Author's note: Pete McGregor is an OC. He's an old friend of Ox and Indy's who studied with Abner Ravenwood at the University of Chicago. Indy and Colin Williams were both groomsmen when Pete and his wife Julie were married in 1932. Pete also appears in three other stories, Parting Gifts, (up) Webley, and Ragnarok (coming soon).
New York City
December 23, 1957
It was two days before Christmas in crowded Manhattan.
Peter McGregor, Ph.D. chair of the Archeology department at Barnett College, was enjoying a holiday drink with an old friend in the paneled bar of the University Club.
"We'll miss you at Christmas, Indy"
"I'll miss all of you, too. I've spent a lot of holidays with you, Julie, and the kids, Pete. You've all been great to me"
"We're your friends, Indy. It's hard to believe that it's been 30-some years since we were all Abner's students at Chicago. What's that you always say?"
"Well in our case it's the mileage and the years, buddy."
"Ain't that the truth. Beats me how I turned into a department chair with two grown kids and one graduating next year. And how the hell you turned into a full professor, Jones, is one of those great mysteries of the ages."
Indy shook his head. "If our students could see the couple of reprobates we were back in the day, Pete…"
"Let's just hope and pray that a few of our 'exploits' never see the light of day stateside, old friend."
The two men clinked their glasses and laughed.
"Well, I can't complain" said Indy "since my latest 'exploit' brought me back to Marion-and our son."
"Yes. Even though we'll miss having with us this year, we're very happy for you, Indy.
I'm glad you're getting a chance to know your boy. So you're enroute to Chicago? Why are you stopping in New York?"
"Other than dropping off a gift for you? I actually came early to do some shopping. I want to get something for Marion. It did occur to me that Bedford's a small town and full of my students and colleagues. Perfume is one thing, but- a man who's known to be single buying the sort of 'personal' gift that I have in mind for Marion could start a lot of gossip. Charlie Stanforth is a helluva guy, but I have no desire to be called into his office to discuss my, uh, 'love life'.
"You know you're safe with me, Indy. I was there when you and Marion got started, and I didn't tell anybody then. I can keep my trap shut now. Soo…" Pete looked speculatively at his friend, "what sort of 'personal' gift did you have in mind?"
"Something pretty, to be worn in private. I'd know where to shop in Paris or Vienna, but I have to admit I'm at a bit of a loss in New York"
"You at a loss? Hell hath frozen over, Jones.'
"Actually it's not the sort of thing I've tended to do for women. Particularly not stateside."
Pete lifted a skeptical eyebrow.
'Pete, I know you're an old married man, but think about it. Giving a woman an expensive gift, especially an expensive, intimate gift carries a lot of freight. It generally implies that you're very interested, and that you're going to stick around or at least think about it. But if you're not and…you aren't…and she'll just take whatever you give her and use it to dazzle the next man, why bother?"
Pete leaned back, took a sip of his drink, and prudently decided to change the subject.
"One of the secrets of my long and happy marriage, Indy is that I know there are a few things that a man should never buy on the cheap. One of them is women's lingerie."
Pete took out his wallet, withdrew a business card, and passed it to his old friend.
"This shop's gotten it's share of my ah, patronage over the years. Julie's always been happy with anything I've bought for her there. But I'll warn you about two things-the 'selection' is amazing and it's priced accordingly- which shouldn't be a problem for you?'
Indy sat back and allowed himself a small smile.
"It's not"
"And, the other thing is, my friend, although I hate to admit it we're not as young as we used to be. When the staff at a place like that waits on men our age, they assume that we're old fools buying for young mistresses. A well-placed remark that this is a gift for your wife-which Marion essentially is, will get you better service."
Indy looked at his old friend ruefully. "I only wish I could make Marion my wife."
"If you'll forgive me, Indy-I'm sure I'm not the only one to wonder why she isn't. This is, by your own admission, the woman you love, and the mother of your child-why aren't you married to her?"
"Because she doesn't want to marry me, Pete."
"Oh?"
"I proposed last fall, before we hit stateside. She turned me down flat."
"Well, not completely flat, obviously, or you wouldn't be going to spend Christmas with her."
"And my son. And Ox, of course. It's unbelievable, Pete. A man starts thinking his best years are behind him, and something like this happens."
