The Christmas Women

by Elyse Douglas

  The play ended in happy celebration, as Scrooge regained his love for life, people and Christmas, and when Tiny Tim exclaimed, “God bless us everyone!” the curtain came down.

  Mrs. Childs erupted into heavy applause for her old student, clapping until her hands hurt. She continued applauding anyway, feeling her body awaken with pride and gratitude.

  “Wasn’t he magnificent?!” Mrs. Childs exclaimed to Nick and Julie. “Isn’t he just the greatest actor?!”

  During the second half of the show, Don Rawlings, along with Carly and Lynn, brought the house down with his squawky, yakety-yak sax rendition of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. The girls’ wild and careless dance behind him brought squeals of laughter, as they swung their arms about, kicking left and right, their red noses blinking on and off. Mrs. Childs laughed so hard that tears ran down her cheeks.

  The lights dimmed as the applause roared on, allowing the stage hands to roll the fireplace, now with mantel stockings, onto center stage. Mary Ann sat in a rocking chair dressed as Mrs. Claus, half-reciting, half-singing ‘Twas the Night before Christmas, encouraging the audience to join in. They all shouted the final lines with her: “Merry Christmas to all and to all good-night!”

  Like clockwork, the stage hands pushed the set back, and the chorus entered from stage left and right, singing a medley of songs, starting with I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas. The finale came when The Christmas Women exploded onto the stage singing Jingle Bells, using The Andrew Sisters’ arrangement. The auditorium joined in singing and clapping as the girls fell into their Rockettes’ style kicking chorus. Jon shot out from stage left, dressed as Santa, shouldered in next to Trudie, and began kicking and laughing right along with them. Up on the catwalk, the two high school boys slung out handfuls of fake snow. It drifted down lazily.

  To Julie’s and Nick’s shock, Mrs. Childs struggled to her feet, yelling out her approval. The girls and Jon waved back to her as they kicked on, hearts racing, faces flushed, sweat pouring down, feet stabbing them with pain.

  Two cameras rushed in, capturing the exceptional moment, and the girls kicked even higher, with Jon barely able to hold on, his face fixed in a strained comical grin.

  The roaring applause lifted them, the crash of the cymbals excited them and still The Christmas Women thrilled the audience with their relentless precision dance. Ray was all swinging arms and grins as he lifted the orchestra to new heights, yelling at them to give him more sound—and they did—cheeks puffed, faces red, violin bows skipping across the strings, timpani booming like thunder.

  When the last note fell into a cymbal crash, the audience shot to its feet in rowdy applause. High on adrenalin and joy, The Christmas Women hugged, Jon threw kisses to the audience and Ray charged into the introduction of The Hallelujah Chorus.

  The entire cast and crew packed the stage, and indicated to the audience that they should join in. The singing was loud, soaring and triumphant. Even Charlie Wills, the B-flat trumpet player who’d never managed to hit the right notes before, nailed all the high notes and sent them ringing off the ceiling and walls. For long seconds the remnants of Handel’s masterpiece reverberated around the auditorium.

  When it was finally over, the audience settled back into their seats, hearts racing. Ushers appeared at the aisle, handing out LED votive candle lights. The house lights came down and the room fell into a silence. The soft glow from hundreds of starry candle lights brought a sacred peace, and when Ray cued the orchestra, they began to play the introduction to Silent Night.

  Outside, the masses joined in, singing and swaying gently to each verse. They had gathered in the parking lot, on the front lawn, in the streets and on the sidewalks. They’d come from the mall and from the restaurants and from the churches that had already concluded their services. They’d come from the surrounding towns and villages and from as far away as Columbus and Cincinnati.

  Taxi cabs parked and drivers emerged and listened. Some joined in with the singing. TV crews hovered and listened, and some of them sang. Security guards and deputies quickly noticed a sudden change in the playfully raucous crowds. When the carol began, the crowd suddenly fell into a hypnotic dream of tranquility. They sang, smiling and swaying, kissing and holding hands.

  Sheriff Mason witnessed the astonishing scene from atop the high school steps, hands on his hips. He suddenly knew that he was experiencing a once-in-a-lifetime event, one he’d probably never experience again.

