Title: The Christmas Gifts
Author: Mary
Rating: PG
Summary: For their third Christmas together, the Ghost and Mrs. Muir try to find the perfect Christmas Gifts for each other.
Disclaimer: The characters from 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir ' belong to 20th Century Fox and David Gerber productions. No infringement is intended, no profit made, and they will be returned unharmed from whence they came. My story is for enjoyment only.
"All other characters, plots, storylines and development of GAMM characters belong to the author and may not be used or changed without express written permission.
The use of copyrighted names: Partridge Family, Clue, Betty Crocker, Matchbox, and Erector Sets are used in context of the story and the year 1971 and, in no way are designed as an endorsement or infringement of copyright laws.
Special acknowledgments to the literary talents of John Masefield, Clement Clarke Moore, and to Chantal and Kathy for helping me (finally!) figure out Carolyn and Daniel's presents in the story. Major thank-you's to Kathy for providing some last-minute, much-needed 1970 research and for letting me bounce plot-lines and ideas off her morning, noon and night, and to Kathy and Susan for editing!
Merry Christmas all!
The Christmas Gifts
Carolyn stared at the balance in her checkbook and frowned. Eight dollars and forty-two cents. Eight dollars and forty-two cents. Not enough money to do anything with, except maybe buy a few groceries — a carton of eggs, bread and some gas . . . the latter item getting more expensive all the time. Carefully she calculated the total again. No . . . the result was the same.
What on earth am I going to do now? she thought. This is NOT fair . . . Not after everything that has happened since March, not after I worked so hard to avoid this very problem . . . Not after Daniel and I have finally admitted . . . accepted what we really mean to each other!
Carolyn pushed the checkbook away from her with a sigh, stood, and walked through the French doors and out on the balcony, taking up her favorite position by the Captain's wheel. Softly, she stroked the smooth, well-worn wood beneath her fingertips, and let her mind shift back over the months since the night of March 13th — the night of her parent's anniversary dinner, when she and Daniel had finally confessed their deep feelings . . . their love for each other.
In the months between March and December, the spirit of Captain Daniel Gregg and Carolyn Muir had come to an 'understanding' . . . the realization that despite the gulf of one-hundred years and that of life and death that lay between them, that they loved each other, belonged together, and finally they had stopped fighting the logic of it all and started enjoying every part of their relationship that they could.
"But I still cannot touch you . . . " the seaman had growled, frustrated, late one evening, only two days before. "It's almost Christmas. In March I said if I were alive I would to give you jewels and palaces . . . It's December and I cannot even take you in my arms and love you as I should — as a man — at least as much of a man as I can be! Why did God put you here, or me, when I cannot show you in every way how I feel?"
"We have our dreams, Daniel," Carolyn had replied, looking up into his eyes. "We can touch, and go anywhere, and do anything, in the dreams you make for the two of us."
"I realize that, my dear," and the seaman had sighed. "But it's not enough. I want to be able to do more, to give you more. But I am a shadow of the man I was . . . it's not fair to you . . . "
"You are here, and I am here — NOW — and that is all that counts, my love." Carolyn replied, trembling. "Now why don't you go see that everything is secure, and I'll meet you in our cabin in about twenty minutes?"
The seaman had smiled. "All right, my Darling."
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August, Carolyn thought back, as she gripped the wheel tightly, grateful that Martha was out somewhere with Ed Peavey and the Captain was away from Gull Cottage for the time being. He and the children were taking a walk – out looking for pine cones and evergreen boughs to put on the hearth and decorate the dinner table, and not due back for several hours. Along about August I started plotting all of this! How could this happen?
That August was indeed when Carolyn had started her master plan. This Christmas had to be different. Unique. Unlike their first year in Gull Cottage when Carolyn and the children celebrated a very quiet Christmas, still adjusting to their move to Schooner Bay that fall and getting to know the spirit of Daniel Gregg, or their second, which had the excitement of the 'abandoned' baby and everyone's lovely Christmas dream — their gift from the Captain. Carolyn wanted this year to be as peaceful as possible . . . and did not want to not worry about last minute holiday expenses for a change.
As an end-all to her goal, Carolyn started her Christmas budgeting and shopping early in the late summer and autumn of 1970. By working just a little harder — getting just a few more articles out, and scouring the general store and Deke's Antique Shop very early in the season for bargains, she managed to purchase presents — nice presents — for everyone on her list; Her parents, in-laws, Ralph and Marjorie, cousins Harriet and Hazel, and token Christmas presents for Claymore, and Candy and Jonathan's teachers.
She had found Candy's much-wished-for Partridge Family Album, 'Clue' board game and baseball glove, Martha's stainless steel mixing bowls, bubble bath, and the newest edition of the Betty Crocker Cookbook, Jonathan's Matchbox cars, baseball and Erector Set, and a goodly assortment of needed clothes for each child. She had also, thanks to Mark Finley and a bonus article in the SBB, been able provide 'allowance money' for Candy and Jonathan to earn so they could make their own choices of gifts for both sets of grandparents, Martha, and her, although the latter, she kept insisting, were not necessary.
