The Wish Book Christmas Page 7

“He wasn’t my father,” Audrey murmured. It still hurt to remember. “Alfred Clarkson wasn’t my father.”

  Eve saw Audrey’s tears and pulled her into her arms. “I’m sorry, Audrey. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I don’t know why I feel so weepy,” she said when Eve released her again and she’d brushed away her tears. “Christmas is supposed to be a happy time, but I keep thinking that Robert should be the one who lifts Bobby onto his shoulders to see the parade. Robert should be helping me put up the Christmas tree and boosting Bobby up to put the star on top.”

  “Remembering will probably always be hard,” Eve said. “But Robert wouldn’t want you to mourn forever.”

  “I know. I know. But I’m not sure he’d be happy to see me drinking tea with the banker’s wealthy son.”

  “Why not? You know, when you describe Alan’s family as rich and entitled, aren’t you also describing Robert and his family?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the way Robert and I wanted to live.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too judgmental to reject a nice bloke like Alan Hamilton simply because he’s rich and comes from a good family? He’s a very nice guy, Audrey. I couldn’t find a single fault with him tonight—he even managed to get the light strings to work. He’s a Boys’ Club leader, for goodness’ sake. How many snooty country-club men do you know who would volunteer to lead a group of kindergarten boys? How many other gentlemen would wrestle with someone else’s Christmas tree in his starched shirt and pin-striped trousers?”

  “I hope the tree sap didn’t ruin his clothes.”

  “And he is very attractive—or didn’t you notice?” She began poking Audrey in the shoulder until she squirmed away, grinning.

  “I guess I did notice.”

  “He has dimples.”

  “Only one. In his left cheek.” Audrey had wanted to touch it.

  “Hooray! You did notice! Go with him, Audrey. Get to know him a little better before you decide whether or not he’s your type. It’s just dinner. What’s the harm? You might even have fun.” Eve paused, then asked, “What are you so afraid of?”

  Audrey closed her eyes, remembering. “When I lost Robert, I wanted to die. I don’t ever want to feel that much pain again.”

  “Then you’ll have to stop living, because life is going to bring pain. It’s a certainty. I loved Alfie. I didn’t think I could ever love anyone that much. But I loved Harry’s father too, and that pain is still with me because he wasn’t mine to love. To this day, the shame I feel makes the pain even worse.”

  “Are you afraid to love Tom?”

  “Maybe. But we aren’t talking about me, Audrey; we’re talking about you. Did you see Alan’s face tonight when he was helping us? He was enjoying himself, in spite of being all thumbs.”

  Audrey smiled, picturing his grin when the lights finally went on. “He told me he’d never decorated a Christmas tree before. And he thanked me for letting him help.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t buy into the wealthy lifestyle, either. Maybe he wants what you have. Promise me you’ll give him a chance. Promise me you’ll accept his dinner invitation.”

  Audrey sighed, then nodded. “All right. But I must be crazy.”

  Chapter 6

  13 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

  Eve’s workday had been a busy one, and she felt as though she’d barely had a chance to eat supper and catch her breath before it was time to leave for the Christmas program at school. She was in the boys’ bedroom, trying to tame Harry’s springy red hair with a wet comb, when he asked, “Can we have the Wish Book back again? Bobby and I need to change something.”

  “We already mailed your letters to Santa Claus, remember?”

  “I know, but we need to tell Santa we changed our mind.”

  “What did you change your mind about?” Audrey asked. She was trying to prod Bobby off his bunk and into his trousers and shoes.

  “Well, if there’s two things we want on the same page,” Harry said, “Santa can give one to Bobby and one to me—and then we can share.”

  “It’s very nice that you’ve decided to share,” Eve said. “I’m happy to hear it.”

  “So can we have the book?”

  “Maybe later. Let’s go or we’re going to be late.”

  “That was sweet of the boys to decide to share, wasn’t it?” Audrey asked after she and Eve had taken their seats in the school cafeteria for the play. The lunch tables had been folded and stacked to the side, and rows of chairs faced a makeshift stage. The sound of children’s voices echoed in the large room, threatening Eve with a headache.

