The Wish Book Christmas Read online

  Audrey had a sudden image of the handsome male model from the Sears catalogue running down the street beside Bobby in his suit, holding him steady as he learned to ride without the training wheels. She shook her head to erase it. “Why don’t you buy the bikes for their birthdays next summer, instead? That way, they’ll be able to ride them right away.”

  “Well . . . I suppose that makes sense. Oh, I almost forgot. I also bought a darling little portable record player and some records they can share.”

  “That’s plenty. They’ll be thrilled.”

  “But Bobby mentioned just now that they wanted toy fire engines. And sleds. I don’t see any harm in—”

  Eve leaned forward, covering Mrs. Barrett’s hand, stopping her. “Thank you for your generosity. You’ve always made Christmas so special for the boys. And for me. But Harry and Bobby don’t need every toy in the Wish Book in order to be happy. The love you’ve shown us is more than enough.”

  Audrey could breathe again. Thank goodness for Eve, who’d managed to sound warm instead of critical. If Audrey had spoken, she knew she would have sounded stiff and cold. She still cringed when she remembered her conversation with Mr. Hamilton at the bank.

  “I’m going to order tickets for all of us for the children’s Christmas party at the country club,” Mrs. Barrett said. “It’s on December 20, a Thursday. The boys enjoyed it so much last year—petting the reindeer and meeting Santa Claus.” Audrey recalled attending the party last year and remembered that Santa Claus had given a present to every child. Bobby had been sick to his stomach from all the candy and ice cream.

  “Please don’t buy a ticket for me,” Eve said. “I didn’t go last year because of the scandal I had caused. And this year I’ll be at work all day.”

  “But Harry can go, can’t he?” Nana asked. “And you and Bobby are going with me, aren’t you, Audrey?”

  Audrey didn’t want to go, but she also didn’t want to hurt Robert’s parents. “Yes, of course I’ll go. Thank you.”

  Audrey left the Barretts’ home later that afternoon feeling as though she was a huge disappointment to them as their daughter-in-law. They were offering generous gifts, motivated by love, and they didn’t seem to understand why she was refusing them.

  After a supper of sausages and beans, Audrey plopped the Wish Book down on the living room coffee table and told the boys, “This is it. It’s time to go through the book and make your list. You may choose one toy per page.”

  “But, Mummy . . .”

  “And that doesn’t mean that Santa will bring everything on your list,” Eve added. “You should let Santa know which two or three toys you want the most.”

  “Right,” Audrey said. “And then the book is going into the rubbish, and that will be the end of it.”

  Their words brought a chorus of complaints and wails.

  “Mummy, no!”

  “You can’t throw it away!”

  “Make up your minds, and when you’re ready, we’ll write the letters to Santa Claus.”

  “Can we ask Santa for a dog?” Harry asked. “Dogs aren’t in the book.”

  “We only need one. We can share it.”

  “No dog until you’re much older,” Eve said.

  “If ever . . . ,” Audrey mumbled.

  “Please, Mommy?”

  “We need a dog!”

  “Dogs are a lot of work and a lot of responsibility,” Eve said. “Bobby’s mum will be going to school all day like the two of you, and I’ll be at work. It wouldn’t be fair to leave a poor dog here all alone.”

  “I’m still putting it on my list,” Harry said stubbornly. “Santa isn’t mean like you.”

  Chapter 5

  14 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

  Audrey was setting the table for dinner when Eve arrived home from work with a big bag from Woolworth’s. “I bought this at the dime store on my lunch hour,” she said, setting the bag on the counter. She pulled out a large cardboard box with a picture of a manger scene on the outside. “The boys admired the set at the Barretts’ house, so I decided we needed one to help them remember why we celebrate Christmas. I got the cheapest one in the store so the boys could touch it and handle it.”

  “We’re thinking alike,” Audrey said as she returned to the stove to stir the green beans. “I was remembering what Grandma Van said the other day about Christmas being Jesus’ birthday, and I wondered what you would think about having a birthday party on Christmas Day. Maybe even buy a birthday cake.”