Carolyn purchased the Christmas tree from the Cub Scouts and it had been decorated with both new and older ornaments a week ago, and only three days before, she had made a monstrous trip to the grocery store in town and purchased the turkey - all 25 pounds of it (at .65 cents a pound - prices jacked up for the holidays) and all the other Christmas dinner fixings she and Martha had decided they needed — sweet potatoes, white potatoes, (Jonathan and Martha detested sweet potatoes while Carolyn and Candy adored them) extra bread and sausage and other items for Martha's mouth-watering stuffing, the makings for Waldorf salad, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, and all the ingredients for Martha to make her delicious pumpkin, apple and cherry pies. Martha was world class in the kitchen, but the basic elements still had to be bought!
But this year brought an extra assignment — one that was, in turn, both the ultimate challenge and a sheer delight for Carolyn — Finding the 'perfect' present for seaman and Captain extraordinary, Captain Daniel Gregg.
Then, about three weeks before Christmas Eve, after despairing that she would ever find the consummate gift for, as she had once put it, "the man who has nothing . . . and can't use anything," Carolyn had found it. It had practically reached out and licked her hand in Deke's Antique shop that day. She had been looking for a present for her father (and later found one) when she spied what could only be destined to belong to her Captain. A tobacco box. Not just any tobacco box, but one with a top of inlaid ivory. And miracle of miracles, the pattern was exactly the same as that on the Captain's beloved Meerschaum pipe!
Carolyn grinned as she stroked the beautiful antique. She had gotten to know Daniel's pipe well over the past few months. While still basking in the glow of their new relationship, Carolyn finally confessed to her Captain that while she had brought him cigars to celebrate the sale of Maiden Voyage, the merest whiff of cigar smoke made her violently ill — and it took every bit of willpower she had not to throw up on (through) him when he puffed away. Scolding her gently for letting him make her sick, Daniel asked if she reacted the same way to pipe tobacco, and Carolyn shook her head.
"No, Darling. My grandfather Jonathan smoked a pipe, and so does my father. I love the smell of pipe tobacco."
Daniel shrugged at the inconsistencies of females. "Well, just so long as you do not confuse me with your father, my dear, I promise to relegate the cigars to the widow's-walk," Daniel replied, giving Carolyn a look that made her blush. From that day forward, the Captain's pipe was much more in evidence, and Carolyn smiled to herself every time she thought about what he had given up — for her!
Not wanting to take any chances of Captain Gregg finding her gift, and still being a hair short in funds, Carolyn asked Deke Tuttle if she could put a deposit down on the box for now and pay the balance when she picked up the item on Christmas Eve.
"I am expecting checks from two writing assignments Deke, but they aren't in yet," Carolyn said hesitantly. "But they will be shortly! Okay if I pay you the thirty dollars when I pick it up on Christmas Eve?" Carolyn turned slightly pink. "It's a surprise for . . . a friend. I don't want to take the chance of him finding it ahead of time. Is that all right?"
"Not a problem in the world Mrs. Muir," Deke had replied, giving her a slightly curious look. "It is a beauty, isn't it? I only wish I had the matching piece to go with it!"
"Matching piece?" Carolyn inquired, her head coming up from where she was still examining the much-sought-for item.
"Yes-um." Deke replied. "I did a bit of research about this little box. There is a matching meerschaum pipe that originally came with it. To be honest, if I had the both of them I doubt that you would be able to afford the set, but by itself, the box is worth only a fraction of that." The old man took the box from her and carefully set it back below the counter in the glass showcase, and placed a 'SOLD' sign on in front of it.
"There you are! You've paid the five dollars down — balance of thirty dollars due upon delivery." The old man paused. "Hope you don't mind Mrs. Muir, but I would like to leave it here in the showcase — Always nice to show people what quality stuff I can get my hands on!" He smiled as Carolyn nodded her head. "I'll be open Christmas Eve, but only until three — I have to get home and take a nap before the church service. I'm one of the lay-readers. I want to be fresh!"
"Christmas Eve afternoon before three Deke!" Carolyn smiled. "I'll be here with bells on!" Carolyn waived to the old man and left the shop. What a wonderful present this is going to be! she thought to herself, elated, Daniel has the other half! I wonder how the two parts were separated?
Carolyn made her way back to Gull Cottage — exultant in the knowledge that her last major present of the season was purchased, or as nearly so as possible. In spite of all her plotting and planning, she was going to cut it awfully tight, but the two checks were due inside the next three weeks — she was going to make it! It would be close, but she was going to make it!
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Then, December 23rd, late in the afternoon, after interviewing the curator of the Keystone Maritime museum for an article she was researching on sailing ships in the 1800's, she watched as her carefully laid plans went up in smoke.
Carolyn's aging station wagon made an odd lurch as she pulled out of the museum parking lot after her interview was completed. Then, about a mile down to the main road headed for home, the car chugged and came to a slow grinding halt, giving her just enough time to steer it over to the side of the road, out of the pathway of the other cars whipping past. Seeing smoke . . . or was it steam? creeping from underneath the hood of the aging vehicle, and the temperature gauge in the 'red' zone, Carolyn flipped on the car's hazard lights and stepped out of the car with a groan.
"Trouble, ma'am?" A beefy looking man in an aging green pickup truck shouted out the window as he pulled up behind her.
