The Christening: Chapter Two of Seven

Phoebe opened her eyes in the darkness. At first she thought the baby had woken her, then one of the other children, then Hal. But she felt no urgent pull towards any of them, and Hal continued sleeping, snoring softly. She lifted her head from his bare shoulder, and cautious not to wake him, slipped carefully from his embrace. He muttered something that might have been her name, but didn't waken.

She pulled her light robe on over her thin nightgown and quietly left the bedroom, closing the door behind her silently. Phoebe paused in the hallway, and hearing no sound but the dog's rhythmic breathing, tied the sash of her robe tightly around her waist and headed down the stairs.

Moving towards the back of the house she let herself out into the backyard. It was cool and dew had already settled on the grass. Looking up at the starry sky, Phoebe took in a deep breath of fresh air. It was a peaceful night and nothing seemed out of the ordinary or in need of her attention. She was about to concede her waking had been nothing but the result of nerves when something in the night sky caught her eye. What appeared to be a moving star seemed to get bigger and bigger, heading right for the yard.

Before Phoebe could decide what the object was, she knew it was Aunt Justine and Aunt Agatha arriving in their balloon. Then, just as soon as the realization struck her, the balloon began to take shape – first in her mind's eye then in her field of vision. The shape of the bottom of the balloon was clear, the outline of the balloon itself soon becoming visible.

With a speed she hadn't been prepared for, the balloon suddenly appeared above her. The stripes were visible although the colors were muted in the dim light. Soon Phoebe could hear the balloon, its air valves hissing, the soft fluttering of its fabric, and the hushed voices of her aunts.

"Prepare for landing," Phoebe heard although the balloon was still far above her.

"Agatha, do you hear me?" Now Phoebe could hear Aunt Justine's sharp tone and smiled. These two lovely ladies would be here soon.

"Lower the bags," Agatha was heard saying.

"And the ropes," Justine could now be seen as well as heard.

Phoebe rushed into the yard. "Aunties!" she said in a loud whisper standing directly under the balloon, head tilted back.

"Phoebe!" Agatha cried, leaning far over the side of the balloon's basket. "Phoebe, dear, we'll be right there! Oh Justine," she was overheard saying to her sister. "Our darling Phoebe is down in the yard to greet us."

"Move back, Phoebe," Justine called. "We don't want to land on you!"

She threw a rope over the side and lowered the anchor. As the balloon settled closer Phoebe took hold of the rope. When the basket was close enough to the ground, Justine secured the ladder and climbed out. Together they fastened the ropes.

"Our Phoebe," Justine said, hugging her briefly, and then holding her at arm's length said, "How well you look dear, and how happy."

"Let me see her," Agatha was laboriously climbing out of the basket. Gaining the ground, she took the few steps to where Phoebe had rushed to meet her. After embracing her, Agatha took a long look at her niece too.

"Oh my, yes," she said pleased, "very happy. She is radiant. You look very much in love and very well loved." Agatha smiled mischievously. "Your Professor must love you dearly – and keeps you happy. Are you content?" she asked.

"Yes," Phoebe told her smiling. "I am very content."

"Then that is all that matters," Justine said. "That you are both happy and in love and content with the life you have together. How are the children?"

"The children are marvelous," Phoebe told her, "all of them are happy and thriving."

"And our Baby Figalilly?" Aunt Agatha asked.

"She is wonderful, Aunties," Phoebe beamed. "Just wonderful. But she is only half Figalilly you know. She's also half Everett."

"Well," Aunt Agatha said, shrugging, "we won't hold that against her."

"Agatha!" Justine admonished.

"Oh, but of course we love her," Agatha told Phoebe. "And we approve of your Professor." She smiled impishly. "He's so handsome, so forceful and so masculine." The older woman's voice had an almost dreamy quality.

Phoebe smiled, quietly.

Agatha nudged Justine and said to her in a low voice: "I told you he had a thing for her, didn't I?"

"Agatha…" Justine said, warningly.

"All right now, Aunties," Phoebe said rubbing her hands together. "Let's finish securing your balloon then go into the kitchen for a nice long visit and some nice hot tea." She shivered slightly, "It's getting cold out here."

As Phoebe busied herself with the ropes, remembering what to do just as her aunt had taught her, they both looked on approvingly.

"Of course," Agatha said to Justine when Phoebe was out of earshot, "she wouldn't be cold if she wore more to bed. But when you have a man to keep you warm all night it doesn't pay to overdress."