  The entire town had come together to sing a Christmas carol of comfort and peace, and the Sheriff felt it. Sheriff Mason, who wasn’t particularly religious, suddenly had an inexplicable religious experience. As he gazed out into the world of gently falling snow, Christmas lights, crowds singing Silent Night, and a cool night wind caressing his face, he experienced a ONEness, and a perfection in all things. Everything he heard, saw and felt was somehow connected to ONE extraordinary being, and he was a part of that miracle of being. For that brief moment in time, there truly was peace on Earth and goodwill toward all people. Sheriff Mason joined the chorus of singers, raising his deep bass, off-key voice to the heavens, feeling joyful and blessed.

  Inside, Mrs. Lyons stood in the back of the auditorium singing, misty-eyed. There was something in the air that night and she had effortlessly plugged into it. She didn’t try to define it or understand it and, for once in her life, she didn’t want to. She just sang, feeling a warming affection for all humanity.

  After the carol came a deep and rich silence. Mrs. Childs sat still, her eyes closed. It had been an emotional night and she needed time to rest. When she heard her name called, her eyes opened on The Christmas Women and Jon standing next to her, waiting.

  “We’re taking you up on the stage,” Trudie said.

  “I can’t walk all the way up there,” Mrs. Childs said.

  “No worries, Teach,” Jon said. “These are modern times. They have an access ramp.”

  They helped her into the wheelchair and Jon pushed her up the access ramp, through the wings and out onto the stage, positioning her downstage center, while the audience thundered with applause. Mrs. Childs was swarmed by her former students, who hugged her, kissed her cheeks, and presented her with presents, cards, and dazzling bouquets of flowers.

  The audience was on its feet, in a standing ovation. Mrs. Childs struggled to adjust to the reality, one moment smiling, the next moment wiping tears. Jon leaned over and whispered in her ear.

  “How was the play, Teach?”

  She gave him a stern look. “I saw five glaring errors.”

  “Only five, Teach?”

  “I’ll give you my notes before you leave town,” she concluded, with a little amused wink. “Next year, when you do it again, it will be perfect. And I’ll be here to make sure of it!”

  Jon laughed, and then did a little tap dance.

  Mrs. Childs reached for The Christmas Girls—her Christmas Girls—and she took their hands and, because the applause and the whistling and the celebration were so loud, she mouthed the words, “Thank you. I love you all with all my heart.”

  The alert male photographer appeared. He gathered the entire cast and crew together and began snapping multiple shots, capturing smiles, funny faces, kisses and hugs.

  Finally, he placed Mrs. Childs, The Christmas Women and Jon together. He was about to snap the first shot when Trudie turned to see Ray, standing off in the wings, looking on. She motioned for him to join them. He held back. Mrs. Childs followed Trudie’s eyes. She commanded Ray to come, with a firm wave of her hand and her persuasive piercing eyes. Ray obeyed, and the group cheered him.

  Mrs. Childs stood in the center, flanked by Jon and Trudie on her right side and Mary Ann, Kristen and Ray on the other.

  “All my favorites,” Mrs. Childs said, as the photographer snapped the last photo. “You are all my favorites.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  The cast party at Rusty’s was loud, jumping and joyful. There was dancing; there were platters of food; there were champa
gne corks popping; there was impromptu singing and there were dramatically told recaps. Highlights from the show were already playing on several laptops. Liz Tyree was praised for her flawless stage managing, and she reveled in it, gulping down a glass of champagne someone had shoved into her hand.

  Ray toasted his orchestra, praising their musicianship. The bass player jumped from behind the bar and sprayed him with a popped bottle of champagne. Ray’s hand flew up to his face as a stream of foam splashed into the side of his head.

  Don Rawlings’ act had been a big hit. Many of his co-workers and clients had been at the show and they were busy buying him beer and praising his talent. “Ah! If it hadn’t have been for Carly and Lynn,” he yelled, “you would have all booed me off the stage.”