"I guess so!" Carolyn responded. "I was driving along, and the car just . . . died. It wasn't doing anything wrong on my way up here — "
"That's the way it always goes, ma'am," he responded. "Cars are like that. Don't know that much about 'em, but I can take a look. Won't hurt none! My name is Jeff, by the way!" Deftly, Carolyn's good Samaritan lifted the hood of the car and stepped back as steam poured from the engine area.
"Whew!" the man waived a white handkerchief in front of his face. "Better let that cool down for a bit! Tell you what, ma'am," he paused. "I think it could be your water pump. Hope not, but could be! I need to get home — my wife is expecting me, but there is a gas station about a quarter mile up the road. I know the guy who runs it. Steve, his name is. He'll know what's wrong. He's a good guy — honest — done business with him before, and I can tell you, he'll give you a fair shake, price-wise." The man gestured toward his truck. "We better get moving — you'll need to catch him before he closes."
"I suppose that's the best thing to do! And my name is Carolyn, Jeff." She smiled at her rescuer as he led her to the passenger side of his pickup truck and opened the door.
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"It's the water pump, all right." Steve said with a grunt, wiping his hands on a shop rag as he came back to the garage office where Carolyn was waiting. "You're in luck though, all things considered."
"I am?" Carolyn grinned weakly. "And just how do you figure that, Steve?"
"Well, for one thing, for this car being a '61 Ford, you're lucky I have a water pump in stock!" the man grinned. "I don't want to tell you how often that doesn't happen! Number two if you had been going faster or further you would have ruined your timing belt too. Number three, I was planning on leaving a half-an-hour before I did when you got here, which means you would have missed me, and could have been stuck in Keystone a lot longer than you will be now, and number four, the car died so close to my shop that I am not going to charge you for the tow to get the car here to work on. It's almost Christmas and I am feeling generous. How's that?"
Carolyn gave the man a dazzling smile. "Okay Steve, I see your point! So what's the total damage?" Silently, she closed her eyes and mentally crossed her fingers.
"$35.86," the man said. "That's half and half — fifteen dollars for the part and fifteen for the labor, five-dollar shop charge, and then tax. I need to get started though — It should take me about a half- hour or so, and I promised my wife we would take the kids into Bangor tonight to see the Christmas lights."
"I don't suppose there's a chance you can jury-rig something until I can get back to Schooner Bay and my regular garage?" Carolyn asked, knowing she could work out a payment plan with Henry, Schooner Bay's local mechanic.
"I wouldn't recommend it, ma'am," Steve said. "Not with Schooner Bay being twenty miles away, I wouldn't. If it were only closer, maybe . . . I suppose you could arrange to have the car towed to Schooner Bay, and then your mechanic could work on it, but then the tow back would probably cost at least thirty — "
Carolyn gave Steve another weak smile. "No — go ahead," she sighed. "Just get it done and try hard not to find anything else wrong."
"All right then. So will that be Bank AmericaCard, or MasterCharge?"
"Cash," said Carolyn. "I don't have any credit cards. Is my check okay?"
"Fine with me!" Steve smiled warmly at her. "This is income for me, but I am sure this was not in your plans two days before Christmas! Help yourself to some coffee — the pot is there on the counter, and there are a few magazines you can look at if you want. I'll work as fast as I can." The man turned and headed for the wounded car.
So now here she was. Close to noon, on December 24th, with eight dollars and thirty-four cents in her checking account instead of forty-four, and Deke was expecting her by three o'clock with the thirty-dollar balance due on the Captain's Christmas gift.
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Carolyn dressed carefully in the royal blue suit her parents sent her for her birthday and examined herself in the mirror. Fastening on her grandmother's antique earrings as an added dressy touch, she started applying a bit of makeup. As she looked in the mirror, she talked to herself.
"A loan, that's what I need!" she reasoned. "One small, short term loan — maybe fifty dollars. Even a high interest one would be okay — That second check from the Boston Globe will be here before New Year's Eve — Why couldn't it have been the little check that was late? With fifty dollars I can get Daniel's present, have something for emergencies, and still have it paid off before the end of the year!"
Her thoughts still racing, she left a note for her family on the kitchen table saying she had to go into town for some last minute shopping, and headed for the door.
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"I'm very sorry Mrs. Muir, but I just can't do it," Mr. Baker stated. "You have no collateral. You lease your house, no equity there . . ." The older man shook his head. "Your car isn't worth the paperwork, and I just can't give you a loan based on the promise of a big organization like the Boston Globe to get a check here when they say they will. You sure you can't ask someone for a personal loan? Your parents maybe? Martha? Claymore Gregg?" He shook his head again. "No . . . on second thought, that's not a good idea. Employers shouldn't borrow from employees, and Claymore is in Boston visiting his cousin - he won't be back until the day after Christmas. You know, sometimes I hate this time of year - people spend too much . . ."
"I did NOT spend too much!" Carolyn defended herself hotly. "I had everything budgeted perfectly. I had an emergency with the car, that's all. You know, one of these days single women will be able to get credit cards in their own name for emergencies like these without husbands or fathers to sign for them and we won't need to come to banks for loans we can't get!"
"Well, that will be fine for you later," Mr. Baker had answered. "Or maybe your daughter! But in the meantime, I have a boss to report to, and he would fire me if he found out I gave a fifty-dollar loan to someone with no collateral."
"If I had that kind of collateral, I probably wouldn't NEED the money! How about thirty dollars?" Carolyn asked hesitantly.
