December 19th, 1927 11:00am

I feel Christmas in the air this morning. Anna, Sarah and Daisy are busy decorating the hotel. Anna is making and hanging fragrant pine wreaths on all the windows and the outside doors. Daisy and Sarah are wrapping the stair railings with boughs and festive red ribbons.

I don't think I've mentioned this before, but Anna and I have decided to open up the big (but mostly empty storeroom) off the kitchen and turn it into a large banquet room. All it took was a good cleaning and a coat of paint. Once Anna and Sarah sewed up some nice curtains and we purchased a few new tables and chairs it was all set to go. We already have two private parties booked for this coming week and the village council wants to have their New Year's Eve party here. Our business is growing by leaps and bounds.

Anna has hired our permanent guest, the Amazing Remo, who as it happens, is an amazing pianist too, to play Christmas carols on the piano in the pub during lunch and dinner. It's going to irritate the hell out of Sam, who's being a real pistol about the holiday season. You should have seen the look on his face when Anna suggested he wear a Father Christmas cap behind the bar. Even I had to agree with Sam about that one.

My beautiful baby girls are enjoying some tummy time on a blanket in front of the fire where they're nice and toasty and very chatty this morning. I think they're talking to each other. In fact I'm sure they are. I've even seen them holding hands. They're going to be great friends.

And Will, you might be wondering how he's doing since he found out about his granddad. I've been putting him off about seeing him and I know that's unfair to the boy. So when I get home today Will and I, at Anna's urging are going to visit the Capt. and invite him to dinner after church on Sunday. Anna has persuaded me it's better to make the next move sooner rather than later. By taking Will with me, he can issue the invitation. It will please William and probably the old man too. I only hope this all gets easier.

On a pleasant note, the church has asked for one of the girls to be baby Jesus in it's Nativity on Christmas Eve and Will is to be a shepherd.

Time to move the girls to their baskets and see to greeting the luncheon customers.

~John Bates

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The Invitation

Anna placed a loud kiss on her husband's cheek before handing him his hat and coat and wrapping his red plaid scarf around his neck.

'Now you, behave, Mr Bates. I will be checking with your son to see if you do.'

John couldn't help but smile at the look she gave him.

'Yes, yes, mother. I'll be a good boy,' he replied, then let out a long sigh. 'At least I'll try my best.'

'Shush you. You will do your best because you promised.'

'I made that promise in a moment when my thoughts were fogged by lust, Anna. You should never ask a man such important things when his mind is somewhere else, especially when it's within the realms of passion and love.' John pulled her tight to his chest and she giggled, hanging on to the lapels of his coat.

'That's exactly when you should ask a man such important things, Mr Bates…' she felt him nuzzle his nose against her neck, followed by soft little kisses. '...the one time women have the advantage.'

Forehead to forehead, he whispered, 'Anna May Bates, you always have the advantage with me.'

'Mummy, I'm ready!' William's voice interrupted them and they broke apart with a smile as the boy showed his parents his clean hands and face. 'And I washed 'em with soap and all.'

'You are supposed to wash them with soap and all all the time, cheeky monkey. Here,' Anna took the boy's cap from the hook and placed it atop his head, giving him a kiss on the end of his nose, and buttoned up his winter coat. 'Now you are ready. Both of you. My handsome gentlemen.'

Father and son smiled proudly at her words and left the house. The boy held John's hand tight, pulling with all the strength he had, excited to meet his seafaring granddad for the first time as a proper family member.

'Slow down, son. You are nearly dragging me!' John chuckled at the William's enthusiasm. At least his long lost father had brought happiness to Will. Maybe with time that happiness would extend to himself...too soon to tell as yet. He only hoped nothing bad would come out of it for his precious boy. All the rest could wait, even his own acceptance.

Soon they stood outside Workman's boardinghouse. They climbed the stairs to Eamon's second floor room. 'I wanna knock,' the boy begged and John gave in with a smile and a nod of his head. William made sure their presence was announced soundly and hard. 'It's us! William and John Bates!'

