The Blake Adventures: Silent Night
December 1960
Dr. Lucien Blake walked out of Sacred Heart with his arm around his wife's shoulders. She had finished drying her eyes and was putting her handkerchief back in her purse.
"Are you alright?" he asked with concern.
Jean nodded. "I'm fine. I didn't even know Catherine Michaels that well. My boys went to school with her son and daughter. They're grown now, of course, but my heart goes out to Ben and Margaret. Last year, you had their father arrested for murdering Father Emery, and he's been in prison for the last six months. And now, to lose their mother to a heart attack so near to Christmas? I can't imagine how hard that must be."
Lucien gave her a small squeeze. "We paid our respects. If they need anything from us, I'm sure they'll ask."
"Mmm," she agreed noncommittally.
"Tell you what, you can bake them something for the holiday and we can bring it to them in a few days. I'll check in on them as a friendly doctor, hmm?" he offered.
She smiled at him. "I think that would be very nice." Jean took a deep breath and let it out slowly just as they got in the car to drive home. "Alright, I think that's enough sadness today. I don't want to think about this anymore. We should do something fun."
Lucien glanced at her as he drove, grinning at her practical and strong nature. "I quite agree."
"I know it's a bit early, but why don't we decorate the Christmas tree? Since you insisted on buying the tree early anyway," she suggested.
"As I said before, Jean, when the perfect Christmas tree presents itself, you do not wait until a more convenient time presents itself. No, you snatch it right up and bring it home so your wife can complain about it for a week," Lucien responded facetiously.
Jean clicked her tongue at him in disapproval, but suppressed a grin as she looked out the car window.
Upon arriving home, Jean and Lucien found that they weren't the only ones in the holiday spirit. Charlie and Mattie were in the kitchen making batches and batches of Christmas treats.
"My goodness!" Jean exclaimed upon seeing the state of her kitchen.
Lucien followed in. "What have we here? It smells wonderful!"
Mattie, slightly covered in flour, turned to them with a smile. "We're baking biscuits! Charlie is teaching me."
"Well, I'm trying to teach her," Charlie corrected.
"I'm not very good yet," Mattie admitted. "Those are the ones Charlie did," she said, pointing to two trays full of the most perfect Christmas biscuits anyone had ever seen. "And these are mine." Mattie pointed to four trays of rather sad-looking biscuits, slightly misshapen with smudged decorative frosting.
"It's always good to learn a new skill," Lucien told her encouragingly.
"Yes, and they aren't so bad. I'm sure they'll taste wonderful, even if they don't look as pretty," Jean added.
Behind Mattie, Charlie shook his head at them with warning. Apparently they tasted about as good as they looked.
"We'll clean everything up, Jean, I promise," Mattie assured her.
"You two continue your baking lesson. We're going to start decorating the tree. You're welcome to join us when you can," Lucien told them.
With that, Jean sent Lucien to the attic to retrieve the box of ornaments and decorations. She went about tending to the tree, already sitting atop the table in the front room. Some of the branches were looking a little sparse. But Christmas was only a week away. It would surely last until then. She could just tell that she'd be picking pine needles off the table and floor every time she came into that room until Boxing Day.
"Here we are!" Lucien announced, carrying in the large box over to Jean. He set it down and grinned widely. "This is our first Christmas as husband and wife. And our first in this house as a couple," he noted happily.
"Yes, that's right. We were engaged last year at Christmastime, and we went to Adelaide to spend the holiday with Ruby and Christopher and little Amelia," Jean remembered.
Lucien nodded. "She was just starting to talk."
"She called you grandpa."
"Yes, she did," he recalled with a wistful expression. Being called 'grandpa' was never something he expected, not from Amelia or any other child. He'd been nearly moved to tears upon realizing that Ruby and Christopher must have prepared Amelia to call him that. Being welcomed into the family, before he and Jean had even gotten married, had been the most wonderful Christmas gift.