"Same answer, same reason," Mr. Baker heaved a sigh. "I'd lend it to you myself, but I am broke until after the holiday too — we banker-types handle lots of money — It doesn't mean we HAVE it! Here though — " he pulled out four packages of play money from his desk drawer. "From the bank — Stocking stuffers — a little something for the kids. Just to show there are no hard feelings?"
"No . . . no hard feelings, I understand your position." Carolyn had sighed. "I just had to give it the old college try!" Getting up, her knees shaking, she shook the man's hand, left the financial institution and headed for Deke's shop a block away.
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Deke greeted her as she came in the door of the antique shop. "Why, hello Mrs. Muir! You're earlier than I thought you'd be!" Deke smiled, "Here to pick up the tobacco box, of course!" and the old man reached below the counter toward the item.
"Deke, wait . . ." Carolyn started. "I have a problem . . ."
"Hmm? What's that, Mrs. Muir? You need me to wrap it for you?"
"Uhmm, no Deke, nothing like that — " Carolyn paused and then plunged forward with her hastily rehearsed speech, composed on her walk from the bank to the antique store. "It's like this Deke. I had an emergency with the car yesterday. Up in Keystone. The water pump. It took all the money I have . . . well, almost all, to get it fixed."
"Well, that's too bad Mrs. Muir. Shame having something like that happen right before Christmas and all! But I bet you're glad you weren't miles away from a phone, or a mechanic! Well . . ." and the old man paused. "Ohh . . . I see."
"That's it, Deke," Carolyn's face was burning. "I don't have the money to pay for the box. I'm expecting a check from the Boston Globe right about the end of the year. I was wondering — may I take the box now, for Christmas, and pay you next week when my check comes in?"
Deke shook his head slowly.
"I'm really sorry Mrs. Muir, but I just can't. Several reasons, really! I hope you can understand!" Seeing the look that came to her face, he continued, hurriedly. "Number one, I only extend payment plans the month BEFORE Christmas — It keeps my paperwork down. Doris and I do all the bookkeeping ourselves, you know! And for small business reasons, I run my business on what's called a "cash-based" accounting system — a by-the-month expense and income bookkeeping method. All my payables and receivables have to be collected and paid by the end of each month. I can't owe and no one can owe me when I close my books at the end of December. Especially at year-end."
"But I'll have the money before the end of the year — I'm sure of it," Carolyn protested.
"I'm sure you will Mrs. Muir, but I'm just a simple Yankee merchant. I can't take that chance. Not during the holiday season! And money has been tight lately, which brings me to the second reason . . ."
Carolyn looked at the old man bleakly. "And that is . . ."
"I have another offer," the merchant said sheepishly. "Some feller saw the box in the display case the day after you came in — three weeks ago. I really do look after my customers, Mrs. Muir, even if Claymore Gregg doesn't think so! Anyway, this feller — Mr. Billings, his name is, offered me twice what I charged you for it. He really wanted me to renege on our deal and just sell it to him, but I wouldn't do it. Finally he said that if for some reason our deal fell through that he still wanted it, and to just call him and he would come in today and pay me seventy dollars for the box — spot cash." Again the old man stopped and wiped his glasses thoughtfully. "I had a hard time turning him down Mrs. Muir — but a deal's a deal! Are you sure you can't get the money from somewhere?"
Carolyn rubbed her neck fretfully and pushed her hair back away from her face, in the process accidentally pulling off one of her earrings, which flipped, slid on the counter and fell to the floor on Deke's side of the glass display case. Slowly the old man reached down to retrieve it.
"Sorry," she said. "I'm afraid not. I guess our deal is off. I'll just have to see what I can find for my deposit to you and what I have left in my checking account."
"Wait a minute Mrs. Muir — " the old man said, looking excited, "Where did you get these earrings?" I mean, they're antiques! They can't be yours, your way too young. "Did they belong to your mother?"
"My grandmother . . . Deke, why are you asking me this?" Carolyn held out her hand for the earring and Deke handed it back to her almost reluctantly.
"Well . . ." and the old man stopped. "I don't normally do this — I really like to do a cash business — and I wouldn't want the word to get around that I trade merchandise, not buy it, but I'll tell you what I'll do —"
"Yes Deke?" Carolyn looked suddenly hopeful.
"I'll trade you Even-Steven — The earrings for the box."
"Oh, I couldn't — " Carolyn said, re-fastening her earring, "They were my grandmother's — I mean I've had them forever!"
"Well, it was just a thought," said Deke, handing Carolyn her five-dollar deposit, "We could make the trade and my paperwork would be a flow-through in December, same as cash. Tell you what — do you have any other shopping to do? I won't call Mr. Billings for another fifteen minutes. "You think about it, and if you change your mind, I'm still going to be here until three o'clock."
"Thanks, Deke. I do appreciate the offer though!"Carolyn turned and walked out of the shop quickly so Deke wouldn't see her tears, and headed toward Ollie Wilkins' general store.