  “I’m very suspicious of their new plan,” she told Audrey. “I think it might be just a clever ploy to get more toys. And I foresee more than a few squabbles when the time comes to share.”

  “You’re being very cynical.”

  “I’m being realistic—and do you really want to see the Wish Book make a reappearance in your house?”

  They had saved seats for the boys’ guests—Grandma and Grandpa Van and Tom, who sat beside Eve, and Mr. and Mrs. Barrett, who sat beside Audrey. Eve was glancing around as the school cafeteria filled with parents and grandparents. She spotted Alan Hamilton standing in the back.

  “He came,” she said, nudging Audrey. “Alan Hamilton is here. Go back and invite him to sit with us.”

  “That seems a bit nervy.”

  “He’s here to see Bobby and Harry. They invited him, remember? And don’t forget, you promised me you would accept his dinner invitation tonight.” Audrey sighed and went back to speak with him. “Move over so there will be an empty seat for him beside Audrey,” Eve whispered to Tom.

  Alan greeted the Barretts, who seemed surprised to see him. “The boys invited Alan,” Audrey was quick to say. “He’s their Boys’ Club leader at church.” Eve made all of the other introductions, and Alan and Tom remembered each other from high school. “We played football together,” Alan explained.

  “That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” Tom said, chuckling.

  The lights dimmed and the program began with children from the upper grades reciting poems like “’Twas the night before Christmas,” singing carols, and playing a few ear-piercing numbers on their song flutes. Finally it was time for the kindergarten class to present their play about the Christmas story.

  “I’m nervous for Bobby,” Audrey whispered. “He’s usually so shy.”

  The boys’ teacher, Miss Powell, led most of the kindergarten children, dressed in Christmas finery, onto one side of the stage to form a choir. Mary and Joseph shuffled onto the other side of the stage, trying not to trip over their long robes. They approached the innkeeper, who stood with his arms folded across his chest, looking grumpy. “We need a room for the night,” Joseph said.

  “There’s no room in the inn!” he shouted. “It’s full!” Mary backed up a step, clearly upset by his words or perhaps by the way he had bellowed them at her. When she seemed about to burst into tears, the innkeeper had a change of heart. “Wait. Would you like to come in and have a drink of water?”

  “I don’t remember that part in the Bible,” Tom whispered as the audience chuckled. Mary might have accepted his offer, but Miss Powell was waving vigorously from the other side of the stage, shaking her head and motioning for the holy couple to sit down inside the stable in the center of the stage. An angel with filmy wings, a white robe, and a lopsided halo waited there for them.

  The angel drew a breath as if about to go deep-sea diving and said in a rush, “That-night-baby-Jesus-was-borned.” Mary reached behind the bale of straw she was sitting on and produced a towel-wrapped doll. She held the doll close, rocking it in her arms as Miss Powell cued the rest of the kindergarten children to sing.

  “‘Away in a manger, no crib for a bed . . .’”

  But the baby wasn’t in the manger; he was still in Mary’s arms. The angel tried to snatch him away. “Baby Jesus is supposed to go in the manger!” she hissed.

  “No! I’m ho
lding him!” A tug-of-war broke out between the two that yanked the doll’s arm from its socket and required Joseph to mediate.

  “‘But little Lord Jesus no crying He makes,’” the children sang.

  “And keep him there!” Joseph said as he plunked the doll and its severed arm into the manger. Mary burst into tears. She tried to run from the stage, but Miss Powell caught her and coaxed her back to her hay bale in the stable. She also herded three choir members back to their places after they’d wandered over to see baby Jesus’ mangled arm.

  Eve glanced at Audrey and covered her mouth to keep from laughing.

  It was time for the shepherds. The teacher nodded to someone on the opposite side of the stage, and a band of shepherds wandered out in their bathrobes, trying not to trip over their “sheep”—children covered in cotton wadding and walking on their hands and knees. While the choir sang another out-of-tune verse about the shepherds, several sheep began to wander. The shepherds tried to corral them with their staffs, and it turned into a free-for-all with shepherds prodding sheep and sheep trying to grab the staffs from their hands.

