This story was partly inspired by Miss Bridget Sharpe. I loved her Thanksgiving story and decided that I would like to write a holiday story... only mine is Christmas. Mine is a spin-off of Someone For Skipper and takes place roughly a year and a half after their rescue. Enjoy.
Mrs. Howell stood in front of the picturesque window, sipping warmed brandy with her sister Constance. Just to make things festive, they had the butler dip a cinnamon stick into each of their drinks. The two were marveling over the snow that was coming down. It had started a little over an hour before, and already the ground was covered in a blanket of white... but that was New England for you. Perhaps later on, if the weather didn't get much worse, all their guests could come out to the stables and take their turns going for carriage rides around the estate.
"Connie darling, thank you so much for opening up your home just so we can be with our dear, dear friends again," Lovey said as she patted her older sister's arm.
"Think nothing of it, Lovey darling. Frank and I were glad to do so. Of course, you and Thurston are the ones who are paying everyone's air fare to get here. All I'm doing is hosting a party... that's what a Wentworth-Howell does best," she said with a chuckle.
"I know we just saw everyone at Jolani's adoption party... but that was seven months ago! It feels like forever," Lovey exclaimed, "besides, Doris and the Skipper have that darling baby boy now. I'm so glad the biological mother didn't change her mind. I'll bet he's beautiful. I can imagine chocolate brown eyes, curly dark locks, and a creamy tan complexion."
"They didn't send any pictures?" Constance asked in shock.
"I guess they've not had time. Jolani, the poor little dear, still has nightmares almost every night. As for Isaac, Doris has mentioned he's up every two hours like clockwork. I think they're too tuckered to think about sending out pictures." Lovey Howell peered out the window again, hoping and praying that the night's winter storm wouldn't leave anyone grounded and stranded in some random airport... one possibly hundreds of miles from Boston, the place where Frank and Constance's luxurious mansion was located. Of course, the Howell's own private jets would be reserved for their island friends and their immediate families... but the parents, siblings, nieces and nephews of their friends were all to arrive by commercial airlines. Thurston and Frank were out right now, shopping for the abundance of little ones who were to be present... they had even hired a Santa Claus. With the Skipper's numerous nieces and nephews, his two children, Gilligan and Mary Ann's two children, plus their combined nieces and nephews, and adding Ginger and the Professor's son, plus his two nephews... well, the house would be full of children's laughter soon...so she hoped.
She had no sooner thought this when her darling Thurston, and his cousin Frank made a grand entrance through the big, iron double doors. A cold wind and huge flakes of snow blew in behind them, as six butlers in white dusted hats and overcoats followed in behind... each carrying about half a dozen of brightly gift wrapped packages.
"Here you go, Lovey! Instant Christmas... thanks to FAO Schwartz! Although, that was blustery weather! I'm quite surprised that even the Howell Eagle made it all the way to New York City and back in this weather," Mr. Howell stated, referring to Frank and Connie's private jet, as he warmed his hands over the fire place.
"I had the utmost confidence in you, Darling," Mrs. Howell said, as she kissed her husband's chilled cheek. "I knew that Mister old Saint Nicholas didn't have anything on Thurston Howell the third. Besides, what joy it will be to see the delighted look on those children's faces.
"My dear, you are just a little girl at heart... aren't you, my love?" Mr. Howell said, as he snuggled his wife into his arms. As the staff looked on in curiosity, Mr. Howell decided to put an end to their aloofness. "Well don't just stand there, gentlemen! You have a heck of a lot more toys to haul in! Well... get at it!"
...
At about a quarter after six, the first guests arrived.
"Gilligan! Mary Ann! Oh it's so wonderful to see you!" Mrs. Howell exclaimed, as she and Mr. Howell lovingly embraced the young couple. It was a strange sight for the Howells to see Mary Ann bundled up from head to toe, as well as to see Gilligan in a toboggan cap, and not a sailor's hat. The four adults smiled at each other, as a maid brought a warm blanket to bundle baby Abigail in, and a plate of milk and cookies were brought for Grace.
"So, I wonder who will be next?" Mrs. Howell tried to guess.
"I imagine Ginger and the Professor," Mary Ann said. "I talked to Doris just before we boarded our plane. She and the Skipper had to wait awhile before driving out to your private hanger in Saint Paul. I guess they got hit with a pretty bad storm yesterday."
"Oh dear!" Mrs. Howell exclaimed. "I do hope they can make it. Christmas won't be the same without the Captain... or without Doris."
"Don't worry," Gilligan said, ever the optimist, "the Skipper is pretty stubborn. He won't let a snow storm get in his way."