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Carolyn's head was still spinning and her thoughts churning as she stood in line waiting to purchase a few last-minute items. I hate lines, she thought silently. Nothing but time wasters! One of these days someone is going to think of better and faster ways to buy things and mail things and pay bills and research stories than driving twenty miles where their car breaks down and they spend money they don't deserve to have to spend to begin with! If only I didn't have to have made that trip to Keystone! That extra twenty miles — that's what did it! I wouldn't even have known the car had a problem if I hadn't made that extra trip! And even if the car had died, I would have been here where I could pay Henry later! Why did Deke ask me to trade my earrings of all things? I mean they are important to me — they're my grandmothers, and . . . She looked around the store, frustrated, anything to take her mind off her thoughts. Her eyes focused on the mannequin by the front door and the antique parasol it was holding, and she grinned.
That was so sweet of Daniel to want to buy me that parasol! Carolyn's face grew warm at the memory. Not that I will try telling him that again! Wonder why he hates being called sweet? He really is! Jonathan told me he went into hock — with Claymore, of all people, to buy it for me! He never told me that . . . He never said a word — not even when I laughed at it! And then he ended up giving me the scrimshaw instead — even when Deke said it was worth five hundred dollars! I mean, that kind of money could come in really handy — even for a ghost!
Carolyn could feel the tears coming to her eyes again and a lump was forming in her throat. And what about the antique shawl? And the Georgian silver service and Waterford crystal he gave to me when he thought I was getting married? That was so wonderful of him, and I never did really thank him properly! Even when he found out I wasn't getting married, he didn't want the things back! And he hasn't mentioned his chart rack in ages, or his tree . . . or his breakfront, or that ratty old sofa . . . all he has ever done is love me . . . love us all . . . Oh! How could I be so selfish? They are just earrings . . . Oh please — don't let me be too late!
Without another qualm, Carolyn abandoned the candles and extra string of Christmas tree lights she had picked up, and raced back to Deke's shop. The antique dealer glanced up as he heard the bell above the door ring.
"Deke!" Carolyn panted, "Have you called that Mr. Billings yet? I know it's been more than fifteen minutes! Oh, please say you haven't!"
Deke smiled.
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Christmas Eve late afternoon and evening went quickly at Gull Cottage. Jonathan and Candy both had parts in the Christmas pageant that they needed to rehearse, and as an experiment, the Episcopal church in the village decided that the children's pageant would be presented at the eight p.m. church service, which would be followed by a selection of Christmas carols, and then the actual Christmas mass. This, of course, meant naps for everyone beforehand, so the afternoon and evening was a busy one. The service was beautiful and the Muir family (and Captain Gregg) didn't arrive home until shortly after midnight.
"But it's Christmas Mom!" Candy grumbled, as Carolyn finally finished the longer-than-usual process, ending with getting the children tucked into bed. "Why can't we open our presents now?"
"Yeah Mom!" chimed in Jonathan, "It's after midnight — technically it IS Christmas . . ."
"Well it may be Christmas, but Santa hasn't made an appearance yet!" Carolyn smiled. "And he won't until you two are asleep!"
"But Mom . . ." Two pairs of sleepy eyes begged.
"Belay that, you two!" Daniel Gregg said as he appeared in the room. "Santa doesn't like mutineers! Now just close your eyes . . . " he said gently. "It will be morning before you know it — Christmas only comes once a year — let's give old St. Nick time to make his deliveries, shall we?"
"Okay, Captain!" Candy agreed. "I guess we can wait — "
"That's a good girl."
"But . . ."
Daniel Gregg sighed. "But what, my dear one?"
"Can you tell us a story?"
"Yeah, Captain!" chimed in Jonathan, "a story?"
"A story will keep you awake, I think . . . especially the stories I am thinking of! What if — how about a poem instead?"
"A POEM?" protested Candy, suddenly awake again. "That's for babies Captain!"
"I do not know any BABIES Candace." Captain Gregg looked hurt. "I was thinking of a real poem, not a nursery rhyme."
"The Night Before Christmas?" Jonathan cut in, "We know that one by heart, Captain!"
"No, my lad — a seafaring poem. A seafarer's Christmas poem."
"Okay," the children said together, "I guess a poem is better than having to go straight to sleep!" added Jonathan. The children snuggled deeper under their down comforters, Scruffy settled companionably at the foot of Candy's bed, and Carolyn positioned herself on the window seat.
The seafarer began:
A wind is rustling "south and soft,"
Cooing a quiet country tune.
The calm sea sighs, and far aloft
the sails are ghostly in the moon.
Unquiet ripples lisp and purr,
A block there pipes and chirps I the sheave,
The wheel-ropes jar, the reef-points stir
Faintly — and it is Christmas Eve.
The hushed sea seems to hold her breath,
and o'er the giddy, swaying spars,
Silent and excellent as Death,
The dim blue skies are bright with stars.
Dear God — they shone in Palestine
Like this, and yon pale moon serene
Looked down among the lowing kine
On Mary and the Nazarene.
Candy's eyelids fluttered and closed, followed almost immediately by Jonathan's, and the Captain's voice grew softer, yet somehow richer as he recited:
The angels called from deep to deep,
The burning heavens felt the thrill,
startling the flocks of silly sheep
And lonely shepherds on the hill.
Jonathan turned over toward the wall — giving his covers a restless kick, as Daniel continued.
To-night beneath the dripping bows
where flashing bubbles burst and throng,
The bow-wash murmurs and sighs and soughs
A message from the angels' song.