  Trudie was working her way through the crowd to congratulate him, when she noticed an attractive brunette hanging off his arm. Trudie saw them kiss a couple of times. They weren’t sisterly kisses. Don pulled her in close and kissed her again. Perplexed and off-balance, Trudie asked one of Don’s friends who the woman was.

  “Oh, that’s Stacy. They broke up a little over a month ago. But she was at the show tonight and she loved it. I guess she and Don just got back together.”

  Trudie retreated to another part of the room, deflated and confused. She was quickly pulled away by Kristen to meet her husband, Alan, and their son, Alexander.

  “These are my men,” Kristen said, proudly. “I called them in the middle of the night and told them they had to come. And the sweethearts did.”

  Alan was classy, refined and complimentary. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, Trudie. Kristen thinks the world of you.”

  Trudie smiled at her friend. “As I do her.”

  Alexander was formal and a little shy. Trudie thought him a very handsome boy and she told him so. He thanked her and then reached for his cell phone.

  “We’re leaving for Breckinridge at six in the morning,” Kristen said. “Oh, and Alan found us a room at a hotel close to the airport, so we’ll all be staying there tonight.”

  Trudie hid her disappointment with a forced smile. “Oh, that’s convenient. Good. Good.”

  The party thundered on. Mary Ann was sitting in a red booth in the café with Oscar and the girls, eating pizza. Carly wore the lacy chiffon dress she’d found in Trudie’s attic, and Lynn proudly wore a vintage 1960s red and white polka dot dress she’d unearthed from the same trunk.

  Carly had braided her hair into one elegant pigtail, and the long matte green dangling earrings she wore added class and elegance.

  Lynn’s hair was wild and careless. Her earrings were 1960s yellow plastic with white daisies. Trudie wondered what they would be like in five or six years.

  The girls glowed with satisfaction, their faces still fresh and alive from the exhilaration of performance and applause. Trudie watched them, longingly. They were beautiful young women and Mary Ann was so lucky. It had been such a treat to have them as guests. It had given Trudie a much-needed lift to have them all living in the house. She would miss them all.

  Trudie browsed by a second booth that held Hugh and Larry Watson. Both were biting into hamburgers, French fries spilling out over their plates.

  “Hugh,” Trudie said, pausing. “I just wanted to thank you for all you did. You really helped make the show a success. The check will be in the mail first thing next week.”

  “That’s cool,” Hugh said, with a mouth full of fries. “Cool.”

  Larry glanced up with red-rimmed eyes and a sagging face.

  “You must be tired, Larry. Did you pull an all-nighter?”

  “Yeah. I’m really tired.”

  “He’s okay,” Hugh said. “It will make a man out of him.”

  Larry made a miserable face.

  Trudie smiled. “Thanks, Larry. See you at the library right after Christmas vacation?”

  He nodded and Trudie moved on, suddenly feeling lost and weary.

  Cole Blackwell had already left town, as had many others. They wanted to spend Christmas with their families and share the experiences of the Christmas show with them. Mary Ann would fly out tomorrow as well; she was heading to Florida, to spend Christmas with her parents. And Jon? Where was Jon? Trudie didn’t know, and she was a nervous wreck about it. Everyone was asking her where he was, and when he would show up. But that was like Jon. He always made a surprise appearance. That was his style and everyone knew it.

  Trudie took a glass of champagne and wandered back into the bar, over to a wooden booth where Ray was still talking excitedly about how well the orchestra had played. He stood, and kissed her, congratulating her again on the success of the show. She listened and smiled, feeling herself start to sink. Where was Jon?

  Now that everything was over and everyone was leaving, what would she do next? Just continue on with her life as it was? How could she? Everything had changed. But had it really? If things hadn’t changed outside, they had definitely changed inside. She was different. She was very different.

  She felt her phone vibrate. She snatched it up. It was Jon! She slid out of the booth and moved to the side exit door. She pushed out into the chilly night. Snow was falling and there were two inches on the ground, glistening under the tall, parking lot lights.

  “Jon? Where are you?”

  “At the Columbus Airport.”

  Trudie shrank, as if the air had been kicked out of her. “Oh... We thought you were coming to the party. Everybody’s waiting.”

