dumped her. ”

  Oscar scratched his head. “I don’t understand.”

  Mary Ann released the top button on her coat. “Robert is a commercial airline pilot.”

  “Oh, yes, I see. Of course. Stewardess.”

  “And he had a girl in nearly every town, or so I learned. Thinking back on it, I don’t know why we got married. I suppose I thought he was exciting and so different from me. I thought I should be with somebody different from me. And maybe, for awhile, I was in love with him. I don’t know what he saw in me. And then he started calling me his little ‘Air Head’ because I was reading astrological charts and developing a clientele. And then I studied healing and out-of-body projection and became a part of that community.”

  Mary Ann gave Oscar a swift glance to gauge his reaction. She saw his eyebrow lift in mild astonishment.

  She continued on, unfazed, but smiling at his reaction. Mary Ann was long past caring what people thought of her and her eccentric life.

  “Robert thought calling me ‘my little Air Head’ was cute. Or ‘Astro Girl’, that was another one of his nicknames for me. It was so demeaning. That’s around the time I knew I’d made a big mistake when I married him. Now, I think I must have been an air head to have married him. But anyway, I came face-to-face with the old, old story. We had two daughters. I didn’t want to break up our home. I didn’t want my girls to lose their father.”

  Oscar listened with interest, not moving. “But you did divorce him.”

  “Yes... I couldn’t take it any longer. It was making me physically ill to be around him, knowing what I knew. I sat down and told my girls that Robert and I were divorcing. I didn’t tell them everything, of course, but I told them we were splitting up, but that we were still good friends—even though it hurts to even say that, because we are not good friends at all. But I’d never say anything bad about Robert to my daughters. I want them to have their own relationship with him.”

  A motor scooter sputtered by and a dog down the s
treet began yapping at it, shattering the quiet.

  “Would you like to take a little walk?” Oscar asked.

  Mary Ann nodded.

  Outside, they strolled leisurely along the sidewalk, past a snowy lawn and an illuminated plastic Santa sled with reindeer. Christmas trees and candelabras lit up the windows of nearby houses, and the low murmur of distant traffic was amplified in the tranquil silence.

  “Do you know what astrological sign I am?” Oscar asked.

  “You don’t believe in astrology, Oscar. Remember? You never did.”

  “Maybe I could learn to believe in it, if you were around to teach me. Maybe I could learn a lot of things. Maybe I could learn to be more open to things. That wouldn’t be a bad thing, would it?”

  Mary Ann was gently startled by his obvious overture. She didn’t speak.

  “I’ve thought about you a lot, Mary Ann, in the last few months. So many old memories came back and I recalled the oddest details. The way you walked, as if you were never in a hurry to get to the next place or to the next thing. You took good, solid, and sure steps. I remembered your voice, so feminine, and comforting and assured. And I remembered your gentleness.”

  Mary Ann looked over, uneasy. She was quiet, listening, marveling at Oscar’s compliments—maybe not the most romantic of compliments, but surely heartfelt.

  Oscar continued. “It’s odd, isn’t it, that after Amy passed away, within a week or so, memories of you came back into my mind. I found you on the internet... saw your website. I almost sent you an email but then I guess I just got nervous about it and decided not to.”

  “You’re a Virgo, Oscar. You’re a Virgo with Capricorn rising. This is what it means: You do what is expected, and then some. You’re a calm, cool, and collected business-type. You’re very dependable, always ready to help out by rolling up your sleeves and lending a hand, because you’re a loyal team player. Success in life is nearly always guaranteed. You are considered indispensable at home and at work. You love being able to sit down in your easy chair at the end of a day and enjoy that “job well done” feeling. It is easy for you to become a workaholic. You can be overly serious and somewhat detached and you may have a limited view of life.”

  Oscar drew a breath and blew it out toward the sky. He stopped walking, and Mary Ann paused beside him. He looked at her, pocketing his hands.

  “I didn’t know you knew me so well. I sound so boring.”

  “I’m sure your wife didn’t think you were boring.”

  “But you think I am?”

  “I didn’t think you were in high school, Oscar. I truly cared for you. You were smart, well-read and kind to me. I sense you are still a kind, sincere man.”

  Oscar worked on a thought. Mary Ann saw he was wrestling with it.

  “What about relationships, Mary Ann? What about love?”

  Mary Ann resumed walking, and Oscar followed.

  “I think you’re capable of great love, Oscar. It sounds like you loved your wife very deeply.”

  “Yes, I did. I loved her more than I thought was possible.”

  “I suspect you still do love her.”

  Oscar slowed to a stop again, deep in concentration, lost in his own stare. Mary Ann paused, watching him with keen interest.

  “Mary Ann, is there any chance you and I could meet sometime, and get to know each other better? We could see if there’s a possibility of developing a good and respectful relationship.”

  Mary Ann kicked at the snow piled near the curb, slanting him a glance. “Do you mean that you would like us to develop a possible romantic relationship, Oscar? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  Oscar swallowed. She saw his Adam’s apple move. When he spoke, his voice was soft and breathy. “Yes. Yes, that’s what I mean, Mary Ann. I have always thought very highly of you, you know. Yes, a possible romantic relationship. Could we try that?”

  He stared at her, and his eyes filled with feeling. She held his stare, smiling.

  “Why not, Oscar? Why not?”