  “Yes! With candles. And Christmas crackers and party hats.”

  “The boys have been pestering me all afternoon to put up our Christmas tree,” Audrey said. “I told them maybe we’d do it tonight.”

  “I hope the two of us can manage it. That tree is so heavy we may have to tie ropes to it and drag it inside. But then we’ll still have to lift it into the stand somehow.”

  “Should we call Tom? I’m sure he’ll be willing to come over and help.”

  “I don’t want to do that.” Eve’s swift response and the curt way she said it surprised Audrey.

  “Why not?”

  Eve didn’t reply. She slit open the cardboard box and began pulling out plaster figures of sheep and angels, spilling straw packing material on the floor.

  “Did you and Tom have a fight or something?” Audrey asked.

  “Not exactly. Just a disagreement about . . . timing.”

  Audrey waited.

  “Tom is ready to be more than friends, and I’m not.”

  “I can tell that he loves you and you love him. What’s the problem?”

  “I can’t explain it. I just need more time.” She scooped everything back into the box and left the kitchen.

  The moment the boys finished their chocolate pudding after dinner, they started begging to put up the Christmas tree. “Chores first,” Audrey said. It was the boys’ job to help clear the table, sweep the crumbs from under it—and the straw that Eve had spilled—and empty the rubbish. They were almost finished when the doorbell rang. Audrey went to answer it—and was stunned to see Mr. Hamilton standing on the front step, holding a leather briefcase. “Oh! Hello.” Audrey’s heart sped up at the sight of him. A banker had no right at all to be so good-looking.

  “Hello, Mrs. Barrett. I hope you don’t mind me stopping by unannounced, but I thought I would drop off this paperwork so you’d have a chance to read through it before it’s time to sign it.”

  “I-I could have come to the bank.”

  “Well, I thought I’d save you a trip. I know you’re busy.” He looked pleased with himself for being helpful, and she was about to thank him—but then Audrey recalled how he’d told Mr. Barrett about the loan and her fury returned. Before she could berate him, Bobby and Harry came running in from the kitchen, grinning and jumping around his legs like puppies.

  “We’re gonna decorate our Christmas tree,” Harry said. “Wanna help?”

  Audrey pulled them away. “Will you boys give Mr. Hamilton and me a moment to talk, please? Go help Harry’s mum carry the decorations up from the basement.” She turned back to Mr. Hamilton as they scampered off. “Come in, please.” He removed his hat and followed her into the living room. She needed to remain calm. “I had a very awkward conversation with Mr. Barrett on Sunday. It seems you told him about my loan application before I had a chance to tell him myself. He seemed quite hurt. I tried to explain my reasons, but I’m still not sure he understood.”

  Mr. Hamilton’s smile vanished. “He didn’t hear about the loan from me. Maybe my father told him.”

  “Your father is the bank president. Doesn’t he have better things to do with his time than to concern himself with everyday loans like mine?”

  Mr. Hamilton winced, clearly embarrassed. “I am so sorry. Maybe it was my fault that Mr. Barrett found out. You see, I was so impressed by what you told me about standing on your own two feet and setting an example for Bobby—it’s so unusual. The young women in my social circle think very differently than
you do, and I found your attitude refreshing. And inspiring. I liked what you said about wanting to teach your son the value of earning his way. So I told my father about you. How remarkable you are and how much I admired you. I suppose he mentioned it to your father-in-law at a Rotary meeting or something. I’m really very sorry, Mrs. Barrett. The last thing I wanted to do was cause tension between you and Mr. Barrett. Will you forgive me?” He seemed so sincere that she suddenly felt like the villain in a children’s story.

  “Yes, of course. I’m sorry for sounding cross. I didn’t mean to give you a ticking off.”

  “Yes, you did.” He grinned, revealing that unnerving dimple in his cheek. “And I deserved it. Let me make it up to you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’ll talk to Mr. Barrett myself and tell him how much I admire you and support what you’re doing.”

  “Oh no, please don’t do that. You’ll only make things worse. Just leave it alone.” She heard footsteps clomping up the basement steps and said, “Now, didn’t you say you had some papers for me?”