"Agatha!" Justine said sharply once again, "That will be all!"

XXXXXXXXX

The kitchen was cozy in the middle of the night, and tea, sandwiches and cookies make a lovely impromptu early morning picnic. Phoebe's aunts kept her entertained, not merely with tales of their adventures, but family stories as well. Their travels brought them in close touch with family Phoebe hadn't seen in recent years, and she enjoyed hearing about so many distant relatives.

"…and then Cousin Albert gave up singing in the chorus and began dancing again – at the age of sixty-three!" Agatha said, laughing.

"But didn't Uncle Henry try to stop him?" Phoebe asked. Uncle Henry was Albert's father and well over ninety.

"Well, he would have my dear," Justine told her, "but then he would have to take his own advice and stop dancing too."

Phoebe was laughing with both of them then stopped abruptly. She bit her lip.

"Excuse me, Aunties," she said rushing from the room.

"Do you think we've woken her Professor?" Agatha asked Justine. "Or the children?"

"No," Justine said after a moment. "I think we are about to meet our great-niece Figalilly." She stood and crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator. Removing a feeding bottle she placed it in the warmer and replied, "I think she's hungry."

Moments later, Phoebe entered the kitchen carrying a pink bundle.

"Aunties," Phoebe said to them proudly, "may I present Miss Melissa Figalilly Everett."

Her aunts surrounded her cooing at the bundle.

"Oh, Phoebe," Justine said, "she looks just as you did as a baby."

"Yes, dear," Agatha said, pulling the baby's blanket back to peer at the child's face. "She does look like a Figalilly. Same nose, same brow, same coloring…" she paused, "but not the eyes."

"No," Phoebe smiled, "she has her father's eyes."

"Bedroom blue eyes," Agatha remarked. At her sister's critical look she said, "Look at her eyes, Justine. She has thick dark lashes, and a dark rim around the blue iris. I didn't make up the name. The baby has her father's bedroom blue eyes."

"And his appetite." The women were interrupted by Harold Everett's low tenor voice. He has come into the kitchen unnoticed, wearing his pajamas and robe.

"Ladies," his nod acknowledged both Justine and Agatha. Then he took both of their hands in turn, leaning forward in a polite half-bow.

"Oh no, dear," Agatha protested, "not like that." She embraced the younger man tightly. "You are a Figalilly through marriage now, my boy. And we greet you as we greet all of our family."

"Welcome to the family, dear boy, welcome," Justine also embraced him. "We may be a little late with our congratulations, but better late than never."

Hal was genuinely touched. "Well, thank you Ladies, thank you." He then glanced at his wife who smiled warmly at him.

"We were just admiring your beautiful daughter, Harold," Justine told him. "She is the very picture of our Phoebe as a baby."

He leaned over his daughter, smiling at her, and then looked into his wife's eyes. "I'm very glad to hear that."

"Except her eyes," Agatha said. "Melissa has your lovely eyes, Harold."

"Yes, well," he said to Agatha, still gazing at Phoebe, "that wasn't my idea. That was someone else's wish."

The baby began to fuss and both of her parents looked at her.

"We'd better take care of that Everett appetite," Hal said, moving to the bottle warmer, removing the bottle and testing the temperature of its contents.

As the baby drained her bottle content in her mother's arms, Hal asked Phoebe's aunts: "Are you staying in the house this time or do you still prefer the balloon?"

"Oh, the balloon, always Harold," Justine said. "We are completely self-sufficient there."

"My, yes," Agatha confirmed. "I wouldn't know how to sleep anywhere else."

"Then may I escort you to your rest?" Hal said, gallantly. "There is still plenty of nighttime left and I think we could all use a bit more sleep."

"Of course," Justine rose and kissed the foreheads of both her niece and her great-niece. "Good night dears, sleep well."

Agatha took her turn. "Good night our Phoebe, good night our Melissa," she said, kissing them both soundly on their cheeks.

"Good night, Aunties," Phoebe said affectionately. "See you both in the morning."

Hal escorted both women outside and settled them in for the night. He returned to the kitchen in time to see Phoebe stand, ready to bring the sleeping Melissa to bed.

"They are delightful," he said to her grinning. "I'm glad they've come."

"Thank you," she smiled, knowing he was sincere.

"Let's go back to bed," Hal said, slipping an arm around her shoulders and guiding his wife and daughter up the stairs.