"I hope you're right," Mr. Howell said, handing a cup of hot cider to Gilligan.
...
About two hours later, the rest of the castaways arrived with their own families.
"So, we got as far as Saint Paul, and our plane had to land due to flying into another storm system," the Professor explained.
"Yes, and just when we get cleared for take off, our plane won't start," the Skipper said, "so we had no choice but to ride in the same plane with the Professor, Ginger, and Dexter."
"If God had wanted me to fly, he would have given me wings beforehand," Mrs. Hansen said with a nod of her head.
"Mother, you always say that... but we're fine. We all made it safe and sound," Helen Hansen said as she turned toward her mother.
"Well, not everybody... what about the rest of our families?" Ginger inquired.
"Oh yes! "Mr. Howell piped up. "I was meaning to tell you... but the last weather report I heard... all commercial flights were grounded for the rest of the evening... that is... anything coming this far East." The entire room groaned.
"Well this is just great!" The Skipper grumbled. "This might be ma's last Christmas and she's stuck in some airport Lord only knows where!"
"Now dear," Doris said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "she has Michael and Mary right with her. She'll be all right."
"Gosh," Mary Ann said, "my brother Hank's kids are so rambunctious. They're sure to drive him and my sister-in-law, Ella Mae, crazy. That is if they don't get kicked out of the airport first."
"My dad is probably cursing like a sailor... no offense, Skipper... and my mother is probably saying a million Hail Mary's on his behalf... my father doesn't much care for flying anyway,' Gilligan said.
"That's nothing," Ginger huffed, "some poor stranger is right now having to listen to my father regale all of his tales of hob nobbing with Raoul Walsh, Max Steiner, Bette Davis, James Cagney, Humphrey Bogart... I mean, I'm proud of my dad. He's a really talented writer, and he's met many interesting people, but I swear... he'll tell a person a dozen times about the time he was on the set of Robin Hood and had lunch with Errol Flynn and his sidekick Alan "What's his name" in the Commissary."
"Well thank Heavens they are all in a safe place and not up in the air somewhere," Mrs. Howell said bluntly, "come on now. They'll be here tomorrow. Why don't we enjoy some of our Christmas now? Connie's kitchen staff has prepared a wonderful light late night dinner. We can wash it down with some tea and cocoa, and then perhaps sing some Christmas carols.
"Jingle Bells!" Grace shouted.
"Jingle Bells!" Dexter echoed.
"My mama used to sing me "Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem," Jolani said quietly from the corner. She didn't even make eye contact, as she focused on cradling her baby brother in her arms. She was still so shy and reserved for a girl of nine... but then again, she was still getting used to the culture of being able to speak ones mind... even though she was a child.
"Oh boy! Food! Man, am I starved!" Gilligan said as he grabbed his stomach.
...
Joy had filled the music hall of Howell Manor. As it had turned out, Constance Wentworth-Montgomery-Howell was quite a proficient pianist. All seven of the castaways, and their families, had a great time together as they belted out one Christmas carol after another. Of course, the joy was only short lived... just a way to take their minds off of their loved ones who were stranded in one airport or another all over the United States. The Professor had received word that his parents were waiting out the weather in an airport in Washington D.C., while the Skipper had heard that his sister, Gayle, and her family were stuck in Indianapolis. Other than that, no one knew about the others.
"I wouldn't worry," the Professor said, "my father said that he had been waiting hours to use a pay phone. The ratio of available pay phones to stranded passengers is quite in-proportionate."
"Besides that," Doris added, "we have to remember all those flights were grounded so none of the planes would get caught in the inclement weather."
"They'll have to make sure they've rid the runways of all the ice," Ginger added.
"Plus, we've not heard any news reports of crashes," Mary Ann added, although concern for her parents, siblings, nieces and nephews loomed in the back of her mind.
"Gosh, all of this waiting and wondering," Gilligan pondered, "I wonder if this is how our families felt when they heard we were missing?"
"Gilligan," the Skipper said as he clasped a hand on his Little Buddy's shoulder, "everyone is right. Don't borrow trouble... though, mom does tend to get a bit confused... and what if Michael and Mary don't have any candy with them, in case ma's sugar drops?"
"Now who's borrowing trouble?" Doris said, as she shook her head.
"I think what all of you need is a good night's sleep," Connie suggested, "I'll have the staff show all of you to your rooms. Miriam, Helen... if you'll come with me, I have a downstairs bedroom with an adjacent bathroom that would accommodate the both of you well."
