It Happened at Christmas

by Christen Krumm

  Murphy dropped two dollops of sweet cream into her coffee. Taking a long swig, she let the drink sit on her tongue. Had she really told Hank about her father? There was no way she could now hide the fact she wasn’t from his world. Which student from Iverson grew up in an apartment barely big enough for a piano? She was so stupid.

  Then another memory hit. Her face warmed at the thought of Hank holding her. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d liked it. Really liked it.

  The double doors banged open, Floyd and Lloyd appeared.

  “Really, guys? Where’s the fire?”

  “Haha. So funny,” Lloyd said

  “We just didn’t want to be late,” Floyd added.

  “And we’re starving.” The boys said in practically one breath.

  “You guys are such weirdos. You know we’re the only ones eating tonight. Plus, it isn’t like you are doing anything else tonight.”

  Both boys slid in a chair at the table, trying—and failing—to hide a badly wrapped package behind them. Murphy couldn’t keep the smile from lighting her face.

  “What are you guys hiding?” she asked sweetly, putting her mug of coffee on the table.

  Floyd rolled his eyes and bumped his brother. “Might as well hand it over already.”

  Lloyd matched his brother’s eye roll and produced a bulky gift wrapped in what looked like a paper grocery bag and held together with twine. “We couldn’t find any tape.” Lloyd blushed.

  “It’s not that much of anything, really.” Floyd was blushing now, too, as he plopped the gift in Murphy’s grabby hands.

  She was almost too scared to open it by the boys’ reaction. Blushing, really? The twins didn’t blush. Her curiosity was strong, and it was all she could do not to tear into the package. Carefully working at the knot, trying to not smile at the twins practically jumping out of their seat for her to move faster.

  Finally, loosening the string, she peeled back the paper to reveal the most beautiful vintage leather satchel.

  Murphy blinked back unexpected tears. She ran her hands over the worn leather. It was the perfect kind of soft. “You guys.”

  “We got your initials there on the front too. It just seemed right. You needed a new computer bag, and that one should last you a few trips around the world.”

  Her fingers slide over the gold ink stamped MJC. “Awe. Come here.” The table was way too big to hug over, but that didn’t stop Murphy. She reached as far as she could, careful not to bump her coffee, and pulled Floyd and Lloyd into a quick, half-neck squeeze, half-back pat. She sniffed, pulling the bag to her chest as everyone settled back into their chairs. “I love it. Thank you so much.”

  “It was nothing. We just…” Lloyd shrugged. “We thought you might like it.”

  She swiped the back of her hand across her face. “I love it. Do you want yours?”

  Both boys responded with their own grabby hands. Murphy relented and handed over two matching Christmas bags.

  Both boys fist bumped over the limited-edition Star Trek Funko Pops that she had found while shopping with Hank and Eloise. She had squealed when she saw them knowing they would be an amazing addition to their collections. She’d included a bag of Funyuns and a Red Bull for each of them as well. Still her gifts paled in comparison with theirs.

  “Don’t open those Funyuns in here,” Murphy chided, stopping both boys mid-open. “You know Mrs. P is sure to smell them, and then we’ll all be in trouble.”

  Both boys grumbled, but knowing Murphy was right, slipped the chips back into the gift bag and tucked them under the table.

  “You guys started opening presents without us?”

  They turned to see Mr. Gruber pushing through the swinging doors to the kitchen, carrying a stack of presents.

  “Now, Amos, you leave them alone,” Mrs. Potts scolded from in the kitchen. She appeared moments later; her own arms laden with packages.

  “Of course, Carol,” Mr. Gruber replied, turning to help her with the gifts.

  He handed two boxes to each of the teens, who tore into them with giggles and exclamations. Dinner momentarily forgotten.

  Both boys received a sweater knitted by Mrs. Potts herself. Floyd’s was dark red with a gold “F” knitted on the chest. Lloyd’s dark blue with a green “L”. They had a good laugh when they realized they each had the other’s sweater. Both instantly pulled their sweater over their head, exclaiming just how much they loved the homemade gift. Mrs. Potts blubbered and turned three shades of pink at the special attention.