XXXXXXXXX

When Harold Everett made it down to breakfast the next day, he was surprised by how quiet and empty the house seemed. Entering the kitchen he was met, not with the familiar voices of his family or the smells of breakfast cooking, but of boisterous laughter coming through the open back door. Following that sound, he also found electrical extension cords leading from the kitchen to the yard.

In addition to the enormous hot air balloon parked in the yard was what appeared to be a full breakfast spread across the picnic table. His entire family was seated around the table and not two – but three Figalilly aunts.

"Good Morning, everybody," Hal's greeting was friendly, but tentative. A house so full that breakfast had to be annexed to the back yard was not a usual occurrence.

"Good Morning, Sweetheart," Phoebe rose from the table with Melissa in her arms, and met him with a kiss on the cheek. "I know this is unexpected. When I came down this morning my aunts had already started cooking out here and since the children all need to start exam day off well…"

"Strawberry waffles, Dad!" Butch exclaimed with what was probably a second helping on his plate. "And there are fresh strawberries."

"And blueberries," Prudence chimed in, "and scrambled eggs and bacon and sausages…"

"…and great coffee," sixteen-year-old Hal finished. He had just been permitted to start drinking coffee occasionally, and considered himself a connoisseur.

Hal allowed his wife to direct him to a seat at the picnic table. He accepted the coffee Aunt Justine set before him, returning her smile of greeting with one of thanks.

"Good Morning, Harold," Aunt Agatha called from the waffle iron. "Strawberry waffles for you too? And eggs? And bacon?"

"Um…yes. Thank you," he answered. Aunt Henrietta, the third sister and the one with whom Hal was best acquainted eyed him from across the table. She was sipping at her own cup of coffee.

"Professor," Henrietta said in her usual chilly tone, merely nodding at him in acknowledgement.

"Henrietta," Hal nodded back. Although Aunt Henrietta was not an infrequent visitor to the Everett household, she made her lack of enthusiasm over her niece's marriage known. Never confronting Hal directly, he knew she had shared her opinion with Phoebe that she disapproved of her bringing an "outsider" into the family. She continued to show her criticism by never referring to Hal by his name, only his title. In turn, he showed his irritation at her by refusing to call her "aunt". It was petty, he knew, but effective. At least they both knew where they stood with one another.

"You children had better finish your breakfasts and gather your things,' Phoebe told the oldest three Everett children. "And you two," she said to Butch and Prudence, "have a bus to catch."

"I can drop them, Mom," Hal told her, finishing his coffee and clearing his place at the table. "We've got plenty of time."

"Yeah," Butch said handing his plate and juice glass to Aunt Justine, "since Arabella is his now, he keeps her running in perfect condition and we're never late."

"Perhaps," Henrietta remarked, "it is merely a coincidence that as he has matured, Hal's car repair skills have improved and that is why Arabella runs so well now. For a boy of his aptitudes and his trustworthiness there can be no other explanation."

Hal had to admit, although he and Henrietta maintained an uneasy peace, he was glad she had very much warmed to his children, and in particular, she adored Melissa. That may go a long way in securing his eventual acceptance by her.

Butch considered Henrietta's statement and shrugged. "I guess so. Either way, I'll take the ride. Come on, Prudence." He trailed after Hal as they headed towards the house.

Prudence also passed her breakfast things to Aunt Justine. Before following her brothers out of the yard she paused to kiss her parents and baby sister goodbye. "I wish I could inherit Arabella when I go to high school," she said wistfully.

"Not a chance," her eldest brother told her. "I'm not parting with that car – ever. Maybe you'll get a chance to drive her when you're old enough."

"Me first," Butch protested.

After the children said their "thank you's" and good byes", they were met with a chorus of "good lucks" from the adults. Phoebe looked after them for a moment with an affectionate smile, then suddenly her expression changed and abruptly she stood up. She handed Melissa to Hal.

"I had better make sure they don't forget anything," she told him with a worried frown and hurried into the house.

Hal chuckled, smiling at the baby. "You'll have to get used to Mommy doing things like that," he said kissing the baby's forehead. Melissa cooed and laughed at him. Then he looked up to find each of the aunts looking at him intently. Again he realized how little he understood this family and what they really thought of him- except for Henrietta.

"She'll have a lot to get used to," Henrietta said dryly.