Upon the elder Mrs. Howell's suggestion, everyone bid each other a good night and wished each other a Merry Christmas, for it was now nearly midnight.
...
The Professor had just come from checking in on his nearly two year old son, who was now sleeping soundly on a cot that had been brought into the room where he and Ginger were staying. Shedding his robe, he climbed in beneath the downy comforter that covered the luxurious guest bed. He looked toward the corner, where his wife sat at a vanity, absent mindedly brushing the same section of hair that she had been ten minutes ago.
"Darling, come to bed," the Professor suggested, "we'll all have a big day tomorrow." Ginger spun around on the stool in which she was sitting and just sort of stared at her husband.
"Oh Roy! I can't help but wonder where my parents are," she said with tears in her eyes. "I never should have started complaining about my father. I used to love all of those old stories... I could listen to them for hours. What was even better was when he would introduce me to all of those amazing people. He always introduced me as his "Little Dumpling"... How could I have been so mean?"
The Professor left the spot where he had been lying and wrapped his arms around his wife.
"Don't you think I ever get tired of hearing my father talk about all of his geological discoveries? It's only natural, my dear. A little frustration now and then doesn't mean we don't love the person the frustration is directed at," the Professor explained.
Ginger sighed, "I guess you're right... You're right about something else too. I'm sure they're fine... they have to be. After all, it's Christmas, and..." Ginger's words were cut off by her sobbing. "Oh Roy! I just want my mom and dad! It's time to start making up for all those Christmases we were separated. I would give anything if the weather would just clear and all the flights would make it here by day break."
"Perhaps they will, my love," the Professor said as he held his wife close, "if not by morning, definitely by the afternoon."
...
The Skipper awoke to the sound of a screaming baby. He tried to roll to his left, but Jolani was sleeping and was snuggled closely beside him. He turned to the right to see a clock that read three thirty. Surely Doris had been up once before with Isaac, but he hadn't heard it. This middle of the night feeding, however, had been loud enough to wake the dead.
"Come on, Sweetie. Settle down," Doris whispered as she paced the floor and rubbed her son's back. He whimpered and cried some more and his little legs drew closer to his body. He grimaced his sweet little face in response to the agony of the gas bubble that was currently giving him fits.
The Skipper looked on.. his heart melting into a soft puddle more and more as he continued to watch his wife pacing the floor with their son. She could have been a Christmas angel. Her long, silver hair hung down the middle of her back as strands of it shone in the moonlight that was pouring in. Her plain cotton nightgown, which was modestly hiding a much more voluptuous frame, even looked alluring to him. Their son had calmed down some, as his head finally rested on his mother's shoulder. His legs were still drawn, but perhaps he had given in to his fatigue.
"What's the matter, little guy?" The Skipper asked his son as he went to join Doris at the window. "Gosh... who knew that a sloppy mess like this weather could be so beautiful?" This time the question was directed at his wife.
"It just one of those things, Jonas," Doris said, "you're thinking about your family... aren't ya?"
"Yeah," the Skipper mumbled, "I mean deep down I know they're all right... I think. It's hard to have hope when you can't see what's up ahead of you... kind of like sailing into a storm."
"Come on now. You were the strong one when I wasn't sure what was going to become of Jolani. Where's my strong guy at now?"
"I was bulling ya. I had you pretty knee deep in my optimism too. I was just as scared and as uncertain as you were."
"No foolin'?"
"No fooling." He said.
Things were quiet for a moment, until something grabbed Doris' attention. Though the snow had settled down to a few flurries, it had accumulated quite a bit... and the temperature had dropped. However, despite all of this, she could have sworn she saw a young boy making snow angels out on the front lawn of the estate. He couldn't have been more than a few years old... much too young to have been out by himself, even in nice weather. The child didn't seem bothered by the weather at all, but continued to frolic and play.
The boy looked familiar. There was just something about that child's face that hit home. She knew him... of that she was certain. Her heart thumped a bit faster as she took in the features of his bone structure. Suddenly, she caught sight of his eyes... deep blue eyes. The smallest wisp of curly blonde hair fell from the cap he was wearing. Tears formed in Doris' eyes, and immediately she wanted to run out to him.
"Johnny," she barely whispered.
"Whatcha' looking at?" The Skipper asked curiously, as he peered over Doris' shoulder. She wanted to tell him, but couldn't speak past the lump in her throat. It didn't matter anyway. The Skipper was so dumbstruck that he never would have heard her. He stood there, staring at the child as his heart nearly stopped. He had even forgotten to breathe for a moment. Suddenly, before he could react, the image disappeared before they're very eyes.