  Murphy also got a sweater — the same as ever year. Hers a creamy milk color. Most would think that a homemade sweater was up there with receiving underwear from your grandmother, but the twins weren’t lying in their praise. Mrs. Potts’ sweaters really were that great. The best kind of slouchy comfort.

  The second packages were from Mr. Gruber. His gifts were always — something else. One year, Murphy got a horseshoe. They’d all had a good laugh about that gift, but Murphy still had it hanging above her doorway. With Mr. Gruber, you never knew what you were going to get.

  This year it was relatively tame, and Murphy had an idea that it was because Mr. Gruber enlisted Mrs. Potts’ help. For Murphy, Mr. Gruber had gotten a variety of chocolates — enough to probably last her until Easter at least (unless Emmaline found the stash. Then they’d have it gone in a weekend). For each of the boys, he had gotten a small pocketknife. Which was humorous considering Murphy was fairly certain there was no way they would ever have a need for a pocketknife.

  The twins had gotten Mrs. Potts a huge batch her favorite tea in a limited-edition tea tin, which she fawned over. They gifted Mr. Gruber with thick leather gloves. Murphy thought it was sweet they had noticed his favorite pair had holes worn into them. Murphy gave Mr. Gruber the bag of hard lemon candies she had found when shopping with Hank and Eloise and paired it with fisherman’s lotion for his poor hands. For Mrs. Potts she had found the cutest vintage recipe box that still had recipes in it. Mrs. Potts started crying when she opened it.

  Gifts exchanged and stowed away for the moment (except for the sweaters which all recipients were currently wearing) the five turned to the feast that Mrs. Potts had prepared.

  Even though Murphy had spent the last hour making sure everything was properly prepped and set out on the table, she was still amazed at the amount of food Mrs. Potts had made. There was a turkey and a ham which was outrageous since Murphy didn’t even eat meat. But Mrs. Potts and Lloyd preferred turkey while Mr. Gruber and Floyd preferred ham, so she made both. There were two kinds of potatoes, green bean casserole—Murphy’s favorite—corn, figgy pudding, rolls, and three kinds of pie.

  Massive amount of food that it was, with Iverson closed the next week, there would be lots of leftovers for the teens and Mr. Gruber to pick through while Mrs. Potts visited her son-in-law and daughter in the city.

  “So, Murphy, you planning on going to the Harrington’s tomorrow for Christmas?” Mrs. Potts asked passing the basket of rolls around the table.

  Murphy swallowed before answering, not really sure she wanted to go now that she had spilled her story. Would he treat her differently? “Hank and Eloise are going to pick me up around 10:30.”

  A smile lit up Mrs. Potts’ face. “I’m so glad that you won’t be spending Christmas morning by yourself.”

  “Hey! What about us?” Floyd spluttered.

  Mrs. Potts waved her hand. “You boys do just fine. You were planning on not doing anything except tinker away on that video game stuff.”

  Both twins shrugged their shoulders. “You have a point.”

  Everyone laughed at the admission.

  They talked more of Christmas break plans, the twins — video game creating, Mrs. Potts — her train was leaving at six in the morning and she was spending the entire week at her daughter’s house, and Mr. Gruber — planning to finish reading Dostoyevsky and eating the entire bag of lemon candy Murphy got him. They ate until they could eat no more, told countless storie
s of Christmases before, and laughed until their sides hurt. It was well past dark when they finally started clearing the tables, all pitching in to get the work done.

  When the last dish was washed and dried, Mrs. Potts pulled out a saucepan to begin making her “practically perfect peppermint hot cocoa” while Murphy started popping popcorn over the stove. The three boys sat at the table discussing which holiday movie they would play this year even though everyone already knew they would start with the classic, It’s a Wonderful Life, and then move on to a traditional favorite, Elf.

  Steaming chocolate and fragrant popcorn finally ready, they all piled into the media room.

  Mr. Gruber and Mrs. Potts sat on one side of the black leather sectional, a bowl of popcorn between them. Murphy and the twins shared the other — with Murphy in the middle holding the bowl.

