~ by M. C. Pehrson
Huge red and white candy canes hung from lamp posts along the boulevards while shoppers admired Christmas displays in frosted store windows. Carols drifted in the air, and strings of colored lights appeared on houses — even the Kester home, which could not be seen from the road. Mrs. Kester said the lights were there for the family to enjoy, and to honor the precious Child born during this holy season.
As Christmas Day approached, Emma inwardly trembled with the realization of what she had set in motion. She suffered wedding nightmares in which Aunt Daisy stood up and yelled at “that Kester widow,” spoiling everything. But she dared not tell Papa about them.
Mrs. Kester kept encouraging Papa not to worry, that they would not let Daisy upset them, no matter what. Yet her pretty green eyes looked troubled.
School let out, but there were plenty of things to keep Emma busy. Racing to beat a rainstorm, Uncle Lars backed his pickup truck into Emma’s driveway and helped Papa move several loads of their belongings. On another day, Papa and Mrs. Kester and all three children piled into Papa’s Ford and went out to buy a Christmas tree for the farmhouse. That evening they covered each fragrant branch with bubble lights, treasured ornaments from both families, and snow sprayed from a can. Then Mrs. Kester put a Christmas record on the hi-fi, and everyone squeezed onto the couch, warm and safe and happy.
The morning before Christmas, Papa went to pick up Aunt Daisy, and he made Emma come along. It was so cold and blustery that even the pigeons had come down off their utility-line perches. Holding his hat in place, Papa welcomed Daisy politely as she stepped off the sleek passenger train. The three of them made small talk until her luggage came. Then they were driving home.
“Well,” Papa said with a tense smile, “you’re here.”
In the rear seat, Emma waited for one of Aunt Daisy’s cutting retorts. Well, even a fool could see that I’m here, Robert…
Instead, Daisy let out a comfortable sigh and said, “It’s good to be back.” She turned her head and looked at Emma. “My, but your hair has grown. It looks rather nice like that, all braided. Wait until you see the Christmas present I’ve brought you.”
Daisy’s unexpected compliment seemed rather stiff, but Emma responded with a properly grateful smile. The gift was sure to be disappointing. All her life, Emma had received Christmas dolls from Aunt Daisy. It did not matter that dolls gave Emma the “creeps,” and Daisy knew it. Daisy liked dolls — Papa said she collected them. So, because Daisy liked dolls, Emma got a new one each year.
Evening finally arrived. After eating a nice supper at the Kester house, everyone gathered in the living room where the Christmas tree shone brightly. Mrs. Kester had said that it was an old Norquist custom to open presents on Christmas Eve, and that was just fine with Emma. Carols played on the hi-fi as Tommy wheeled back and forth in his chair, delivering gifts after his mother read each tag aloud. Two of the presents landed on Aunt Daisy’s lap, and Emma could see by her startled expression that she had not expected any.
It was the Winberry custom to take turns opening Christmas presents one at a time, and everyone agreed that it was also a fine idea. Starting with Tommy, they worked their way around, according to age. Emma watched Papa open the new bowtie she had bought him. Then Mrs. Kester unwrapped Emma’s scented candle. For Tommy and Susan, Emma had handcrafted some Indian beadwork. Aunt Daisy’s gift from the Winberrys was a pretty new apron, and on the second round, she opened the Kesters’ gardenia beauty soap. Before long, wrapping paper and packaging were strewn all over.
Everyone had exchanged thanks or hugs or kisses when Tommy put on his new Davy Crockett coonskin cap and said, “Wait! There’s another present. It’s ‘specially for you, Mom.”
As Uncle Lars wheeled him down the hallway, Emma caught Aunt Daisy watching Tommy for the umpteenth time that night. It was plain to see that Daisy felt sorry for the handsome little boy with a missing leg. Emma found herself wondering if Daisy knew about her role in Tommy’s accident. But no — Papa would never say anything bad about his daughter, even if it were true.
The Christmas music came to an end. Mrs. Kester flipped the record, and as she was about to sit down, Tommy’s voice called out, “Is everybody ready? I’m coming!”
“Ready!” answered everyone with curious smiles, including Aunt Daisy.
A faint sound was heard in the hallway, and from out of the darkness, Tommy appeared. Standing upright on two legs — without crutches — and walking slowly but surely, he made his way into the living room.
Emma gasped. Suddenly Papa was on his feet, standing with an arm around Mrs. Kester. Aunt Daisy’s hand flew to her mouth, and the tears that moistened her eyes touched Emma almost as much as Tommy’s triumph. Uncle Lars was following close behind Tommy, and now he began to clap. Susan started clapping, too, and then everybody joined in as Mrs. Kester clutched Tommy to her heart and wept.
Afterward, Tommy sat on Papa’s lap and lifted his pant leg to show off his artificial limb. “Ain’t that somethin’?” he beamed, and Papa did not even correct his bad grammar. “Uncle Lars and me, we wanted to keep it secret.” He giggled. “Mom thought we were just getting it fitted, but we took it over to Uncle Lars’ house and kept on practicin’.”
When the excitement quieted down, Mrs. Kester suggested they clear away the mess and enjoy some Christmas cookies.
“Just a moment, please,” said Daisy. “Robert, get that suitcase out of the car. The one I had you bring along.”
With a troubled look, Papa lugged the suitcase into the house and placed it at Daisy’s feet. Emma had been a little worried about its contents all evening. A doll for her, that much was certain, but how embarrassing it would be if Daisy excluded the other children.
Reaching down, Aunt Daisy snapped open the latches and raised the lid, revealing several meticulously wrapped gifts. Emma relaxed a little. Maybe there were presents for Tommy and Susan, after all.
The largest and heaviest item came out first. “For you, Robert…and Christina. Merry Christmas.”
Papa moved Tommy to Christina’s lap and opened the package, revealing an Italian-made crèche complete with all the traditional Nativity figures. It was a thoughtful, extraordinary gift from a woman who never seemed to set foot in church. Emma and Susan crowded in for a closer look while Papa and Mrs. Kester expressed their gratitude. Right away, it was set in full view, atop the television set. Papa plugged in its power cord. A gentle glow illuminated the interior of the stable, and a shaft of light reached all the way to an angel hovering above.
Now, Aunt Daisy handed each child a present. Emma studied hers. It was not the right sort of box for a doll — too flat, and rather heavy for its size. Maybe this time it was a picture of a doll. Meanwhile, Tommy tore the paper from his package and found a shiny new cap gun that Emma would have loved. For Susan, there was a diary with a locking clasp — perfect for writing down secrets.
“Your turn, Honeybee,” said Papa with a subtle note of warning. Without a word, he was telling her, no matter what, you will pretend to like it.
Bravely forcing a smile, Emma peeled back the wrapping. The breath caught in her throat. There before her astonished eyes was a set of velvety moths and butterflies, each one perfect and beautiful, professionally mounted in a glass case.
“Aunt Daisy!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Aunt Daisy, it’s wonderful!”
Daisy huffed the first huff of her visit. “You and your jar of moths! Since you like those fluttery things so much, I figured you might as well have a few nice ones.”
Springing from the floor, Emma threw her arms around Daisy’s neck and kissed her powdered cheek. “Oh, thank you, Aunt Daisy! It’s the best present ever!”
A very special day for the family. I loved this story, it brings back the smell of the tree, the crinkle of Christmas wrapping paper all around and yes, the tension included at all family functions.