Thanks to Susan and Denise for their support and editing.
These characters belong to Fox, not me. But if they did I would show them on television!
"What is that?" Jonathan looked up at the green plant hanging in the doorway to the front room. "It looks really funny."
"That is mistletoe," the Captain said matter-of-factly, appearing behind the boy. "I wonder how it got there?" he mused.
Jonathan shrugged, "What's it for?"
"According to tradition if a man and a woman are caught under the mistletoe, they must kiss."
"Yuck!" the boy exclaimed, not even liking the sound of it. "I'm glad there aren't any girls to kiss around here."
"What do you call your sister, or your mother or Martha for that matter?" the seaman teased the lad. "They are most definitely not men."
"That's not the same thing, Captain." Jonathan sighed with a worldly-wise look. "Surely you know that."
"Aye, Jonathan. I do understand." Captain Gregg's blue eyes were twinkling. "I understand completely."
The front door came flying open, bringing in Carolyn, her arms full of bags. Jonathan ran to grab the one that was determined to get away from her. "Let me help you, Mom," he got a firm grasp on the paper.
"Thank you, sweetie," she smiled at him. "Can you take it into the kitchen for me?"
"I can take another one too, if you'd like," he volunteered, taking the one that looked the most interesting from the top.
With the bags securely deposited on the table and the items put away, Carolyn bent to kiss her son, but he held up a hand. "You should do that under the mistletoe, Mom."
Taking his mother by the hand, he led her under the ornamental display and stood perfectly still while she kissed the top of his head.
"Captain Gregg says that's what mistletoe is for."
"Captain Gregg is right." Carolyn said, looking the plant over. "But where did it come from?"
"You didn't it place it there yourself?" the seaman said, once more seeming to appear from nowhere.
"No, I didn't. It wasn't you?"
"Madam, where would I come across such a possession as mistletoe? I had assumed you had placed it there when you were doing your holiday decorating."
"No, it wasn't me. Maybe Martha hung it there, but however it got there, it's pretty."
"I'm not kissing any girls there." Jonathan let everyone know. "Not even my sister," and with that he headed up the stairs.
"Children," the Captain smiled. "In a few years, I'm sure he will feel much differently." He glanced up the ball, a look of concentration on his face. "This one has quite a few berries. I read somewhere that it is customary for the man to remove a berry every time he kisses a woman beneath it. When the berries are gone, the kissing stops."
"Too bad I didn't know that the night I got trapped under some with Tommy Marks." Carolyn grimaced. "I still shudder to think about it," but she was smiling. "That was so long ago."
"Getting trapped under the mistletoe with someone you do not desire to kiss could be a problem," the seaman said, his eyes resting on her lips. "I remember many a party where some mother contrived to maneuver me under one with a daughter or two."
Carolyn swallowed the lump growing in her throat and tried not to think about the look in his eyes or her growing desire to take advantage of the holiday tradition. "When my husband and I were dating, standing under the mistletoe was one way we could kiss in front of his parents. Actually, it was the only way we could ever kiss in front of them," her eyes shining with the sweet memory.
"Mom?" Candy came running down the stairs, stopping in her tracks at the sight of the holiday decoration hanging in the doorway. "Hey, that's mistletoe!" she exclaimed, coming over to get a closer look. "We were talking about it today in class. Did you know there are two different kinds of mistletoe? American is very plain while the European
is usually greener and has prettier berries. The legends that we know about actually come from the stories of Ireland and England and the immigrants brought them over. One of them was that if a husband and wife kiss under it on Christmas Day, they will be blessed with a child in the New Year."
"I was not aware of that one," the Captain joined in, "but I did know that in Sweden, the cows were fed mistletoe to ensure healthy calves. And the Celts believed that the parasite grew from the bird dung that landed on the leaves. They believed that mistletoe had the power to turn the dead back to life."
"This is an awful lot of knowledge on an empty stomach." Carolyn laughed, changing the subject, heading Candy towards the kitchen. All of this talk about mistletoe was making her very uncomfortable, even though she wasn't sure why. It was just a parasite that had a special place in the holiday traditions. She could remember as a teenager attending parties and wondering what would happen if she should become
lucky enough to be caught under the mistletoe with her current heart's desire. It was harmless fun. But just the thought of it hanging there and her longing to "trap" the Captain under there was bordering on the ridiculous – wasn't it?
"Jonathan!" she called through the open kitchen door. "Supper."
The boy came running down, skidding into the kitchen, almost tripping on the rug by the door.
"Be careful." his mother admonished. "You don't always have to run around like a banshee."
"Sorry," he muttered. Looking around the table he looked at the empty chair by the stove. "Where's Martha?"
"There's a holiday dance down at the community center tonight and Ed took her out for dinner beforehand. I hope they are having a good time."
"So does that mean that you cooked?" Jonathan said, before he thought better of it. Clapping his hand over his mouth, he sat perfectly still, waiting to see what his mother would say.
"Fortunately, you've been saved. Martha put a roast in the oven before she left. So no one should die of food poisoning or anything."
She looked stern, putting fear into both Candy's and Jonathan's heart, and even the Captain looked concerned until she winked at the seaman.
"So how was school today?" she asked the children. "Did you learn anything interesting besides the mistletoe?"
"Miss Fletcher wants me to write a poem for the Christmas pageant." Candy took a sip of milk. "But I think I'm going to tell her I can't do it."