  Mercifully, the song ended and a young angel, who obviously aspired to be a ballerina, pirouetted onto the stage. After two dizzying twirls that brought her perilously close to the edge of the stage, she made her announcement: “Fear not! A Savior has been born to you . . . so stop fighting!” Her shouts ended the wrestling match between shepherds and sheep. “You will find the baby in wadded-up clothes and lying in a . . . um . . .”

  “Manger!” Joseph shouted.

  “Oh yeah, a manger.” She started to twirl and pirouette her way off stage, then stopped and said, “He’s in Bethlehem! I was supposed to say in Bethlehem!”

  “Did they actually rehearse this?” Tom whispered with a grin. Eve poked him with her elbow.

  One of the shepherds took a step forward and said, “Let’s go and see this . . . this . . . Let’s go and see this crazy thing . . . that . . . that just happened.” His sigh of relief after delivering his line could be heard in the back row. The shepherds and their flock ambled across the stage to the manger, the sheep bleating loudly as if trying to outdo each other, while the choir mumbled their way through a verse about angels.

  “Be quiet!” Mary shouted above it all. “Baby Jesus is trying to sleep!” She reached into the manger to cover the doll’s ears.

  With the shepherds and sheep successfully shuffled to the side, it was time for the Wise Men to arrive. “Here we go,” Eve whispered. Three little kings with tinfoil crowns marched out in a line while the choir sang. Another boy was leading, then Harry, then Bobby, who stared down at the floor, his face pale, as if he was either on his way to a funeral or about to throw up.

  “Oh no. I think he has stage fright,” Audrey whispered.

  “I hope Miss Powell has a mop handy,” Eve replied.

  The first king gazed straight ahead as he strode majestically toward the manger to deliver his gift. Harry was more interested in the audience than he was in Jesus, and he peered out at the crowd, grinning from ear to ear as he scanned all the faces. When he saw Eve and the rest of his family, his face lit up and he began to wave. Eve scrunched lower in her seat. Harry turned around and nudged Bobby, pointing to their family as if urging him to wave, too. Bobby shook his head, still staring at the floor.

  They were almost to the manger when Harry, who wasn’t watching where he was going, bumped into the first Wise Man. The boy turned and gave Harry a shove, which made him stumble backwards into Bobby. Naturally, Harry shoved the boy back.

  Miss Powell scurried over to separate the two, saying, “Give the baby your gifts. Please!” She was clearly eager to be done with this play.

  The first Wise Man laid his box beside the manger. Harry stepped up next and said, “Mine is full of gold, see?” He opened it, tipping it a little too far, and a cascade of foil-wrapped chocolate coins spilled out, rolling across the stage.

  “Candy!” one of the sheep said, and the flock scampered forward on all fours to scoop it up. “Hey! That candy is for Jesus!” Harry shouted. “Give it back!” Once again, the exasperated teacher had to restore order as the audience roared with laughter.

  “Well, I’ll be moving back to England now,” Eve said.

  “No, this is hysterical,” Tom said. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss this.”

  When the laughter died away, it was Bobby’s turn to present his gift. “I brought you this,” he said, setting down his box. “And this.” He lifted his kingly robe and dug in his pant pocket, producing a small stuffed rabbit, which he set on top of the injured doll. The audience gave a collective sigh. “Awww.”

  “Bobby saves the day!” Tom whispered. Eve gave him another poke. The melee finally ended with the entire kindergarten class singing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”

  Nana Barrett was beaming as she applauded. “That was wonderful! Wonderful!”

  Her husband frowned. “Were we watching the same performance?”

  Eve looked at Audrey and they burst out laughing.

  There were cookies for the children afterwards and coffee for the grown-ups. Harry bounded over to Tom, asking, “Did you see me? Did you see me?”

  “Couldn’t miss you, kiddo. You did great.” He picked Harry up and swung him through the air before setting him down again. Grandma Van pulled him into her arms for a hug. Tears filled Eve’s eyes. They looked just like all of the other happy families with mommies and daddies and grandparents—but they weren’t a family. Maybe they never would be. She stepped back to distance herself from Tom and his parents.