"And maybe he realizes that the best is yet to come."
"Well, a fella can hope." Indy opened his jacket and gave a meaningful tap to the square blue box in the inside breast pocket. "I'm planning on asking her again."
"Tiffany's, Jones? You're moving up in the world."
"That would be 'have moved', Pete. I have tenure, remember?"
"May I see it? Julie will want to know."
"Oh all right, for Julie's sake."
Pete opened the box and gave a low whistle. "Mighty fancy, Jones. This little beauty must have set you back a pretty penny."
"Haven't got anywhere else to spend it. The sapphire in the middle was my mother's- the diamonds on the side and the setting are new."
"Well, Godspeed and best of luck, Indy. Here's hoping the lady says 'yes' this time."
"You'll be among the first to know if she does."
The two men shook hands and parted ways.
2
Outside the club, Indy flagged down a cab and gave the driver the address he'd gotten from Pete. When he got out, he wasn't sure if he'd come to the right place. The glass display window featured a tasteful Christmas tree, decked in red bows and silver ornaments, surrounded by a demure assortment of women's gloves, scarves, and handbags. To the right of the window was a door with a discreet brass nameplate: Aubade, it said.
Indy remembered his French and smiled. An Aubade is a poem for the forbidden lovers who must part at dawn. Marion and I certainly did our share of that. But not any more...
Indy opened the door to be greeted by a middle aged woman seated behind a handsome Louis XIV style table.
"Good morning, M'sieu" she said. And welcome to Aubade. Have we had the pleasure of serving you before?
Ah, this is the French system. You sign in at the desk -not your own name, necessarily- and a personal shopper, a vendeuse, takes you through the boutique. And if I'm reading this right, the prices aren't posted. It's understood that if you have to ask, you can't afford to be here. Good. Nothing but the best for my sweet baby.
"I've never been here before" said Indy, with what he hoped was a winning smile. "But when I told a friend I was looking for something truly special, he gave me your address."
"Ah', said the receptionist. "May I have your friend's name?"
"Oh, that would be telling, now wouldn't it?" Indy replied.
And now that I've proved I know the rules of the game, things should go smoothly from here.
"Indeed" the receptionist answered. "And in a business such as ours, discretion is often the better part of valor, is it not m'sieu?" Ah, I guessed right. If I'd given her Pete's name she would have said she didn't recognize it and showed me out. They must have a very high-powered clientele, here.
"All our waiting areas are private. If you'll sign my register, I'll be glad to show you to one of them. May I offer you some refreshment?
"Not necessary, thank you."
Indy signed the guest book 'Henri Defense' and followed the receptionist to a plush carpeted alcove furnished with an armchair, table and lamp.
In a few moments, a young sales clerk approached him. She was wearing a black skirt and white blouse with her hair pulled severely back.
"M. Defense?" she said, "My name is Helene. It will be my pleasure to assist you today. I understand you are looking for a gift for a lady."
"Indeed I am. For a very special lady indeed."
"And what did you have in mind, sir?"
Indy considered the dizzying prospects for a moment before he came down to earth.
"A negligee, I think"
If you'll come with me?"
Indy followed the vendeuse to the main part of the boutique. It was all mirrors, and crystal chandeliers with soft brocade wallpaper. Being a man, Indy ignored the décor in favor of the array of enticing possibilities, artfully displayed on gilt tables scattered throughout the luxurious rooms.
"If you could tell me a little about your lady, I could help you narrow down a selection, sir. For instance, what scent does she wear?"
"Depends", said Indy" In public, she wears Chanel Number 5. For me, she wears Shalimar."
"Ah" said the vendeuse. "So she's striking, original and warm, with a deep heart that she doesn't show to just anyone."
Indy was intrigued, "Pretty much .How do you know all that?"
"Oh, you can tell a lot about a woman by the fragrance she wears. Let me show you a few things that might suit her..."
He knew the right one when he saw it. The satin negligee was blue, a little darker than Marion's eyes. Its' cut was simple and elegant- Marion had never liked flounces and frills. There was a deep slit on one side, just perfect for showing off those still-gorgeous legs. Time and motherhood had given his sweet baby a more womanly figure, and he reckoned she would fill the low cut neckline very, very nicely. Mmmmmm….