The old man was at the door in a flash, 'I wasn't expecting you, lad!' Eamon opened his arms to the boy immediately, and William flew into them. 'What a grand surprise this is!'

Eamon sniffed into his grandson's hair, before looking up at John, standing there, tall and clearly uncomfortable. He remembered doing the exact same thing when John was little like Will, opening his arms every time he would arrive home after weeks at sea...until that time when he didn't come home.

'How are you doin'?' Eamon asked as he let go of the boy, inviting both to sit.

'We're good.' John replied,with downcast eyes. He was trying to hide the tears that had formed at what he had just witnessed. His memory had taken him back, but Eamon knew that too well...he had seen the same memory when he closed his own eyes while holding William. The smell was the same. The energy the boy held was the same.

'Thank you for bringing the boy. It's been a while now... sit down son, please.'

John nodded then, sitting down beside Will at the little table. The old man sat on his bed. 'We aren't here just for that. He has a message for you,' he said, nodding toward his son.

Eamon furrowed his brow, curious, looking over at the boy and waiting for that said message to be shared.

'Mummy, Daddy,' William looked at his father for a second, '...me and the girls want to invite you to have dinner at our house. Mummy said, we would all be very honoured...Daddy too, she said, 'John Bates you will be honoured too, goodness sake!' 'cause Daddy didn't want to be honoured at first.'

'Will!' John widened his eyes at the boy while the old man laughed heartily. 'There are certain things that are not to be said.'

'Let the boy be. I wasn't expecting you to be honoured to have me there...I wasn't even expecting being invited for dinner.' Eamon confessed with a long sigh.

'You have to thank my wife for that,' John replied.

'I will. I reckon she has you in the palm of her hand.'

'I love her, that's it. I'd do anything to see her happy, and this makes her happy.'

Eamon nodded thoughtfully, his eyes on his grandson once again. 'You are exactly like your mum in that matter. When she loved, she would do it above all things…'

'She loved you...above all things,' John spat out. Sometimes his bitterness was just too strong to hold back.

The old man nodded at that, more than ready to change the subject. 'Did you tell the lad? That I'm your-'

'They did!' William shouted. 'I told Percy already and he didn't believe it. He's so jealous because my granddad is a seaman. He has no granddads, only grandmas.'

'That Percy boy...he's a rascal,' Eamon said, laughing, his belly jumping up and down as he did.

'Indeed…' John rose from his chair. 'We should get back, I left Anna alone with the twins and it's almost time for their feeding.'

'You share that duty, do you?' Eamon said with a slight grin.

John's lip quirked, 'Well, I entertain one while she feeds the other. It's different with twins.'

'How're the girls?' his father asked.

'They're well...growing fast. Too fast,' John sighed.

'Yeah, and they talk to each other, but I can't understand them, and they suck on everything. If you give 'em your toe they'll suck on it,' William said with the look of experience on his face.

'But we don't do that, Will…' John grinned, shaking his head. 'So, do you accept the invitation?'

''Course I do! When for?'

'Sunday, this Sunday. Anna's making steak and ale pie. I hope you like it.'

'Your mother used to welcome me home with that…' Eamon looked down at his feet. 'I'll love it. I'm sure she's as good with the pans as your mum was.'

'That she is. All right, Will, let's go home.'

'See you on Sunday granddad!' William jumped down from his chair and walked toward Eamon, ready to say goodbye. 'I'll show you my room and my books. I have pirate ones! You'll like those.'

'I'm looking forward to it, lad. See you then.' The old man and the boy hugged goodbye and with some reluctance John shook hands with his father.

The walk home was a bit slower. William was chatty, sharing his plans for Sunday. He would make his bed himself, without any help so he could brag about his achievement to his granddad. And maybe even help with dinner? Maybe pudding...as it was easier. He would also help with the dishes or even read a good pirate story to his granddad. Of course he would have to pretend to be reading most of the words but he was sure the old man wouldn't mind...and before they knew it, father and son were home, ready to tell an anxiously waiting Anna everything about their visit.