Not stopping, Daniel motioned to Carolyn, and together they adjusted the children's covers. Carolyn gave them both one more kiss goodnight as the Captain stood between their beds and finished the poem:
The moon goes nodding down the west,
The drowsy helmsman strikes the bell;
Rex Judaorum natus est,
I charge you, brothers, sing Nowell, Nowell,
Rex Judaorum natus est . . .
And together they tiptoed out of the room and shut the door.
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"Have I told you how lovely you look tonight, my Darling?" the Captain asked, as they finished the last of their 'Santa' duties. Martha had retired for the evening after wishing Daniel and Carolyn "goodnight and Merry Christmas," The Captain had poured them each a glass of Madeira, and they had settled in by the fire.
"I believe so, but I can always hear it again! Thank-you, Daniel!" Carolyn smiled, thinking of her Christmas dream the year before, and lifted a fold of the midnight blue velvet maxi-skirt she was wearing. "Mother and Dad sent me the outfit. Mom always remembers to send presents of something we can wear for Christmas Eve church services! — The skirt is a little too long, I'm afraid! I didn't have time to put a hem put in it, and neither did Martha. She's been busy baking. But I decided that if the women in 1869 could wear their dresses this long all the time, I could manage it for one evening!"
Daniel lifted his glass. "It's not the ensemble, my dear. It's the wearer! You look enchanting."
Carolyn blushed and lowered her eyes. "Your Christmas poem for the children was lovely, Daniel. John Masefield, wasn't it?"
"Yes. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you know that!" And the Captain grinned. "You certainly knew quickly enough when I quoted Oscar Wilde!" And he raised his glass to hers. "I love poetry — everything from Shakespeare's sonnets to Emily Dickinson. I used to drive Claymore daft asking him to bring me all sorts of books from the library in town — It helped pass the time, and was educational! Finally he pointed out that I could 'borrow' them myself from the basement storage area of the library and no one would know!"
"I discovered Masefield and his sea poetry when I was twelve or so," Carolyn said. 'Christmas Eve at Sea' was written in 1902 — but I still think my favorite is 'Sea Fever, '" and she smiled at him again. "I think that's when I knew that sooner or later that I would end up living in a cottage by the sea — but you are the biggest treasure I could have found here, Daniel!"
"I think that honor belongs to you, my Darling!" the Captain said tenderly, giving her a look that meant a thousand words.
Comfortable with each other, they watched the flames leap and dance in the fireplace for a time.
"Daniel?"
"Yes, Carolyn?"
"Things are going to get so busy tomorrow — the kids will probably be up at dawn, in spite of being up late tonight — and as Jonathan pointed out, technically it IS Christmas day — Would you like me to give you my present to you now, or would you rather open it tomorrow morning with your presents from Candy, Jonathan, and Martha?"
The Captain looked relieved. "I have been wanting to ask you the same question all evening! I am dy . . . I mean, I would really like to give you yours now." The spectre stopped and then started again. "It's not enough — not nearly enough for you, my love, but I hope you like it."
"And I hope the same, my dear!" Carolyn said softly, and she smiled. "I told the children on your . . . well . . . what we thought was your birthday last year that you aren't the easiest person to shop for!" Carolyn stood, gathering her skirts around her. "Just let me go and get it."
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"Daniel?" Carolyn called softly as she came back into the living room with a beautifully wrapped gift in her hands, "Daniel, dear — where are you?"
"Out here, my love — on the porch," he said softly.
"Re-living memories?" she asked, joining him. "Of last Christmas Eve? As frustrating as it may be sometimes, I like to think we are making new ones — new memories — ones that I will look back on with love forty years from now and more. Maybe they would be called 'unconventional' and 'unrealistic' by some people's standards, but they are definitely all I will ever need!" And she gave him a significant look.
"You know, after all this time, and considering everything going on in our 'lives' then, I am not sure how I ever got up the nerve to create that Christmas dream last year!" The Captain said to her tenderly. "But I feel, as I trust you do, that last Christmas Eve was the turning point for us Carolyn."
"Oh yes, Daniel! You know, I have been doing a lot of thinking about that lately — " Carolyn said thoughtfully. "I wouldn't want to go back and change that more difficult time of our relationship for anything, because I think that stage was important — especially in our case. We needed to fight through all the logical, practical reasonable explanations of why our relationship shouldn't work before we came to the realization that it CAN work."
"I certainly hope you do not change your mind about that any time soon, my love!" the Captain said softly, standing over her, so close that it took everything in Carolyn's power NOT to reach up and stroke his beard, lean into him for his kiss, or cuddle against his chest, as she had in their dream the year before.
"And do you have a dream planned for this year, oh, my Captain?" she asked, with a twinkle in her eye.
"W-e-ll . . ." the seafarer said with a smile, "I guess that would depend!"
"On what, may I ask?" queried Carolyn, looking slightly disappointed.
"On what my Christmas present is!" The Captain said with a wink.
"Oh . . . you!" and Carolyn smiled, a flush coming to her cheeks as she handed him her present. "I hope you like it . . . you are not easy to shop for — but then I did tell you that, didn't I?"
The Captain did not respond immediately, but instead pulled a small wrapped box out of his jacket pocket.
"For you, my dear. As I said earlier, it should be more . . ."
Carolyn took the box from the Captain and strolled over to the porch railing, grasping the gift in her hands, suddenly feeling shy.