  “Thank you all for coming,” she said. “You really didn’t have to.” Her tone came out colder than she’d intended.

  Tom gave her a hard look. “You don’t need to thank us, Eve. My parents and I are family, aren’t we? Of course, we would come.”

  Eve turned away and tried to soften the impression she’d just made by thanking the Barretts and Alan Hamilton for coming, as well. When she turned to speak with Tom again, he had disappeared.

  Audrey told Harry and Bobby to change into their pajamas when they got home, “But you may stay up a bit later tonight since there’s no school tomorrow.” Of course, Eve would still have to go to work tomorrow and couldn’t be with her son. She plugged in the Christmas tree lights and sank down on the sofa, still upset that Tom hadn’t said goodbye.

  “Listen, Eve,” Audrey said, turning to her. “You know how we’ve been talking about trying to curb the boys’ long wish list this Christmas? And how we want to teach them what Christmas is really about? Well, I’ve been thinking about it for days now, and along with the birthday party for Jesus, what if we also—?”

  “Wait. Did you accept Alan’s dinner invitation tonight?” she asked Audrey.

  “I did.”

  “Good. Now you can continue.”

  Audrey was about to say more, but the boys thundered into the living room in their pajamas, carrying a platoon of tin soldiers and Bobby’s stuffed bunny. They added them to the manger scene on the TV console.

  “I’ll tell all of you at the same time,” Audrey said when they finished arranging the toys. “I had an idea while I was watching your inspiring performance—”

  “Our what?”

  “Your play . . . when I was watching your play. The Wise Men gave gifts to Jesus, right?”

  “Mine was gold!” Harry said.

  “Yes. Well, since Christmas is about giving gifts and not just receiving them, I think we should give away some gifts, too. To help people somehow. Just like the Wise Men did.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea, Audrey!”

  “You boys have money in your piggy banks that you can use to buy the presents—”

  “But that’s my money,” Harry whined. “I worked for it, doing chores.”

  “Where do you think the money comes from to buy our food or pay for our clothes?” Eve asked. “Somebody has to work for it.”

  “If you don’t want to spend the mone
y in your piggy bank,” Audrey said, “you can do extra chores and earn more.”

  Harry sagged to the floor, sighing dramatically. “More work?”

  “I don’t want to open my piggy bank,” Bobby said.

  “Well . . .” Audrey raked her fingers through her hair, her frustration clear. “Why don’t we start by going through your toy box tomorrow and picking out some toys that you can give away to children who don’t have as many as you do?”

  The boys looked horrified. “Our toys?” Bobby asked.

  Harry groaned. “This keeps getting worse and worse!”

  “You have so many toys there’s hardly room for any more on your shelves.”

  “Can’t we get new shelves?” Bobby asked.

  “Bobby, some children have no toys at all.”

  “Can’t Santa bring them some?”

  “I think your mummy’s idea is an excellent one,” Eve said, clapping her hands. “When I was your age, I was one of the children who didn’t have very many things. Your mum was very kind to me, and she used to share her books with me because I didn’t have any books at all at my house.”

  “It’s wonderful to share what you have,” Audrey said. “We want you boys to see for yourselves how nice it is. We can be just like the real Wise Men, giving away gifts.”

  “And I think I know who the first gift should go to,” Eve said. “Remember that little run-down house we pass on the way to Grandma Van’s farm? I’ve seen children playing outside, and I think they would enjoy getting some toys for Christmas.”

  “Wonderful!” Audrey said. “I’ll call Grandma Van tomorrow and see if she knows anything about them.”

  But when Eve looked down at the mutinous looks on the boys’ faces, she didn’t see much hope of Audrey’s plan succeeding.

  Chapter 7

  12 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

  “Yay! No more school,” Bobby cheered as he gulped his Rice Krispies the next morning.

  “Let’s build a snow fort! Want to?” Harry had finished his cereal, and he lifted his bowl to drink the last of his milk from it, then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Bobby lifted his bowl to imitate Harry, but Audrey stopped him in time.