Indy fingered the buttery satin, and allowed himself a moment to imagine it gliding over those luscious curves…Oh yes, this is perfect. Though I do wonder which one of us is going to enjoy it more… during the brief time she'll be wearing it, that is…
Would you like to see it modeled, sir? Pete, you dog! You didn't tell me about this part! Or maybe the vendeuse saw I'm not wearing a wedding ring and made the obvious assumption…
"Only by the lovely lady I'm giving it to, thank you."
'Very well." The vendeuse looked approving. "Could you tell me about the size, then? We use European sizes, so I don't need an exact number. Just give me an idea about her height and figure."
Indy smiled and gestured. "She's about this tall, just high as my heart, and about this big around, curvy but not heavyset." He spread his hands apart in illustration. And she's the warmest, sweetest armful a lonely man could wish for on a cold winter's night…
'That will be a 91-96, or American size 10, I think said the vendeuse. "Does that seem about right?"
"Mmm...yes."
"We should have this style available in her size. This is a beautiful gown, but it's not a style that just anyone can wear."
"She's not just anyone"
"Would you like it gift wrapped?"
"Yes, thank you, but something plain."
"Our gift wrap is discreet," the vendeuse pointed out.
"Oh no, it's not like that", Indy explained, grinning. "We have a teenage son. I'd just as soon pass on the eye rolling and the geeze, Dad."
The young clerk lost her chilly reserve and gave Indy a genuine, friendly smile. 'Well, maybe this isn't the sort of thing you'd want your wife to open in front of the kids", she allowed. "I'll write up your ticket now and if you'll just have a seat in the front, sir, we'll wrap your package and bring it out to you."
Back in the parlor, Indy withdrew an astonishing sum from his wallet, and paid for his purchase. He planted himself gingerly on one of the delicate armchairs and accepted a cup of coffee.
As he was finishing the coffee, the vendeuse walked up with a bag. It contained a gift wrapped in heavy silver paper and tied with an elegant red satin bow.
"Here you are, sir", she said with a smile. She paused and added, shyly, "If I may say so, it's been pleasure to wait on a real gentleman, who is so obviously in love with his wife. She's a lucky woman. I hope you have a very Merry Christmas with your family."
"No, mademoiselle, I'm a lucky man. And I wish you a very Merry Christmas, as well.'
Indy stepped outside, checked his watch, and signaled for a cab.
It was time to make Grand Central, so he could get on his train.
And get home to those he loved.
Coda
New Rochelle, New York
December 23, 1957
Later that day
Julie Macgregor greeted her husband with a kiss at the door.
"How was your drink with Indy, honey?"
"Pour me some coffee and I'll tell you all about it."
Pete followed his wife to the kitchen, sat down at the table, and looked around hopefully
"Any spritz left?"
Julie set two mugs of coffee and a plate of cookies on the table.
"Pete, you're worse than the kids ever were. But I saved some for you. Now, give."
"Indy looks great-easily 10 years younger than he did last time I saw him. You can tell he's as crazy about Marion as he ever was in '26-and he's just over the moon about being a father."
"I'm glad"
"I've always thought that, despite his protestations to the contrary, Indy never really got over losing Marion. Either time. He was never happy for long with anybody else, because else nobody else was her. But you know, he said he's asked her to marry him and she turned him down."
"Well, naturally she did."
"I'm obviously missing something."
"Of course you are, you're a man. Julie said in mock exasperation. "Pete, honey, you've just got to look at this from the woman's point of view. Indy's bailed on her twice. From what you've told me the first time was her father's doing, but the second time was all him. Now I've only met Marion the once, when they visited you in the hospital, but I can tell she's a smart cookie. If Indy wants her back, he's going to have to work for it."
Pete nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense. No man treasures what he can get too easily."
"And speaking as a woman, I think she deserves to be courted a little. And it sounds like he's on the right track Lingerie from Aubade, and a little box from Tiffany's? Not bad."
"He listened to me for once. And he was so happy to have the chance to spoil her."
Well, good." Julie smiled. "I wouldn't worry about Indy. If he doesn't do something incredibly stupid..."
"Honey this is Jones we're talking about…"
"Oh, Pete. There'll be a wedding before next Christmas, just you wait and see."
"From your mouth to God's ears, sweetheart. I hope they'll be as happy as we've been."