"Ladies' first," the seafarer gestured.
Carefully Carolyn started to remove the paper, trying not to tear it.
"Candy is right, Carolyn! — it does take you forever to open gifts!" The Captain declared impatiently, sounding almost like Jonathan, "Blast it, will you please hurry? Just tear it!"
Carolyn only smiled and finished removing the gold foil; folded it gently and placed it on the porch railing beside her Madeira, and opened the hinged lid of the jewelry box. She gasped for a moment and then lifted out an antique pin. Stunned, she held it up against the ruffled bodice of her blouse, and then carefully fastened it.
"Do you like it, my dear?" the Captain asked, looking at her hesitantly. "The pin is a perfect match, I believe, to your Grandmother's earrings, is it not?"
"Yes, Daniel! It's beautiful . . ." Carolyn said softly. "It's beautiful." And she gestured to the package in his hand. "Would you like to open yours now?"
"Oh yes, of course . . ." he answered, slightly puzzled. She LOOKS like she likes it . . . the Captain concluded, but there is something . . . what is it? And he removed the last of the paper from his gift.
"Oh, my dear . . ." The Captain stroked the top of the tobacco box. "This is beautiful . . . why, the pattern in the wood is the same as my . . ." and he stopped.
". . . As your pipe, Daniel!" Carolyn finished for him. "It's a tobacco box — the companion piece to your meerschaum pipe! The minute I saw it at Deke's, I knew it had to be yours. Deke said originally the two were sold as a set. Did you have one once? Do you have your pipe with you? I'd like to see . . ." and she reached toward his pocket and then dropped her hand back to her side.
Daniel Gregg shook his head slowly and joined her over by the porch railing. "Carolyn, I . . ."
"You don't like it," she said, disappointed.
"On the contrary, my dear," the Captain interrupted her gently. "I don't think I have ever received a more beautiful present."
"Then what . . . ?" Carolyn asked, feeling slightly befuddled. The Captain shifted his feet nervously, grasped the tobacco box tighter and looked out at the clear starry night.
"Well, it's just that . . ." and he stopped and looked down at her again. "Will you tell me what is wrong if I tell you?" he queried, intrigued.
"What do you mean?" Carolyn replied with a start. Surely I'm not THAT easy to read! she thought.
"It strikes me that there is something you are not telling ME either!" and he looked out at the stars again.
"Yes, Daniel," she paused. "I'll tell you."
And the Captain began with a rush. "Carolyn, my dear, since the Christmas season started, I have been looking for something — some gift, some treasure that would show you how I feel about you. For quite some time I could find nothing. None of my personal possessions seemed worthy of . . ."
"But, Daniel . . ."
The seaman lifted his hand slightly as Carolyn started to speak. "Please, my dear, let me finish." Carolyn nodded and the seafarer resumed. "Well, then, last week I decided to go to town and look around, invisibly of course, when Martha and the children did their Christmas shopping. I went into Deke's antique shop, and that's when I saw the pin. I recognized it immediately as the matching piece to your grandmother's earrings, and decided it had to be yours." The Captain paused. "Then I did something I very rarely do."
"And that would be . . . ?" Carolyn prodded gently.
"I went outside the shop, materialized, and came back in again — visibly — ready to make a deal . . . determined that somehow I would get you the pin."
Carolyn's mouth dropped slightly open. "They could SEE you?" she asked, shocked. "Why you haven't done that since . . . since . . ."
"Since I made myself known to Martha," the Captain said mater-of-factly. "And Joshua T. Albertson, before that!"
"And then?" she asked, fascinated.
"Well, then I acted like any other customer," said the Captain. "Mrs. Tuttle was the only one in the store actually, and seemed to take quite a fancy to me." The seafarer rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "As a matter of fact, not that I think of it, she called me Daniel . . . I wonder . . ." He shrugged and continued. "I proceeded to ask her about purchasing the pin, and we dickered a little and then, naturally, I charmed her into a good price." He stroked his moustache modestly. "And then — "
"WHAT?" Carolyn asked, "Daniel, what HAVE you done?"
"ItoldherIwasoutofcashandaskedhertotakemypipeasatradeforthepin," the Captain said so quickly she had to ask again.
"I traded my pipe for your pin." The seaman said softly. "I will treasure this beautiful box forever, but I do not have the meerschaum anymore. I am sorry, Carolyn, I promise to keep my cigars out on the balcony or up on the widow's-walk, but I just had to get you the pin to go with your grandmother's earrings."
Carolyn started to laugh — first a giggle, then she began to shake, and broke into loud peals of laughter and practically doubled over in her merriment.
"Well, I must say I don't think it's THAT funny!" said the Captain, placing the box on the porch railing and giving her a look. "I know you cannot abide cigar smoke but . . ."
"You don't understand, Daniel!" Carolyn answered choking, still shaking with glee — "I traded my earrings for your box! Oh, this is too fantastic to be believed! Why it's just like that O. Henry story!"
"But . . ." And the seaman suddenly grasped the significance of the gifts, and started to roar with laughter.