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December 19th, 1927 9:15pm

Oh my, I'm am so tuckered out. This bed feels extra good tonight and will feel even better when my lovely husband crawls in with me. I have the girls down to sleep and John is settling William into bed. I don't think the boy has stopped talking since he came home from Eamon's. It's been a steady stream of 'My granddad this and my granddad that…' Oh, he has such big plans for Sunday. I just pray all goes well.

We were kept busy decorating the hotel and pub today for Christmas. It's looking so festive, and it has really put me in the holiday spirit. I was able to sneak out and do some Christmas shopping this afternoon. I found John a new shaving kit, with razor, bowl, brush and soap. All he really needed was the brush because Will used his for painting and the bristles were never the same after that, but he's been a very good boy so I got him the whole kit. I also found him some beautiful sterling silver cuff links. Those I left at Chandler's Jewelry to be monogrammed with his initials. I think he'll be pleased. Oh drat! I'm going to have to scratch that out or he'll see it. Sometimes I wish this was a private journal.

I've made Finn and Fee two cloth dolls without eyes or embellishments, because I'm sure they will go straight in their mouths. They suck on anything they can get a hold of these days. I even caught Will offering up his toe to Fee. That boy! And, so I'm thrilled with this...we've ordered them a playpen which they need desperately as they're out growing their baskets.

I even made Eamon a bright red, woolen scarf and bought him some new gloves. I noticed he had a couple of fingers poking out.

We've held off on Will's gift. For one thing, he's a snooper, but also he's writing his list to Father Christmas tomorrow night and sending it up the chimney. Hopefully one of us will get a peek at it before it incinerates. We've always written them for him before, but this year he says he wants to do it himself. The last I heard he wanted a train set.

The ladies in charge of the Christmas Eve Nativity at church have asked me if they could use one of the twins to serve as the baby Jesus. I guess it's an honour, but how do I chose which one? Will has been picked to be a shepherd. He's thrilled, of course. We've told him he has to stand still. I'm not sure if he can manage that. I'll start on his shepherd's robe and headdress tomorrow. I have an old striped tablecloth I can use for that. Motherhood is all about improvising.

And here comes my handsome husband now. I think I'm needed by to look in his eye.

Night all, Anna Bates

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Father Christmas?

After dinner mum had given him a pencil and a piece of paper and told him to write out his Christmas list. That's how he came to be sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace, his chin propped up with his hand, and a sick feeling in his tummy. William Bates had a problem. He didn't believe. Oh, he wanted to, so badly, but all the evidence pointed to the fact that Father Christmas wasn't real. Not even the thought of a new granddad could cheer him tonight.

It all started just after lunch today…

'...and I'm going to ask Father Christmas for a sailing ship and a new box of colours and -'

'Eh, you big baby! You don't still believe in that old boobie, do you?' Percy had sneered, as the two sat in Will's bedroom trying to built a castle made of wooden blocks.

'No…' the uncertainty in Will's voice had been enough for his friend to continue his banter.

'You really are a sweet little boy, ain't you? Bet mummy kisses you goodnight and all.'

'No she doesn't!' William had lied. 'And I'm not sweet or nothin'.'

'Anyway, Father Christmas ain't real. Them old folks tell us about him just so we behave, but I ain't biting it one bit. They ain't trickin' me,' Percy affirmed, smirking cockily at his younger friend.

'Yeah, they ain't trickin' me either,' the younger boy had echoed, trying his best not to look too troubled about the fact.

And that was the reason why he was so sad now, looking at the blank paper in his hands as he sat before the fireplace. In all his short life, or better, since he remembered any thought he had had, he wanted so badly to learn how to write just so he could write to Father Christmas himself. Even last year he had voiced his gift wishes to his parents so they could do it for him, with the idea that next Christmas he would be the one doing the writing. And now this. Now this bothersome doubt. It was all making him rather itchy.

The flames were flickering before his eyes when he heard his father's steps approaching him from behind.