  With a mug of cocoa warming her hands, the lights dimmed, and the angel’s voice beginning the opening lines of the movie, Murphy looked around. Mr. Gruber was tucking a blanket across Mrs. P’s lap. Murphy smiled. Mrs. Potts had been a widow for a while, and she loved that Mr. Gruber always seemed to take care of her — wanting nothing more. And Mrs. Potts always doted over Mr. Gruber as well. Theirs was the best kind of friendship.

  For once, the twins were calm, not trying to make or pull any kind of joke. Well, other than randomly keeping Murphy from grabbing a handful of popcorn by ducking their hand under hers whenever she’d reach for popcorn. She finally gave up on the snack choosing instead to just drink her cocoa until, of course, she went to take a drink and discovered a piece of popcorn floating on the top. When she asked the boys about it, they feigned innocence and told Murphy to “shhh.”

  She felt a sort of calm fall over her looking at the people who really loved her the most in life. Emmaline was right. They simply accepted who she was, not caring that she hadn’t come from money. Suddenly, it was hard for Murphy to swallow past the lump in her throat.

  “You ok, Murph?” Lloyd whispered.

  Murphy smiled at Lloyd, blinking the tears she knew were glistening in her eyes. She nodded and leaned her head on his shoulder.

  Yes. For the first time in a long time everything felt right. She was truly and utterly ok.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Merry Christmas, Emma,” Murphy yawned.

  “Merry Christmas, Murph,” Emmaline had her computer propped up while she fixed her hair and expertly brushed mascara on her already popping eyelash extensions. “Just finish movie night?”

  “Mm,” Murphy balled her pillow under her head. “Mrs. Potts had to leave after the first movie since she’s leaving so early tomorrow. Mr. Gruber followed her.”

  “I swear there is something going on between those two. Speaking of Christmas, have you found your gift yet?”

  Murphy sat up, suddenly not feeling as tired. “What? No! How did you … When?” she slid off the bed and stood in the middle of the room surveying it as if the gift would simply appear.

  Emmaline shook her head, laughing. “I can’t believe you haven’t found it yet. I hid it before I left!” She nodded behind Murphy. “Desk. Top right drawer.”

  Murphy flung open the drawer and pulled out a smallish box wrapped in shiny silver paper and a glittering black ribbon.

  “It’s so beautiful I almost don’t want to open it,” Murphy said running her fingers over the silky ribbon.

  “Oh, stop it. Open it already.”

  “I said almost,” Murphy smiled, tugging the gift away from its wrapping. She opened the box to reveal a paperback copy of The Great Gatsby.

  “I noticed your copy was looking a little worn,” Emmaline hurriedly explained. “Plus, that looked like a pretty cool edition.”

  “Emma, this is great.” Murphy set the paperback on her bed agreeing that whatever artist designed the cover was her new favorite. Tugging the ribbon from Fiona’s mouth, she said, “Ok. Your turn.”

  “My turn?” Emmaline paused mid mascara swipe.

  “You didn’t think I’d let you fly halfway across the world at Christmastime and not hide a present in your luggage, did you?” Murphy put her hands on her hips.

  Emmaline squealed and disappeared from view. Murphy giggled seeing clothes flash across the screen as her friend dug into the very bottom of her suitcase where Murphy had hidden the gift.

  “It’s not much.”

  Emmaline flew back into view the gift in her hands. She shook it close to her ear, but it gave no sound. As Murphy knew it wouldn’t. Murphy watched, while biting her thumb nail. Not being able to wait any longer, Emmaline tore off the paper.

  “Murphy, I love it.”

  “Really? I wasn’t sure about the color.” Murphy bit her lip.

  “Shut your mouth, I love it.” Emmaline wrapped the homemade deep purple scarf around her neck. Mrs. Potts had been teaching her to knit. She still wasn’t great, but she could knit a large rectangle and call it a scarf. “I am totally going to wear this every day.”

  “I’m so glad you like it.” Murphy yawned again, not able to fight it any longer.

  “You have a big day planned with Tripp and family?” Emmaline asked.

  Nodding, Murphy crawled back into her bed, letting Fiona curl up next to her. “Yeah, Hank and Eloise are going to pick me up around 10:30.”