Doris blinked, shaking her head in disbelief. "I've gone crazy," she said to herself, yet out loud.
"If you're crazy then I'm crazy too," the Skipper said as he wrapped an arm around his wife. He didn't come right out and tell Doris that he had seen Johnny too... but she understand. "Let's go back to bed. I'm not worried now. All of our families are being watched over... and one special angel in particular is watching over his grandma stuck in an airport."
...
Gilligan awoke to the sound of Abby's cries and Grace's pleas for Mary Ann to take her downstairs. The little girl was anxious to find out if Santa Claus had come.
Gilligan looked out the window and thought it was a beautiful sight. The frosted over glass with the sun shining through reminded him of some of those minerals that use to build up in the caves on the island. The Professor would tell him about a million times the names of each one, but Gilligan could never remember. All he knew was that they were shiny and pretty. The Professor had told him the deposits had no real value, but Gilligan didn't care. He would dig them up and take them home to Mary Ann anyway. He loved to pretend that he was like Mr. Howell, and was showering his wife with the most expensive jewels that money could buy. Mary Ann knew they had no real value, but it didn't matter to her either... it had come from Gilligan, and that was all that mattered.
Gilligan chuckled as he arose from his bed. How silly it had been of him to pretend like that. He was a man now. Although, it had shocked him how quickly he had grown up. It had seemed that one day he was cutting class with Skinny Mulligan, and the next he was being First Mate right along side his big buddy. He knew his children would grow up equally as fast. With this in mind, he decided to hide his concern for his parents and paint on a goofy grin. He couldn't spoil Christmas for his daughters. After all, they would be this little only once.
"Good morning! Merry Christmas!" He said as he kissed his girls and then Mary Ann.
"You're in a good mood," Mary Ann commented. She herself was in a good mood. Just minutes before Gilligan awoke, she had received word that most of her family was on their way.
"It's Christmas morning! Of course I'm in a good mood," he replied, then turned to his girls, "come on, I wanna see what Santa brought us!"
...
It wasn't long before everyone was gathered around a huge dining room table as Frank Howell's staff served all a breakfast fit for a king. Chatter soon began as dishes were passed around. Each one was vocalizing about the nice accommodations of the mansion, or they were regaling stories of their own favorite Christmases.
While the banter carried on, two people, a couple tip-toed into the dining hall. Lovey spied them first, but the woman held a finger to her lips and mouthed "not a word". Lovey nodded in agreement and decided to play along.
"William, would you pass the butter?" The voice said.
"Sure mom... mom?" Gilligan's eyes went wide when he looked behind him. "Mom! Dad!" The whole table burst into laughter.
"Son, I'm sorry we didn't call," his father explained, "the flights got cancelled before we ever left for the airport. Our neighborhood's phone lines were down, so we couldn't call you. When service was restored, the airline called us with our rescheduled flight."
"We're not the only surprise. You'll never guess who had a layover at the very airport we were at?"
"Who?" Gilligan asked eagerly. The Skipper's brother, Michael, wheeled his mother into the dining room. His sister-in-law, Mary, stayed quiet like the shy flower that she was. They weren't the only surprise though... for right behind them came Mr. and Mrs. Grant. The whole room was ecstatic with joy.
Eventually, throughout the day, each and every family member... including Doris' friends from Tennessee... had made it to Howell Manor safe and sound. Now everyone could breathe a sign of relief and enjoy their holiday.
...
That afternoon, after a gourmet Christmas dinner, the children were anxious to open their gifts. Mrs. Howell was trying to hold them off as long as possible, by having the staff take them for carriage rides, feeding them goodies, and allowing them to watch Christmas movies on the television. She could stall no longer. Finally, she had called their hired Santa Claus that had been a no show. Once getting his explanation, she sighed in despair.
"The poor man has the flu... he's not been out of bed all day," she said glumly.
"Outrageous!" Mr. Howell huffed. "I've never been so insulted! Doesn't he remember how much I offered him?"
"Yes dear... I think he does. I think it makes him equally as sick that he won't be getting paid... but Thurston, after all, money isn't worth much if you can't even pull yourself out of bed."
"Mrs. Howell is right," the Professor said, "the flu can have devastating symptoms... and is nothing to fool around with. Perhaps it's better he didn't come. The flu is highly contagious after all."
"Where can we get a Santa on such short notice?" Mr. Howell asked.
"I know the perfect Santa," Mrs. Howell said with a grin as she looked in the Skipper's direction.