"And why not?" Carolyn and the Captain asked at the same time, causing them to exchange a smile.
"I don't think I can. I'm not that good of a writer and I don't want to embarrass myself. Everyone will expect it to be really good because you are a professional writer and what if it's not any good?"
"How will you know unless you try?" Carolyn asked her daughter. "Don't give up just because you think it won't work. You just might surprise yourself and write a very good poem."
"Well," Candy dragged the word out. 'I will try."
"Good girl. Now why don't you start right now while Jonathan and I do the dishes?"
"Me?" the boy asked hotly. "Why me? Candy's the girl."
"Because I said so and I'm the mother." Carolyn reached over and tousled his hair. "All right?"
"All right."
When they finally finished, the two dishwashers joined Candy and the Captain in the front room. Candy was busy writing, stopping every now and then to read what she had written, erasing a word here and there and starting again. Captain Gregg was sitting in the chair by the fireplace, reading the paper Carolyn had brought home from town.
"You're in my seat." Carolyn walked over to him, thinking how little he made the big chair look.
"I was saving it for you," he got up, laying the paper down on the chair.
"How very gallant," she smiled and for the third time that night they exchanged looks that only they could understand.
He moved over to the sofa beside Jonathan and was soon caught up in helping the boy with his geography homework. It was times like this that Carolyn could almost forget that he was indeed a spirit and not the flesh and blood man she wished him to be. Not that it matters, she thought, as she carefully sewed the hem on Candy's new dress. She loved him regardless, and couldn't imagine her life without him. It was a lovely feeling that she had thought she would never feel again -- a feeling she would never tire of.
The clock struck 8:00 before they knew it and Carolyn declared that it was time for bed. Both children groaned but obediently got up and headed for the stairs.
"Come back down when your teeth are brushed and your pajamas on so I know you're ready," she told them. "I think ten minutes should cover it."
"Okay Mom," they muttered, as they raced each other up the steps.
Carolyn noticed Captain Gregg had a wide smile on his face as he watched her.
"What?" she looked at him curiously.
"I was just thinking what a good captain you would have made," he laughed.
"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment," and she gave him a jaunty salute.
Right on time, the kids came skipping downstairs, both of them insisting that they should receive their good night kiss under the mistletoe. Carolyn humored them, making kissy noises as she said good night to Candy and then to Jonathan.
"Good night, Captain," the two young ones called out.
"Good night," he called back, coming to stand beside Carolyn.
"Hey, Captain Gregg, you and Mom are under the mistletoe." Jonathan sang out. "That means you have to kiss her."
"Oh, I don't think that rule applies to old ghosts," the seaman laughed lightly.
"You said a man and woman," the boy reminded him.
"Well, yes, I did, but I really don't believe ..." the spectre tried to think of what to say, tripping over his thoughts.
"Now, go on up to bed." Carolyn made shooing motions towards the stairs.
"But, Mom ..." Candy began.
"Candy, really. I don't think that Captain Gregg and I could, I mean, well," her face was turning a bright crimson. "It wouldn't work," she finally blurted out.
"How do you know, Mom?" Candy asked with ten-year-old wisdom. "Have you tried? How will you know unless you try? You might be able to kiss him."
"Well, it is tradition," Carolyn heard Captain Gregg mutter.
She nodded, her hands feeling sweaty. She knew that they could make it look like a kiss, a quick kiss on the cheek perhaps. It would humor the children and get them both out of a fix. Blast that old tradition!
So they turned their faces towards one another, moving closer. The touch of his lips on hers was so real and solid, she almost fainted.
"Yay!" Jonathan and Candy clapped, dancing around them as if they were a May Pole. 'Good night," they chorused, running up the stairs, giggling and talking about how glad they were they didn't have to kiss anyone.
Neither one of the grownups were sure what to do. They were still standing under the mistletoe, so close she could feel the wool of his shirt against her blouse. His hands tightened around her arms and an involuntary gasp escaped her.
"What happened?" they both asked at the same time, afraid to let go of one another.
"I felt you," she finally sputtered, the seaman nodding his head in agreement. "But why?"
His hands were gently caressing her arms, the actual feel of her warmth against him more than he could fully comprehend.
"The mistletoe?" he asked, barely above a whisper. "Could it be?"
"The legend," she felt her words were disconnected. "That it breathes life into the dead?"
Her eyes searched his, wondering if such a thing could truly happen. No, it was just that – a legend, a make-believe story that had been told for so long it was considered a folk -tale now. But here they were, standing under the mistletoe, his solid
body holding hers, his hands warm through her blouse.
"Kiss me again," she said to him. "Please."
It didn't take any more encouragement on her part as his lips laid warm on hers, their kiss deepening. Carolyn felt the tears stream down her cheeks, one splashing on his hand.
"What's the matter?" he asked, alarmed at her tears.
"Nothing," she shook her head. "Everything is perfect!" And she kissed him again.
"Perfect," he said against her mouth, "completely."
Once more they reached for a kiss, her hands going around his neck, smoothing the collar of his coat with her palms. The kiss grew, neither one of them hearing the door open and Martha walk in behind them.
"Well, I'm glad that at least it worked for someone," the housekeeper said dryly, as she watched her employer and the resident ghost hastily break their kiss, but not their hold on each other. "I was hoping to get Ed under there, but it's nice to see someone is enjoying it." And giving them both a wink, Martha walked down the hall and into her room.
"Merry Christmas!"