  Emmaline shook her head.

  “What?” Murphy’s words were starting to slur.

  “You totally have the starry look in your eyes.”

  “That, dear Emmaline, is simply the sleepy look in my eyes. Believe me I have no stars in my eyes.” Her excuse sounded weak even to her ears.

  “Sure you don’t,” Emmaline grinned. “I’m going to let you go to bed. Have fun tomorrow and feel free to raid my closet if you need to.”

  “Mmk.” Murphy’s eyes were already half closed, and as Emmaline said her goodbyes, Murphy realized she forgot to tell her that she had been right. She did have people who accepted her for her.

  The next morning, Murphy was so glad Emmaline had given her permission to raid her closet — not like she hadn’t known she could already. She dressed in black leggings, a Star Wars t-shirt, and her new slouchy sweater from Mrs. Potts, but for the life of her, she couldn’t bring herself to wear her beat up Cons.

  Emmaline to the rescue.

  While there was at least six inches difference in height, they wore the same shoe size. Murphy slipped her feet into a pair of black flats completing the look. The teal bottoms even matched the lettering on her t-shirt. Standing back, she observed herself in Emmaline’s floor to ceiling mirror.

  She smoothed out her hair, which she had used Emmaline’s straightener on, and adjusted her sweater on her shoulders. She dabbed on a little of lip gloss, as fancy in the makeup department as she was willing to get.

  Practically skipping down the stairs, Murphy gathered up her coat and scarf and headed to wait in the entry for her ride to the Harringtons’. When was the last time she had Christmas with family? Seven years ago? She hadn’t thought of that Christmas in ages, the days after having tainted the memory. That year her father had gotten her a pair of shoes with pink sparkles and had splurged on tickets to the ballet later that month—they had never gotten to attend. By the date of the ballet, her father had been buried for over a week and she was beginning her new life at Iverson.

  Not more than five minutes later, Hank pulled up to the front steps.

  “Where’s Eloise?” Murphy asked when Hank slid back into the car after holding the door open for her. She was a little surprised that the youngest Harrington hadn’t tagged along.

  Hank looked in the back seat if only just realizing that his sister hadn’t ridden over with him. “She wanted to stay back. Help get everything ready.”

  Murphy felt a little light headed at being alone with Hank. They hadn’t been alone since she had walked in on him playing piano and she had told him about her losing her dad. They’d had a moment. At least she thought she felt something. Had he? “Ready for what?”

&nbs
p; “Ready for present opening!”

  “You guys haven’t opened presents yet?” Murphy felt her stomach drop. She hadn’t even thought about gifts for the Harringtons. She figured she was going after all the normal present opening had happened. They hadn’t known her long enough to include her.

  “No, Eloise wanted to wait for you.”

  “But I didn’t get anything—”

  “Cain, stop.” Hank put his hand on top of hers. Her stomach went into all kinds of butterfly fits. “You don’t have to worry about gifts. We don’t care about that. We just wanted you to come hang out with us. As Tripp’s girlfriend, you are practically part of the family now.”

  “Okay,” Murphy’s stomach plummeted. She was Tripp’s girlfriend. They moment at the piano was all in her head. Nothing could happen between her and Hank. What she felt at the piano must have been Hank comforting her just like he’d comfort Eloise if she were upset. But it didn’t feel that way to Murphy.

  If she told him she wasn’t really Tripp’s girl could there be something there then? Of course not. If she told the truth, not only would she be seen as a liar, but Hank would also realize what she really was. Just a Cinderella living in a closet.

  There was something about the Harrington house that had a magical Christmas feel. She did notice there were more twinkle lights strung up, and she assumed that the addition of lights were in preparation for the upcoming Christmas ball.

  Jarvis was already opening the door, and Murphy couldn’t help but give him a hug and wish him a Merry Christmas. The older man stiffened, probably not accustomed to hugs, but patted her back, and wished her a Merry Christmas as well.

  Hank steered Murphy to a part of the house she had yet to be in. The room was almost … normal. Not what she expected from the Harrington house, but it was instantly Murphy’s favorite.