"Who? Me? Aw no!" He said, trying to take a step back. "Besides, unless you got a Santa suit hiding somewhere, you're out of luck... and every store is closed."
"I have an idea," Mr. Grant said, "if you'll allow me to make a collect call to Hollywood, I can get you a suit. It can be flown out here in a few hours. The Skipper here can be in costume in just enough time to read "The Night Before Christmas" as a bedtime story."
"Splendid!" Mrs. Howell said, clasping her hands.
...
"You look great, Skipper. Mrs. Howell was right," Mr. Grant said as he straightened the fur collar on the Santa jacket. "Mrs. Howell, have you ever thought of being a casting director? I can pull some strings at Warner."
"Oh dear me, no! I'm much too busy of a woman with interests of my own," Mrs. Howell said with a blush.
"How did you get ahold of this suit again?" The Professor asked his father-in-law.
"One of the costume designers at Warner owned me a favor... let's just say his habit of betting on losing horses caught up to him. It was much cheaper for him to dig out this little relic and ship it to me, rather than paying me back."
"I feel like an idiot! Do I really have to do this?" The Skipper complained as he looked at his reflection in the mirror.
"Jonas, you're the most handsome Santa I've ever seen," Doris said as she looked him in the eye and stroked his wooly face. "Besides, the children will love it. Remember.. you won't be by yourself out there."
"True, " the Skipper said, "come on out Gilligan."
"NO!"
"GILLIGAN! NOW!"
"NO! I won't do it!"
"Gilligan please," Mary Ann begged, "do it for the children." Reluctantly, Gilligan came out from the next room. All the adults burst into laughter, as they looked at the First Mate. There stood Gilligan in a full reindeer costume... hoofs, antlers, and all.
"I feel ridiculous," he complained.
"Aw Gilligan, you look adorable, " Mary Ann said as she tried to keep a straight face, "the kids will love it."
"Well, Little Buddy, let's get this over with,' The Skipper said as he dragged Gilligan by the hoof.
...
As the children sat in the other room, watching The Wizard Of Oz on television, the Skipper and Gilligan crept in behind them. Gently, the Skipper shook the bells that were in his hand. One child's ears perked up, and then another.
"Santa's here!" One of Mary Ann's nieces shouted. All the other children turned around to see Gilligan and the Skipper standing in the doorway. Immediately, the children rushed over to them. Jolani gave her father a curious look. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked back at her with an expression that said, "please don't give it away." Jolani just smiled and took her place with the other children.
After Gilligan had told a few Christmas jokes, and each child had a chance to sit on "Santa's" lap and received a candy cane, the children all gathered round to hear Santa read T'was The Night Before Christmas. The Skipper settled in, with Grace and Dexter upon his lap, cleared his throat and began to read. Once the story was done, most of the children had to be carried off to bed.
...
As the children slept, the adults continued to celebrate. Each couple took their turn under the mistletoe, as the rest danced to songs like "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" and "The Christmas Song". Yet others sipped champagne, and shared laughter with their siblings as they relived all of their old memories. In spite of the weather that had almost kept them apart, it had turned out to be one of the best Christmases they ever had.
...
Long after everyone had went to bed, Mrs. Howell sat in the drawing room with her husband, Frank, and Connie. They sipped Earl Grey as they discussed the events of the last forty eight hours.
"I can't wait to do this next year!" Lovey exclaimed with excitement.
"Lovey, we can't do this next year... maybe not again for a long time," Mr. Howell said.
"Why ever not!"
"Lovey dear... we have to face the facts that these friends of ours have their own lives... in different places. It's not like the island anymore. All of these families came together as a special occasion. They did it just because we all couldn't be together last year. We were all so busy trying to get resettled after being rescued. Our friends have obligations to their own families... I'm sorry, Love."
"Oh poo!"
"Don't worry, dear. I've spoken with the others. We all think it would be a great idea to get together every year... just not at Christmas... and it would be just the seven of us, plus Doris, and of course, the children. What do you think of that?"
"I think that's a marvelous idea!" Mrs. Howell exclaimed. "Oh Thurston! I think this reunion is the best Christmas present that I've ever gotten."
The End.
*In the story, FAO Schwartz is an actual toy store in New York City. Max Steiner is a film composer from the golden age of Hollywood. Raoul Walsh is a director from about the same time period. Of course, a few famous actors and actresses are mentioned. I decided to refer to Alan Hale Sr. as Alan "what's his name" to avoid conflict of interest... being that the characters in this story, including the Skipper (played by Alan Hale Jr) are suppose to be the real people. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this story.