Agatha set his breakfast before him and with a smile said, "Eat heartily Harold. You have a long day ahead of you and you will need to be fortified." Her eyes twinkled at him as she waved a large mixing spoon in the air. "You are the picture of strength, my boy, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared for anything."

"Um…yes," he agreed, confused by her words. "Thank you, Aunt Agatha." Hal tasted his waffle. "Delicious. Everything looks just great. I appreciate all of you preparing breakfast - it is a big help to Phoebe and a huge weight off of my mind. She would never ask for help herself."

"Of course not, Harold," Justine confirmed. "That is just not done by a Figalilly. But we all plan to do all of the cooking and all of the housework while we are here. Phoebe is handling everything well, but having a baby is tiring, even for – one of us."

"I keep telling her that," Hal started to explain, "and the children and I are doing as much as we can to help her but…"

"Well," Henrietta said airily, "evidently it is not enough. The poor girl is drained."

"Aunt Henrietta!" Phoebe sounded shocked as she suddenly reappeared on the back steps. She crossed to the picnic table. "I am surprised you'd say such a thing." Placing her hands on Hal's shoulders, she continued. "Hal and the children have been a great help. I've never felt more wonderful in my life."

"And drained," Henrietta repeated.

"Not drained," Agatha protested, "but perhaps a bit tired…?"

"No," Phoebe said firmly.

"But dear," Justine reasoned, "you must let us, all of us," she included Hal in her gesture, "help you a little. A baby and three active, growing children can use a lot of one's resources. We don't want to see you run yourself down, child."

"See?" Hal turned to look over his shoulder at Phoebe. "We're all in agreement. We only want what's best for you."

"But your exams…" Phoebe objected.

"Will be finished today," he told her, "and I'll have completed all of the grading by the beginning of next week. That will leave me plenty of time to finish up the details for the christening. The kids can help too; we'll all be on spring break."

"Well, perhaps," she smiled at him. "It is always good to have you at home."

"Great." Hal smiled back at her and stood. "And right now I'll take this angel into the house and change her. She'll be ready for her mid-morning nap before long."

"But I can…" his wife reached for their daughter.

"Yes, you can," he said, kissing her quickly on the cheek, "but I'm doing it right now."

As Hal retreated into the house with Melissa, all of the women looked after him.

"He is a good man, Phoebe," Justine told her.

"Oh yes, our Phoebe," Agatha agreed. "He's a fine figure of a man and devoted to you and to all of his children."

Phoebe smiled at them, nodding. "Yes, I am very lucky."

"I'd say he was the lucky one," Henrietta sniffed. "You work from morning till night to keep this house in order, cooking and cleaning and raising so many children." Her many bracelets jingled as she gestured widely, encompassing her surroundings. "When I think of what you might have had…"

"I have everything I could ever have wished for and more, Auntie," her niece told her.

"More work," Henrietta asserted.

"More love," Phoebe said in a tone that ended any more discussion. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to join Hal and Melissa and see what else there isn't left for me to do."

After she departed, Justine turned to Henrietta. "Really, Henrietta," she scolded. "I don't know what you keep going on about. They seem to be so happy and thriving. I don't know what more you would want for our girl."

"You know as well as I what she could have had," Henrietta said, exasperated. "She could have lived like a princess – a queen – if she had married Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh."

"But she didn't love Cholmondeley," Agatha objected. "Not the way she loves Harold. And love is the most important thing."

"Not more important than happiness," her sister said.

"But Harold does make her very happy," Justine interjected. "I have never seen her happier or more content in her life. When we were here years ago you could see how much she loved this family."

"And now she is absolutely radiant with a baby of her own," Agatha smiled, showing deep dimples. "A well-loved and well-cared for woman living with and loving a man so handsome and affectionate…"

"There's more to life than that too, Agatha," Henrietta cut her off, annoyed.

"Well if there is," Agatha remarked, returning to the waffle iron, "I don't know what it is. They've never found a better prescription for a happy life."

"Halloo!" The women were interrupted by shouts from inside of the house. "Where is everybody?" The voice continued to boom.

In the doorway of the house Horace Figalilly suddenly appeared bigger than life in his pale suit and multicolored shirt. He was accompanied by Alfred Wiggins, who was grinning broadly beneath his bushy moustache.

And right behind them was Cholmondeley Featherstonehaugh, a wide smile blooming as he removed his hat.

A crack of thunder sounded in the distance.