  “I’d be mobbed, Trudie. Have you seen the crowds and the reporters? Anyway, I’ve got three little girls who want me home for Christmas Day. I’m their Daddy and I’ve got to play Santa Claus. I love them and I’ve got to be there. My flight leaves in an hour.”

  Trudie didn’t speak.

  “Hey, Lady Parks. You all made it happen. And what a happen it was! It was a great night, Trudie. A spectacular night. Thanks for letting me be a part of it.”

  Trudie struggled to find her voice. “Jon...”

  “Yes, Trudie.”

  “Jon...” she decided against saying what was in her heart. “It was a good night, wasn’t it? Mrs. Childs was so happy.”

  “She was, Trudie, thanks to you all. I went home with her after the show and gave her a good night kiss. I love the woman, Trudie. I love her like a second mother. I just love Teach. I’m so glad we all got back together again, and you helped make it all happen.”

  Trudie felt sick. She had to get off the phone before she got emotional. “Well, you have a good flight back to LA, Jon, and remember me sometimes, okay?”

  “Hey, Trudie, wait a minute. I want to tell you...”

  But Trudie had hung up. She felt the flow of tears.

  Her phone rang. It was Jon again. She didn’t want to talk to him. She couldn’t.

  She leaned back against the door and before she could stop them, the tears pumped out of her and she sobbed, her shoulders rolling, her body in a spasm of disappointment and pain.

  EPILOGUE

  Trudie Parks sat in the living room on the cushioned window seat, staring out the bay window at the falling snow. She was dressed in her blue cotton flannel pajamas and heavy cotton housecoat. It was a gentle snowfall, the eleventh snowfall of the season, and it was only December 31st. But it was beautiful, as it sugar-coated the limbs of the trees, glazed the bushes, and dusted the tops of parked cars. She heard the scraping sound of a snow shovel up the street and it somehow comforted her.

  It was New Year’s Eve day and she didn’t have to go to work. She could lie around next to the fireplace and read, bake some cookies and call Mary Ann and Kristen. Mary Ann was back in California and, since Oscar had Christmas week off, Mary Ann had invited him to stay with her and the girls. She said she was moving slowly ahead with Oscar, ensuring that Carly and Lynn were comfortable with the new relationship. So far, they were. The Christmas show had helped to bond them all together. Mary Ann confided that Oscar was a kind and good man and they were becoming quite close.

  K
risten was still in Colorado skiing. She’d emailed just last night.

  Alan and I have recommitted ourselves to the marriage. I’m so glad I turned Cole down and that I didn’t do anything I’d regret right now. Being with you and Mary Ann again gave me a new perspective on life. It helped clear my head. Trudie, let’s all get together again soon, little sister. It will do us all good. I love you, Trudie, with all my heart and always will. Happy New Year!

  Trudie watched the steam rise as she sipped her hot coffee. How wonderful it had all been. How miraculous it was that Mrs. Childs was feeling so much better! After the show, she seemed to gain strength and vitality. It seemed that her long battle with cancer was over, and she had won, at least for the time being. Her recovery was all the more remarkable because it had happened around Christmas. Even Julie had called it a Christmas miracle.

  Trudie had asked Ray to email the entire cast the great news after Julie called to tell her. Julie’s voice was excited and cracking with emotion.

  “The doctors are amazed, Trudie. Just amazed. I told them it was that Christmas show. The Christmas show totally resurrected her. She’s already planning next year’s show, so look out!”

  Trudie would be sure to stop at Julie’s before she joined Ray and others to celebrate New Year’s Eve at a new chic restaurant in Columbus. She’d bring in the New Year with good friends and the best of good memories. She had a lot to be grateful for.

  Trudie turned to look at the house. It had been so quiet since everyone left. What a delight it had been to have the old rooms filled with life for those few marvelous days. How natural it had seemed to have Carly and Lynn romp about its rooms, and Kristen’s forceful but good-hearted personality awaken the sleeping ghosts, and Mary Ann’s gentleness soothe and heal them all. How lucky she was to have such good friends.