  He had just set his briefcase on the coffee table and snapped it open when Bobby skipped into the room, carrying a cardboard box. “We found the Christmas lights, Mummy! Come on, we have to bring the tree inside!”

  Mr. Hamilton handed Audrey a sheaf of papers. “I’ve taken enough of your time.”

  Harry marched into the room behind Bobby and set down the box he carried. “Wanna help us, Mr. Hamilton?”

  “This is your special family time, Harry. I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Please? Please?” they chorused.

  Eve entered the living room with a third box, panting from the climb up the basement stairs. “You aren’t intruding. The boys are very fond of you, Mr. Hamilton. Besides, I’m not sure Audrey and I can drag the tree inside by ourselves or set it up in the tree stand. We had a hard enough time just pushing it off the roof of the car and shoving it out of the way. We could use your help.”

  Audrey shot her friend an angry glare. It was unlike Eve to play the helpless maiden. “Mr. Hamilton is wearing an expensive overcoat. He’ll get tree sap all over it.”

  “That’s not a problem,” he said. “I would be happy to help two damsels in distress.” He removed his overcoat and suit jacket and laid them over a chair, then rolled up his shirtsleeves, revealing the fine golden hair on his brawny arms. Audrey looked away, upset with herself for noticing. Eve led him outside, and he came up with the idea of screwing the stand to the tree before carrying it inside to make it easier to set up. He left a trail of pine needles as he lugged it through the door, but he looked quite proud of himself when the tree was finally upright in the stand. The boys cheered.

  Before Audrey had a chance to thank him and tell him he could leave, Harry handed him a tangled pile of Christmas lights. “Can you fix these? Mommy can never get them to work.”

  “They’re all different colors when you plug them in,” Bobby said. “Like a rainbow.”

  “But they won’t go on.”

  “They’re frustrating, is what they are,” Eve said. “If one of them is loose or burned out, the entire string goes off, so you can’t tell which one is the culprit. It might even be more than one.”

  “I’ll see if I can help.” Mr. Hamilton sat down on the edge of the sofa and began untangling the string while Eve and the boys dug through the boxes of decorations, pulling out ornaments.

  “Let me give you a hand,” Audrey said, hoping to be rid of him sooner. Together they untangled the long string, and Mr. Hamilton began the painstaking task of testing and twisting and shaking one bulb after the other to get the string to light. Audrey actually saw a bead of sweat on his brow. “Have you ever done this before, Mr. Hamilton?”

  “I wish you would call me Alan.”

  “You didn’t answer my question . . . Alan.”

  “No, I can’t say that I ever have.”

  “Didn’t you have a Christmas tree when you were a little boy?” Bobby asked.

  “Yes, of course. But someone else always decorated it for our family.” He screwed another light into the socket and suddenly they all lit up. “Success at last!” He beamed as brightly as the lights. He took one end of the string and Audrey took the other and they wound the lights around the tree.

  “You can reach up real high, Mr. Hamilton,” Harry said.

  “Will you put this star on top for us, too?” Bobby asked.

  “How about if I lift you up so you can put it on top?” He swung Bobby off the floor and lifted him up to put the star in place. Then he lowered him again and stood back to look. “I guess my work here is finished.”

  “Yes, thanks again—” Audrey began.

  But Eve cut her off. “Oh, but you can’t quit now. We still have all these decorations to hang and the tinsel and the paper chains the boys made in school.”

  “Don’t forget our tinfoil stars.”

  “You made this?” Mr. Hamilton asked, admiring the star Bobby showed him. “Very nice.”

  Eve put a Bing Crosby Christmas album on the phonograph, and Audrey relaxed enough to sing along with “White Christmas” and other favorites while they worked. By the time they hung the tinsel, which seemed to be electrically charged and clung to their hair and clothing, Audrey was laughing along with everyone else. The finished tree was nothing like Nana Barrett’s perfect one, but she thought theirs was beautiful, just the same.