Jean could tell he was getting a little misty, so she knew to distract him. "Let's get started, shall we? I like to do the lights and garland first, then the ornaments, and finish with the tinsel."
Lucien suddenly realized that he had never decorated the Christmas tree with her in their years together. She'd always done it herself two days before Christmas. "Right. I suppose we'll start with the lights then."
They were able to string the multicolored bulbs quite easily, and Jean did the garland with the deft expertise of experience. She was eager to get to the ornaments, her very favorite part.
Lucien began unwrapping the delicate glass ornaments from their protective coverings and handing them to Jean to place on the tree. She commented on each one as it was revealed.
"This one almost broke one year. Your father was looking at the tree and the phone rang, and it startled him. You can see the small crack in the bottom from where it fell on the floor, see?" She showed him the slight damage on the porcelain bell. "I'm glad it didn't get ruined. I think it's so pretty."
Lucien smiled and handed her another. "Do you have a story for each one?"
"I think so, yes. I've been putting these ornaments on this tree for years."
"I'm glad you like them. I always did."
Jean found his statement to be strangely cryptic. "Did your father have these ornaments when you lived here as a boy?"
"Oh yes. These all belonged to my mother. That porcelain bell you like so much? I sat in her studio and watched her paint it."
"I had no idea!"
"Yes, she would buy a few new ones each year and add her own decoration to them. That way they'd all be ours, as she said." He unwrapped another ornament. This one was a white ball with delicate poinsettias painted on. "This was the first time I'd ever seen flowers of this kind. Mother remembered poinsettias from her childhood in France and always thought of them at Christmastime."
"This one was always your father's favorite," Jean told him. "I'd always put it in the front and he'd come look at it every time he came near the tree."
They continued on, each telling their own memories of the ornaments, until they unwrapped the very last one. Lucien immediately started to laugh. "Oh my god, I can't believe Dad kept this!"
Jean took the red ball painted with abstract green decoration from him and held it defensively. "Why shouldn't he keep it? It's beautiful. Actually, this one is my favorite."
He was surprised. "My god, really? Why on earth should it be your favorite!?"
"Well I know it looks a bit messy, perhaps, but I think that's why I like it so. It reminds me of what Christmas always has been for me. Messy and a little chaotic, but always comfortable and happy."
Lucien came over to give her a big kiss on the cheek. "You are a marvel, Jean, and it boggles the mind that I could have possibly found such a perfect wife to love."
She stared at him with confusion. "What on earth prompted that?"
"Your favorite messy little Christmas ornament there is the only one my mother didn't paint. I painted that one myself when I was about six years old."
Jean felt her heart melt in her chest. She looked back at the ornament she'd loved so much for all these years, seeing it now with the knowledge that her husband had painted it as a child. She gave a small smile. "I shouldn't be surprised. Everything I learn about you makes me love you more. A Christmas ornament should be no different."
He kissed her on the cheek again, this time much softer. "Put that last one on the tree and add the tinsel. I'll pour us a drink before dinner."
They were toasting to their newly decorated tree just as Mattie and Charlie joined them. "Oh Jean, it's beautiful!" Mattie gushed.
"It is, isn't it?" Jean agreed with a proud smile.
"Almost makes me glad I won't be going back to Melbourne this year," Charlie commented.
Lucien put a hand on his shoulder. "It must be hard to not be at home with your family for Christmas. But I'm glad you'll be here with us."
Charlie stared at the decorated tree with a sheepish smile. "I'm glad too. This was I can be home here with this family."
The doorbell interrupted the sentimental moment. "I'll get it," Mattie volunteered.
Since it wasn't dark yet, Jean caught a glimpse out of the front window of someone running away from the house. The sheer day curtains obscured any details beyond that. Jean frowned curiously and went to get a closer look.
Mattie opened the front door and screamed, slamming the door closed. Before anyone could question her, an enormous explosion shook the house, and smoke filled the entry way.