When their last chuckles had faded away, the Captain refilled their glasses with the Madeira decanter he had retrieved from the parlor and made a toast. "Here's to the Magi — the Three Wise Men — the original Christmas gift-givers, my love. They brought gifts to the Christ Child in the manger, and originated the art of wise and unselfish giving — Gifts gave with total, unadulterated love of another in mind. I love you, my Darling. May all our Christmases be as joyous and full of love as this one has been! This is truly our Christmas miracle!"
Carolyn and her Captain clinked glasses and suddenly the sky exploded in shooting stars, and fireworks and colors as bright as an aurora borealis. They were surrounded . . . covered in iridescent light, and then, just as suddenly, the colors and lights were gone.
"That was beautiful, Daniel!" Carolyn said, with a happy sigh, "I've never seen anything like it!"
"Neither have I, my love . . ." and he frowned and looked down at her once again thinking, If Only . . . "But I didn't do it."
"Oh," said Carolyn, as she turned to pick up her wine glass from the porch railing and start back into the house, "it must have been some kind of natural phenomenon then."
As she turned, Carolyn tripped over her long skirt, pitched forward and fell directly into the Captain's arms.
"Carolyn???"
"Daniel???"
"Carolyn, I can touch you . . ."
"Daniel, you're solid . . ."
"As solid as you are, my love . . ."
Tentatively Carolyn reached up and stroked her Captain's face. He certainly felt real! "But Daniel . . . how . . ."
Gently, the Captain pulled her more tightly toward him, wrapping his large hands around her waist — easing them up — then tracing them down over her spine and back up again, making small circular motions over her shoulders, drawing her closer and then closer still. "My Darling, I don't CARE how . . ."
Lightly, gently, ever so gently, he kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her neck, and moved back to her parted lips, traveled down to the pulse-point of her throat and then made his way up to her incredibly sweet mouth again and with a small groan, covered her mouth with his.
Carolyn drew a ragged breath and melted into him. His kisses inflamed her . . . soothed her and left her wanting more, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth — and his body — closer to her, wanting the moment to go on forever, yet wondering if it could. Her If Only was coming true . . . would it just be for this one brief moment? Everything felt so right! Hungrily she gasped and kissed him again, feeling a warmth, a 'rightness' that traveled through her entire body.
The Captain pulled away slightly and she pulled him back again, wrapping herself around his neck so tightly she lifted herself from the floor. Gently, the Captain grasped her waist and held her to him, closely, his chest heaving.
"I love you . . ." he murmured softly, "I want you Carolyn . . . here with me . . . Always. I've loved you since the moment you crossed my threshold. I love you, my dearest. I loved you before I ever knew you and I have waited more than a hundred years for you . . . You are all I can ever want or need . . . Oh, my Darling . . ."
"And I love you, Daniel!" Carolyn said softly. "You are obstinate and closed-minded and overbearing. You are also tender and compassionate and smart and funny and the most wonderful man in the world. You . . . I love you! I have loved you since I first saw your portrait — first met you — no one else . . . all I want is for you to love me too . . . and for us to be together in every way possible." She paused. "A miracle — a Christmas miracle has made touch possible tonight. If the miracle fades after tonight I will be happy until the day I die when we can be together, and if it continues — if our ability to touch lasts, then, well . . ." and she looked up at his handsome face. "I don't want to be anywhere but with you."
"Carolyn . . . Oh my love, are you sure?"
"I cannot be any more sure, Daniel!"
"Aye, my Darling — And I have no wish than to be anywhere but with you . . . Forever!"
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Carolyn awoke Christmas morning in her bedroom with the morning sun streaming through the French doors and the happy cries of Candy and Jonathan at the bedroom door. Blushing, she glanced around the room for the Captain. Not seeing him, she reached for her bathrobe, pulled it on, and called a cheery "come in" to the children.
Well, she thought silently, thinking of her fantastically intimate dream the night before, This year's dream certainly tops last year's! I wonder what my next dream will bring? And she felt her cheeks flame
"Merry Christmas, Mommy!" cried Candy as they burst into the room, "Merry, Merry Christmas! Did you notice? It's eight o'clock — we didn't wake you up!"
"Captain Gregg said you were tired and we should let you sleep," added Jonathan. "Are you awake now?"
"Martha made coffee for you and her and hot chocolate for me and Jonathan," said Candy.
"And sticky buns!" added Jonathan. "Mommy . . . ? You okay? Are you ready to open presents?"
"Of course I am, sweethearts!" and she kissed them both affectionately and hugged them tight. "Just give me a few more minutes. I want to brush my teeth and wash my face. Five more minutes, all right?"
"Okay Mom!" and they scampered out of the room.
Not quite willing for the magic of her Christmas dream to end, Carolyn made her way out to the balcony and listened to the morning sounds — the gull's cries and the waves lapping on the shore. No, she thought, Nowhere else — I couldn't possibly live anywhere else but here. This is my life, this man, this place, This is where I belong . . . with Daniel. My soul is here.
Daniel Gregg appeared on the balcony and smiled. "Good morning, my dear."
And she was greeted with a kiss.
End
One more thank-you of course! — Couldn't put it at the beginning of the story, or ya'll might have guessed how my story would turn out! :-) Many, Many thanks to 'O'. Henry, (William Sydney Porter) the master of the short story, on whose classic tale, "The Gift of the Magi" my humble story is based. My favorite saying of his, which I try to remember is (even though it can be hard sometimes!): "Write what you like; there is no other rule."