'Oh my! Haven't started yet? Are you having trouble thinking of what you want?' John asked, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder.

'Nah…' William wrinkled his nose. 'I'm just not sure if it will make any difference, Daddy.'

'What do you mean, son? Father Christmas needs to know what you want. How can he get you the right thing?' his father asked, trying the understand.

'Percy said there's no such thing as Father Christmas. How can he travel the world in one night after all?' the boy said rather shaken, turning his sad eyes up to face his dad. Everything he had always believed was about to be proven wrong.

John sighed, shaking his head. 'That Percy friend of yours...what does he know anyway?'

'He said Father Christmas is only a way for old folks to make us children behave,' William explained his friend's point of view.

'Let's do this, son.' John thought for a moment...Will was still too young for the truth. Every child should believe in a bit of magic before they grow up for good. Was there any way out of this though? And then, he had an idea! 'Listen, why don't you ask if he's real? Before you start your list, or after, you decide, write to him asking that. What better way to put an end to your doubts and having a direct answer...if you get one.' John shot the boy an understanding look.

'Yes!' William's expression perked up at his father's suggestion. 'I'll do that!'

'See, much better! And don't forget to give it to me to read before you burn it…' John warned the boy, as an excuse to get a peek at his Christmas wishes. 'Just so we make sure there aren't any spelling mistakes. If Father Christmas is real he will be very proud of such young boy writing to him but we have to make sure he understands everything, right?'

'Right!' the boy replied, now with his troubles at ease. John ran a hand through his golden hair, so like Anna's,

happy to have averted this potential parental crisis.

Later that night, when the children were asleep, Anna and John enjoyed the silence of their room. She was already in bed when he came in after washing up, and she was reading the copy of the list their son had written. The original had been thrown in the fire, as tradition called for, the copy had been written by John when he corrected some of the boy's mistakes.

'Oh, this part,' Anna cleared her throat before starting to read Will's list. 'I want a sailing ship, a box of forty colours, just like the one I saw in Mr Louis' shop, a pocket watch like daddy's and a box of endless chocolates,' she rolled her eyes. 'The beggar. Endless chocolates!'

'He's a sweet tooth like his mother,' John chuckled as he got in bed, sitting up beside his wife and resting his head against the headboard. 'And his letter to Father Christmas, did you read it?'

'Dear Father Christmas, I just want to know if you are real or not because Percy said you weren't but mummy and daddy say you are and I don't know what I should believe. I mean, Percy is silly and all but he's right about lots of things, like, cats lick their bottoms because they don't clean 'em with paper like people do. Same with dogs. Or when he said witches fly on brooms because they are women and women like a good broom. So, I just want to know if you are a lie or not a lie. And if you are not a lie, how come you can travel the world in one night and read our lists after they burn? If you would be so kind to explain that to me. I will tell Percy if you do.'

'I did! And now? Will Father Christmas answer him?' Anna asked, smiling.

''Course he will! He will write the boy a long letter explaining everything.' John winked at his wife.

'Aren't you the best father in the world?' she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to her.

'I have no idea what you are talking about, my dear,' he said, kissing her temple as he did.

Anna ran the tip of her nose down his cheek. 'Did you see how excited he was when he burned the letter? I think he is really waiting for his reply.'

'He shall have it on Christmas morning with his presents. Don't worry. You got to give Father Christmas time to…' John felt her lips at the corner of his mouth and sighed before finishing his sentence. '...to write it.'

'Indeed. Father Christmas has a lot to do,' she whispered.

'And Father John has a lot to do too!' he growled, pulling her down in the bed in a fit of giggles, tickling at her sides as his lips nuzzled at the neckline of her nightgown. The list lay on the floor, forgotten for now, while they spent the next few hours in each other's arms. It was almost Christmas! A time for family and love, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

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Next time: Christmas Eve and Christmas Day w/the Bateses!

Written by Handy-for-the-bus & Terriejane from The Anna & Mr. Bates Reading Room

Thank you for reading ~ Please review. It's your reviews that keep us going. :)