  EIGHTEEN

  Trudie managed to push Jon into the car, slam the car in gear and race out of the side entrance of Rusty’s before the police car arrived. It came bouncing into the lot, braking, skidding to a stop. The crowd was already dispersing. Trudie wondered who had called the police. She recognized many familiar faces in the crowd, even if she wasn’t friends with them. After all, she’d lived in Deer Lake her entire life and Rusty’s was the most popular hangout. Would one of them tell the police she had taken Jon and driven away? Would Big Frank file an assault charge against Jon? Strangely enough, all that possibility excited her. At least she wasn’t sitting at home reading a book by the fire. She was out having an adventure—a crazy one, yes—but an adventure nonetheless.

  Trudie glanced over at Jon, who was slumped and brooding, the adrenalin draining from his body, the alcohol and the fight leaving him tired and blunted.

  “Jon, are you okay? Are you hurt? Is your mouth okay?”

  Jon felt his face and opened and closed his jaw. “Old Big Frank had a good right. He just didn’t know what to do with it.”

  “Should I drive you to the emergency room?”

  “No way.”

  “So you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “Because you were just in a fight with a big man who would have clobbered most men his own size.”

  Jon made an ugly face. “That guy? No way. He’s out of shape, slow, stupid and drunk.”

  “You’re drunk too.”

  “Yes, but I’m not fat, slow or stupid. Well, okay, I’m not fat or slow. Big Frank fought stupid and I knew he would. I’ve been in a lot of fights, both on screen and off. You get so you can read a guy. Big Frank was all mouth and puffed up confidence, with nothing to back it up. He thought he could take me with just his bulk. That was stupid.”

  “Where’s your motel, Jon?”

  “I don’t want to go back there.”

  “Where then?”

  Jon turned his face to her and, in the dim light, she again saw his raw yet sensitive good looks—the looks she’d found so attractive in high school. The good looks that hit the camera and the big screen with grace and force. His chosen roles were nearly always characters who were plucky, volatile and sassy. You couldn’t pull your eyes from him when he was acting in a scene. You never knew how that character would respond—what he’d say or do. Just like the real Jon sitting beside her.

  He was entrancing, frightening and wildly attractive, and Trudie was sick of her quiet, predictable life. She wanted a change. She needed and longed for a change, and she was determined to make a change. No more the careful girl, the cool withholding girl. The nice dental hygienist who lives in that old remodeled Victorian House like some Jane Austin character.

  While watching the fight, she’d first been disturbed, then surprised, by her swift change of sensation. She wasn’t upset or turned off by it in the least. On the contrary, she felt sexually aroused at the sight of Jon punching that big oaf in the side of the head and knocking him down. She had even cheered along with the others. Even Ray had given her a surprised glance, as if to say “Do I know you?”

  She’d felt a thrill and an elation she hadn’t felt in years. Jon had always done that to her, even in high school. Jon Ketch was a thrill ride in an amusement park. Jon Ketch was a drug that got you high. Jon Ketch was a charismatic wonder, like some spiraling planet far out in the universe about to collide with another planet. He was a black hole mystery. He was a super nova waiting to happen. And sometimes, you didn’t have to wait too long.

  “Where do you want to go, Jon?” Trudie repeated.

  “I want us to go back to that ghost town and to the freaky house. The one we went to twenty years ago.”

  “Jon, that’s over twenty miles away! It may not even be there anymore.”

  “So let’s giddy-up, then, and find out. Twenty years and twenty miles. Sounds synchronistic or something.”

/>   Trudie obeyed. She found Highway 11, turned right, and drove off into the unpredictable darkness toward Shaffer, Ohio, an old boom-and-bust town once known for its mining and timber.

  Jon’s chin slowly fell into his chest and then his head rolled right, resting against the window, his hands folded in his lap. His snoring was soft and rhythmic. Trudie glanced over occasionally and smiled. During their senior year, Mary Ann had drawn up an astrological chart for Jon, declaring that Jon had the potential to be known in the world, even famous. Trudie struggled to remember. Something about Jon’s Jupiter being in the sign of Leo, which meant “the great actor”, and his moon being “at the top of his chart,” indicating possible fame.

  Jon had laughed at her analysis, saying “When I do become a famous actor, I’ll return to Deer Lake, Ohio and thumb my nose at every girl who refused to go out with me because I was too short or too damned nuts.”

  Trudie grinned, straining her eyes to see ahead. She wasn’t entirely sure she knew where the old town was. There had only been a few shacks around twenty years ago. She remembered crossing an old bridge. As they’d rattled across it, Jon had said, “I can’t swim, Trudie, so if this thing collapses, you’ll have to save me. You will save me, won’t you?”

  “Sure, Jon. I’ll always save you,” she’d said.

  Fortunately, Trudie saw a leaning green sign with fading letters that read HISTORIC BRIDGE AHEAD. That was it.

  Minutes later they were bumping across the rickety wooden bridge that spanned a small scenic river, not that Trudie could see much of it. She pulled over to the side of the road and rolled down her window, hearing the rushing water. She recalled how she and Jon had looked over the bridge down into the water and had seen lots of shale lying along the bottom. Just upriver were some small rapids and now, with her window down, the memories all came back. Even in the faint light of a street light, she could see the hinge for a water wheel and the stone foundation where a mill used to operate.

  Jon stirred, then awoke. “Where the hell are we?”

  Trudie presented her face to the open window and filled her lungs with air. “Shaffer, Ohio, our little ghost town.”