  “Mr. Hamilton?” Bobby asked. “Can you cut off some branches on the bottom for us?”

  “Why? It looks very nice the way it is.”

  “Santa is going to need more room under it for toys.”

  “Santa will have all of the room he needs,” Audrey said, steering Bobby away. “I think Mr. Hamilton wants to go home now.”

  “Do you really have to go?” Eve asked. “I just made tea.” She set the tray with the pot and cups on the coffee table. “And we’re going to set up our new manger scene now and read the Christmas story from the Bible.”

  Audrey rolled her eyes. “Eve . . .”

  “I telephoned Grandma Van and she helped me find all the places to read from in the New Testament.”

  “We’re in a Christmas play at school,” Harry said. “Will you come and see us, Mr. Hamilton?”

  Bobby tugged his hand. “Please?”

  “Tell me when and where, and I’ll see if I’m free.”

  “Please don’t feel obligated, Mr. Ham—I mean, Alan,” Audrey said.

  “Not at all. There will probably be several kids from my Boys’ Club group taking part in it.”

  Audrey set the wooden stable on top of the TV console and helped the boys divide up all the plaster figurines between them. There was one Wise Man left over, so they gave it to Mr. Hamilton. Then, as they sipped tea and Eve read the Bible story, Harry and Bobby took turns putting shepherds and sheep and angels and the holy family into their places in the stable whenever Eve read that part of the story. Mr. Hamilton wore a contented look as his Wise Man went into place last.

  “Remember what Grandma Van said?” Audrey asked the boys. “Jesus is God’s gift to us.” They didn’t seem to hear her as they disappeared into their bedroom. They came out a few minutes later with their hands full of plastic cowboys and horses, Howdy Doody and Clarabell, the Lone Ranger and Tonto. Even Mr. Potato Head.

  “What are you going to do with all of those?” Audrey asked.

  “They want to see baby Jesus, too,” Bobby said.

  She watched in amusement as the top of the television console was gradually covered with visitors.

  “I have a confession to make,” Alan Hamilton said as he carried the tea tray into the kitchen. “I didn’t need to bring the papers over tonight, but I wanted to see you. And I’m glad I did. I had fun tonight. Christmas wasn’t like this in my family when I was growing up.”

  “Mine, neither.” Her earlier opinion of him had softened, and she was glad, for the boys’ sakes, that he had stayed. “Do you have brot
hers and sisters, Alan?”

  “Three sisters. I was the youngest child and the only boy. That’s why I was so desperate to escape to Boys’ Club when I was young.”

  Audrey laughed as she took the tray from him and set it on the counter. “Thank you for helping us with the tree.”

  “There’s another reason I came tonight. I’d like to ask you to go to a Christmas dinner with me. The bank holds it every year for their employees. It’s at the country club, but it’s not a formal event or anything. Just dinner and dancing. I would like it very much if you’d be my date.”

  Audrey’s heart started thumping. “Is that allowed . . . to date a client?”

  “Well, I would rather think of you as a friend than a client.”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  “I know it isn’t fair to spring the question on you so suddenly, but please think about it. You can let me know when I see you at the school play.”

  Eve looked very pleased with herself after Alan left, but Audrey was still annoyed with her. “Why did you keep encouraging him to stay? I didn’t think he would ever go home.”

  “The boys adore him.”

  “And you kept insisting we needed his help.”

  “Are you really that blind, Audrey? Alan likes you.”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  “I heard him invite you to dinner.”

  “You were eavesdropping?”

  “It’s a small house,” she said with a shrug. “Why didn’t you say yes?”

  “I don’t want to go to a Christmas party with him and his rich friends at the country club. We have nothing in common.”

  Eve laughed out loud. “Nothing in common! What are you talking about? Now, if Alan Hamilton had asked me out, I could honestly say we had nothing in common, considering that I was once a scullery maid. I had to put on an award-winning act every time I went to the country club and tried to fit in with the other women. But you, my dear, were born into that life. Your family was just as rich as Alan Hamilton’s. You not only socialized with royalty, but your father probably had more money than King George.”